The Wages Of Virtue (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 8)

by Andrew Wareham

  "But what if I am wrong, sir?"

  "Then we shall be disappointed in our hopes, George. The only advice I can give you - and this is second-hand, from the first Lord Andrews - is that Mr Stephenson is a self-made man, and will very probably be happy to talk of his success - so ask him questions and make a show of listening to all he says because much will be worthwhile."

  Rothwell paid another visit to Thingdon Hall before he left for the north, found the stableyard in chaos.

  Two large, covered, four-wheeled wagons were drawn up near the kennels. Their four-horse teams had been unhitched and led well clear and attempts were being made to load seventeen mastiffs of varying size and age into their backs. They were high off the ground, their beds the better part of four feet up, and the big dogs were unable to jump so high and were too great to be lifted.

  In the nature of things, the dogs could not mount ladders and were rapidly becoming upset at the interference they were experiencing. One bitch whose six-week litter had been put inside was increasingly insistent that they should be returned to her care; twelve stones of irate dog was occasioning a degree of upset amongst the men.

  George stood to the side and watched as a set of steps were cobbled together from sacks of grain with planks laid across them; they were firm enough, but they were new and the dogs, conservative beings, would have none of them. The kennel-men walked up and down them and the bitch in milk finally nerved herself to leap up to join her five offspring; all of the other eleven instantly followed her, crowding into the one wagon, belling and yelling at the tops of their lungs. The four to remain behind joined in the clamour, upset at being locked away from the pack.

  Robert appeared, surveyed the shambles and very quietly retired - let better men find a solution, he implied. George joined him.

  "They are to go to the new estate of Sir Matthew and Lady Star up on the Lancashire moors, the edge of the Pennine Mountains, in fact, where they will have the use of hundreds of acres of otherwise unfruitful land. It will be very good for them."

  "And will do no great harm to you, I venture, my lord."

  "None at all, sir!"

  "Are their kennel-men to go with them, sir?"

  "Naturally, what else would they do? The married man has a cottage reserved near Sir Matthew's new house; the boy is a nephew and accompanies him while the lad is to stay with the four who remain - no doubt they will rapidly become a dozen!"

  It seemed a cavalier disposition of the men's lives, but it was likely that they were well-paid, and they would still be with the Family.

  "I came to make my farewells, my lord, and to ask whether you have any messages to send with me tomorrow."

  "My affection to Mr Joseph, of course. I would be obliged to you if you could find a day to visit at the Institution for Steam Engineers near Liverpool. I cannot make time to go north myself, as I really should, and a visitation is overdue. It would take a full week, was I to go, which is a long time to devote to one day of business."

  "It is a Home for orphan boys, is it not, my lord?"

  "Selected to a great extent by their ability to learn a modern skill of some complexity - they are to be trained and educated to be the engine-men of steamships, a job which will be well-paid and respectable. My father was in favour of such endeavours, believing that even those of lowest birth could be brought to a useful purpose. The alternative, he frequently said, was to allow them to remain in the gutter, take to crime and then swing on the gallows or be sent to the Antipodes. He may have been correct in his argument, but I sometimes fear that education of the children of the criminal classes will do no more than grant them the capacity to grow up to become more effective felons - there are those who would argue that blood and breeding will always out, you know, my lord!"

  Rothwell wondered whether he should enquire which portion of Lord Andrews' blood and breeding did he expect to predominate; he decided it might be more tactful not to make any argument.

  "It will be of interest, my lord, to observe these young men in their careers. Perhaps we should try to take a record of their doings over the next score or so of years."

  Robert could not imagine why he might wish to, but it was only polite to agree.

  "Do you carry pistols, by the way, my lord? The roads have been a little unsettled again of late, the odd occasion of highway robbery recorded. It seems to come and go - a gang forming and then being dispersed after a few outrages - probably not a great risk at all. Certainly there seems to be less of such crime than was the case immediately after the Peace when the mass of soldiers returned to find there was no work to be had."

  "I have never used a hand-gun, my lord, and very much doubt that I could bring myself to attempt another man's life."

  "Each to his own, sir."

  There was very little point to offering the use of a pair of pistols and then giving an hour's tuition on the little range his father had built. Except the young man was a natural it would require long practice to make him reasonably competent and a menace more to others than himself.

  "I would be obliged, Rothwell, if you would form an opinion on my brother's state of mind, while you were in his company. You are far closer to his age than I - there are times when I look in my mirror for grey hairs, you know - and you might be able to talk more with him. Your man can speak to his, as well - you have a man, do you not?"

  "My father has insisted that I must - produced him from his hat, as it were. A relative of Mr Hunt passed away very recently and left his fellow without a place, very conveniently it would seem. The gentleman was of no great age when he departed this mortal coil - he took his rod sea-fishing, it would seem, in his own little boat which he kept for the purpose at Wells-next-the-Sea; the boat floated into shore, upside down, after a sudden storm, but he has not been seen since."

  "Thus, my lord, instead of catching fishes to eat, the fishes nibbled on him it would seem.

  'Do unto others as thou wouldst be done by', indeed!"

  Heartless and just a little disrespectful, Rothwell felt, but unfortunately amusing; it was very sad, but humour seemed always to be in bad taste.

  "So, Worth has come to me, my lord. He wishes that I might visit a tailor in London, but I have small inclination to do so."

  Robert shook his head, it would not do.

  "You must, I regret to say. I avoided a valet as long as I could, but have now discovered that the popular lore about them is perfectly correct - they are harsh masters and must be obeyed. Was I you, Rothwell, I would inform your man that you must meet your commitment to me first, but that you will go to Town immediately you have spoken to me on your return from Lancashire. Put up at Mount Street for a few days if you do not want to stay with your grandparents or at the family's town place - none will query your comings and goings from my house in my absence, whilst your elders, and inevitably betters, will undoubtedly quiz you most closely - they will see you still as the small boy you lately were. The Dowager Marchioness still enquires whether I have washed behind my ears!"

  It was pleasant to be treated as an adult, to realise that Lord Andrews regarded him as close to an equal.

  "Should I take rooms in Town, do you think, my lord?"

  "Only if you wish to. Do not feel obliged to state your independence, and do not think that you must stay at home if you do not want to. If you wish to go to the races, do so; if, perhaps, you fancy a visit to a watering place, to Brighton say, then feel free. Your father will be happy to see you spread your wings, I am sure. Do you intend to show yourself in the Season next year?"

  "Should I? Must I?"

  "Yes and yes. You should be known to the mamas of Town. Inevitably, you must wed, unless your brother is to become heir to the estate, and so you would be wise to throw your hat in the ring at an early stage so as to establish yourself as a person and not just as Grafham's heir."

  "A point I had not considered, my lord, and one that I must. Young Fred is not the stuff of which a Marquis is made, my lord. I suspect he will b
ecome a soldier."

  The sneer of the thinker, the man of his brains rather than his hands, was overt.

  Robert had hardly met the younger brother, knew only that he was less intellectual than the elder; he had heard they had little liking for each other, and less understanding.

  "He is what, eighteen years of age now? If he is to become a cornet or ensign then it should be very soon."

  "An ensign, definitely, my lord - a cavalry regiment would be a source of problems."

  The main problem would be that of a Jewish mother. If he was to join then it would have to be in a very unfashionable battalion of the Line, one whose officers would look no further than his titled father. Yet, even out of the direct eye of Society, difficulties could arise - he might be unwelcome in the drawing-rooms of whatever barracks town the battalion was posted to.

  "You are sure that it is a good idea for him to join, Rothwell?"

  "Not from all I have heard, no, my lord."

  "Perhaps he could take up land overseas, in the Cape or in Botany Bay?"

  "There have been very large purchases of land made in the Presidency of Texas, I am told. It is not impossible that Goldsmids might buy some tens of thousands of acres there, and wish for a family member to go out to take charge."

  "I will speak to your father, I think."

  "Please do, my lord. I would like to see young Fred making a success of his life, especially in a far-away location."

  Rothwell left for the north and Robert made an early call on his father, having discovered that the Marquis was in far closer converse with the Hunts than he had realised - he had not discovered Rothwell's man by reading in the local newssheet. He did not expect to find the Grafhams to be shifting allegiances, but he liked to know just what was happening locally and who held the ear of the Lord Lieutenant and what political winds might be stirring.

  "We go to the Stephensons in three days, Rothwell," Joseph said. "For the while you will wish to see a mill or two and look in at the foundries. I have my locomotive engine on its rails now and puffing from shed to shed in the Works. I have already discovered some improvements to be made - the next one will be far more efficient a machine!"

  Rothwell was not deeply perceptive, had little experience of assessing the motives and condition of his fellow-man, but it struck him that Joseph was too bright and cheerful - the effect was artificial, a performance rather than a true statement.

  They ate a not especially well-cooked dinner - Joseph obviously had neither knowledge of nor interest in his food - and sat back with the decanters on the table, trying to find topics of mutual relevance. Joseph was an engineer by avocation; Rothwell had recently come across the works of David Ricardo, the lately deceased political economist - neither could find much in the other's topics.

  "You cannot be involved in business, of course, Rothwell - the disadvantage of being the heir - so what do you intend to do next?"

  "Learn more of the estate - my own acres as well as those of the Family. My father was a sailor and then became a Public Man, much more in Town than at home - indeed, his home was London. The agent and bailiffs have done their best, but it is not the same as having a member of the family present and active. I should imagine that you would find the same in your firms was you to leave them in the hands, year on year, of even a very good manager."

  Joseph was genuinely interested, for the first time, became slower in his speech, more thoughtful.

  "I believe you are quite right, Rothwell. You will know that I was left a cotton mill in the Will - quite a small place, one hundred or so of mules. I doubt my father visited twice a year - he was not a cotton man, came into the mills only on the settlement of a debt. The manager was a very pleasant, alert, hard-working man - yet the place was not clearing a hundred a month, cash in pocket!"

  "One pound from each, 'mule' was it?"

  "A few pennies less, in fact. It took me one week to double that - just by cutting down on waste and watching the hours the hands actually worked. When slovenly habits were eradicated - men actually had mugs of tea with them when they were working! And when men worked up to the whistle and did not shut down twenty minutes before to clean up their floor space, then output rose quite markedly while costs actually fell. And all because the manager was unwilling to be called a 'slavedriver', so he said."

  "'Was', you say Joseph."

  "Certainly so, sir! I have no use for a man who will not demand everything to which he is contractually entitled."

  "The law is all when one is on the mill-floor, then?"

  "It is better that it should be - where there is a contract fully enforced then all know exactly what they can and cannot do. No grey areas under the law, sir, and thus fewer chances of dispute."

  "Can there not be a process of give and take?"

  "Not if you wish to protect the ordinary man, Rothwell - for the powerful will give less and take more - and, while riches and power are one and the same, then the masters will win every time."

  They visited the Roberts Works next day - fire, smoke and soot the predominant theme.

  "The least of the men here takes home twice as much as he could on a farm, and the skilled hands double that again. The work is hard and dirty - but harvesting and dung-spreading are not for the idle or the fastidious, I believe, and as for mucking out stables or sties or byres..."

  It was a point, Rothwell had to admit.

  They had other entertainment after dinner, Joseph taking out the carriage and driving them to the big old house towards the centre of the town.

  "I was always used to drive myself when I went out of an evening - before I was wed, that is. I did not indulge myself in this fashion while she was with me, and have not in the short while since she died, for that matter."

  Rothwell began to suspect just what the indulgence was to be: as a good moralist and a well brought-up young man he thought he should get out of the carriage, refuse to be corrupted; as a young man of perfectly normal, and as yet unslaked, appetite, he stayed where he was.

  A groom took the carriage into a mews at the back of the house, slipped the silver shilling into his pocket and promised to rub the old horse down and keep her out of the cold.

  A side-door opened to them and a very large porter ushered them inside, a footman leading them up two pairs of stairs and into a thickly carpeted, over-furnished maroon withdrawing room; everything was plush velvet - chairs, rugs, the carpet itself, the heavy curtains.

  "Rich and vulgar, Joseph."

  "Sets the tone for the evening, George."

  Four rather handsome and scantily dressed young ladies appeared, smiled and took them off to separate rooms, two apiece, Rothwell somewhat surprised but quite willing to cooperate.

  Joseph returned an hour later, his immediate needs met and unable to relax further. The madam joined him almost immediately.

  "The other young gentleman looks set to make a night of it, Mr Andrews. Not in the habit..."

  "I suspect a new experience for him, ma'am."

  She laughed, said she would not expect him to come up for air before midday.

  "I can send him back in my gig, if you do not wish to wait, Mr Andrews. If you would like to stay, of course, you are very welcome - I have another way of helping my clients to relax."

  Taken aback, Joseph hurriedly assured her he had no taste for men.

  "No, sir, and you would not find them here if you had! I thought you might like to try one of our pipes, the latest thing from Persia! A way of entering deep, comfortable, refreshing sleep - 'roborative', my medical man calls it."

  The prospect of deep sleep, and more than two hours of it, was sufficient to tempt Joseph; he leant back in a well-cushioned armchair and watched fascinated as she produced a porcelain tray and set out a tiny spirit lamp and screwed a long bamboo stem into a small china-ware pipe-bowl, placing the whole into a little bracket over the flame and then scraping a measured amount of opium off of a small ball of latex and setting it to vaporise.

 
; "Just breathe in gently, Mr Andrews - don't take great big gulps at it..."

  He woke late in the morning, rested and easy in himself and with a vague memory of dreams rather than nightmares. It was the first time in many months that he had felt refreshed of a morning, did not have to force himself to rise.

  "Thank you, ma'am! Do you know if I might be able to buy a pipe for myself, ma'am? And where might I procure Persian opium?"

  She directed him to her own supplier, a store called Mr Starling's Apothecaries Requisites, next door to the Import and Export Agency down at the Liverpool Docks.

  "The young men there are very helpful, Mr Andrews!"

  She escorted Joseph to the door, assured him she would send my lord home as soon as he found the energy to stir, and smiled at the ten sovereigns in her hand. She wrote a quick note to Mr Starling in person, giving the name of Mr Joseph Andrews and reminding him of their little commission arrangement.

  Joseph had been in his office for three hours when Rothwell finally reappeared, somewhat shame-faced, waiting for mockery which did not eventuate. There was no comment at all, in fact.

  "I have been seeking a solution to the problem of a supply of fresh water for the boilers on a sea-going ship for five weeks, Rothwell, and have just this morning realised what the answer must be! If I take sea-water for the cooler, the condenser, wholly separate from the boiler water, then I waste much less fresh water, and I gain in efficiency because the steam is cooled more rapidly by the cold water running round the outside. A small pump to expel the hot brine, taking very little power to run, is the sole cost. A collier running the whole of the East Coast - the German Ocean and the British Channel both - would require only two tons or so of fresh water in its tanks - a great saving!"

  Rothwell seemed unimpressed and Joseph was inclined to be irritated - there would be a Joseph Andrews Condenser on every maritime engine produced inside the year!