Virtue’s Reward (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 11)

by Andrew Wareham

The capital letters were loud in her voice.

  "That is a matter of some disgrace, ma'am, leading so often to the most awful of diseases."

  "Does it? I had not known that!"

  Despite his years of marriage he had not realised she was that sheltered.

  "Be that as it may, Mr Quarrington, he spent unwisely and foolishly as well, for he did not realise that not only were his lands almost wholly under entail, but his Capital - you will know far better than I the terms, some things called Consols? Whatever, they were in a Trust Fund, and thus untouchable."

  She was appalled, even to repeat the information brought humiliation.

  "Thus, ma'am, he had debts he could not meet, you tell me."

  "Just so, sir! His father had only a few years before his death gone into some sort of partnership with my Papa, and between them they had purchased hillsides in Somerset that were believed to shelter coal measures. These lands, being in joint ownership, were not placed in the entail, and my Papa has consented to their being sold and the receipts being used wholly to clear Cousin Jabez' debts; the matter of some ten thousands of Papa's money is to be repaid from his rents at six hundred pounds a year for twenty years."

  That explained why the land had been offered to the Quarringtons, and at such a price; it remained still within the family, in its extended sense, and the sale could proceed very quietly. With any luck no outsider would ever hear of the affair and the respectability of the Minchinhampton clan would remain untarnished.

  "One presumes that Cousin Jabez' London career has come to an end."

  "He is to remain at home, sir. I believe that a wife is to be discovered for him and he is to live in quiet domesticity, an enviable state of affairs. He will no doubt come to enjoy his more reasonable and ordered existence."

  'Order' was a word with several connotations - it seemed not unlikely that Cousin Jabez was to discover some of the less pleasant.

  "I shall do my bit for the family, ma'am. I shall meet your father this very afternoon and make the financial arrangements with him. The matter must proceed with the most absolute discretion and we shall no doubt see our attorneys together to impress upon them our desire for more than ordinary confidentiality."

  She expressed her thanks - loyalty to the family must be all and she was so glad that her previously unconventional husband was to fall into line.

  "While I think of it, ma'am - do you know anything of these Camp Fire Revivalists one hears of?"

  She knew nothing at all of that sort - very low, vulgar wretches, strangers both to bishops and to elders of the church and preaching without restraint or approval. They addressed themselves to the masses exclusively, often waving bibles in the air and shouting, sometimes for hours at a time. They were enthusiasts!

  "Do they perhaps do some good in bringing the poor to a sense of their duties?"

  "All things are possible, sir."

  He gave up - politesse was more important than any depth of belief, it appeared. Thinking on the matter, she was probably right - a prime function of religion was to create a subordinated and courteous society in which every man was aware of his duty and performed it unquestioningly. These matters of dogma were best discussed by theologians in sheltered colleges - there was no call to excite the masses.

  He left the house to attend a rare meeting with the patriarch of the Minchinhamptons, father to his wife and leader to a dozen families throughout the West Country.

  The gentleman was short and spare of frame, balding and wearing spectacles and dressed in a long coat and breeches in the most ancient of tastes. He was ferociously intelligent but kept a pure mind that had never in its whole existence been violated by an original thought.

  "You have considered my proposal, Mr Quarrington?"

  "I have, sir, and am happy to conform to your wishes."

  That seemed quite obvious to the older man - his wishes were so sensible that any man must be pleased to cooperate with them.

  "And the matter of a price, sir?"

  "I am given to understand that Mr Jabez Minchinhampton is in need of a particular sum, sir."

  "He is indeed! And if that enormous figure cannot be reached by sale of his unentailed assets, then the family must come to his rescue with loans! Disgraceful, sir!"

  Quarrington shook his head and raised his eyes to the heavens, amazed at such depravity.

  "I am able to realise the figure you quoted, sir - though with a little inconvenience in the short term. I have had it in mind to bring about some changes in my commercial interests and must now bring the process forward - but it will involve me in no long-term loss, I believe. The Sugar Islands are no longer a source of riches and I am to withdraw wholly from trade with the Caribbean Sea and will devote some of the assets thus realised to this matter."

  Mr Minchinhampton was interested to hear of that - he possessed some assets in Antigua and Jamaica: did Mr Quarrington think that he would be well-advised to sell?

  "With immediate effect, sir. Every report made confidentially to the various merchant houses tells a story of gloom and despair. The end of slavery - though in itself desirable - predicates the demise of the plantations."

  "A pity, yet bond servitude must go - it is intolerable in this age. No good Englishman can countenance the institution. What of the slave states of America, sir?"

  "Cotton, Mr Minchinhampton. British prosperity rests on its back and the crop demands slave labour, or so it would seem. No doubt slavery is a sin, indeed a Crime against Nature, yet it is the source of profits to many and of wages, directly and obscurely, to perhaps one half of a million workers. It is the single most important industry in the world, sir, and cannot, we are assured, exist except on the back of the indentured African."

  The older man shook his head and sighed gustily - it was a great pity he said, and then proceeded to forget all about it.

  "The matter of coal, Mr Quarrington, exercises my imagination. What exactly is to be done with it?"

  That was a very good question, and one that was not easily to be answered. Quarrington made a conscious effort to forget that he was dwelling in the Nineteenth Century, attempted to attune his ways of thought to those of an antediluvian patriarch.

  "In the first instance, sir, some few tons will be used for household firing in the immediate area of the pits and a little will be sold to, for example, local breweries with boilers to fire. Much more will be made into coke and transported to the docks at Bristol for the use of steamships, of which the number is growing every year. An amount will be transported to the town gasworks as well - gas for street lighting is increasingly a commonplace and it is now being piped into homes for light and heat and even cooking purposes. There are as well numbers of forges in the Forest of Dean and other places who will purchase coke. The greatest single user will, in time, be the new railways - another decade and they will be purchasing by the hundreds of thousands of tons, sir. Also, importantly, they will transport house coal to every large town in Britain, and soon thereafter to the small as well, I do not doubt."

  This had to be explained in detail. The concept of permitting 'gas' to enter one's home had to be considered in depth, and examined for impiety - it smacked of innovation.

  "Light, now, Mr Quarrington - for what purpose would it be used?"

  How to answer without seeming witty, and therefore offensive?

  "Possibly to allow the long evenings of winter to be put to desirable use, sir. The young especially will be encouraged to read and so improve their minds, without the vast expense of wax candles or oil lamps."

  Provided care was taken in the selection of the books that came in the way of young minds, that seemed good to Minchinhampton.

  About cooking using gas, he knew nothing and cared less - his function was to eat the meals provided him and not to prepare them. As for heating - firewood was increasingly hard to come by and coal was used more and more, so gas was only another step away from Nature; to be deplored, perhaps, but impossible to refuse.

>   "These 'railways', now - they are to spread, you say? Can that not be avoided?"

  "They will be a source of wealth to an extent previously unknown, sir, and very desirable. Their inventors are Godly men, I am told, and are bringing great benefit to us all. I am soon to meet with a Mr Brunel who has great plans for our future in the West Country, and I may well place funds in his hands, sir."

  "To what return, Mr Quarrington?"

  "There is talk of ten per centum, sir, and one has heard of greater values.”

  The old man's objections rapidly subsided.

  “Politics, Mr Quarrington, has been exercising my mind recently.”

  “We are in a time of change, sir, and must all give consideration to the actions of those at Westminster. You will be aware, undoubtedly, that my four members have chosen to retire from the field and have been replaced by men of a Whiggish persuasion. In part because of that, I have been put in the way of a number of highly profitable speculations on the Exchanges and in overseas trade. Indeed, it is not to go too far to suggest that I am able to assist in the matter of Mr Jabez Minchinhampton primarily because of the freedom those funds give me. I believe, sir, that you have some nine members on your lands.”

  “Should these Reform measures come to pass then I shall lose five of them, sir.”

  “And I two, I believe – yet we may well be, shall we say compensated for their loss. It would be very likely that we might receive a vote in the House of Lords and probably membership of a Board, or two, with commensurate fees for attendance of a young man of our family.”

  Votes in the House of Lords could only be exercised by Peers, as a general rule; there were a few bishops and judges as well. To be given a vote meant a barony, normally a very expensive purchase.

  “I believe, sir, that your younger brother is a general.”

  “He is indeed, and he is without appointment at the moment, but is still of an age to serve.”

  “A command at foreign might be seen as desirable?”

  Four or seven years in a posting overseas which included an amount of action against unruly tribesmen, possibly the annexation of a new colony, could be very profitable. A major-general who did well could be given a financial grant by parliament and would expect to become a baronet at least. If he fought a battle or two and lost a thousand or so redcoats – enough to show that it was serious – while still winning, then a peerage was almost a certainty.

  “Command at the Cape or in India, or possibly on the China Station, would be very welcome, Mr Quarrington.”

  “Excellent, sir! With your permission, I shall travel to London to speak with Mr James Andrews, who, as you know, is a junior minister of the crown and a member in good standing of the Whigs. The prospect of nine more votes in the Commons would be very cheering, or so I should imagine.”

  In effect it would be to deliver the whole of the West Country, because very few of the smaller landowners would choose to set up against the Minchinhampton interest; additionally, the family had married well for several generations and had relations in a number of important clans across the whole of England, all of whom would at least note what they were doing.

  Patrick Plunkett was rich; he admitted the fact to himself as he stared in dismay at the report sent to him from Dublin Castle.

  Poverty in the predominantly Catholic areas of Ireland was worse than had ever been known; whole counties were surviving on the very edge of famine with no resources available in case of the least setback.

  “A strong gale of wind; a late frost; a month of rain to cause mildew on the potatoes – any natural hazard will kill one half of the population or more!”

  His wife, heavily pregnant with their long-awaited second and concerned about little else, muttered soothing words.

  “No, my dear, they cannot buy wheat instead, for they have no money. And we cannot supply them with flour for they have no ovens either. Open fireplaces where they may boil their potatoes, and perhaps a stew once a month if they can come across a little of meat, and that is their all. They cannot bake or roast, for lack of the wherewithal. The numbers of folk are growing, and the amount of land remains the same – disaster awaits, without doubt.”

  “Are we safe, Patrick, my dear?”

  “We are rich, in land and in money in the bank. The whiskey distilling puts five thousands a year into our accounts in England. I do not bring those profits back here, preferring that they stay in a safer place, in banks that are insulated from Ireland’s potential for disaster. If the worst arrives then I shall put you and the children aboard ship and send you to England, to stay with the Grafhams or the St Helens in Northamptonshire. We shall not be affected, except that we may well profit from the misery of the poor – for as they starve and die off they will demand less of us, and the land they infest at the moment will become available to us for grain or cattle!”

  She thought it better not to applaud the possibility.

  “Now, to add to their misery, we have this damned fellow Baron Nash of Claudy, my sister’s son, taking his delight in persecuting the Papists even further. The authorities at the Castle find it wise to warn me that the peasants may be moved to attempt a revenge on me, as his nearest family member and less well protected than him.”

  “What is to be done, Patrick?”

  “I must hire men to act as guards for us, and more to stand sentry on the distilleries and granaries and malt-lofts. That provides another question, of course…”

  She was sure that it did, but had not the least idea just what that question might be.

  “Who to employ, ma’am?”

  She was still uncertain of the nature of the problem.

  “Should I take local young men and place muskets in their hands? Catholic youngsters inevitably to face their fellow religionists? Or should I leave the locals to resent Protestants being brought down from the North to earn the wages!”

  She had no answer, other than to suggest that he might take advice from the local priest, who had always seemed to be an influence for peace in the area.

  “Do you see my problem, sir?”

  Patrick would not address the Papist as ‘Father’ – that would be to offer him a degree of recognition that was inappropriate.

  “I understand your difficulty, Mr Plunkett. It is always possible that trouble-makers from other parts of the country might come here to work their mischief. They would, without doubt, try to corrupt the minds of local youth to follow them in their Godless path of resistance to legitimate authority. Was there to be a source of local resentment, then their task might be that much easier.”

  “You would advise me then to offer work as armed guards to local men, sir?”

  “With much reluctance, yes, I would, Mr Plunkett. Would they be uniformed as King’s Men, or are they to be employees of the estates, sir?”

  “I will listen to advice on that point also, sir.”

  “Dress them in dark green and call them ‘estate keepers’, Mr Plunkett. Not exactly gamekeepers, but in many ways the same and certainly not displaying a red coat. They can less easily be called ‘traitor’ in such case.”

  That made good sense, offering as it did far less offence to local sensibilities.

  “Will you assist me in discovering the most reliable of the young, or even older married men, sir? You might well be able to suggest candidates from large families where an extra income would be thankfully received – widow women and such with a grown son or two.”

  “Pay, Mr Plunkett?”

  “Better than that accruing to a farm labourer, sir. Say a cottage on the estate and five shillings a week in money, together with half a pint of milk a day for each in the household and bread and bacon and cheese as well. A large garden attached to the cottage for their potatoes and leeks and other greens. Space for a henhouse, possibly even a pig.”

  “I approve, Mr Plunkett. Prices are rising and food can often be in short supply – better to guarantee them their daily meals than pay in shillings that can
be insufficient, or wasted on drink in the shebeen!”

  It would be a substantial cost as he would need at least twenty of these keepers, but that was better than to have his house burned down about his ears or a gunpowder bomb thrown into the nursery, as had happened occasionally elsewhere.

  He employed the men, to local applause, and then wrote to Dublin to inform the authorities of his action and suggest that it might be encouraged throughout the country. He pointed out that the costs were to an extent offset by the reduction of demands on local charity.

  The Plunketts were blessed with a healthy son to complement their ten years old daughter, an heir in the direct line, to the pleasure of both parents.

  “I shall write the good news to all of the family, of course, my dear. Yours as well as mine, though I have no doubt you will despatch an epistle to your mother in your own hand. I was just a little surprised that she could not be with you at this time.”

  Mrs Plunkett had also been disappointed that her mama could not be at her side.

  “My father, sir, needed her present to act as his hostess while the guests from London were present.”

  She was a Wellesley and the family was much involved in both Irish and British political affairs.

  “I was invited to Dublin myself, my dear. I refused, as was only to be expected.”

  “It might be appropriate, Mr Plunkett, was you to take horse in the morning, to carry our good tidings in person to my parents.”

  “Better by carriage, my dear, with my man and evening dress besides.”

  “Quite, sir.”

  “My recently ennobled nephew might be present as well. He will no doubt send you his good wishes.”

  She sniffed her disdain for the young gentleman, taking pains not to ask why he was a baron when her so much more deserving husband remained a plain mister.

  “I had not heard, Mr Plunkett, but is Lady Nash expecting, do you know?”

  “I believe not, ma’am.”

  “How unfortunate for her! They have been wed a good year, have they not?”

  Patrick was made welcome in Dublin Castle, was introduced to those members of the Wellesley clan habitually dwelling in England and unknown to him.