by R J Lynch
Thomas had once been astonished to find Blakiston on his knees in the church. It had been when the overseer was looking for the murderer of old Reuben Cooper, but Blakiston’s presence in church had been nothing to do with that. Blakiston had been grieving over the ill-treatment he had once meted out to a trusting young woman in his home parish in Hampshire and it had been clear to the rector that what had fired this regret had been the overseer’s newly discovered love for a woman Blakiston refused to name that day – the woman he was finally to wed this coming Sunday.
Thomas felt a similar astonishment now, because he was under no illusions about Job King: King did not believe a word of the Gospels and the sermons he heard in this place each Sunday, and yet here he was on his knees just as Blakiston had once been. Something must be going on in the man’s head to have brought this about.
Thomas knelt beside him. ‘Job King. It is good to see you here. Is there anything you would like to discuss with me?’
King shook his head. ‘Nothing, Rector. The lease is coming to an end and I must soon decide between staying here permanently and returning to the colonies.’
‘You seek God’s guidance on the matter?’
A hint of a smile touched the corners of King’s lips. ‘You know, it is a big decision, and would involve a long and sometimes hazardous journey. I must seek inspiration from every possible source.’
The rector smiled. He knew that he had not received an answer to his question but, as he had expected none, he was untroubled. ‘Well, Mister King, we have grown used to seeing you here and the parish is better for your presence. And especially the parish’s poorer members. Whatever decision you arrive at, I wish God’s blessing upon you.’
Chapter 21
While the rector was talking to Job King, Blakiston was speaking to Tom Laws, who wanted to unburden himself of the conversation with his brother at Durham jail. Blakiston said, ‘So that was the only reason he attempted to brain me? Because he had formed a desire for Kate and thought that I would stand in his way? Rightly, of course, for I would and do.’
‘That is what he says, Master.’
‘And you believe him?’
‘Yes, Master. I do.’
‘Hmm. Well, I suppose it may be so. It was foolish, for he had no hope of ever winning Kate for himself and he caused himself to be thrown into that dreadful place.’
‘Do you think he could now be released, Master?’
‘I don’t know, Tom. I have no power to release him. The rector is a Justice of the Peace; I shall ask his advice.’
‘Thank you, Master. Master, Joseph’s time in there has already been…’
‘Yes, Tom, I know what you want to say. I will get the rector’s advice as quickly as I can. In fact, although I have other things to do, I shall go there now. If the rector says the word, Joseph can be released today.’
‘Thank you, Master.’
And so Blakiston put aside what he had intended to do next in order to consult the rector about the release of Joseph Laws. Before he could get to the point of his visit, he had to listen to Thomas’s report of Job King’s visit. ‘He said he was seeking guidance on whether he should remain here when his lease falls due or whether he should return to the Americas.’
‘Thomas, you speak those words with a certain touch of doubt.’
‘Oh, James, you of all people know that unaccustomed visitors do not always tell the whole truth to the vicar when they are found in church and on their knees, for you did not.’
‘That is true, Thomas. And so, what do you think might have been the reason for his prayers?’
‘I have no idea. And it may have been as he said. But he seemed in pain. You know, it is sometimes only when they find themselves in extremis that people who have not previously shown an inclination to ardent worship turn to the church. Something may have troubled Job King as the man from whom he takes his name was troubled. Who can tell? If he finds himself in such need of solace that he turns to me, then I shall know – but, of course, I will not be able to tell you. It will be a matter between him, me and God. But since his explanation was such a clear falsehood, I need not be troubled to keep his confidence. Now. Tell me what brings you here?’
And Blakiston did, and Thomas said that the prisoner could be released on his written say-so, but that he recommended that no release take place until the following Monday.
‘Why the delay?’ asked Blakiston.
‘Because you are to be married on Sunday and it was an ill-conceived passion for your bride that caused Laws to launch his attack on you. Do you not feel that it would be better to keep him away from here on Sunday?’
Blakiston gave that a little thought and then agreed.
‘And where is he to go after his release?’ said Thomas. ‘Back to Hope House Farm?’
‘No,’ said Blakiston, amazed at himself that he had so far failed to address that simple question. ‘He has no wife; his farm will either become part of Chopwell Garth or another farmer will take over its running; I doubt that he would wish to be a labourer on his younger brother’s farm; I doubt equally that his younger brother would think that a good idea; and in any case we have enough labourers. He will have to go to one of the mining villages that are springing up, may God help him.’
‘He has no wife,’ agreed Thomas, ‘but he does have a small child. He cannot look after the boy while he is underground. And he certainly cannot take the boy there with him.’
Blakiston reflected on the rector’s words. Joseph Laws had damaged Blakiston’s knee and attempted to beat his brains from his skull. Blakiston could not have been criticised if he had decided that the man must simply take his chances in the world. But it was not as simple as that. Joseph Laws was the brother of Tom Laws and Tom Laws was married to Kate’s older sister, Lizzie. He said, ‘You raise important questions, Thomas. I shall have to think on them.’
‘I suggest you do so before he is released from prison and not afterwards.’
Chapter 22
As it happened, a similar conversation was taking place at Chopwell Garth. When Tom and Ned had returned with the news that Mister Blakiston would ask the rector how to get Joseph Laws released from prison, Florrie said that they had better know before Joseph came out what they were going to do about him. The last time Joseph’s future had been discussed – before he had assaulted Blakiston – Kate had had wished upon her a removal to Hope House Farm that she had very much resented. She was grateful now that she would be married and away from the farm and so would not be involved in whatever was decided. In fact, she did not even need to take part in the discussion – and so she did not.
Lizzie said, ‘Tom, you don’t want him to live here, do you?’
‘I don’t see how he can, even if I did want it. He can’t be a labourer here. I could not afford to pay him anything but a labourer’s wages, I would have to lay someone else off and I don’t believe that Mister Blakiston would let me.’
Florrie said, ‘No. But there is the question of little Samuel.’
With a severity that surprised the others, Lizzie said, ‘Samuel is not Joseph’s child.’
‘No,’ said Florrie, ‘but that is not Samuel’s fault and the law and the church – and the overseers of the poor – would say that Joseph is Samuel’s father.’
Tom said, ‘Joseph can’t keep Samuel with him unless he has a wife to look after the boy.’
‘Not unless they lived here,’ said Florrie.
‘Which we have already agreed Joseph is not going to do,’ said Lizzie. ‘Oh, I know you think I’m being hard, and mebbes I am, but I’m trying to avoid trouble and trouble there would be eventually if Joseph lived here where Tom – his younger brother – is the farmer and Joseph is picking up whatever work there may be. Samuel can live here, of course he can, for as long as he needs to and until he is grown up if that’s how it happens. We already have Lulu; what is one more child to care for? If Joseph gets himself a wife and wants Samuel with him, then of course Samue
l will have to go.’
Florrie said, ‘That would be a terrible wrench for the boy if it doesn’t happen for a year or two. He’d be settled here with us and then have to go somewhere else where he didn’t know them. Because, by that time, he will not know Joseph.’
‘Yes,’ said Tom, ‘and it’s a pity, but he’d hardly be unusual. You raised Lizzie and Kate and Ned, but you weren’t the mother to all three because Lizzie’s mam died and her father married you because he needed a mother for her and her older brother.’ No-one raised an eyebrow at this because it was a simple statement of fact. Life among the labouring classes in 1760s Durham was precarious. If a man or a woman died with children still at home and not of working age, the one who was left married again – and, almost always, more children were born. If there was another adult death, the family would go through the whole cycle again. These were not love matches; they were born of necessity but for the most part they worked. People made them work. It was better to be in a marriage where there was at least some degree of affection than one totally without love.
Florrie said, ‘No, it would not be unusual, but it would still be a wrench. In any case, if Joseph is not to work on this farm, and if we can assume that Mister Blakiston would be unhappy to have him working on another…’
‘And I think we can assume that,’ said Tom.
‘Then what is to become of him?’
‘He must go either to a pit village where he can work in the mines or to a town where he can work in a manufactory,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’m sorry, Tom, I know he’s your brother and I know no-one who has spent his whole life working on the land is going to want to work beneath it, but the facts are the facts.’
Tom nodded. ‘I know that. I think Joseph will know it, too. He has been a fool. A fool to marry a woman like Margaret and an even bigger fool to attack Mister Blakiston.’
Lizzie said, ‘Do we need to discuss this – do you need to discuss this – with Mister Blakiston?’
‘I don’t know whether I need to or not, but I know that not a day passes without him arriving here apparently to talk to me about work but really to bill and coo with your sister there. He’s bound to turn up today and I shall tell him then what we have decided.’
Kate laughed.
Later that day, it was Blakiston’s turn to laugh, and this time with delight when he was on his way to Hope House Farm to make sure, now that the harvest was over, that everything there was as it should be in the absence of a permanent farmer. He heard the rapid drumming of hooves behind that said someone was in a hurry to catch up with him. He reined in Obsidian and turned, one hand on the butt of a pistol – but this was no highwayman. It was his brother, Peter, a naval officer now on shore leave and here to be his groom’s man. The two leapt from their horses, swept the three-cornered hats from their heads and clasped each other’s shoulders – the closest English men of their class and generation could possibly come to embracing each other.
‘Peter! My dear chap! But how did you know where to find me?’
‘I arrived at the inn not thirty minutes ago. They are looking after my horse; they gave me the use of this one. And they told me the road you had been seen riding down and the place they believed you might be going to. And here you are.’
‘And here I am.’ Blakiston raised himself once more into the saddle. ‘And delighted to see you. Ride with me. There is a farm I wish to visit and after that we shall return to the inn, take some breakfast, and you must give me all your news.’
As they rode along, Blakiston said, ‘Did you come straight here from the port?’
‘I have been two days in Burley.’ As he said this, his manner lost a little of its brightness.
‘Ah. And have you news of Burley doings?’
‘Much, brother. But I think there are only two people there who would concern you now.’ Blakiston waited in silence. Peter went on, ‘She to whom you were once engaged married another.’
‘Yes. I knew that.’
‘But I think you did not know that she died in giving birth to her first child.’
Blakiston fell silent. Both men knew the dreadful risks that women took when they became pregnant. Every time a woman gave birth, she faced a possibility of more than one in a hundred that she would not survive more than ten days after the birth. Peter let him absorb the news without interruption and then said, ‘The child did not survive.’
‘I am sorry.’
‘Yes.’ What else was there to say?
‘And the other?’
Peter’s face brightened. ‘I believe the overseers of the poor no longer claim against your bastardy bond.’
‘That is true. Not this year, and not last. Is the child dead?’
‘No, for I have seen him and he looks in fine fettle. His mother married a schoolmaster. From what I’ve seen, I believe she is happy. And she has given her new husband a daughter to go with the son you left for him.’
‘I am glad. I was thoughtless and callous towards her. I thank the fates that have brought her to this better life.’ They both knew, as they knew the dangers faced by pregnant women, how difficult it could be for a respectable young woman to overcome the shame of a child born out of wedlock enough to find a husband. ‘Her schoolmaster must be a good man. Now, this is Hope House Farm and I must talk to the people here. Come with me.’
It was clear that Susannah the maid was pleased to see Blakiston. ‘Master. Jemmy Rayne wishes to fix a date for our wedding. William Snowball left here after the harvest, and Dick Jackson comes here now only to sleep and eat.’
‘Does he indeed? The impertinence.’
‘Well, Master, I am pleased that he does since no-one is coming for the eggs and I need to find a use for them. Jeffrey Drabble is still here, of course. But, sir, I need to give an answer to Jemmy Rayne, or he may believe I do not want to wed him and he may look for someone else.’
Blakiston smiled. They could not allow that to happen – when all was said and done, a maid with a temper like Susannah’s would struggle to find another good man and Blakiston knew that a good man was what Rayne was. He said, ‘Where is Drabble now?’
‘I am here, sir,’ said Drabble. ‘When you arrived, I was…’ He gestured through the back door to where the privy was sited on the other side of the yard.
Blakiston felt rather than saw his brother’s smothered smile. ‘Well, these things must be taken care of. And you are still here as caretaker.’
‘Yes, sir. Sir, we heard that Joseph Laws might be released soon. Will he return here as farmer?’
‘He will not. I have a decision to make and the decision is: do I find a new farmer for Hope House or do I join it with Chopwell Garth? I will make that decision this week. As soon as I make it, you will be released, Drabble.’ He turned to Susannah. ‘You, too. Whoever takes over here will need to bring a maid of their own. You may tell Jemmy Rayne that you will be at his command from Sunday on.’
‘Thank you, Master. And Dick Jackson? Am I to continue to give him his breakfast?’
‘Until Drabble leaves here and ceases to want his company, you may do so. After that, not. And I shall see that someone is taking care of the eggs from next week. What of butter and cheese? You are still milking the cows, I take it?’
‘Master, because no-one was taking it away, I have made only enough butter for me and the two men. The rest of the milk has gone into making more cheese, because cheese does not suffer from being left on the shelf in the way that butter does.’
Indeed,’ said Blakiston, ‘in fact it improves. Drabble, take some of the older cheese and carry it to the rector. Tell him it comes from me. The rector can never have too much cheese.’ He turned to his brother. ‘Let us return now to the inn.’
When they got there, Blakiston said, ‘This inn is comfortable, as inns go, but would you not rather stay in my house?”
Peter smiled. ‘Brother, when I am next hereabouts I shall accept your offer with thanks. But on Sunday, you are to be married, and on Sunday
night you and your bride will have no need – and no wish, I make no doubt – for strangers in your house. You will wish to be alone. And I shall respect that wish by remaining here.’
The same thought had occurred to Blakiston, and he made no objection.
‘You have to find a farmer for that place we just visited. I am a seafaring man and I understand nothing of how these things are done. What will you do?’
‘In fact, a plan is forming. I intend to ask Tom Laws at Chopwell Garth farm to take charge of Hope House as well. But he will need help. And there is a man who has experience of labouring at Hope House and who, I believe, is ready for more responsibility. His alternative is to work underground in the coal mines, a fate dreaded by farmworkers but one that too many of them have had to accept. He has no wife, which is normally a requirement in a farmer as far as I am concerned, but he has a mother. And he has a younger brother. I shall see Tom Laws later today, and I shall ask him to speak to Emmett Batey and see whether they can work together.’
Peter nodded. ‘You know, the normal way to a commission in the Navy is to buy it. As our kinsman bought mine for me. But, in the heat of battle, officers as well as men are killed and it is not unusual to promote an ordinary seaman. Some of them have the brains and the common sense to perform as well as an educated man, even though they have been recruited from the lowest ranks of society. So even do better.’
