Victorian Dawn (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 12)

by Andrew Wareham

  Joseph had heard rumours, but he had thought it best to ignore them. The Stars were family, and if some of them were less than savoury in their business practices, well, they had not been convicted yet and every man was innocent until proven guilty.

  He said as much to Masterson, ending with the comment that Mr George Star would never attempt to cheat an Andrews.

  “We are safe, for the love our families bear for each other, Mr Masterson. We shall go ahead with the contract.”

  “Then we must build our furnaces, sir. I presume it must take some months for the first shipments to arrive. I shall have plans drawn up for your approval, sir.”

  Joseph gave the good news in person to George Star; it was a courtesy, and it would do no harm to remind him that the family was directly involved.

  “I was not aware that you had contacts in foreign trade, George.”

  “Agents in different countries, Joseph, almost inevitable when one exports as our mills do. We send cottons and made-up goods to one half of the world, or so it seems. Except for India, of course, where the Company has its own mills, and even there we have hopes – the Company is growing old, staid in its ways and less able to react to the new condition of the world.”

  Joseph wondered exactly what that meant.

  “The China trade especially is becoming more and more open, Joseph. The Company will not run opium – although it has no objections to its cultivation in lands it controls in India – and the Country Merchants are becoming increasingly powerful as a result, and the Company can no longer ignore them. It was used to be the case that the opium runners took only silver from the Chinese, for being unable to move silks or tea to England. Now the Company turns the blind eye to direct trade, in effect permits them as competitors provided they supply the silver they require. Singapore as well is effectively independent of the Company, though they do not like the fact and try to enforce their monopolies there.”

  Joseph listened to the words, his mind busily extracting the elements of truth that laid behind them. India was apparently irrelevant, had nothing to do with the trade in tin and copper which was the business of the morning, so should not have been mentioned. That meant that it, in fact, had much to do with George’s proposition. The opium runners as well, and Singapore, must be involved – the metals were coming through the new port, smuggled perhaps by the returning opium ships on their way to India. Why?

  He could not ask George directly, and there would be no point in attempting to bribe the man Tonks to reveal all. Tonks was a nasty fellow, but his loyalty to George was absolute, as was well known. Joseph could not make enquiries directly in the East; it would take too long.

  “Can we be sure of a regular tonnage of the metals we need, George?”

  “For five years, yes, Joseph. For ten or more? I cannot tell; no man can. The future is closed to us, particularly in the wilder places of the world. The tin comes from small workings in the Malay states, where exactly is unknown to me. The agents say it was used to be sold into China, when the nation was great and its trading junks roamed their waters. China is in decline and their people are seen less often, we are told, and the producers need a safe new buyer. My people tell me that they have offered contracts and have promised to fund expansion of the diggings in exchange for guaranteed supplies of the ore. The agents will do the refining themselves and send ingot metal across the seas to England.”

  It sounded acceptable; tin was hard to come by the world over and they must take what they could get.

  “Copper, of course, is in shorter supply from the Welsh mine and is less available from our own country, the Pennines yielding only tiny amounts now. The great bulk comes from South America, from the lands that were once Spanish. They are now independent and in political turmoil. British engineers have gone out to install steam engines for them, and have run them for a time before returning to England in despair at the chaos surrounding them. Both Trevithick and Robert Stephenson have been involved there at different times. There are still steam men from Britain working there, and a few managers as well, and it is possible to arrange contracts through their agency. Provided there is no immediate civil war or neighbourly invasion at any given moment, then there will be shiploads coming to us. The flow will be uneven and I am to act as a factor in England. When there is a glut I will hold stocks, and release them to the market when there is a shortage.”

  That was probably necessary, Joseph accepted. It also meant that George would be in a position to manipulate the market and create the shortages that would force prices up.

  “Our contract will, of course, have certain guarantees relating to price, George.”

  “Of course, Joseph! In exchange for permitting me to become sole supplier to your works then, contracted for five years, we shall set in place assurances relating to price and quantities.”

  Five years was a long time in the world of business. New lands were visited every year and British trade was expanding dramatically – none knew what mines might be discovered in half a decade. Joseph signed a preliminary commitment, provisional on contracts being written and agreed, on the spot.

  “Got him, Mr Tonks. We needed the Andrews name and now we have it. They will pay ten per centum less than market, unfailingly, remember! In return we have the cover of perhaps the most respectable firms in the country. No man accuses the Andrews Works of failing to meet the terms of a contract or of producing poor quality goods. As sole suppliers to the Andrews companies we shall share in their unquestioned respectability and no questions will be asked of the source of our supplies of tin particularly; it will be obvious that we have satisfied the Andrews and therefore must be virtuous.”

  “Where exactly does the tin originate, sir?”

  George knew that Tonks was both intelligent and inquisitive; he would not be able to bear ignorance, would be almost forced to make enquiries in an area where no questions must ever be asked.

  “At it very simplest, Mr Tonks, Singapore. But it is not mined there, of course. Singapore is no more than a rich trading harbour. Most of the metal is shipped out of a sultanate on the coast of the island of Borneo, which is a wild land unknown to almost all in Europe. There is a rajah there who has come recently to prominence, having, so it seems, usurped the throne. The gentleman is said to have married a daughter, or possibly all of the daughters – this being unclear – of the late occupant of his palace. There were sons, but they would seem to have perished in, or immediately after, the succession of the new ruler. Suffice it to say that he is unchallenged in his mastery of his lands. He has, I am informed, cemented the loyalty of the ordinary folk by much reducing the taxation upon them and he has armed the palace guard sufficiently well that none of the rich are willing to make an attempt on him. He, obviously, needs money to replace the tax revenue he has so wisely given away and to meet his expenditure on muskets, powder and ball.”

  “Ah, I see, sir! He has a tin mine and wishes to sell securely to England rather than precariously to China.”

  “No, Mr Tonks. His lands produce rice and tropical fruits and various vegetables in good quantity. There is copra as well, and almost nothing else, although there may be small quantities of gold dust in some of the inland rivers where there is a population of active head-hunters who are said to welcome the arrival of prospectors… He has no mine, but he does have a European ship with a number of cannon and a very willing crew, mostly made up of convicts from Botany Bay who have no other port to run to.”

  “Piracy, sir?”

  “I believe so, though I have not asked and the rajah has not seen fit to inform me. I suspect that he has taken more than one of the larger trading junks that run to the Malay States and around Asian waters generally. Far more than one!”

  “How did you come into contact with him, sir?”

  Tonks was fascinated; he had wished he could be a pirate since he had been a very little boy.

  “I did not, Mr Tonks. He sent an emissary to me, a trader from Singapore who had bee
n long known to him and who was willing to spend a year or so voyaging to England and back in exchange for the opportunity to retire to a safe life in the new sultanate. It may well be the case that questions were being raised in Singapore about the gentleman’s business activities and the opportunity to disappear was too good to be missed.”

  “Then he, a man of Borneo, knows of you, sir.”

  “He is an Englishman, Mr Tonks, and well known to me. Known for the whole of his life, in fact!”

  “Then, sir, he must be…”

  “So he must, Mr Tonks, but we might prefer not to mention the fact.”

  Tonks could discover many reasons why silence was desirable in this instance; he said no more.

  “Payment, Mr Tonks, is to be made in kind in the first instance. Powder and ball; not muskets, he is having those hand crafted in his own smithies it would seem, in steel and rifled and probably of far better quality than our redcoats carry. His smiths earn tuppence a day, if they are lucky, and can spend a week on each barrel; our manufacturers will turn out a hundred to their one, but their quality is far finer. Besides that, cottons, of course, and billets of wrought iron and a few cases of brandy – normal trade goods. Glass bottles as well, they being hard to come by, it would seem.”

  “Empty bottles, sir?”

  “Specified as such, Mr Tonks. He does not want his people exposed to gin and destroyed as the Africans were by the slave traders. Mind you, that is not to say that he is above slave-trading himself. The run into Arabia is highly profitable and tens of thousands of Malays out of the Spice Islands are trafficked each year, and two or three times as many black men out of the eastern seaboard of Africa. The trade there is greater by far than that out of the Slave Coast and into the Americas. The Royal Navy has a squadron attempting to suppress the Indian Ocean trade and I cannot imagine that they stop one ship in ten, from all I have been told. I spoke to gentlemen in Liverpool last year who were very well informed about all aspects of the trade, both eastern and western, and they were openly envious of the profits the Arabs were making.”

  “Fast steam ships, sir, might well have a place in such a trade…”

  “No, Mr Tonks. I examined the possibilities last year. The distances involved are such that a steamer travelling from the Spice Islands would have to refill her bunkers, would have to load coal, somewhere on the Indian coast. That would be a hazardous proceeding, almost impossible to keep quiet. The problem of the return journey must also be solved – a ship travelling empty, in ballast, would arouse suspicion, and a slaver can carry little else in the way of a cargo because of her internal configuration. I concluded that it could not be done until steam ships are made bigger and probably with steel hulls so that they can become truly ocean-going. A great pity!”

  “It is indeed, sir. It is always a source of grief when one is in sight of a profit that transpires to be unattainable.”

  They sighed in unison.

  “What do we know of glass manufacturing, Mr Tonks? Why are bottles hard to come by overseas? What are the prospects? For that matter, what is glass? Where is it made in England?”

  Tonks noted the enquiries, promised an early answer.

  “Sand, sir. Fine sand, sometimes with a colouring agent added, subjected to great heat in what is referred to as a ‘cone’, that being a furnace, coal fired, of more-or-less conical shape. The molten glass is removed from the furnace in lumps and then is blown into a hollow bottle, while being turned and shaped externally. It is a skilled process. Some glass is now moulded, compressed and forced into shape, in a machine that in some ways resembles a printing press. It is possible to make crude bowls and plates and open dishes by moulding. They are cheap and heavy but there are firms making them, and they sell. There are many glassworks in Lancashire and Cheshire, sir, there being quantities of sand hereabouts, and coal, of course.”

  George was interested; a new endeavour, another string to the bow, an addition to the empire. Another few hundred a year perhaps, for a man could never have too much money and he had three sons and a daughter to see established in the world.

  “Normal process, Mr Tonks – discover me a bottle maker of medium size for his industry and negotiate a contract for at least one half of his production. A year and we shall increase our quantities until we take up three parts of his output. There will be a few of flaws and poor-quality pieces in each of his deliveries – that is inevitable, no firm will ever attain perfection. Find them, put them to one side and then when the time is ripe present them as having come from the one consignment and refuse it. His cash flow should suffer sufficiently then for him to be in trouble. Discover his bank, of course, and ensure that they will be unable to make him any loan, and put the word round generally that he is a bad risk financially. When he comes close to insolvency then make a show of being informed that he is in trouble and run to his aid. A share issue, if he is a company; a partnership if he is not, ourselves to have a majority holding.”

  Tonks nodded and grinned – there was no point to allowing another man to make profits from their enterprise; far better to take the money to themselves.

  “Regarding the zinc mine, sir. The workings are almost wholly underground, in the nature of things, and that leaves the moorland unused. It would be possible to herd goats, sir, for milk and for meat. The flesh is not popular in the towns but the villagers eat it happily, and so would the miners, were the price to be kept low. Goats’ milk and cheese is strong in flavour but edible and food is in short supply again. The cost would be low and the profits not insignificant; add to that, sir, the good done to our name is worth considering. We will wish before too long to convert our trackway into a proper railway line and will need the goodwill of a number of the local folk if they are not to make public objections that will render the process more expensive.”

  “And?”

  “And, sir?”

  “Mr Tonks, I know you! We have worked together, to our great and mutual benefit, for some several years now. The gains you have suggested are real, but they are hardly sufficient to make the initiative worthwhile. What else, sir?”

  Tonks grinned and surrendered, as he had expected; Mr George was so much happier when he could be persuaded that he was the more clever of them and that he had caught out his underling.

  “I am considering another wife, sir. The young lady in question is of a small local family, little more than yeoman farmers but the father with some ambitions to be the squire. He would run the goats – not himself, a herdsman to get his hands dirty, as goes without saying – and take a profit from the dairy and, importantly, add to his name in the locality for selling the extra food in time of shortage. The daughter is his oldest, a girl of three and twenty years and starting to worry that she is on the shelf, and happy to take a husband with a big house and an income many times greater than her father’s. There is a younger son as well, a bright lad – it was him I came across first – who will do well in the firm, sir.”

  “Then allow me, Mr Tonks, to congratulate you and wish you happy. Buy your goats, sir, and enlarge your nursery! How did you meet the boy, by the way?”

  “There are a number of tiny deposits of ore across the moorland, sir. Too small to be commercial, they would be worked out within a couple of years of proper mining, but they will make a few pounds in the pocket of a young man with a pick and shovel and a wheelbarrow as the whole of his outlay. Young Theodore was busying himself in all of his spare hours on an outcropping of zinc on his father’s land and came to me begging permission to sell me his ore to refine, for he could not build his own furnace. We agreed a price – low because his costs were almost nothing – and I came into contact with the family that way as he was not of age and his father needed to sign the receipts for him.”

  “He is a young man who will do well for us; you are perfectly correct, as so very often is the case, Mr Tonks. He knows the value of money and wishes to lay his hands upon some by working hard. How old is he?”

  “Sixteen years,
sir. He gave up on schooling young – he learned his letters and to count and cipher at Dame School and had no desire at all to learn Latin and Greek. His father was happy enough not to pay fees for him and he made himself useful on their farm. I have offered him a place in the offices at the mills to learn the ways of doing business in town, and we shall see what eventuates, sir. I suspect he will find himself a way of making money; I shall wait for a year or two and see if he comes to me with an idea of his own.”

  There was always a shortage of young men to be engineers and managers; the schools produced Classical scholars who could often hardly count beyond ten and there were no colleges to teach skills. Both men had their eyes permanently open for intelligent youths who could be made useful to the firms.

  “What of the supply of cotton, Mr Tonks? There was word of shortages on the Liverpool docks this month.”

  “Atlantic storms, sir, interfering with the shipping, no more than that. All is back to normal now, sir, but stocks in the warehouses are down. I sold off some of the surplus we held, sir, the price having risen, and took a nice little profit from it. I have it in mind to rebuild our stocks, sir, and perhaps indulge in an occasional speculation in the field.”

  “Very wise. Talking of speculations, how do you feel about railway shares just at the moment?”

  “That which goes up, sir, must always come down. I put some thousands of my own money onto the Exchange in Manchester last year and bought into a number of new issues of railways stock. I am about to sell, I think, sir. Most of the shares have risen by thirty or even forty per cent, while the railway lines themselves are not yet fully laid and I doubt a single engine has moved on any of them.”