An Uncertain Peace (The Making of a Man Series, Book 3)

by Andrew Wareham

  The four farms were inconveniently scattered across a swathe of central Dorset, each a mile or two separated from the next, making it difficult to let them to a single tenant who might have been able to make money from a large holding. A richer tenant could more easily be persuaded to amend his farming to meet modern needs, but that prospect did not exist.

  “The problem arises, Sir Richard, that the farms are too small to make a good living in the traditional way and too large to be cultivated as market gardens. One could put them down to potatoes and beans and peas, and keep goats and pigs besides, but it would require a supply of labour at certain times of the year and not at others and I do not know how that could be arranged.”

  “Have you spoken to the Workhouse keeper, to the Beadle?”

  Parkinson had not, was amazed that the very concept had not occurred to him. The Workhouse was full of idle hands by its very nature and the keepers would like nothing more than a source of occasional income to reduce their demands on the local taxpayers.

  “Genius, Sir Richard! I shall enter into discussions this very day, sir. The Meridew farms have seen their last wheat crop!”

  The farms would see forced labour instead; paupers and the elderly would find themselves in the fields at harvest time, lifting potatoes and picking peas and beans, and probably bent over planting them in the spring. No doubt the work would be beneficial to them, encouraging good habits in their idle souls.

  Dick was pleased to hear that and trusted that Parkinson would be able to get on with the business without bothering him any further. The Land was exceeding tedious, he believed.

  He was more concerned that Louise’s time was approaching and he was worried that so slight a lady might have a hard time of delivery. Louise, for that matter, was not at all sure she was looking forward to the event with any delight; she would however be glad of an end to the tedious business of carrying.

  August came in, hot and dry, and the crops all ripening well and Mrs Sudbury moved into the house, ‘to keep her chick company in her time of travail’. Dick was obliged to make the lady welcome, though he found the need after a couple of days to quietly remind her that Briggs answered to him and would retain the habits that Dick found comfortable.

  “But, my dear Sir Richard, I merely suggested to him that certain areas of the household could be better managed, in the way my own people go on!”

  “Nonetheless, ma’am, we have our own ways at Burkes.”

  The good lady was amazed to meet opposition and was unsure how exactly to deal with it – she had been tyrant of her own little demesne for so long that she could not comprehend disagreement, far less actual refusal of her commands. Fortunately, Louise went into labour before war could be declared.

  To the amazement of all she produced a healthy seven-pound son in less than twelve hours, declaring herself puzzled by all the fuss there had been about so trifling a business. It was not, she said, necessarily either comfortable or enjoyable, but it was hardly so earth-shattering an experience as she had been informed.

  “Richard Abraham Sharps Burke, ma’am,” she informed her mother, who had any number of suggestions of her own for names. “Not Jonathan, ma’am; I have every hope that Richard will grow up to become a learned and intelligent gentleman. Abraham for the tragic President Lincoln, a man I met but once but for whom I conceived the greatest affectionate respect; Sir Richard, I would add, feels precisely as I do. Sharps, of course, is for Sir Richard. I am so delighted to have given Sir Richard a son – not merely for the obvious reason, an heir, but because of the provisions of his father’s Will. I believe that the sum of one hundred and forty thousand pounds has been mentioned, held in Trust against this day.”

  The sum was huge, as Louise knew; she was not aware that the Sudburys lived on the income of barely sixty thousands in Consols and less in land, but she was sure that the amount should render her mother dumbstruck; a noble ambition, she supposed.

  “But, what is he to do with such a sum?”

  “I really do not know, Mama, but I have no doubt he will put it to good work for the benefit of the family – our family, that is.”

  “Oh… Why is ‘Sharps’ for Sir Richard?”

  “The name has a particular meaning for him, ma’am. He may wish to inform you why, one day.”

  Dick was not at all sure what was to be done with the money. It was not to be used to buy a landed estate, that he was certain of. There were so many possibilities both in England and overseas, but the most attractive seemed to lie in shipbuilding, particularly of naval ships. Iron-clad, screw ships with turrets, there was the future and the prospect of great profits; expand the yard in Liverpool and put money into a manufacturer of great guns, a British Dahlgren, and become a contractor to the Admiralty as well as selling to all of the world’s smaller countries. Not necessarily to produce the vast battleships that were being envisaged but the smaller gunboats that would be required to defend every port and to patrol the coastline, and possibly the cruisers that would protect the shipping lanes, there would be a huge number of them. He sat in his study at Burkes and sketched out his plans while waiting the three or four weeks that would be appropriate before he could go away from his wife’s side.

  The Depression was greatly to his advantage; it was very handy to be cash-rich when businesses were short of money. A word with Major Hewitt might be a good idea – he had sources of information and might, for example, know that one of the manufacturers of great guns was in dire need of an injection of money, and could offer a substantial holding in the business in exchange for a few tens of thousands slapped into their accounts. He sent a letter to London to enquire whether the Major was in Town and was invited to visit him by return of post. Major Hewitt had his own sources and would know that Dick had money in his pocket just now.

  “A son, I believe, Sir Richard! My congratulations, sir!”

  There was no great surprise in that comment; the announcement had been made in the columns of The Times, as was now obligatory for the genteel.

  “A source of real pleasure, Major Hewitt. Also a cause of great profit. I do not know if you are aware of the terms of my father’s Will?”

  That was a deliberate poser for Hewitt; the Will was a confidential document and he had no right to know anything of its terms. Dick had no doubt that he would have read every word of it.

  “Ah… I am to some extent conversant with certain elements of the document, Sir Richard.”

  “Then you will know that I now have access to some one hundred and forty thousands in cash. I am, of course, seeking a home for it, quite possibly in the field of armaments, of iron-clads and big guns. The ships may eventually come from my own yard.”

  “The gun-making firms of the north-east are in generally good financial health, Sir Richard, but there are several lesser manufacturers in the Birmingham area who would benefit from an injection of capital. More than one has plans for the production of breech-loading guns of various calibres, as well as of rifles. As always, it is the case that there are engineers who are wonderful inventors but very sorry men of business; I could give you an introduction to more than one of that ilk.”

  They talked of the world and of England and the demand that was rising for another extension of the franchise.

  “The Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston, will not hear of it, Sir Richard, but he has little left in him, I hear. His doctors warned him that he must rest and drink far less; he merely swore at them and had them thrown out of Number Ten. Who his successor will be, I do not know, but they are lesser men, Lords Russell and Derby, and will not last long. Mr Gladstone and Mr Disraeli are waiting in the wings and will soon stride on stage to make their bow as leaders; both are able men, in their way, and they will not refuse the demands for the vote to be extended to the middle order of people, and even to some of the more respectable working-men.”

  “They seem to have very similar policies, Major Hewitt.”

  “A little more of this, a tad less of that �
�� there is not very much between them. Disraeli will push more for expansion of the colonies; Gladstone will make an effort to protect the poorer and weaker of our people. Neither will make much difference. The colonies will grow, because there is a profit to be made, and to keep the Russian and French noses out of places where they do not belong. The poor may become a little less wretched, but only because the country as a whole grows richer. The politicians will be of little account, but when have they ever been?”

  “Cynical, sir! I agree with you.”

  “Will you wish to be involved in our endeavours overseas, Sir Richard?”

  “Not as an observer of battles, Major Hewitt, no. A tedious business and I find an increasing distaste for the smell of blood.”

  “There are other functions, Sir Richard, where a businessman could be of some value to us. An inspection of the Le Creusot works, for example, as a preliminary to the purchase of guns, might be of some interest. A visit to St Petersburg to speak to the Russian Admiralty regarding the sale of iron-clads to them could well provide a feeling for the state of the Russian fleets. The Ottomans might wish to purchase gunboats for service in the Black Sea…”

  “I could easily become available for those purposes, Major Hewitt.”

  “Excellent, Sir Richard. I shall be frank with you, sir, and explain why I shall be pleased to obtain your assistance.”

  Dick smiled and looked interested, hiding his disdain for such a ploy.

  ‘Frank’! The man was a stranger to the very concept of openness and honesty. He might be by way of a friend, but that did not mean one should believe a word he said.

  “The thing is, Sir Richard, I can lay my hands on a dozen of regular officers - Army of course, the Navy having its own little service – and not one of them will understand how a business works or whether a dockyard is efficient. I have very few men indeed who have both stood in a manager’s office and on the field of battle.”

  It was a sensible statement, eminently plausible. Dick wondered what his true reason was.

  “Returning to the topic of the Birmingham manufacturers, Major Hewitt, could you give me the names of those that might be of direct interest to me?”

  “Easily, Sir Richard. Two have proposals for weapons similar to the Gatling gun, which may be familiar to you and a third has a design for a small cannon, a four-pounder firing an explosive shell and breech-loading, capable of three rounds in a minute over open sights. Delaying to aim the weapon would of course greatly reduce the rate of fire. Was the small cannon to be successful then the possibility of a much more useful six or eight pounder might be explored. Shrapnel as well as high-explosive would be of value.”

  “Place batteries of such guns in the trench line and then an attack will become impossible, Major Hewitt. Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg, for example, narrowly failed in the front of rifles and ordinary cannon. A dozen batteries of small breech-loaders would have destroyed every man before they had covered one half of the ground. I would much like to be involved there, sir.”

  “I shall write to Mr Daniel to introduce you to him. Daniel is an engineer of surprising ability, Sir Richard, but his genius is limited strictly to his own field.”

  Dick returned to Burke’s, to the fuss and bother of an ornate baptismal ceremony, all overseen by Louise’s mother who was determined to make a great show of the affair.

  “Full dress uniform, Sir Richard!”

  She threw the words at him, a challenge.

  “But, of course, ma’am. What else would one wear? However, there is a minor difficulty inasmuch that I must determine whether I should wear English or American clothing? I faced the same problem in Washington not so many months ago when enjoying the festivities at the Inauguration.”

  She felt that the dress must be English, but he must wear his Medal.

  Dick gravely nodded.

  “Not side-arms, I presume, ma’am.”

  Certainly not, she agreed; not in a Church, most inappropriate!

  “The question of Godparents arises, Sir Richard.”

  “It does indeed, ma’am. One of Louise’s elder brothers, I had thought, together with a man of my choice, Major Hewitt being my favoured candidate. I know he will be glad to attend. For Godmother I believe that Hilda will be a fine choice.”

  “I had thought that Jonathan perhaps…”

  “No. I cannot be persuaded that Jonathan has the necessary attributes of a Godfather and he can hardly take Hilda’s place, ma’am!”

  “I am sure the dear boy would be admirably suited, Sir Richard!”

  “I am sure he must be suited to something, ma’am.”

  “On that subject, Jonathan, that is, Sir Richard, we are seeking a place for him. He must soon grace an occupation, we believe.”

  “I understand that the Sexton died last week, ma’am. A place in the Church might well suit Jonathan’s talents.”

  The sexton acted as caretaker and grave-digger for rural churches; Mrs Sudbury thought that Sir Richard had been so long overseas that he had not discovered the precise nature of the gentleman in question. She could not suspect him of satire, after all.

  “I believe that you have a number of managers working for you, Sir Richard…”

  “I have, ma’am. All of them are experienced men, either having commanded in the military or as trained engineers or chemists. Give Jonathan a University education in Natural Sciences or send him into the army for ten years and he will be useful to me. Without qualifications, he is of no value to my businesses.”

  “But… what can the dear boy do, Sir Richard? He has great talents, even if not of the most conventional in nature!”

  “Send him to Australia or to America, ma’am. Buy him strong clothing and a revolver and a ticket to the wild lands and tell him to go and that he will be welcome home in five or ten years as a grown man. Then close the door on him. If he does not choose to use his ticket, then let him make his own way. If you wish, ma’am, I can have him taken to Liverpool and put aboard ship, willy-nilly.”

  She could not believe that to be right for her boy; he was a sensitive soul, unsuited to the life that Sir Richard proposed.

  “Then send him to London, ma’am. He may make an existence as a play-actor.”

  Jonathan intruded more vigorously on Dick’s attention barely three weeks later. He was in process of making ready to go to Birmingham for a few days and then to Liverpool, when the post came in bearing an account from a tailor in Dorchester.

  “Plaistow, is this known to you?”

  “Higby and Son, tailors to gentlefolk, of Dorchester? Not mine, Sir Richard! I would not put you into clothes from such a one, sir, nor me. ‘A full suit of Gentleman’s apparel to include haberdashery’, the sum of thirty-two pounds and four shillings’; the account ‘signed-off’ to you, sir…”

  “Who?”

  “Not Mr Parkinson, sir, I do not think he would have bought clothes to be paid for by you. A full suit and smallclothes and shirts, all for thirty-two pounds! Not exactly a dandy, sir! The man in question must have been known to the tailor, and must have some connection to you, sir. He would not otherwise have given the clothes across without cash in hand. A gentleman… a name occurs to me, sir.”

  “And to me, Plaistow. Thank you.”

  Dick went in search of Louise, calling into the nursery first as a strong probability.

  “You visited your mother yesterday, did you not, my dear. Did you speak to your brother while you were there?”

  “Why, yes, I did. He was wearing a new set of clothes, and prodigious fine too, or so he believed. The poor boy was so proud of them. He mentioned that they were not inexpensive.”

  “Thirty-two pounds and four shillings, one understands, ma’am.”

  Dick gave her the letter from the tailor requesting payment.

  “But, he has not spoken to you since the christening, Sir Richard. How did he see you to gain your approval of such expenditure?” Comprehension dawned. “Oh! He did not, did he?”
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br />   “No, my dear. He most definitely did not. Was I to ride into the police station with this then he would be taken up for uttering a false document. He might then find himself at hard labour for seven years in the company of other convicted felons. I must speak to your father, and today, and I do not have the time to waste, for I must be in Birmingham tomorrow ready for a meeting on Thursday morning.”

  “What will you do, Sir Richard?”

  “I do not know, my dear. I shall not shoot the brat, but I may well box his ears! All depends on your father.”

  Mr Sudbury, barrister-at-law, was appalled, horrified, outraged even. He stared at the letter requesting early payment of the account, hopefully noticed that it did not mention Jonathan’s name.

  “I had seen him to be dressed somewhat smarter, Sir Richard, assumed his mother to have given him the money. A boy of his age will wish to show a good face, after all, it is not surprising that he should wish to clothe himself.”

  Mrs Sudbury was appealed to, hopefully, but said she had thought her husband had supplied the cash – her darling needed be properly outfitted after all, it would only have been right for Mr Sudbury to have provided for him.

  “I did not, ma’am. I did not refuse him, for he did not ask me. He bought the clothes using Sir Richard’s name.”

  “Oh! So kind of you, Sir Richard! But he is your brother, so it is only right that you should care for him.”

  “He used my name without first informing me, ma’am! He committed an act of fraud, in fact; a felony that can carry seven years at penal servitude.”

  She almost fainted, demanded that Mr Sudbury must repay the money instantly, to protect her foolish little boy who had made such a mistake unwittingly, all in ignorance, no doubt.

  “I am far more likely to call upon the Constabulary, ma’am! I did not bring up any of my children to be thieves and I will not tolerate criminality in them. Jonathan will leave this house, ma’am!”

  She cried that it should not be so. Where could he go?