“How many acres did you purchase, Thomas?”
“Nearly two thousand, a strip of land the better part of four miles from end to end and averaging about six furlongs in width. Sheltered to north and east by higher moorland, steep valley slopes south and west, but this stretch usable. Within reason close to Bob’s main holding, an hour or so on horseback. We think it will take a flock of four hundred. With lambs for butcher’s meat and the wool together he can expect to clear seven or eight shillings an acre. Not like the profits to be made down south. I have heard that Romney Marsh in Kent pastures six sheep to the acre, thirty times our numbers! But that is exceptional, of course, and the price of land and the rental it could command must be enormous.”
“Still, Bob will be looking at ten per centum, annual return, which is good money.”
“It is, while it lasts.”
“The wool industry in Yorkshire is growing almost as fast as cotton, Thomas. Why should it not last?”
“Because the returns are high, brother! I could lay my hands on a hundred thousand acres in Botany Bay, I daresay, and I am quite sure there are men who are doing so. And in the Cape, there are plans for settlers to go there by the shipload, taking up unused lands by the tens of square miles – though the existing Dutch Malays there are not very pleased at the prospect. Boers, they are called, and very keen on their Bibles and not much in love with the English. Not that they count for much, when all is said and done.”
“Malays?”
“The Dutch sent out some thousands of settlers, and every one of them men, so it seems. They also sent slaves across from the Spice Islands, a lot of them female. Two generations on and the Dutch have all got families and no questions asked. Why make a fuss? They seem happy enough and it is none of our business.”
They chuckled, not particularly surprised at any of the antics that foreigners got up to.
“Twenty years and I would not like to guess just how many wool fleeces will come into England annually. The wool industry will grow the more for it, but the price to English farmers must surely fall.”
“But Bob will have his estate, be a landed gentleman, with all that that means to his children.”
Thomas had nothing to say to that, it was unarguable, it was the whole point of the purchase. He did not need moorland acres for he had the inheritance of Freemans, house, park and four farms, three of them at five or six hundred acres and rented out, one Home Farm of just three hundred to feed the family. His own son’s roots in the soil were assured, a fact of public record.
“I must talk with Charlie, I think, Thomas.”
Thomas still had no comment to make – she was a handsome woman and a good catch for any younger son, but he was more than happy with his own, quieter wife. Charlotte had opinions of her own and thoroughly enjoyed airing them, often at length. Matthew was happy in his marriage, so there was nothing to be said.
“Shall we join the ladies, Thomas?”
Neither man was a drinker, two glasses of port amply sufficient for their needs and the demands of conventionality.
Matthew asked Charlie her opinion, whether it was wise for the sake of their son to buy land, even rather poor land such as was to be found up on the moors.
She had no doubts – their son was a gentleman, John Matthew Thomas Star should have an inheritance, not merely of money but of true wealth, Land.
“I have the better part of ten thousands put away, Charlie, separate from the monies that paid for the house and its few acres and the amount in trust to provide you with an income after my death.”
It had been necessary to his pride to make a settlement upon his wife, though she had come with four times as much in her own name as he had been able to offer. All of her trust funds would be distributed in her Will, equally between the younger children, assuming they eventuated; they could not be used to buy land now.
“It is a question, my love, of what is available. Practice in the upland areas would appear to be different to that prevailing further south – little of the hill land is entailed as far as can be discovered. One might, perhaps, wish to purchase wholly unimproved moorland as well as sheepwalks, particularly if any exists near to the towns. Eventually, I suspect, roads will be built and then houses must follow, up in the clean air, out of the dirt and smells of the new slums. If not, then the land may be used for shooting or eventually improved sufficiently for sheep or even the breeding of horses.”
The first need was to discover prices, then to find a seller, or more than one if the land came in small packets.
Discovering a price was easier said than done – deals in land were uncommon, large purchases especially so, in part because to sell one’s land was not respectable, even more because moorland that would hardly return any income was attractive to very few.
Mr Farlow of the firm of Clapperley and Pitt was able to find the little information that was available. He waited on Matthew at the yard, a young man in his company.
“Mr Clapperley, the son of the founder of the firm, Captain Star.”
They shook hands, Clapperley senior being a member of the government and therefore qualifying as a gentleman.
“Mr Clapperley is reading towards qualification as an attorney-at-law, Captain Star. He will, I have no doubt, grace the profession in much the same way as his father has done.”
Matthew had heard just enough about Clapperley not to take that statement at face value.
“Land, Captain Star, in large expanses, is, I understand your interest. In the way of a very long-term speculation, I believe. Close to the towns, sir, not a practical purchase, for several other gentlemen having had the same idea before you. On the higher slopes of the moors, however, it is still possible to buy for pennies, as much because of habit as for any other reason. It has always been the case that such land is worthless; therefore it must always remain so in the rural mind. There are tiny mines in several places, worked by one or two families, the ore brought to town or their own refinery by packhorse. It might be possible to bring a little of modernity to such endeavours – I do not know, have not made an investigation into them. It must certainly be possible to run sheep during the summer months, bringing them down to lower pastures for the winter. I know of at least one local man who follows this practice, taking a hay cut of his pastures and reseeding them with good grasses while the sheep are on the moors. The rentals would be low, but not wholly contemptible.”
Farlow was commissioned to buy where he could, ideally in a single block, and at the lowest price he could attain.
“I shall indeed, Captain Star! I may indeed badger the sellers to meet our desires.”
Matthew had not the least idea what he meant, smiled uncertainly, in the end dismissed it simply as a floridity of expression.
He expected to hear little from Farlow for the next several months; the meanwhile he had much to occupy him.
His father by marriage had taken the time to speak to him at length about his plans for an Orphans’ Academy in Steam Engineering, recognising the wisdom of the comments he had made in the previous year. They agreed that the anomalous position of the steamship engineering officer had to be resolved, and quickly, for there would soon be a demand for many of them.
There were really two problems, naval captains and lieutenants and masters and mates of the merchant marine tending to be different sorts of beasts. It was, however, often the case that un-promoted lieutenants and master’s mates of the navy became merchant seamen, and the Honourable East India Company had its own ways at sea, serving to complicate matters.
Officers were, by tradition of both sea and land, gentlemen. Gentlemen commanded that work should be done and in extremis they might assist in doing it – an artillery officer might lend his muscle to running up a gun when casualties had been such as to render the men incapable without his direct aid. Gentlemen did not, however, expect to dirty their hands on a daily basis, that was not their function in life.
Steam engineers must be men of their
hands, involved every watch in the machinery of the engine. They must command their stokers and lesser mechanicals, must therefore be officers, yet they could not act the part of the gentleman.
The sole solution must be to train inferior mortals to imitate the ways of their betters while performing tasks suited only to the lower classes of artisans. The matter of messing would no doubt cause much debate in naval circles – was the wardroom to be open to engineers?
Whatever the final decision might be, the youths who were to go to sea as engineers must learn to handle knife and fork and drink their tea from bone china. They must be taught the arts of polite conversation and, ideally, must have barbarities of accent polished away. They would, no doubt, show up as no more than imitation gentlefolk, but they must be given a civilised gloss.
Matthew suggested that he should consult with Charlie, together they would draw up a curriculum to augment the purely technical aspects of their training.
“What of seamanship, Matthew? Should they learn to handle small boats or be taught how to stand a watch at the helm?”
“Small boats, yes, sir. Was their ship to founder then they might find themselves senior in a boat that escaped, and in such case they must play the part of the officer. And, of course, we must not forget Captain Bligh who was able to save his men only through the most outstanding seamanship.”
“I had thought every sailor might wish not to be reminded of that gentleman, Matthew!”
“A man who could sail more than two thousand miles in an overcrowded small boat? No seaman could forget that. His service at Camperdown should not be forgotten, either. His ship fought with the best there.”
“Less successful in Antipodean climes, however.”
“I will admit, sir, that two mutinies may be regarded as excessive. Though his deposition as Governor of Botany Bay may have been caused by his attempts to clean up the corruption there, so might actually be to his credit.”
“To an extent, perhaps. Mostly, I had heard, the cause was that he had a vicious, sarcastic, bullying tongue, could reduce the strongest to tears of humiliation, and enjoyed doing so.”
Matthew had heard the same from men who had sailed with Bligh and had not enjoyed the experience.
“Perhaps all sea-officers might attend a college, sir, and learn the arts of gentility.”
Tom had heard of worse ideas, but doubted that he would put this one forward to the Admiralty.
“Will you meet Mr Saul Mostyn when he comes to Liverpool to oversee the first steps to purchase, next month?”
“He could stay as a guest with us, sir. He is a Jew, I know, but that does not make him unwelcome in our house, sir.”
Charlie, when consulted, agreed, though with doubts about the housekeeping.
“He will be welcome, of course. What about dining with us? I have heard some mention of dietary laws, of unacceptable foodstuffs.”
Tom and Matthew, considering the question, said that they had come across some mention of that themselves. Frances was not in the room, was consulted as their first reference on so rarefied a matter.
“Pork? I am sure that my father would never have pig-meat in any form on the table if there was a member of the Jewish faith amongst our guests. I think there are other meats on the forbidden side, but I am not sure which. I am certain that chicken and lamb and beef are acceptable, or, at least, I think so…”
Tom pledged himself to call on Goldsmid – their long association should make it possible to broach the matter with him without seeming discourteous.
Charlotte was becoming bored with the demands of housekeeping. Eight bedrooms and one small son made too little a demand on her intelligence and there was no estate to busy herself on. The rector of the parish had certainly offered her the opportunity to involve herself in good works, which seemed to encompass the distribution of tea and sympathy to the poor and very little else at all. She could, perhaps, join the knitting circle, producing warm winter garments for the elderly and small children of the unfortunate.
Her brother’s wife, who was also her husband’s sister, which complicated the relationship to a significant degree, and meant that those cousins would certainly be discouraged from marrying each other, presented a partial solution.
They visited frequently, courtesy demanded that they must, living within easy reach of each other and closely related. It was a pity perhaps that neither really liked the other, nor ever had done as children, but politesse demanded that they should ignore such a triviality.
The problem was that each was obviously intelligent, possibly more so than was entirely desirable or appropriate for a well-born female in common opinion. Being thus out of the ordinary it seemed to each that she should be the most intelligent woman of her acquaintance, so as to make a thorough job of defying convention, but each had a suspicion that the other outstripped her intellectually. It made for a prickly relationship; they had spent most of their childhood meetings scoring points off each other, dropping the names of authors, artists and composers together with throwaway references to their oeuvres which they hoped the other might not catch. As adults they were, quite naturally, above such things, although Charlotte brought the name of her son into their conversations quite frequently, sufficiently that Mary Andrews was a little tired of John Matthew Thomas Star.
It was Mary’s turn to visit Charlotte, her carriage arriving soon after eleven o’clock, almost the earliest time possible for a morning visit and exciting a little interest in itself.
Greetings were exchanged, dresses and hats and bonnets correctly complimented, each being sure she liked what the other was wearing. They sat opposite each other in the larger withdrawing room, a small table drawn up with tea-tray and fresh-baked biscuits between them. Charlotte glanced at Mary’s waistline, saw no evidence that it might be expanding, wondered what might be the cause of the early visit.
Mary gestured at a pair of watercolours on the wall, technically correct, accurate but uninspired portrayals of Thingdon Hall and its gardens from different viewpoints, produced by Charlotte’s own hand at the urging of her governess.
“I could never do that, draw or paint, that is. I tried, oh, how I tried, to satisfy Miss Martynside and her insistence that young gentlewomen must be able to draw and sew and embroider finely, but my fingers were all thumbs and I never could achieve her standard.”
Miss Martynside, Charlotte remembered, had been a very genteel governess, concerned to coerce her girls into strict conformity to every single one of society’s standards and rules, acknowledged and unwritten quite equally. Book-learning had been less of a priority, she believed – husbands rarely wanted a blue-stocking as a wife, she said. Fortunately for Mary her father had insisted that she be easily literate and free to follow the demands of her intellects, but there had been a number of conflicts.
Charlotte had been more fortunate in her governess, but also had had less interest in a scientific analysis of the world about her. She had had quick hands as well and had quite enjoyed the feminine arts – she liked embroidery and was working now on a table-cloth of her own choosing and design and looking forward to displaying the finished product.
“Your brother, Joseph, has produced in rough outline a number of sketches of mechanisms for his ships and engines and coal-handling cranes. It seems to me that it would be very useful to him if those rough outlines could be drawn precisely to form and scale. It would be easier then for Lord Andrews and Mr Robert Andrews to understand exactly what he was proposing, if they could only see a drawing of the end project.”
It was an interesting proposal in its own right, and would besides be of intrinsic worth to the Family. Charlotte gave immediate assent and the parlour maid was sent to instruct Mrs Mary Andrews’ groom to bring in the portfolio from the front seat of the closed carriage.
“A new carriage, Mary?”
“Mr Andrews insisted that I must have more protection than the hood of the gig could offer. It rains so often here in Lancashire and the winters
are cold as well, so he said.”
A pair of Welsh-bred carriage horses, reasonably well-matched and costing the better part of two hundred guineas, she suspected, and her own groom, as well as the carriage itself at not less than one hundred and fifty. With tack as well, four hundred pounds, and at least a hundred a year in feed and wages – young Joseph must be making good money, or spending it carelessly; she made a mental note to talk to her brother, ensure that he was not becoming spendthrift, was not being led into bad habits.
That led to consideration of Matthew’s intent to buy stretches of moorland, more for its future worth than for immediate rental value. She mentioned the scheme to Mrs Mary Andrews, wondering if she had an opinion for having been born amongst these hills.
“My husband has followed the same course, Charlotte. He has purchased quite large tracts of moorland, mostly upland valleys as yet difficult to access because canals would be far too expensive. We believe that there may be large deposits of coal and iron ore to be discovered, and when the steam trackways spread across the land then mines will become a profitable venture.”
Charlotte translated that in her own mind to a certainty that the minerals were present. A geologist-surveyor had been put to work she was quite certain; there were only a few of such in existence, most coal mines had been known of forever as tiny drifts, had been expanded from ancient workings. Very few mines had been sunk from previously untouched pastures. She must identify a man to ride the moors that interested Matthew, just to discover whether there might be potential workings, and to ensure that they too bought up the right hillsides.
The maid brought in the portfolio and Mary brought out a folder relating to the manufacture of bearings for paddle-wheels, explaining the technical jargon and trying to simplify a set of concepts that, from long familiarity, were quite obvious to her.
“There is much mention of brass, bronze and gun-metal, Mary. Are the metals quite different or are the names interchangeable?”
Illusions Of Change (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 6) Page 15
