Killing's Reward

by Andrew Wareham

  “I shall see him when next I go into Stoke, Mother.”

  Mr William Higgins arrived from London before Samuel was able to visit Mr Malone. Mr Higgins came full of determination to make the best of the one great chance he had of making a success of his life. He had been three years working as a trainee glass-blower in his father’s business and knew that there was nothing more for him there – his two elder brothers came first. The opportunity to create a new manufactury would not come again, he suspected, and he must be a success.

  He was an ardent young man, one who firmly believed that nothing was impossible to the man who would work to make his dream come true. No more than twenty years of age he was already red in the cheeks from the proximity to molten glass and possessed the over-large chest and shoulders of the glass-blower, used to inflating his lungs and giving a sustained and powerful exhalation of his breath. He had a piercing stare, looking directly into the eyes of his interlocutor, and smiling only rarely, his words weighed and meaningful. Samuel thought he was a prig and also that he was likely to be a great asset to the business, devoting his all to his master’s interests.

  He came up from the stagecoach that had taken two days to reach Stoke from London, overnighting at a cheap inn, paid for in the ticket. He’d reached Stoke in the late afternoon and he had to take a room there, discovering in the morning that he must walk the six miles to Leek or hire the landlord’s gig and a boy to drive it for five shillings. By the time he reached Thornehills he was tired, rumpled and out of pocket. He was nonetheless determined to make good.

  Samuel greeted him with pleasure, asking how he had managed to get to them so early. On discovering that he had spent two nights on the road he was much amazed, having himself driven far more comfortably to and from London in a private chaise.

  “Not to worry, Mr Higgins. You are to stay with us at Thornehills for two nights while you familiarise yourself with our coke ovens at the pit here and get to know some of the important people in Heythorne’s businesses. That done, you are to go down to Palethorpe – I shall take you there myself – and we will set you up in your own cottage with a cook-housekeeper to do for you, paid for by the firm. You have more important things to do than stand over a range cooking your dinner, sir! Then, sir, you are to inspect the deposits of sand we have located and decide which – if any – are suitable for our purposes. If, as I much hope, we find there is good sand, then it will be to locate and design and build your glass cone and bring it into production. If possible, more than one, for we may wish to sell bottles as well as make them for our own use. For today, you must meet Mr Nick, who is our most important gentleman friend and employee, and my good mother, who has run the firms since my father’s early decease.”

  Mr Higgins was overwhelmed by this greeting, managed to make clear just how much he was obliged to his good patron. He did not think to enquire about his salary.

  Samuel, nervously going over all he had and had not said to his very first appointment, to the young man who was to create his own new addition to the business, who was to demonstrate his acumen to the observing and censorious world of enterprise, realised that he must mention remuneration.

  “Our first year together is on liking, of course, Mr Higgins. I had thought that the sum of sixteen pounds a month, together with your cottage and housekeeper and the cost of your pony and trap would be correct. The horse, of course, will be kept at the stableyard at Palethorpe. You can drive a pony, I trust?”

  Mr Higgins was forced to admit that he could not. Dwelling in London was not conducive to learning such.

  “No matter, sir! One of the boys will drive you at first and teach you the reins. It will not be a matter of a month before you have mastered the very little there is to such driving.”

  Samuel took Mr Higgins to meet with Nick and to be shown round the immediate area.

  “We eat for six o’clock, Mr Higgins. We do not dress for dinner – none of that nonsense at Thornehills. With your permission I shall beg one of the maids to unpack your bag and hang your shirts in the wardrobe.”

  Somewhat flustered, not used to a household with multiple maids to hand, Mr Higgins intimated that he would be very pleased at such a service.

  To Nick’s initial surprise, Mr Higgins was immediately at home with him; he recognised exactly what Nick was, familiar with his sort from the streets of London.

  “No fears for me, Mr Nick! I know me manners, and you need worry not at all that I shall step out of place. From what Mr Heythorne told my good father, his mother has run the firms since his father kicked the bucket. Stands to reason she needed a man in the background to whisper in the ear of any who thought that a woman on her own would be a soft touch!”

  “Just so, sir. Exactly so. I have been a loyal follower of the family since my late master first utilised my services. He was a truly great man, Mr Higgins, and I do believe Mr Samuel Heythorne may become his match. I much hope so and will give my all to that so-desirable end.”

  “Me too, mate! If the firm grows and the bottles are good, well, so am I! Do me best, won’t I!”

  “I can ask no more, Mr Higgins. I presume you are of single status, Mr Higgins?”

  “No money up till now, Mr Nick. Paid pennies by me dad while learning the trade. Taught me the lot, so he did, hoping I could find a job in some other bloke’s cone, one what didn’t have a son to follow on, that’s what he thought. Never reckoned I’d fall on me feet like this. Laughing, ain’t I? Work me balls off this next five years then I’ll have a bit of money in me pocket as well as a good job. Look about for a missus then, maybe.”

  “I am quite sure you will find yourself well off in five years, Mr Higgins. I believe Mr Heythorne may well offer you a share in the profits if you do well for him.”

  “Bloody Hell! Do you reckon so, Mr Nick? Twenty years and I’ll be rollin’ in it! You just watch me, Mr Nick!”

  “Oh, I shall certainly do that, Mr Higgins. It is one of my purposes in our establishment.”

  “I didn’t mean that way, me old mate! Nothing to worry about with me. I ain’t one to go shitting on me own doorstep, not me, Mr Nick! Goin’ to make a fortune, ain’t I – and doin’ it straight, no fears. What ‘ave I got to look out for in the people, Mr Nick? Am I goin’ to put any noses out of joint by bein’ ‘ere?”

  Nick noticed that Mr Higgins’ accent failed as soon as he became excited; that could be dealt with. It was better a manager sounded posh; it made it easier to establish a distance from the labouring men.

  “No. Mr Richard Rowlands will try to impress you with his gentlemanly nature… Do not bother with him. He remains in the firm because he has some uses and his father has more. He can persuade the managers and owners of potteries to buy our coal and coke – and that is his sole use! The managers in the pits are wholly reliable. They have grown up with us, in effect, and will simply welcome you to the family, as one might say. Offer them courtesy and ask their advice. I am sure you know how to handle such men and they will be useful to you.”

  Mr Higgins knew just what he must do, having been able to listen to and learn from experienced craftsmen in his father’s glasssworks.

  Mrs Heythorne showed herself at her most regal when Mr Higgins met her. She had the feeling that it might be wise to establish just who was in command of the remainder of the business.

  “Mr Heythorne is taking over the expansion of our concern, Mr Higgins. Glass is our first step in that growth. As soon as you have successfully established your part of the firm, then you will be left to run it, sir, while Mr Heythorne concentrates his mind elsewhere. When the time comes that you are given the whole of the responsibility, then be sure your recompense will be more than adequate. My late husband firmly believed that the worker was worthy of his hire. At its simplest, sir, if you make money for us, we shall place a proportion of the money in your pocket.”

  “That’ll do me, missus. You ain’t goin’ to find a better bet than me for gettin’ the job done, straight you won’t!
”

  Josie noticed the accent and disapproved – a manager should climb out of the gutter, in her opinion.

  “Your habits of speech, Mr Higgins, must become appropriate to your position. One might suggest that you are one of the nobs, now, and you ought to sound the part. No Cant and a proper diction, sir. Not this new German way of pronunciation that we hear sometimes, even in this neck of the woods, but good, traditional English such as the County has long known.”

  Mr Higgins had no idea what she was talking about but hastened to agree with her; he would mind his speech henceforth, so he promised.

  He came to the dinner table dressed in his Sunday best, suspecting that he might still seem out of place, the poor relation. Not too much so, was his first thought as he greeted Master Abraham and Miss Mary, seeing that both were dressed adult but not too emphatically so. Miss Josephine was still a child and very pleasantly so, he believed, greeting him very politely on her way to her father’s house to spend her evening and night.

  He enjoyed the food, a roast of beef and vegetables of the season, well cooked and served by a pair of maids and followed by a sweet tart with cream, all fresh from the Thornehill’s lands.

  “The advantage of living out of town, Mr Higgins. Apart from the beef, everything is fresh this day.”

  “It tastes like it, Mr Heythorne. What they call fresh in London is yesterday’s at very best.”

  “I found that when I stayed there earlier in the year, Mr Higgins. Food in London is not of the best, and most expensive.”

  The family relaxed around the table after the meal, talking together over tea or more of the beer that had accompanied the meal.

  “No wines here, I fear, Mr Higgins. The disadvantage of living in the countryside, sir! It is not easy to get hold of a drinkable bottle of wine and brandy is hard to come by. There are two pubs in Leek that brew a very respectable beer and a good porter, and you will find the same in Stone when you are settled at Palethorpe. Tea is to hand, and you can purchase coffee beans in Stoke, generally, that is. You can eat and drink within reason well, but you will not find London’s luxuries, I fear.”

  “Didn’t see too much of luxury where we were, Mr Heythorne, though my father lives well enough off of the glass cone. It depends what part of London you’re in, sir.”

  “A vast town, indeed. It amazed me when we first drove into the town and were the better part of an hour on the road before we reached our inn. You will not find places of that size here, Mr Higgins. When you drive into Stone you will see the end of the town from the first house you pass.”

  Mr Higgins said that he had noticed the bulk of places the stage had passed through to be small indeed.

  Abraham entered the conversation to say that he wished he could see London one day, but he suspected he might see Liverpool and the docks there first. He explained his intention to go West, to make a fortune in the new lands.

  Mr Higgins was envious, to an extent.

  “Every young man thinks about that, sir – those who know of America, that is. The chance of adventure, and of a fortune, Mister Abraham.”

  “Never to come back though,” Miss Mary observed, opening her mouth for perhaps the first time other than to eat.

  Mr Higgins caught her eye as he replied, agreeing with her that few seemed ever to return. He noticed that she was not unhandsome, her shape noticeably female and her face attractive rather than beautiful. He liked blue eyes, he decided, and glossy black ringlets. He was also much aware that the wise young man did not pursue the master’s sister. He smiled politely and withdrew his gaze.

  Josie observed the byplay and made a mental note that it might be possible to keep her daughter’s settlements in the family. If she was encouraged into Mr Higgins’ company, then she would in effect remain at home. It could be a very comfortable solution to her marital desires. That could wait until they were certain of Mr Higgins’ competence. The young man sounded off very well, but she would wait until he had actually produced a working glass manufactury before she considered bringing him into the family.

  It occurred to Mr Higgins as they idly talked that Miss Mary was less gifted in the intellects than either of her brothers – she was not in any way stupid but was placid and lacked their inquiring nature. Not to worry, she was a female, after all.

  Mr Higgins had never seen a pit before – they did not have them in London. He was in equal parts fascinated and appalled as he was led around the pithead and then taken down the drift to the black coal face. Mr Burkenshawe noticed his reactions with grim amusement while Mr Pattisdale was inclined to deplore his ignorance of the realities of the underground man’s life.

  “There’s women and children ‘ere as well, Mr Pattisdale!”

  Mr Higgins sounded scandalised.

  “The family works together, Mr Higgins. Between them, they make a wage far higher than they could earn on a farm, which is where most originated. A six day week only – the Sabbath is needed for the prop men to work and for the carpenter to mend the trackway and the blacksmith to sharpen and straighten the tools and repair the little wagons. They will take home, a man and his woman and three or four living children, the better part of thirty or even forty shillings. Buying in their bread and mutton from our store will cost them less than ten shillings for the week and their cottage comes rent-free. You will be expected to match that for your better men, of course.”

  That was not so easily attained, Mr Higgins thought, before he realised that the children could do much in the cone, loading in the bottles to be annealed and emptying again and working with their mothers to pack the bottles in straw to be carried away. The women could shift the sand and coke to the furnace and take over all of the unskilled labour, leaving the men to the blowing. He promised himself a few hours with pencil and paper, working out precisely how his new manufactury should be organised.

  A good word, ‘organised’. His father’s place operated by tradition and long habit rather than by scientific analysis of all that could be done. It was a new age coming in and new men would profit from it.

  Mr Burkenshawe took him to the coke ovens, stinking and dirty and dripping with tar.

  “Can nothing be done with the tar, sir?”

  “Some little is smeared over the timbers underground, Mr Higgins, and retards the rot. An amount is used on the axles of the wagons, so that they turn the more smoothly. The bulk is a great nuisance to us and we burn it as we can – filthy though the smoke is. Some of the people will take buckets home in winter to pour in small amounts on their fires in the cottages, adding to the heat, but it stinks the places out.”

  It was wasteful but evidently there was nothing to be done… Mr Higgins was struck by a memory of the shipyards on the Thames, within sight of his father’s glass cone.

  “Tar for waterproofing., sir. Would not the shipyards wish to use it?”

  “Possibly, Mr Higgins, but the yards are far distant from us and the tar is heavy.”

  Both Burkenshawe and Pattisdale reported favourably on the new gentleman.

  “Don’t just look – thinks about all he sees, Mr Heythorne, sir. A man who may be a valuable addition to our little world, sir.”

  Samuel took Mr Higgins down to Palethorpe and showed him into his new abode, a cottage nearly twice as great as those of the colliery hands.

  “There are three bedrooms, you will observe, Mr Higgins, and a kitchen, a dining room and one for sitting downstairs. The necessary facilities are outside, of course. There is water from a tap, due to our foresight in damming up two of the springs on the hillside and diverting their flow into a brick header tank uphill of our little village. There is a coal shed which is filled by the mine, gratis, sir, and a chimney and two fireplaces downstairs besides the kitchen range. No heating upstairs, of course. The carpenter has furnished the house with tables and chairs and a bedframe and a chest of drawers and we have bought in a mattress and sheets and blankets as well. Your cook-housekeeper has seen to the provision of other household
necessities – there is no reason for you to waste your energies on buying in plates and such. Housekeeping monies will be your responsibility, but you will not pay the cook – she is part of your remuneration, sir.”

  It had the desired effect, almost overwhelming Mr Higgins with a casual generosity that cost really very little.

  The cook was already installed in her kitchen, a fire in the cooking range and busy with baking of some sort.

  “Thought a cake would go down well, so I did, sir. Bread comes from the little store, sir. Puts it up on the slate we do and pays every month for convenience sake. Buys onions and beans and whatever’s in season there as well, sir. For the rest, I can walk into Stone a couple of times a week, sir.”

  A quiet and tactful conversation saw Mr Higgins with an advance on his pay and able to put the housekeeping into cook’s hand, all very discreetly. Samuel was rather pleased with his mother for making the suggestion that the young man would be short of cash in the first instance.

  “You will have needs for your office, Mr Higgins. While the works is building, for the first few months, you will no doubt use your cottage as your workplace. The best might be to put in a table and chairs in one of the upstairs rooms – a bookcase as well and a pair of lanterns as being better than candles. You will need writing paper and pencils and pens and ink – we shall make that purchase in Stone later today. If there is anything we cannot find there – which is well feasible – then I will pick them up in Stoke in the morning on my way through. For the moment, let us inspect the site, Mr Higgins.”

  “A pot of tea for when thou comes back in, sir?”

  Samuel raised an eyebrow to Mr Higgins – she was his servant.

  “Oh! Yes, if you please, Cook. That will be very welcome.”

  “We should build downhill of the coking oven, Mr Heythorne. Easier far to run the firing down the hill than up it. If we are to build in a little trackway, as you suggest, sir, then the boys can run the wagons uphill empty and stand on the brakes of the loaded tubs coming down. It will mean as well that the loads of sand coming in – which are heavy, in the nature of things, will run downhill more than up. Closer to the river as well, which cannot be unwise. You tell me there may be a canal one day, Mr Heythorne, so the nearer to that, the better.”