Read Online Becoming Americans by Donald Batchelor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Donald Batchelor
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barking in the woods, but he saw no one. He went to the cabin where he'd slept and took off his doublet and breeches. Tully had splashed water as he rowed, so Richard laid his wet breeches on the bed to dry. Then he put on the work clothes he'd worn when he arrived.
      Old Ned's jug of rum sat in a corner of the room. Richard hesitated for a moment then went to the jug and half-filled a flagon that was beside it. He was nearly made sick with a first gulp, so then took smaller sips.
      He took the flagon and stepped outside, down to the shed where the hogsheads of tobacco were lined up. He leaned against the handle of the giant screw press and pictured the process that would occur here in the next week or so. A ship as big as the one that brought them to Virginia would dock at the pier in front of him. Goods that Mister Ware had ordered from his factor in England would be unloaded and, in exchange, the hogsheads of tobacco would be rolled from the shedâafter an official weighingâonto the ship. When the tobacco arrived in England, Mister Ware's factor would credit his account with the value. Richard wondered if his Uncle Edward were Mister's factor in Bristol. The new suit had made opposite the desired impression.
      Richard sipped his rum and looked at the giant hogsheads. He moved to inspect them. They were poorly made, and tobacco poked out from between uneven, loose staves. He tore off some leaves and stuffed them inside his sleeve to smoke or chew later. He could make better hogsheads than these himself, he thought. His best friend in Bristol was apprenticed to a cooper. Richard had spent many hours watching his friend plane staves, or struggle with them in the settingup hoop, even making the dowels that held the pieces together for the head. These hogsheads were just thrown together.
      Richard sipped the rum. It was Sunday, but it was Halloween, too. Surely, his master wouldn't keep him from celebrating tonight. Richard was looking forward to tonight. He wanted noise and laughing people, contests, food and tricks.
      He should use this time alone to devise a surprise! Everyone played fun on Halloween. Perhaps he could repair some of today's embarrassment. Anne would be impressed.
      He sipped the rum.
      These hogsheads were dangerous, even. Richard unhooked his sleeve from a broken hoop. The huge barrel was coming apart. Pressed tobacco from inside, and the arching green staves were pushing it open.
      Richard looked at the other packed casks. Several hoops were splitting and about to break apart. The hogshead would never make it through the transit back to England, if they made it aboard ship.
      He pulled at a hoop with his hands, but it held. He found a wedge of iron by the ramp and forced it between the hoop and a stave. A slight tapping on the wedge forced the wooden circle to snap with a sharp noise that Richard found exciting.
      He sipped from the flagon.
      The next cask required harder tapping with the wedge but gave a louder retort. The remaining faulty hogsheads were more or less easy, and by the time Richard had popped all the splitting hoops, he had also emptied the flagon.
      He sat on the edge of the shed floor, dangling his feet. He squinted at the river as the sun settled down towards it. He leaned his head back against the corner post.
      How lucky for him to have noticed the poor hogsheads. When he reported this, Harper would reflect the glory of Richard's discovery. Mister Ware would be delivered from potential disaster and Richard would be honored before young Anne Biggs.
      When he awoke, it was dark for but a distant bonfire and the torch held to his face by
      Old Ned's jug of rum sat in a corner of the room. Richard hesitated for a moment then went to the jug and half-filled a flagon that was beside it. He was nearly made sick with a first gulp, so then took smaller sips.
      He took the flagon and stepped outside, down to the shed where the hogsheads of tobacco were lined up. He leaned against the handle of the giant screw press and pictured the process that would occur here in the next week or so. A ship as big as the one that brought them to Virginia would dock at the pier in front of him. Goods that Mister Ware had ordered from his factor in England would be unloaded and, in exchange, the hogsheads of tobacco would be rolled from the shedâafter an official weighingâonto the ship. When the tobacco arrived in England, Mister Ware's factor would credit his account with the value. Richard wondered if his Uncle Edward were Mister's factor in Bristol. The new suit had made opposite the desired impression.
      Richard sipped his rum and looked at the giant hogsheads. He moved to inspect them. They were poorly made, and tobacco poked out from between uneven, loose staves. He tore off some leaves and stuffed them inside his sleeve to smoke or chew later. He could make better hogsheads than these himself, he thought. His best friend in Bristol was apprenticed to a cooper. Richard had spent many hours watching his friend plane staves, or struggle with them in the settingup hoop, even making the dowels that held the pieces together for the head. These hogsheads were just thrown together.
      Richard sipped the rum. It was Sunday, but it was Halloween, too. Surely, his master wouldn't keep him from celebrating tonight. Richard was looking forward to tonight. He wanted noise and laughing people, contests, food and tricks.
      He should use this time alone to devise a surprise! Everyone played fun on Halloween. Perhaps he could repair some of today's embarrassment. Anne would be impressed.
      He sipped the rum.
      These hogsheads were dangerous, even. Richard unhooked his sleeve from a broken hoop. The huge barrel was coming apart. Pressed tobacco from inside, and the arching green staves were pushing it open.
      Richard looked at the other packed casks. Several hoops were splitting and about to break apart. The hogshead would never make it through the transit back to England, if they made it aboard ship.
      He pulled at a hoop with his hands, but it held. He found a wedge of iron by the ramp and forced it between the hoop and a stave. A slight tapping on the wedge forced the wooden circle to snap with a sharp noise that Richard found exciting.
      He sipped from the flagon.
      The next cask required harder tapping with the wedge but gave a louder retort. The remaining faulty hogsheads were more or less easy, and by the time Richard had popped all the splitting hoops, he had also emptied the flagon.
      He sat on the edge of the shed floor, dangling his feet. He squinted at the river as the sun settled down towards it. He leaned his head back against the corner post.
      How lucky for him to have noticed the poor hogsheads. When he reported this, Harper would reflect the glory of Richard's discovery. Mister Ware would be delivered from potential disaster and Richard would be honored before young Anne Biggs.
      When he awoke, it was dark for but a distant bonfire and the torch held to his face by
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