Fates and Traitors Read Online Free

colonists to rebel against King George III and to create their own sovereign, democratic nation. Only weeks after the Sons of Liberty had flung British tea into Boston Harbor, John Wilkes had infuriated monarchists by boldly predicting, in a fiery speech to the House of Commons, that the Colonials would rise to independence and power, to greatness and renown, for they would construct their government “on the solid basis of general, public liberty.”
    â€œWith but a fraction of his namesake’s passion, the blessings of American liberty, and the Booth genius as his birthright, there’s no reason why this child should not become a great American,” his grandfather declared.
    â€œAll I ask is that he not become an actor,” said Junius.
    â€œHe’s so small to bear the weight of such grand expectations,” Mary Ann gently chided Richard, smiling to soften her words. “Let him be a happy child first.”
    But six months later, a startling vision came to her, leaving her with the vaguely unsettling certainty that Richard had made a prophetic choice.
    She was nursing John by the fireside, his head nestled upon the crook of her elbow, his tiny hand resting on her bosom, the fingers splayed. As she gazed into the fireplace, wondering what the future held in store for her beautiful boy, the flames suddenly leapt upward and seemed to form the word “Country.” As she watched, fascinated and frightened, the letters shifted into her son’s name before they faded back into dancing flame.
    What could it mean? she wondered.
    Even as she brooded over the vision, she knew that only time would reveal his destiny. For now, and for many years to come, he wouldsimply be her precious child, whom she loved tenderly and with all her heart.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    J ohn Wilkes was Mary Ann’s ninth child, the fifth of those who yet lived. The eldest, Junius Brutus Booth Jr., had left The Farm a few months after John Wilkes’s birth, much to the chagrin of his parents. For years Richard had tried valiantly to teach his grandson Greek and Latin so that he might be trained as a doctor or lawyer, but despite great efforts to discourage him, June, as they all called him, was determined to become an actor. He had made his debut a few years before while chaperoning his father on tour, playing Tressel to Junius’s Richard III in Pittsburgh when the regular player fell ill. His performance had been in every way underwhelming. “June would make a better merchant than an actor,” Junius had written to Mary Ann afterward, sounding both relieved and disappointed. June evidently had a better opinion of his own talent, for shortly before his eighteenth birthday, he ran off to join a theatre company in Philadelphia. Handsome, athletic, and bearing the famous Booth name, he won several minor roles and performed them competently, though without brilliance. His swordplay was widely admired and his fellow players liked him, but while they offered him warm friendship, they damned him with faint praise. June was fairly good, mutual friends told Junius diplomatically, slow of speech but competent to the limit of his abilities.
    Junius blustered and threatened, but his namesake would not be persuaded to give up his folly and come home. Mary Ann too had misgivings, but what had Junius expected? The children idolized their dramatic, exciting, unpredictable father. They had absorbed Shakespeare at his knee, and they recited verses and soliloquies as other children told riddles. Their home was a treasure vault of scripts, costumes, props, theatre posters, and newspaper clippings of rave reviews. In secret they had watched their father onstage from the wings, awestruck, whenever Mary Ann had been obliged to bring them along to the theatre to collect Junius’s salary before he could drink it away. It would have been more astonishing had June
not
resolved to become an actor, although