Yes. Yes, I did. They were made for my father, all but one of them, by my grandfather John Baker, in 1828, when my father was three years old and my grandfather held by the British in Fredericton jail for refusal to pay – on a matter of principle – a fine. He had been granted land by the state of Maine, only to discover it was claimed by the British for New Brunswick and Lower Canada. He petitioned Maine to assert the claim he believed it had over the territory. He obstructed the British constable when the constable came to Madawaska, and he told him he had no jurisdiction.

After several years without satisfaction, on the fourth of July 1827, he declared independence. My grandmother had made a flag, which they raised, and the Republic of Madawaska was born, with the intention of being an interim authority only, and appealing to Maine within a year to annex it. My grandfather was fined twenty-five pounds and refused for some months to pay, spending that time in Fredericton jail until he changed his mind. I told the Tsarevitch all of this, and he seemed to find it diverting.

My grandfather was a practical man, with many skills, and a good-natured man too. The jailer took a liking to him, and enlisted him to make repairs around the place, paying him quite well. Perhaps this was to help him settle his fine. While there, my grandfather’s thoughts often turned to family, and to the youngest of his several sons, my father. My father had taken an interest in a lead figure that was in the house before my grandfather went to Fredericton, so my grandfather attempted to make more to go with it.

He did some work on the jail roof and used some of the surplus lead, pouring it into moulds he had made in the shape of soldiers. He was inexpert in this though, and not well satisfied with his work. He also had some tinplate, which he cut into toy soldiers and painted up as Maine militiamen. Even in Fredericton jail he did that. He had a point to make, and he never stopped making it.

The first figure, the one that had inspired my grandfather to make the set, was a finer piece. It had been brought to the house by a visitor and was said to be Napoleon. That was the figure I had mentioned to the Tsarevitch at the start of the conversation.

I wonder now if this gentle tale provided the Tsarevitch with some wrong-headed kind of reassurance that a revolution might amount to little. That it could be settled with fines and friendly jailers and general decency. But I can’t believe it was my place to tell him about revolution in its usual awful state, brothers bayoneting brothers in the street, civic leaders lynched from the gaslights. What good would that have done? So, I prattled on.