Illusions Of Change (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 6)

by Andrew Wareham

The Governor was the prime mover in the canal to connect the Hudson to Lake Erie and had been able to commit some seven millions of dollars of state money to the project. He was continually in support of backers for the waterway and lived in a condition of fear that his political enemies would put together a coalition against him that would abandon the works, losing all the money thus far committed and, naturally, blaming him for the waste of precious funds.

  “Not as such, sir, I have never had the opportunity to become involved. The English firms I am associated with have some knowledge of the field and, particularly, have made themselves leaders in the field of steam navigation. The firm of Roberts Ironfounders have built, I believe, more tugging boats than any other in the whole of Britain, and are expanding their interests to the Mississippi. I presume that steam would be of value for some or all of your canal, sir.”

  “Along the Hudson River, most definitely, Mr Miller We already have steam passenger packets there, as you know, though not Fulton’s original boats. We are building a wide canal, not to be restricted to narrow boats as is generally the case in England, and it should be easier to establish yards on the Great Lakes to build steamers there.”

  “Might I presume to mention your project to Captain Matthew Star, of Liverpool, who has charge of the steam building yards for Roberts?”

  “I would be interested to hear all that he has to say, sir.”

  There were American owned yards building in steam in New York already and it seemed very unlikely that Roberts would or could set up business in the Northern States, but there was no harm in showing willing.

  Thomas Miller sat down with his father next morning, their normal business meeting. When all was concluded they discussed the previous evening’s success.

  “You talked long with Governor Clinton, Thomas?”

  “Mostly about his canal, sir. Three years from now and it will be complete. There will be a direct route from the port of New York to the Great Lakes, then an easy passage by water to the north of the Great Plains. The whole of the mid-west will be opened to settlers, with a simple means to freight wheat and hides to the East Coast. I suspect, sir, that for every hundred of settlers today there will be a thousand in five years, ten thousand within the decade. The proprietors of steamers on the Lakes, and of small port facilities, will be in the way of making a fortune.”

  “What an interesting prospect, my son! Now then, what should be our first step? I presume we should scout out sites for wharves and boatyards?”

  A long discussion and they had decided on the shape their investment should take, adding timber yards to take advantage of the huge lumber industry at the canal head in Albany.

  “Twenty years in the fruition, Thomas. This will be one for you to finish, I believe!”

  It seemed very probable. The colonel himself was none too certain of his exact age but he was fairly sure he was closer to seventy than sixty and he was starting to look mortality in the face; he was not too concerned, he had had an enjoyable life on balance and was leaving a well-off family behind. Few people could claim more.

  Mrs Lettice Miller sipped tea in company with her husband’s mama, again discussing the success of the previous evening.

  “I would expect to receive cards of invitation by the score from tomorrow morning, Lettice. Will you object if I assist you to winnow through them, suggesting those that should and should not be accepted?”

  Lettice’s father had explained to her the necessity of taking advice on the acquaintances she should make in America, emphasising that she must never embarrass her husband politically.

  “I had very much hoped you would, ma’am. I would wish to assist Mr Miller in every way I can and as such your knowledge must be of great value to me.”

  “I am so pleased to hear you say that, my dear! The great need is to avoid any connection with the sachems of Tammany Hall.” She explained the Indian word and Tammany Hall’s adoption of so many Native American terms as a means of showing their adherence to the new country and rejection of the old. “They are politically active amongst the poorest and newest citizens and can be very unsubtle in their patronage. At the moment their fortunes are at a low ebb, but a great influx of immigrants would give them much more power. They are strong amongst the Irish, especially, and a flood of Paddies would be a disaster for our interests in the City, so much so that I believe the colonel would be inclined to move out and settle towards the south, in Richmond perhaps.”

  Lettice knew nothing of the Irish Question and as much about Richmond, enquired where the town was situated and what its attractions were.

  “Virginia, the capital of the state and one of the more progressive cities in the South. You will be aware that the South is more sympathetic to the concept of the ‘gentleman’, and is in many ways more attractive to those who remain Anglicised. There are many there who regret that the Revolution was so thorough, they believe in fact that an accommodation could have been reached with the English that would have granted each individual state effective self-rule whilst still retaining a nominal loyalty to the Crown. The creation of an independent United States was desired more by France than by the great bulk of Americans, many believe, especially in the South.”

  “It is, however, ma’am, too late to remedy the situation now.”

  “Not necessarily, Lettice! The States had the freedom to enter into the federal compact, and many hold it self-evident that they therefore have the freedom to leave it again.”

  Lettice’s knowledge of law and constitutional practice did not extend that far and she had no comment to make.

  “What can you tell me of Society in New York, ma’am? What are the pitfalls?”

  Her father had warned her to acquaint herself with local habits – it would be possible to cause offence in ignorance that might take many years to forget.

  “Alcohol, my dear, is a major trap for the unwary from England. Do not touch a drop of the Demon! Water, coffee, tea, lemonade, but never let even thrice-watered wine pass your lips or you will be instantly labelled a Scarlet Woman by many, if not all, of the ardent church-goers. The churches, by the way, are full - morning, afternoon and evening. If your place of worship offers three services, attend them all! Unless things have changed greatly since I was a girl then church-going is no more than a form in England, a sop to public opinion; here, a devout appearance is essential. Never a word of criticism of the church to pass your lips, never a question or a doubt!”

  Lettice came from estates deep in West Wales, the only reverend of the Established Church their own chaplain, the rest of the land given over to various Non-Conformist chapels which were often seen as no more than a laughing-stock by the gentry. Religious observances were limited in frequency and significance.

  Her doubts showed in her face.

  “Not to worry! I shall accompany you, the ladies of the family always attending the same place of worship in company with each other. Just remember to keep your eyes downcast – modesty above all – and murmur your agreement with all that the senior matrons of the church have to say. Do not give the slightest sign of thought or intelligence and they will be happy to make you welcome!”

  It occurred to Lettice that Mrs Colonel might well be something of a hypocrite, but, if that was what was needed, well and good! She could fit in, must do so, for the family’s sake.

  Book Six: A Poor Man

  at the Gate Series

  Chapter Eight

  The rector closed his book and addressed a few words of condolence to Jonathan Quarrington as the sexton and his labourer picked up their shovels. The grave, already the resting place of his mother, was to close over his father, gone to his long home after stumbling on the staircase and breaking a hip a month before.

  The assembled gentry shifted aside, made a passageway down which Jonathan walked to lead them into his father’s – his own – house, just a hundred yards from the church and the same distance from the Quaker Meeting House his father had built. The baked meats of the funer
al feast awaited them.

  Three hours later and the last of the mourners had left, only the family attorney remained. Tradition demanded that the Will should now be read, a pointless exercise because Jonathan had discussed it at length with his father in the year before his death, the old man recognising his own growing frailty. His sisters had already been bequeathed the whole of their mother’s portion, as was normal practice, and had received generous dowries at marriage, and the Will left them only keepsakes, treasured personal possessions of their father’s and some of their mother’s jewellery. The remainder - all of the land; their father’s holdings of Consols; properties in Cheltenham and Cirencester and Gloucester; shares in two canals and a turnpike; full ownership of one coal mine in South Wales and part of another; cash in a bank account and a small amount of coin in the strongbox – fell directly into Jonathan’s hands.

  “I wish to create an entail, Mr Bates,” Jonathan told the attorney. “In the male line, of course, of all the estates and the pits and the canals and turnpike. The town houses should be put into a Trust for the benefit of my three daughters, and any further younger children, equally shared, to provide them with an income for life if unwed or to form a part of their dowry on marriage. Can that be done?”

  “It certainly could, Mr Quarrington. Might I recommend, rather strongly in fact, that the transport undertakings should not form part of the entail? My son, my second boy, Barnabas, has taken employment with a firm of manufacturers in South Wales; they produce parts for steam engines, amongst other things no doubt, and he tells me that the day of steam trackways is nearly upon us. He argues, persuasively, that once they arrive, at most twenty years from now, quite possibly less, they will begin to connect every town in the country, one to another, and will enable wagon loads of goods to travel at more than ten miles an hour! One hundred miles in a day, possibly twice that if they run at night! Cost he does not know, but the canals will be hard-pressed to compete with them.”

  “You suggest that the canal shares will fall greatly in price?”

  “In part, sir, but my prime argument is that the canals commonly follow the best route overland – climbing as few hills as possible to avoid expensive and slow locks, and joining every profitable centre of population. The new trackways will quite probably seek to buy up the canals, or purchase land beside them, and if your holdings are in entail it will be a tedious and expensive process to sell them, a court order probably necessary.”

  It was a good argument.

  “Thank you, Mr Bates. I shall follow your suggestion. Can you make provision in the entail that the current holder of the lands shall always have the latitude to sell or long-lease rights of way to any new trackways that wish to cross the family acres?”

  That was a new idea, and as such abhorrent to the lawyer, but he thought it might not be impossible to achieve. He would take advice.

  Jonathan signed appropriate documents and instructions to his bankers and took final responsibility for the family fortunes.

  He was a wealthy man, he realised, his own very respectable accumulation from his days as a merchant added to the much greater sum left by his father to make him one of the richest landowners in the Welsh Marches. The family was of good birth as well, his mother a Masters and his father born of a line of squires of broad acres tracing back to Elizabethan days. Such being the case, was it appropriate that he should be no more than a ‘mister’? He would need to take advice from members of the family who had more direct political influence, but a barony seemed only reasonable, a recognition of his importance.

  Besides wealth the family had four boroughs in its direct control, one of them the seat of Mr James Andrews. He must speak to Mr Andrews, discover what if any his political leanings might be, and then talk to his father, Lord Andrews, who would certainly be able to point him in the right direction to procure his peerage.

  A starting point must be attendance at a levee. He had never made his bow to Royalty nor had he shown himself in Town, and he could not expect social preference as an absolute unknown. That demanded formal acceptance of the rules of Society, a course long urged upon him by his ultra-respectable wife; she was a Minchinhampton, one of those families that generally chose not to parade with the social butterflies of the Seasons but could if it wished.

  He had sometimes wondered why it had been intimated to him that he, although an outsider, might consider marriage with one of their daughters, whether he would one day discover that there had been a long-term strategy just coming to fruition. The reason, in fact, was quite simple. The two elder sisters had married at eighteen, as was normal, to husbands carefully selected from the very few families considered eligible, and had produced at age nineteen babies with a total of twenty-four fingers and toes apiece. This was considered undesirable.

  Consultation with the wise and medically learned led to the conclusion that the family needed an influx of fresh blood. Too many first cousins, it was suggested, had wed each other for too many generations. Mr Quarrington had been chosen because he was known locally, of an age, wealthy, well-born but of rural stock and had no relationship with the Minchinhamptons inside the last six generations.

  The only son had also been married off outside of the normal nexus, and it was hoped that the family would survive for another century or two of clandestine influence and unstated power.

  Jonathan had caused a few eyebrows to be raised amongst the Minchinhamptons for his refusal to travel to London or to play any great part in the County’s social existence. He must now remedy that failing.

  First and most important was his appearance; he must banish the slight tendency towards the raffish that he had displayed since his return from the States. The curling mustachios must go, because they were a deliberate statement of unconventionality. Fashion decreed that the younger male must be clean-shaven, though mutton-chop whiskers were permitted to the elderly. He must as well patronise a tailor, one of the few in London, not the worthy gentleman of Gloucester who had sufficed so far. He called for his valet.

  “We must go to London, Dowland. To your undoubted pleasure, you must render me bare upon my upper lip and make your choice of tailors. I shall arrange to attend a levee later in the year, and you will wish to have all to hand. I intend to be present for much of the Season next year, as well.”

  His valet had suffered nearly fifteen years, had almost given up hope that his master would eventually assume his obligations. He permitted himself a smile and left to hone his razors. The abomination would be excised from his master’s face before he slept that night.

  As an afterthought, Jonathan made his way to his wife’s sitting-room, found her relaxing from the day’s exertions, her feet upon a pouffe and her slippers discarded. She was acutely embarrassed to be discovered in such a state of dishabille, was quite unable to address him until she had retrieved the offending footwear.

  “I am come to beg your advice, ma’am! It seems to me that I must amend my way of life, would you not agree?”

  She was not the quickest-witted of mortals, did not understand him at all.

  “As the lord of the manor, of several manors, indeed, I feel that I must adopt a more conventional existence in dress and appearance. To that end, ma’am, I intend to visit London in a few days, to patronise a tailor. I shall also be meeting with numbers of my acquaintance in order to facilitate our attendance at next year’s Season. I must before then make my bow to the sovereign, I believe. The Masters and Andrews interests can arrange that, I trust, and I have no doubt you would wish to mention my intentions in your next letter to your mama. What steps must I take to establish our place in the society of the County? Will you accompany me to Town? I feel sure that you will wish to patronise a couturier.”

  She was certain that she must go to Town, she had literally nothing in her wardrobe, she said, that she could be seen in at any public function.

  “Then I have been remiss and I apologise, ma’am. You will refurbish as you wish and will not concern yours
elf about the bills. I would wish to leave by the end of the week, though I know you have a great deal to do.”

  She had work to keep her busy for the year, but the rehabilitation of her husband was of the first importance. She would be ready to go on Thursday morning, she said.

  The family was to take up residence in the largest of the Quarrington manor houses now that the old man had left it. The move of houses would be entirely her responsibility and demanded her active oversight, which would not be available. An hour’s consideration led her to send a stable-boy with a note to her mother, begging that lady’s presence in her enforced absence, and explaining why. The matriarch was at her side before noon next day, loins metaphorically girded for the fray. Jonathan took one look and made her welcome, begging her to treat the staff as her own and thanking her very humbly for coming to their rescue; ten years of marriage had taught him much of wisdom.

  “I am happy to assist, Mr Quarrington! It is only appropriate that you should respond to your respected father’s death by assuming his mantle of respectability and sobriety and I am very glad to see you do so.”

  Respectability was no problem, but he trusted she did not take the word ‘sobriety’ too literally; he liked a drop of whisky, not too much, but he imported a few bottles from the States each year, for old times’ sake.

  He kept open house on the following day, in the expectation that every one of his tenants who lived within reasonable reach, from the largest farmer to the meanest cottager, would pay him a correct duty call. The procedure was a formality, except that tenancies were signed for, normally, seven years, or the lifetime of either party if that were shorter. Theoretically at least, every tenancy on the state had been determined upon his father’s death and he might demand that any or all should quit at next Quarter-Day. There was no reason to suppose that he might evict any of his tenants, but he had the power to do so, and that predisposed them all to be very polite.