The Twelfth Enchantment: A Novel Read Free

“Mr. Olson, have you discussed with Lucy a date for your wedding?” This was a disingenuous question, as she knew he had not raised the question at all. He had not so much as sent Lucy a note expressing joy at their upcoming union. “I cannot but think the sooner a date is set, the greater will be your happiness,” Mrs. Quince added.
    Mr. Olson turned to the serving woman as though the effort strained his neck, but then addressed his answer to Uncle Lowell. “It is not convenient to set a date. The establishment of my mill consumes my time. The machines are new and the workers unaccustomed to their use.”
    “Quite right,” said Uncle Lowell. “A man who does not put his businessfirst is a buffoon. And yet,” added he who so wished his niece gone from his home, “I wonder if your efforts would not be aided by the acquisition of a wife to manage your household. You might then freely fix your mind upon matters of business.”
    “You and I think very much alike,” said Mr. Olson. “I should be surprised to find you had considered an option that had eluded me entirely. I conclude the disadvantages of the scheme you suggest most certainly outweigh the benefits. A new wife must bring with her demands and distractions and difficulties to be resolved.”
    “Yes, yes, and I suppose you have your hands full with these”—Uncle Lowell waved his hand about the air, a gesture he often reserved for discussions of people he thought contemptible—“
Luddites
, as they style themselves. You must worry that they will set themselves against your mill.”
    “The Luddites are malcontents and brutes,” said Mr. Olson, who now smiled for the first time since his arrival. “They are like children who complain a game is unfair because they have lost. I make twenty pieces of hose at a labor cost that would previously have produced but one, but they say that I take away their employment. It is their own fault for not being so efficient as I.”
    Lucy knew of these debates. Everyone in Nottingham did, for Nottinghamshire was the heart of this uprising of laboring men who set out to destroy the machines that had deprived them of their work and, as a result, beggared them. Now the army was in town to stop the Luddites, but everyone said there had been no abatement in the destruction. Not a week went by without a hosiery mill burned or fired upon or broken open and its machinery smashed.
    Lucy’s father had always been against these mills, had spoken of them as a curse upon both nature and labor. Once she had stood with him looking upon a pottery mill not far from their home, and he had shaken his head with disgust. “Behold one possible future, Lucy, and a terrible one. These mills strip their laborers of their humanity, and soon enough they may strip it from the rest of us.” Lucy felt herself inclined to side with her late father over her future husband. Indeed, the growingpoverty in the county over the past few years only made her more inclined to sympathize with the Luddites. Their wild rhetoric—with talk of their fictional General Ludd—and certainly their violent acts disquieted her, but given the shortages of food that had struck Nottingham, the weakened trade caused by the ongoing war with France, and the general decline in opportunities to earn wages, perhaps wild rhetoric was appropriate.
    Though used to keeping such opinions to herself, Lucy now thought she ought to voice what had been her father’s opinions in these matters. “But men lose their livelihood to machines like yours, and the wages you pay can hardly support a family. It is what I read in the newspaper.” Both the man who currently paid her way in the world, as well as the one who proposed to take upon himself that responsibility, stared at her. In response to this silence, Lucy pressed on, affecting a light cheer in her voice. “Do not their grievances have some merit?”
    Mr. Olson cleared his throat, perhaps to signal that he would bear the burden