“Old Ben refused to allow anyone to sign the Compact unless the Irrakwa were included as the seventh state, with firm borders, with Reds governing themselves. There were plenty of people who wanted a White man’s nation, but Old Ben wouldn’t hear of it. The only way to have peace, he said, was for all Americans to join together as equals. That’s why his Compact doesn’t allow slavery or even bonding. That’s why his Compact doesn’t allow any religion to have authority over any other. That’s why his Compact doesn’t let the government close down a press or silence a speech. White, Black, and Red; Papist, Puritan, and Presbyterian; rich man, poor man, beggarman, thief—we all live under the same laws. One nation, created out of a single word.”

“American.”

“Now do you see why he calls it his greatest deed?”

“How come the Compact itself ain’t more important?”

“The Compact was just the words. The name ‘American’ was the idea that made the words.”

“It still doesn’t include the Yankees and the Cavaliers, and it didn’t stop war, neither, cause the Appalachee folk are still fighting against the King.”

“But it does include all those people, Alvin. Remember the story of George Washington in Shenandoah? He was Lord Potomac in those days, leading King Robert’s largest army against that poor ragtag band that was all Ben Arnold had left. It was plain to see that in the morning, Lord Potomac’s Cavaliers would overrun that little fort and seal the doom of Tom Jefferson’s free-mountain rebellion. But Lord Potomac had fought beside those mountain men in the wars against the French. And Tom Jefferson had been his friend in days gone by. In his heart he could not bear to think of the morrow’s battle. Who was King Robert, that so much blood should be shed for him? All these rebels wanted was to own their land, and not have the King set barons over them, to tax them dry and turn them into slaves as surely as any Black in the Crown Colonies. He didn’t sleep at all that night.”

“He was praying,” said Alvin.