‘These trends come and go. We’ve seen it happen time and again. We’ve also seen depressions in trade. But always the best quality cloth has risen above these difficulties and come out on top. Gentlemen, it will happen again.’
To demonstrate his faith in the future, Yuart bought three looms from Lewis Bakerman, who was cutting down, and a steam engine from Joseph Dunne. He was buying top quality wool and making more cloth than ever before, and while other clothiers were reducing their work-force, Yuart’s remained at full strength.
‘There will be no men laid off at Hainault Mill,’ he said, and this popular speech was reported in The Chardwell Gazette, along with an announcement that Mr Yuart had been invited to stand as Conservative candidate for Chardwell and the Cullen Valley in the forthcoming by-election and that he had formally agreed to do so. He would stand against Mr Wyatt Jones, representing the Liberal interest.
Edward Clayton, discussing this item of news with Martin, weighed Yuart’s prospects of success in carving out a career for himself in public affairs.
‘If his optimistic predictions for trade are correct, he will be riding on the crest of a wave. But if they should turn out to be wrong ‒’
A few weeks later, in the same paper, it was announced that Mr Yuart of Hainault Mill had with regret been obliged, for reasons of a private nature, to withdraw himself from the candidature.
Martin, when he read this report, could guess what the private reasons were because by now there were cogent rumours that all was not well with Charles Yuart. The present depression in trade, together with the heavy duty imposed by America on English cloth, had affected the whole of the Cullen Valley, but Yuart, running his mill to capacity, was now suffering worse than most. Not only was he losing his American sales but, in the disturbances in Virginia, a huge consignment of his cloth, waiting to be shipped back to him, had been burnt in a warehouse at Perry Springs. At Hainault, now, only three of his looms were at work, and even this, rumour stated, was merely an act of stubborn defiance. When his stock of wool ran out, Hainault Mill would fall silent. How long for, no one could tell.
Martin heard all these things and feared they were true. And, thinking of Katharine Yuart, he was filled with anxiety for her.
Some five months later, on a wet morning in April, Charles Yuart stood at the window of his solicitor’s office, looking out at the traffic in Bold Street. He was smoking a cigarette, and the hand that held it trembled palpably. Behind him, Alec Stevenson sat at his desk, studying a number of papers and making notes from them. Eventually, he laid three of the papers out before him, and tidied the rest into a pile. Yuart turned and looked at him; came and sat in the visitor’s chair; and stubbed his cigarette out in the ash-tray.
‘Well?’ he said, in a harsh voice.
‘This is a bad business, Charles.’
‘How bad, precisely?’
‘It could not be worse. I’ve been through the figures supplied by your own accountant, Mr Verney, and those supplied by your creditors, and altogether they make sorry reading.’
‘You mean I’m ruined.’
‘It’s not a word I care to use, especially to an old friend, but ‒’
‘It’s true all the same.’
‘I’m afraid it is.’ Stevenson studied Yuart’s face, watching the colour drain from it. But, distressed though he was on his friend’s behalf, he did not mince his words. ‘If only you had come to me when you first began to run into trouble, something might have been done about it, and you might still have been in business. Trade has been slack for two years or more but you have ignored all the signals ‒ buying wool you couldn’t pay for and making cloth you couldn’t sell. You’ve even bought extra looms and made costly changes in your spinning-shop. But in addition to all this I am bound to say that there has been a great deal of extravagance of a private and personal nature.’
‘Not lately, there hasn’t. I’ve been economizing in every way possible. I’ve sold most of the horses at Railes. I’ve reduced the staff ‒’
‘Those economies came too late. I am talking about the past. I’m sorry, Charles, but the truth is you’ve been living beyond your means for years. You have also been overgenerous in making donations to good causes. Now, in the last year or two, you have had a run of bad luck. But this cloth at Perry Springs ‒ even if it had come safely home, with trade here as it is at present, I doubt if you could have sold it even at a knock-down price.’
‘I know that. I have reason to know. I’d be glad if you would stick to the point.’
‘Very well.’ Stevenson consulted his notes. ‘To put it bluntly, your debts are enormous, especially for wool. Thirteen thousand and three hundred pounds to Burrows and Oates. Nineteen thousand to Pirrie and Son. Your coal account stands at twelve hundred pounds and you still owe five hundred on the steam engine you bought from Dunne. Repairs to the dam … and the dyehouse furnace … and certain sums you have borrowed here and there … Five thousand pounds from your brother-in-law, Mr George Winter, and a further three thousand from Henry Preece. Then there are the domestic bills … Rent on the house in Coniston Square … Wine merchant’s and grocer’s bills …’
‘How much do I owe altogether?’
‘Upwards of forty-three thousand pounds.’
‘Shall I have to go through the bankruptcy court? You said you hoped it could be avoided.’
‘Yes. I think we may be able to negotiate a private agreement with your creditors. I’ve already sounded one or two and I think there’s a good chance they’ll agree. Now we come to the subject of your assets, most of which, inevitably, are somewhat problematical. Your warehouse is stacked to the roof with cloth. Its value two years ago would have covered your debts and left you solvent but today it is practically worthless. It will have to go to the auctioneers and in present conditions I doubt very much if it will fetch five thousand pounds. Then, of course, there is the mill.’
Again Stevenson consulted his notes; not because he needed to, but so as to avoid Yuart’s gaze.
‘According to Verney’s estimate, and that of Mr Meed, acting as adviser to your creditors, the mill and its machinery may with luck realize something between three and four thousand pounds.’
‘With luck, did you say?’ Yuart spoke savagely, and Stevenson, obliged to look up, saw that his face was darkly suffused. ‘D’you know what I spent on that new extension? The cost of building alone was close upon seventy thousand pounds, without the plant, and now, together with the old buildings and all the improvements I’ve made on them, Hainault Mill as a whole must be worth twice that at the very least.’
‘Not today, Charles, as you well know. A mill is only worth whatever it will fetch at auction and no man at a time like this will lumber himself with a place like Hainault. Its very size goes against it. You must surely see that.’
Yuart made no answer. Stevenson returned to his notes. ‘Last of the items listed here are a few sums owing to you, which, if we can get them paid, amount to nearly three thousand pounds. So, the estimated value of your assets so far is some twelve thousand pounds. If realized in full ‒ and that is doubtful ‒ it means that your creditors can expect to receive seven shillings in the pound.’
Stevenson laid down his notes and sat back in his chair. After a while he spoke again.
‘There is of course one more realizeable asset we have not yet mentioned.’
‘Yes,’ Yuart said, ‘Newton Railes.’ He drew a deep, quivering breath. ‘Can they make me sell that? The estate came to me through my wife.’
‘Nevertheless, by law it is yours. You know that as well as I do. And certainly they can make you sell it. Being offered only seven shillings in the pound, they are within their rights to press for more. And in the bankruptcy court there would be no question whatsoever but that the estate should be sold. If, however, your creditors agree to a private arrangement, and I’m sure they will, there is just a possibility that they may be lenient. They are almost all Chardwell men and when I lay the full
facts before them I shall, with your permission, of course, remind them that you have done a great deal for this town and been very generous over the years. For one thing, when your father died, you gave Saye House to the Borough, and all its amenities are enjoyed by a great number of people. Whenever money has been needed for worthwhile projects, you have always been one of the first to put his hand into his pocket. You have also been an able and energetic Councillor and a leading light in the Clothiers’ Association. I shall also remind these gentlemen of the benefit we have all derived from your energy and example in promoting our most important trade, which, in recent times, has brought Chardwell to the fore and given it a name known all over the world.’
‘Do you expect to influence them?’
‘Well, here again I have already sounded one or two, and from their response I would say there’s a chance. They know Newton Railes is your wife’s old family home, and as the Tarrants have always been highly esteemed in the district, that is another point which may count in your favour.’
‘Am I to attend the meeting on Friday?’
‘I think, if I’m to plead on your behalf, it would be better if you were not there.’
‘Very well. Let’s hope you are right.’
The two men rose and Stevenson accompanied Charles to the door. They shook hands and Charles said:
‘If only we can save Railes ‒ well, you’ll do what you can, I’m sure of that.’
‘How much have you told your wife? Does she know the seriousness of your position?’
‘Yes. Oh, yes. She knows full well.’
When he got home, Katharine was waiting for him in the morning-room. A tray, with tantalus and glasses, lay on the table, and, the day being wet and cheerless, a good fire burnt in the grate. Charles poured himself a brandy, drank half, and came to stand in front of the fire. Katharine looked up at him.
‘Is it as bad as you feared?’
‘Yes. Worse, if anything, because until now I have been hoping ‒’ He broke off and gave a shrug. ‘Hoping for a miracle, I suppose.’ He drank the rest of his brandy and put the glass on the mantelpiece. ‘I’m ruined, Kate. The mill and everything I’ve worked to achieve ‒ it’s all to be thrown away for nothing. I’m to be beggared. Stripped to the bone. Everything will have to go.’
‘Oh, my dear!’ She rose and went close to him, to take his hands into her own and to hold them an instant against her face. ‘How cold you are. You’re trembling. Let me get you another drink.’
She took down the glass and went to refill it at the tray. She brought it to him and watched him drink. A small sharp shiver went through him, but the brandy was already taking effect, and some slight suggestion of colour could be seen returning to his face. For a while they stood in silence together, close to each other, in front of the fire. Then he leant forward and kissed her cheek; put aside his glass once more; and told her of Stevenson’s hope that his creditors would probably agree to a private settlement of his affairs.
‘And will you be able to pay your debts?’
‘Well, not the whole, of course. That’s what is so damnable. I am forced to sell my very soul and all my creditors are likely to get is seven shillings in the pound! Whereas if they would only give me time ‒ time for trade to pick up again ‒ I could perhaps pay them in full.’
‘Seven shillings? Is that all?’ Katharine looked at him, appalled. ‘Even with the sale of the house?’
‘I’m hoping the house will not have to be sold. Stevenson thinks there’s a good chance that my creditors will not press for it. He intends appealing to them, reminding them that I’ve done a great deal for my home town, one way or another, and that it has good reason to be grateful for my generosity in the past. He feels that it is only right that they should be generous in return.’
‘Do you agree with him?’ Katharine asked. ‘Have you sanctioned this appeal?’
‘Well, I don’t much care for the thought of humbling myself to these men but certainly, as Stevenson says, I have done a great deal for the town and given a great deal, too. And if the only way of keeping Railes is to throw myself on their mercy, then obviously that’s what I must do, and swallow my pride as best I can. Stevenson intends to reinforce his appeal by reminding them that Railes is your old family home. And I should be very surprised, not to say disgusted, if Pirrie and the rest of them were to force the sale of this estate, which has been in your family for so many years.’
There was a silence in the room. Katharine returned to her seat on the sofa. She sat looking up at him.
‘You have spoken of swallowing your pride. But it’s not only your pride that’s at stake. It’s mine as well.’
‘I’m not sure that I take your meaning.’
‘Charles,’ Katharine said, vehemently, ‘surely you can’t possibly consider keeping Railes when it means asking your creditors to be satisfied with so small a proportion of their dues?’
For a long moment he stared at her, an angry flush darkening his face.
‘Small proportion it may be but at least they will still be in business whereas I shall not!’ Then, seeking to gain command of himself, he went on: ‘This is our home. Under the terms of your father’s will, your brother Hugh being dead, it came to you, and thereby to me, and in due course it will go to our son. It is only right that it should. You of all people must feel that! And what is my son going to say to me if I tell him I’m selling Newton Railes which is his by every expectation and right?’
‘Dick is almost thirteen. He is an intelligent boy. He also has a sense of honour. What will he say if you tell him that you intend keeping Railes while leaving your debts unpaid?’
‘Are you trying to suggest that by keeping Railes I should be guilty of a dishonourable act?’
‘I think, because of what has happened, and the shock of it all, you are not seeing things quite as you should.’
‘Indeed?’
‘For instance, what are your plans for the future, now that you know you must leave Hainault?’
‘I shall have to find work, of course. Probably running another man’s mill!’
‘And how much will you earn by that?’
‘Precious little, I assure you!’
‘Then how can we possibly afford to stay here in this house?’ she asked, and, when he failed to answer her: ‘Charles, there is another thing. Supposing, when your creditors meet, they should reject Mr Stevenson’s appeal? How will you feel then? ‒ You will wish it had never been made. You will feel ashamed. Humiliated, even. And, if it matters to you at all, so should I.’
‘From all you have just said to me, it seems that you would feel ashamed even if the appeal were to be successful.’
‘Yes. I should. I could never live happily here again, under such circumstances.’
Watching her husband’s face, and the painful struggle visible in it, Katharine could read his every thought; could feel, in her own heart, all the anguish he felt in his; and she thought how hard it was for a man, at times like this, that he should be denied the relief of tears. Presently he spoke again and his voice, though strained, was under control.
‘You have no wifely qualms, it seems, at forcing my hand in this way. But no doubt you will say that it is the circumstances that force my hand, not you, and that they are of my own making. Well, you are right, of course. But that knowledge, I would point out, doesn’t make it any easier to bear.’
‘I wish there were something I could do, or say, that would make it easier to bear.’
‘I wish it too. But there is nothing. I’m going back to Stevenson now. I will tell him I’ve talked matters over with you and that as a result we have decided that Railes must be offered for sale. Then, later, when I return, I shall have the painful duty of breaking the news to Dick and Susannah.’
‘Would it help,’ Katharine asked, ‘if I were to speak to them first?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think it would.’
Chapter Eight
Martin had been abroad f
or a month, travelling on the Continent. When he stepped from the train at Chardwell station, almost the first thing he saw was a board with two posters on it. One announced the forthcoming sale of Hainault Mill, the other the sale of Newton Railes. Each property was to be sold by auction, without reserve, unless previously sold by private treaty.
Outside, in the station yard, he hired a fly. But he did not go straight home to Fieldings. Instead he went down into the town to call on Sampson Godwin, formerly his guardian, still his solicitor and close friend.
The following morning, at eleven o’clock, Alec Stevenson was shown into the study at Railes, where Charles Yuart sat writing letters. At Stevenson’s request, the servant was sent with a message to Katharine, asking her to join them there. When she and the two men were seated together, Stevenson explained the reason for his visit.
‘I have asked you to be present, Mrs Yuart, because what I have to say concerns you both, though it may not at first be obvious.’ He then addressed himself to Charles. ‘I have been approached by a certain gentleman who has offered to buy Hainault Mill, together with all its machinery, etc., by private treaty, at a price to be agreed, and to let it to you on a three-year lease, at a rent also to be agreed, so that you may resume operations there and begin normal trading again.’
Yuart stared. He answered curtly.
‘Kind of him, whoever he is, but if he is acquainted with my circumstances, as he surely must be, he will know that I have no money to resume operations, nor any hope of obtaining it at the present time.’
‘The gentleman is aware of that and is willing to advance you the sum of two thousand pounds for the purpose, which sum you will repay when the state of your business enables you to do so.’
‘Who is this gentleman?’ Yuart asked sharply.
‘Before answering that question I must, further, inform you that the same gentleman wishes to buy Newton Railes, together with its contents, and has made a specific offer for it.’
‘Very well. You have informed us. Pray go on.’
The Old House at Railes: A heartwarming rags to riches Victorian family saga Page 23
