by KW Jeter
With my mind in such a state of wonderment, I involuntarily twisted about where I sat, once again glancing behind myself and upward to the gondolier in question. My doing so, however, did not confirm that of which Blightley had just boasted, as to the artificiality of the figure; even in the faint glow from the dangling lantern, he appeared exactly as I had identified him before, the knavish Spivvem. His fleshly human nature was again indicated by the sly smirk at the corner of his mouth, to which was added the upward rolling of his eyes, signalling his mockery of what the other man had just said.
When I turned back around, I could tell that Blightley himself had not seen these small betraying clues; Spivvem, in his disguise of Venetian boatman, had kept them subtle enough as to form a private communication between himself and me. Thus I was made his fellow conspirator, for the moment at least, in league against the others in the craft. I briefly pondered revealing the deception to the two entrepreneurs, weighing whether I would derive some advantage by thereby ingratiating myself further with the odd pair. But, I quickly reasoned, they were already attempting to flatter me into some commercial enterprise with them – perhaps this was a sincere overture on their part, or they were scoundrels with some ulterior agenda in mind – I could not yet discern which was the case. Where it was obvious that Spivvem’s honesty was a doubtful matter, but he still might be of some aid to me – he had, after all, somehow managed to substitute himself for whatever mechanism that Blightley and his partner Haze had installed on the gondola, and which they believed to be still in operation there. Had he done so in order to spy upon them, or upon me? Whichever it was, his having done so revealed some considerable ingenuity on his part – an alliance with him might serve me better, if my threatened skin were still to be saved.
“Impressive, indeed.” Returning my gaze to Blightley, I made a show of feigned appreciation. “Little wonder that you and Mr Haze have been able to achieve success in the theatre. If I had not been informed otherwise, I might well have mistaken this creation of yours for a living man.”
“Coming from such as yourself, that’s a grand compliment.” Blightley hooked a thumb into the armhole of his vest, while brandishing the cigar with his other hand. “Given your expertise, what with mechanical figures and all.”
“It would seem rather, that your knowledge of the subject greatly exceeds mine. I could never have assembled such a convincing simulation.”
“That’s all Haze’s doing, as I said. Was the making of my fortune, the day I hooked up with him. But then, I like to think that there’s some mutual benefit. Clever as he is – and you hardly know the half of it, Mr Dower! – he doesn’t have quite the same head for business that I do.” Blightley gave a sage nod. “Pardon my boasting, but a partnership such as ours isn’t seen everyday.”
All the while Haze’s loquacious associate discussed their individual peculiarities, the other man gave no sign of giving attention, or even having heard. Haze remained as he was, perched in the gondola’s prow, owlishly contemplating the water through which the craft rolled, while he very likely dreamt of even more intricate contraptions.
“I’ll cut right to the crux of the matter, George – mind if I call you George?” Eyes glittering, Blightley leaned toward me. “I figure we should be friends, seeing how we’ve got so much in common. Same business and all, if you know what I mean.”
“Address me as you wish.” Whatever the other man’s full name might be, I had no interest in learning it. “Standing on formality is not a trait of mine.”
“George – you strike me as a stand-up sort of fella. The fact that with your keen eye for fancy machinery, you approve of ours – that’s icing on the cake. Just makes it all the easier to tell you, that there’s room for one more in our enterprise. Man of your talents – why, you’d fit right in.”
“You certainly make it sound enticing.” In actuality he didn’t, but right now I wished him to believe otherwise. “Do tell me more.”
“Gotcha! Hook, line ‘n’ bob!” His delight was infectious, or would have been for someone less sourly disposed than myself. “I knew you were a savvy type – always on the lookout for a snapping good opportunity. That’s how we get on in the world, ain’t it? Well, you’ll remember this as being a red-letter day, no doubt about that!”
“Already, it is engraved in my memory. But I still lack details as to its exact wonderfulness.”
“Let me fix you up on that score, George.” We faced each other so close, that Blightley was able to lay a comradely hand upon my knee. “Here’s what Haze and I have been up to, that’s led to our present success. I take it you’re aware of the great – bloody great, your lot would say – bloody great conflict going on in America, even as we speak?”
“The affairs of other countries matter little to me, Mr Blightley–”
“Call me Ed.”
“I can scarcely be concerned with what happens in my own. But yes, even for one as solipsistic as myself, word of your nation’s turmoil has reached my ear. The daily journals are replete with accounts of your North and your South being divided by some enmity, the causes of which are obscure to me.”
“Yes, George, and quite a sad thing it is, too. Civil wars are the bloodiest, and there’s been some awful battles in this one, and worse to come before it’s all over.” Sombre for a moment, Blightley soon resumed his cheerful aspect. “But it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow somebody some good, as the old saw goes. Other folks’ misery creates some bang-up opportunities – and it’s a businessman’s prerogative to take advantage of them, am I right?”
“I suppose – but how exactly do you accomplish that?”
“Easy as pie – at least it is for people who’ve got as much on the ball as me ‘n’ Haze. All those accounts of deaths and slaughter, that your English folks lap up when they read about ‘em in the papers here? Well, that’s at a considerable distance from the events – so you can just imagine how much more compelling they seem, when they’re happening in your own backyard, and the soldier boys getting killed and maimed are your own kin, and your neighbours’, as well.”
“This immediacy, I take it, is something you employ to your advantage.”
“Right in one go, George. People read of these tragic events – or exciting, depending on how you look at ‘em – or they hear of ‘em; much talked about, they are, you can bet your bottom dollar on that – but they can’t actually see all the great battles and bloody goings-on, can they? Imagination’s a fine thing and all, but it has its limits.”
“So it would appear,” I said. “And this deficiency is a matter that you seek to correct, with the performances of your–” Glancing down to the discarded handbill at my feet, I again read its bold words. “Your troupe of automata?”
“Bang-up job they do – I can tell you that!” The cigar in Blightley’s hand drew a flaming arc as he flung out his encompassing gesture. “You should just see ‘em – and I expect you will, soon enough. Haze ‘n’ I have spared no expense, to achieve a degree of verisimilitude never before witnessed on the stage. Why, the costumes alone that we stuff Haze’s machines into – grey uniforms for the Southerners, and blue for the Yankees, just like you see there on the paper – they didn’t come cheap; nosirree! And the rifles and the sabres – even cannons! – those required a damn considerable investment; you should’ve heard my backers squealing when I handed ‘em the bill!” He laughed, slapping his own knee this time. “Had one fella tell me that it woulda been cheaper to’ve hired the actual Union and Confederate armies to whup it about on stage, with all the shooting and banging and what-not.”
“Did you consider that possibility?”
“Truth of the matter, George – I did.” Leaning closer so as to achieve more confidentiality, Blightley dropped his voice, and glanced quickly over his shoulder to ascertain whether the figure sitting in the prow could hear or not. “But I was sure it woulda broken poor Haze’s heart, not to use all those clever machines he’d put together – he might not s
trike you as being exactly an effusive sort of fella, and most times he’s not, but I’ve been hooked up with him long enough to know he’s got a sensitive side. Probably why he finds it hard to speak to ordinary folk, least till he gets to know ‘em; he’ll warm up to you, I promise.”
“My own words can scarcely describe how I look forward to that day.”
“Glad you feel so.” Blightley gave no sign of perceiving my sarcasm. “So there’s the personal issue, all right – but from a business point of view, we’d already sunk a packet into the machines. And they do have some advantages to ‘em – they can be replaced, right? We put a lot of effort into the staging of our shows, with a great deal of realism to the depiction of the battles. If it was real, live, flesh-and-blood soldiers up there on the boards, we’d probably lose a few at every performance. That’d make it difficult, I reckon, to recruit new ones. Kind of young men who sign up to go marching off with real armies, and get their heads blown off, are strangely reluctant to do the same in a theatre. Not sure why, given that the effect on ‘em is pretty much the same.”
“And your audiences?” I raised an enquiring eyebrow. “I presume they appreciate all the attention and effort you expend, to make these portrayals so convincing.”
“You bet they do! War’s a wonderful thing, George – if there weren’t any, impresario types such as myself would’ve had to invent them, to come up with anything so all-fired interesting. Sometimes I even wonder if all our nation’s leaders, with their strutting and posing and big talk, all their high-flown ideals and rhetoric – maybe that’s all they do! And for no other purpose but to keep folks entertained – but that’s a cynical notion, and one I don’t pursue further.”
By this point in the American’s exposition, the gondola had proceeded on its submerged iron tracks to what seemed to be the position where I had first regained consciousness in it. I recognized the particular sham constructions, flat rigged plaster that they were, of the artificial Venice past which we made our way. The long-handled paddle at the craft’s side continued its regular cogged motions; the human being I knew to be the capped gondolier above, and which Blightley assumed was one of his own theatrical machines, went on with his sly eavesdropping of our conversation.
“May I ask you a question, Mr Blightley?”
“Sure – but the moniker’s Ed. Really.”
“Very well. What I would like to know is – why are you here?”
“Huh?” The other man blinked in perplexity. “Where else should I be? I mean – I wanted to have a talk with you, and this is where you’re at. Kinda obvious, isn’t it?”
“Not quite what I meant, Mr Blightley. What I wish to determine is why you and your associate have come here to England. The civil war of which you speak – I am certain it is all very fascinating, but you admit that is greatly due to the audience’s connection with the forces that are involved. In this country, those connections are largely absent, and our interest is consequently diminished. I very much expect that whatever seeds you and Mr Haze wish to sow here, they will fall on stony ground. Rather than seek to enlist me in your theatrical enterprises – to what purpose, I fail to see – surely you would be better off by returning home and reaping the profitable harvest you have planted in those larger and more enthusiastic fields.”
“Would if we could.” Blightley’s expression darkened to a scowl. “Kind of a problem with that, I’m afraid.”
“Problem? When is success ever a problem?”
“When it’s the kind me ‘n’ Haze have had. No wonder the poor bastard’s so tetchy – must feel like he’s been kicked in the teeth, and after all his hard work. To be honest, that’s how I feel.”
“Your meaning escapes me.”
“Maybe if Haze wasn’t so all-fired clever.” The man before me visibly sank into the morass of some bitter recollection. “Maybe if the mechanical actors he puts together weren’t so lifelike – is it our fault that people are so fooled by ‘em?”
“I take it that something untoward happened, because of your machines’ uncanny resemblance to humanity.”
“Right you are, George – you see clear to the heart of the matter, you do. Damn! And we were so close–” Blightley wrung his large-knuckled hands together, as if he were strangling the author of his miseries. “If things had gone just the least bit different, our fortunes – our real fortunes – woulda been made, and I wouldn’t be sitting here jabbering with you, in this phony lagoon. Haze ‘n’ I’d be back where we belong, swanning it up at the Fifth Avenue Hotel, eating pressed duck and swilling champagne by the bucketful.”
I said nothing, feeling no need to. The American’s confession having begun, I was certain that I would not be able to escape the complete unburdening of his woes.
EIGHT
The Hazard of Theatrical Enterprises
“Here’s what happened.” Blightley did not disappoint; he hunched forward, unblinking gaze fastened onto mine. “Haze ‘n’ I made a dreadful mistake – we shoulda waited till the war was over, before we started up our theatrical recreations of its famous battles. But we were impatient fools about that – and can you blame us? It’s only human nature, isn’t it, George – you see a gleaming pile in front of you, just waiting to be grabbed – why, you’re gonna jump for it, aren’t you? And we did!” His previous gloom was supplanted by a fevered agitation. “I wish you coulda seen it, George – it was magnificent. Two full regiments of mechanical soldiers, the blue and the grey, with cannons and even cavalry – cavalry, George! Those horses must’ve been Haze’s masterpieces – very convincing, they were.”
“I worked on them,” came a low, muttering voice from the gondola’s prow, “for a long time.” Haze himself did not turn to face us, but continued gazing sullenly at the dark waters. “All ruined now.”
“A certain impression is being formed in my mind,” I regarded both men more closely, “that in the event, things did not proceed quite as you anticipated.”
“You can say that again.” Blightley’s words were emphasized by a ponderous nod of his head. “We shoulda started out small, with a show we could’ve fit onto a regular theatre stage. But – my own stupid notion, I confess – why not something huge, that the whole country would notice? Hell, maybe the whole world! So we launched with a performance out in the open, with a whole valley for our contraptions to bang around in, and the mechanical horses charging back and forth – quite a sight, you can be sure. We put the audience up in the hills, with the top-dollar viewpoints right up close to the action, and the nickel seats out in the boonies – but higher up, so’s they could still see just fine. Packed ‘em in, we did. ‘Course, we advertised like blazes, so we weren’t surprised we got such a mob – people took the train all the way from Chicago, just to see. So as much as ticket sales went, we had a rip-roarer on our hands.”
“I have no doubt of that.” Indeed, I didn’t; the American not only had the sunny optimism of his national breed, only briefly eclipsed by passing darker moods, but an apparent egoism beyond that tendency, which bespoke an innate talent for self-promotion. “Then what could have gone amiss?”
“Well, hindsight’s a lovely thing, ain’t it? You see so much more when you’re looking backward.” Blightley emitted a quick, barking laugh. “Chiefly, I’d reckon it was our choice of venue – you know, where our grand performance all took place. That damn valley – cute little place it was, too; very attractive – but just too far southernly inclined. Of course, that’d seemed something of an advantage at the time – my thinking had been we’d not only get the audience we mainly expected, of folks pretty much welded to the Union cause – but I’d calculated we’d also do well with those more sympathetic to the Confederacy, of whom there seemed to be quite a number in the surrounding region. And then, of course, there was a reliable contingent of those who just enjoy the spectacle of people shooting at each other – in the States, there’s always been quite a few of those. The problem, however, when appealing to a mixed lot like that, espe
cially at a time when passions are running high – they do become a bit, you might say, excitable.”
“That comes as no surprise,” I noted. “My understanding is that the Americans are, as a rule, of a volatile temperament.”
“Certainly proved themselves so on that day! Truth to tell, George, once things got going, it would’ve been hard to determine, save for the uniforms on Haze’s machines, whether the battle was taking place there on the field, or out where the audience had been gathered. Awful it was, what with all the hollering and cursing, and even gunshots – and that was just the women! Oh, the men in the assembled lot, on either side, gave a good account of themselves as well, but one mighta expected as much from them – or I should’ve, but didn’t, fool that I was. It pretty much seemed that our performance, once underway so that folks could actually see the blue-clad soldiers exchanging hostilities with those wearing the grey – that was but a safety match set to the dry tinder of the popular imagination. Maybe if my partner Haze’s creations hadn’t been so convincing – but frankly, it seems to me now that they could’ve lacked a great deal in that regard, and any deficiencies woulda been more that overcome by the audience’s feelings being strung to such a high pitch.”
“But surely, this turn of events would not account for the disastrous blow to your fortunes, of which you have previously complained.” I sensed that the American had not yet made a full account of the circumstances that had impelled his escape here to England. “Theatrical riots have occurred before – indeed, there was a time in this country, that such were so frequent as to chase the Bard from the stage, and imperil his life. Englishmen might be a good deal more placid now, but reports of similar havoc, at least in the lower sort of music hall, are not completely unknown.”
“Right you are, George. If that’d been all that happened, our enterprises might well have recovered – or even prospered; as businessmen like us say, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. But as it turned out, there were more disadvantages to the venue’s location than just the audience being hot-collared and all. And for that, how was I to know? I’m no military expert, ‘cept to the degree I can put on a good show, and I’d been so preoccupied with all it took to get ready for our inaugural performance, that I’d paid no mind to the reports in the papers as to the various manoeuvrings of the Union and Confederate armies. Just our luck, then, that we’d managed to plunk ourselves down right betwixt the two of ‘em! And of course, they’d been too busy with their strategies for slaughtering each other, that they weren’t paying any attention to what a couple of impresarios were getting up to with their mechanical soldiers and horses.”