"Not at all, brother! I have hoped for years that you might spread your wings, you know! You are far too good a man to be caught in the toils of the devout!"
Thomas told Elizabeth of their plans at the dinner table, Luke confirming that his existence was to take a new and welcome turn.
"What of Miss Porter, Luke? Will she approve?"
Luke did not know, not as a certainty, but hoped that whilst she was a good Christian of proper principles she might well welcome a less poverty-stricken life than she had been prepared to embrace. He intended to pay her an early visit to discover whether that was so.
"I should write her mother a letter, I believe, begging permission to be received in her house. She may feel that I am apostate, cast out from the congregation of the faithful, having renounced my calling."
Luke was quite comfortable, however - he was a Star, and that must outweigh any other consideration.
It was possible that mother and daughter might have radically different feelings on that topic, Elizabeth thought. She bade him do nothing for a few days - she would make her normal call on Brother Bob and his wife and sound out Miss Martinsyde while she was there, so much less formal and final than a letter.
"Miss Martinsyde had much to say on brother Luke's defection from the ranks of the God-fearing - it is the scandal of the town, one gathers. As closely as I could discover, and accepting that she would have exercised tact in speaking to me, there is a belief amongst the respectable that the machinations of the Trades Unionists - who are known to have demanded an audience with him immediately before his flight from the Chapel - drove him to despair. On the poorer side of the congregation there is a feeling that he had to choose between his rich connections and service to the ordinary people. The effect is, in potential at least, to create a schism that will drive one sort or the other to find a different place of worship."
Thomas tried to appear interested - it would all blow over in a week or two, he supposed, all scandals did.
"Mrs Porter is much distressed, believing that her daughter will have nothing more to say to Luke and will probably remain single - still loving him but unable to condone his actions. I have not spoken to either of the Porters, but Miss Martinsyde thinks it all too likely, the girl being very conventional in her attitudes."
Thomas was now very interested - Luke needed stability in his new existence and that was obviously imperilled.
"He will not be able to address himself to business if he is beset by a failed love-affair. He has so much to learn, so many new habits to form, that he will have no time for heart-break. What a damnable nuisance! Expensive, too - the whole investment in the new enterprise will be at risk! We cannot take the risk that he will become erratic, uncertain in his behaviour and habits. Mr Joseph Andrews is only now coming to terms with his bereavements, for example, has been nearly six months bringing himself back to a working frame of mind - young Lord Rothwell seems to have been just the companion he needed, by the way. We will not have half a year for Luke to bring himself about."
"What do you propose, husband?"
Elizabeth was inclined to disapprove of her lord's cavalier dismissal of the emotional aspects of tragedy and of his concentration on the purely mundane consideration of profit - he had not been used to think like this.
"The Family is too much dependant on cotton, Elizabeth - we must branch out into other fields of enterprise. I had hoped Luke could be our means to do so, for I had much rather trust a brother than any paid manager, but if he is a broken reed, then an employee it must be. Can you discover the reality of the situation before I take any further action?"
"Carriage in the morning, I think, sir."
"I spoke to Mrs Porter only, Thomas. Her daughter did not choose to enter the withdrawing room whilst I was present."
Elizabeth was irritated - not only was the girl ill-mannered to fail to greet a guest, she was also indulging in an excess of emotion. It was incumbent upon the courteous to disguise their feelings in public - it was not done to make a display of grief, or indeed of joy.
"Not as well trained as one might like in one's brother's wife-to-be, sir. I do not therefore consider it appropriate for me to act as a go-between with the aim of healing the breach between them. I am inclined, in fact, to suggest that he should regard himself as well out of an unfortunate entanglement with a slightly underbred female. Distance might well provide a solution. I am given to understand, Thomas, that there is a possibility of encouraging the breeding of a sort of sheep called the merino, one with the highest quality of fleece, at the Cape?"
There was, Thomas knew, but he could not quite see its relevance to their current discussion.
"Was a member of the Family to make the voyage to the Cape, a matter of a few months, one understands, then he might find it possible to make a study of the matter. If there is a prospect of a sufficient quantity of wool being produced then he might consider whether to purchase our own sheepwalks there, or perhaps engage in merchanting the fleeces. I believe that a year might be spent most profitably in such an enterprise."
Light began to dawn - Luke's first love must surely come to its natural conclusion at such a distance in time and place.
"And, if it was found to be practical to bring the wool to England, then we might also examine the possibility of extending the activity to the Antipodes. I suspect that the gentleman in question might find himself away from England for as much as five years, by which time one might expect his ardour to have cooled and another match to be a possibility."
Thomas could see that it was clearly in Luke's best interests to make a suitable intervention; the remaining question was of how best to wrap the matter up - he should not be told he was being removed from the scene, must believe that he was subjugating his personal desires for the benefit of his kin. He was, it seemed, enamoured of the concept of sacrifice, of self-abnegation, so it was as well to pander to the lad's little quirk.
"I am recently even more worried, Luke, for the future of cotton. The word is that the abomination of slavery is expected to be short-lived in America - there is talk of abolition in the early future."
Luke was not informed about political matters, was only too pleased to hear that the Evil Institution was to come to its long overdue end.
"Two years from now and there is a strong chance that there will be no cotton harvested in the South, Luke!"
That could clearly be a problem for the British mills.
"Reason suggests that we must examine other possibilities, not least an involvement in the woollen industry. We would need to discover sources of wool overseas - England alone cannot produce enough fleeces. Will you be willing to undertake an examination of the possibilities in the Cape and then around Botany Bay, brother? A manager under my eye could take over your present activities, but could not be trusted to make the independent judgements we would need at a distance."
The Family first, that must always be the rule.
"I am given to believe that Miss Porter has nothing to say to me, Thomas, and so I think it might be better for me to go away for a while. That apart, I must always go where I am needed."
"That was exactly what I expected to hear from you, Luke. Loyalty first, and last, sir! I would wish you to take ship from Bristol as soon as possible. I believe that Mostyns intends to open a branch of its bank in the Cape, but I shall place a significant sum in gold and paper in your hands, enough, for example, to place a deposit for a purchase of land or to establish a wool factor. What I have in mind is..."
Luke was happy to remove himself from the more practical, dirty-handed aspects of the business existence - planning and building a manufactury, even for a product as simple as cocoa powder, seemed quite remarkably complex, demanded all day of every day, and he was not quite in the habit of such labours. He was, in any case, a gentleman, he reminded himself, one of those who instructed others to perform the necessary tasks of life rather than performing them with his own hands.
"'A place for ev
ery man, and every man in his place', Thomas. I believe my place is more in the way of making policy than carrying it out."
"You may well be right, Luke. We must all, however, earn our daily bread, or at least, in our case, the butter to spread upon it. Whilst you are in the Cape you should give some consideration to the state of the colony, if you would be so good. Is there coal, for example, or will it be necessary eventually to supply its steamers from British pits? Is it self-sufficient in all of its needs? If not, what might be sent profitably from England?"
Luke thought he might be able to undertake such an exercise, though he would not guarantee that he would be entirely successful. He would give it his best endeavours - they could rely upon him!
He took his leave for Bristol unaware that his brother was inclined to have doubts about his ability to achieve anything useful for the firm, or the family, quite probably for himself.
"We might have been wiser to have persuaded him towards the missionary life, Elizabeth! I have come to believe my brother to be better skilled at talking than doing - perhaps his first choice of an occupation was wiser than I had suspected."
It did not matter in the end - he was Family.
"Do you know, Mr Oliver, I am inclined to wonder, to question just how Mr Quillerson has been able so frequently to pick up 'bargains' in New York. Four times in the space of a year he has come up with consignments of woollens or heavy cottons, of sugar and rice - and of tobacco and ardent spirits, I regret to say - and has placed them upon the shelves of his store at a price that can only be called uncommon low!"
Oliver shook his head - he did not know either, but, being a little more experienced in the ways of the world than the village blacksmith, White, he could make an informed guess. He was more concerned to establish why Mr Quillerson was favouring them.
Oliver had now set up his small stud, breeding working horses, and had sold his first youngsters in the villages just a few miles to the south and east of Andrewstown; he had dropped into their stores, also owned by Mr Quillerson, as they were the natural meeting points of the small settler communities. He had noticed the same goods on sale, but at ordinary prices. He was quite certain that he was the only local man to have travelled between the villages - the very few who had gone anywhere had taken the track down to the river and to Albany or New York itself.
One of Bass' sons had gone to the big city for a few days earlier in the year to lay his hands on beans and pea seeds, having it in mind to plant as many acres as he could for drying and selling in the winter. The beans were always wanted for fodder for the increasing number of horses, and thick split-pea and ham soup, yellow and rich, was always welcome in the cold days, and gave a taste of home. Other than that, Oliver did not think any man had gone as much as five miles from his front door in the whole year.
"What do you say to the buckwheat, Mr White?"
Oliver preferred not to examine the question of cheap goods any further.
"A valuable addition to the fields, Mr Oliver! Healthy food for growing appetites and makes a filling morning meal. Not, perhaps, a lot to say in the way of taste, but that can be overcome with a smidgen of bacon after all! Do you find the horses to eat it with any relish?"
They did, it seemed, and Oliver proposed to put the new crop to at least one half of his fields.
"I shall grow no more of wheat, Mr White. Oats on at least thirty of my acres, the rest of the fields to go for pasture land now that I have made a start on the rail fences for the paddocks. What of your land, sir?"
White had filed on his homestead in the previous year, in addition to his smithy, and had been able, just, to plough a quarter and put it to wheat.
"I must find a labourer, I fear, Mr Oliver, but know not how I can do so. I cannot run forge and farm both."
Any man who could make his way into the new lands was at liberty to file for himself and would not work as a hired hand as a general rule, except perhaps to put a stake together over a couple of years.
"One might seek out a hand who could not be eligible to homestead himself."
White was slow to catch the implication of Mr Oliver's words, began to answer that any free man could file...
Both men knew that was true, but that it would be a very bold black man who attempted to exercise that liberty. There were several thousands of men of colour in New York, clustering in the city for fear of the isolation of the backwoods villages where lawmen were not to be found. The Police Department in New York was heavy handed but tended to discourage lynching parties - they often led to extraneous street violence, it was held - and a runaway from the South could find work, at a low wage, and a slum to live in; out in the sticks a fugitive slave might enjoy a very brief existence, particularly if he was so arrogant as to attempt to place himself on a footing of equality.
"A cabin and a wage, Mr White, and five or ten acres of garden land besides, and one could find a well-behaved, industrious free man, possibly with a wife; I am told that they do marry on occasion and one could not tolerate anything else in our midst. Kept away from the bottle - which would easily be done as Mr Urquhart at the store would not sell him hard liquor - such a one could be of great use to you."
White gave the matter some thought, was inclined to agree. Any children could be put to employment themselves, as housemaids or in the forge or on other farms. It would be to provide a refuge from the wicked plantations as well, thus to the benefit of all, such good works being thoroughly desirable for one's soul.
"Not too high a wage, perhaps, one must not lead the primitive into decadence, Mr Oliver."
They agreed that the matter should be put before the village council before any action was taken - there might be objections made to so bold a course.
John Quillerson appeared in the village, leading a wagon carrying barrels of sugar and an amount of brass and pewter ware and pieces of glass and pottery, all of which he thought might be welcome in their kitchens. The prices were very reasonable.
"I have done very well in my general business, Mr White, and, as I made my start here, I feel inclined to share a little of my prosperity, sir. When the canal is completed, in perhaps two more years, then I suspect I shall be in the way of doing far better yet, and be sure that I shall not forget the Finedon folk when it comes to be."
Quillerson listened courteously as they explained their shortage of hands and outlined their scheme to resolve the problem.
"Three of them, you say, Mr White, to work the additional fields you so wisely brought in? That could be done, I have no doubt. You and the Miller, needing the labour, your other activities preventing you from working the land to its best - I can understand the problem. I could find Irishmen the more easily, but they would, of course, eventually wish to take their own acres, and you would never keep them away from the booze!"
Quillerson checked with Mr Oliver that the proposal was widely acceptable, then agreed to find the necessary hands, ideally already with families, and escort them to the village.
"Better not, perhaps, to despatch them on their own, without a man to vouch for them!"
"You have plans for us when the canal comes, Mr Quillerson?"
"There will be ten men for every one now within a year of the canal opening for trade - inevitable, it will always happen as travelling becomes easier, makes fewer demands on the perseverance of the settler. Every village will grow, with tradesmen moving in; every piece of land that will take the plough will be snapped up; every hillside with minerals will be mined. The grist mill and the saw mill will both grow, and there should, I would suggest, be a brewery and a cider press set up, with a distillery on a good, clean side stream. There are many arguments against alcohol, of that I am well aware, but taken in moderation it does little harm, I believe. In any case, there are many of Romanists to be found in the State, and they do not think of such matters in quite the way that we do."
Both White and Oliver agreed, Catholics - bog Irish, and even one or two of the lesser Continental types from Franc
e and the Italian states - were to be found in significant numbers, especially in urban slums. The better, Germanic settlers tended to be Protestants and to make good neighbours, and they were to be found more in the countryside than in the towns, which was hardly surprising - the virtuous life lent itself to agrarian pursuits, they believed.
"It would be as well, gentlemen, was Mr Oliver to breed as many dray horses as is practical, and for you, Mr White, to set up as a carter and carrier, expanding the forge to become a livery stables as well. The track to the canal will become within reason busy, I would hope."
"We should build a chapel, Mr Quillerson, larger and better than the shack we make do with now. No large settlement should be without a House of God."
Neither Oliver nor Quillerson displayed the enthusiasm White looked for; he was a little surprised, and much disappointed in them.
"Do you intend to follow the spread of settlers onto the plains about the Great Lakes, Mr Quillerson?"
"Soon after, certainly, Mr Oliver. The canal will mean the colonisation of the shores of the Lakes first, inevitably. A number of small ports will spring up and homesteaders will fan out from them. The word I have is that the prospect is being much advertised in the Germanies but less so in England, the English looking more towards the Antipodes and Africa, to remain part of the King's polity rather than becoming citizens of a new country."
That made sense to all three, though they wondered whether they would not be frozen out by the new people speaking a different language.
"I shall delay a while before taking stores to the new settlements - a few frontiersmen have spoken of a great resentment amongst the tribesmen, of a determination to be pushed no further. Some of the men tell me that the bulk of the Plains Indians originally lived as prosperous agriculturalists in this eastern land, driven out by the whites from across the sea, driven in stages westward until they were forced onto the Plains to live as poor hunters in tents. They say that the displaced Eastern Indians have been forced to become fierce fighting men to carve out a living space from the tribes already present, and many are bent on dying before they will run again."
The Wages Of Virtue (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 8) Page 16
