The Stranger from the Sea: A Novel of Cornwall, 1810-1811

by Winston Graham

‘Well would you have been better pleased if you had known I was disobeying your strict orders not to do what I wanted to do?’

  ‘For God’s sake, boy, are your parents tyrants that you have to scheme and lie to get your own way! Could there not at least have been a discussion on it?’

  ‘You’d said no. What more could you say?’

  ‘I’m not sure I meant it as irrevocably as you took it.’

  ‘Well, I so took it.’

  Ross said: ‘I knew Francis Harvey well and liked him. If you have a boy who is just growing up and he shows a tendency to play with a dangerous thing which has killed a friend you say to him, “don’t do that! you’ll injure yourself.” So I did to you with high-pressure steam, just as I would tell you to beware the vellows on the beach, or keep away from the cow just after she’s calved, or don’t go down that mine, it’s been closed for years and the planks will be rotten. If when you grow older you don’t understand that as a filial impulse, you’ll make a bad father!’

  ‘I think it was a little more than that.’

  ‘It’s hard to recollect my exact feelings after several years. Perhaps I was afraid of your becoming too fascinated by Trevithick.’

  Jeremy blew out a breath. ‘That’s possible.’

  Ross said: ‘His inventions are so high-flying and then come to naught. The collapse of his demonstration in London, fascinating though it was, did not surprise me. Nor did the explosion that killed those men. And since then, what has he done?’

  ‘The wonderful experiment at Pen-y-Daren, when his locomotive drew five wagons with ten tons of iron and carried seventy men a distance of ten miles. That was a marvel.’

  ‘That was before the London experiment.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Jeremy was disconcerted at his father’s memory. ‘But it was still a marvel and has yet to be equalled.’

  Ross said: ‘Trevithick is now a sick man. Back in Cornwall and little advanced for all his years in London. As you told me, you were unable to get to see him.’ He added as Jeremy was about to speak: ‘That is not meant to be a prejudiced view. Nothing would please me more than to see him succeed triumphantly –’

  ‘Mr Woolf,’ said Jeremy, ‘is just as committed to strong steam. Only he is not interested in developing the road carriage.’

  ‘Well I must ask myself then, was there any other reason apart from consideration for your physical safety that made me dislike the idea of your becoming involved on a practical level.’

  ‘Does it matter now? Why ask these questions? What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Nothing, of course. Except to take me into your confidence a little more freely.’

  ‘I’m sorry again,’ Jeremy said, but sulkily.

  Ross said: ‘It could have been an instance of false pride.’

  Jeremy was surprised enough to look at his father.

  ‘What, in you?’

  ‘Yes, possibly. In spite of oneself one sometimes nurtures false notions of what a man of our position shall do. As you will have observed, throughout my life I have worked alongside my workers and cared not a curse for calloused fingers or dirty nails in seeing to the mine or farm. But studying the principles of steam and motion at a practical level is a little like becoming a – a refined blacksmith.’

  ‘Does that matter either?’

  ‘Well, what other young man of your position has wanted to do this? Quite different from standing by and taking an intelligent interest and encouraging the working inventor. It is somewhat akin to entering the forces without becoming an officer.’ Ross put out one of the candles in an attempt to discourage the moth. ‘Dear God, how consequential and old-fashioned this sounds! Pray don’t think I agree with it; I am trying to explore my own motives and give them a public airing.’

  Jeremy poured himself a third glass of port.

  ‘I came across this view when I first went to Harvey’s, Father. Mr Henry Harvey was quite pleased to entertain me as the son of Captain Poldark who had called to look round his works; but he could not quite believe that I wished to work on the nuts and bolts. Twasn’t done, my dee-ur!’

  His lapse into the comic vernacular was a first sign of lessening tension.

  Ross said: ‘Even now I am not quite sure what the fascination is.’

  ‘Of steam? For me, you mean?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Jeremy shut one of the windows and latched it. ‘I must have told you this before.’

  ‘Others perhaps. You never bothered to inform me.’

  The young man raised his eyebrows at this bitterness escaping.

  ‘It’s too late tonight, Father.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Jeremy hesitated, aware of the clash of wills.

  ‘Is this a condition of some sort?’

  ‘Of course not. Of course not.’

  Still he hesitated. ‘Well … isn’t it obvious? Strong steam is the most remarkable discovery since the wheel…’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Well … consider its power. And, unlike gunpowder, its peaceful uses are limitless. In the end it will provide light and heat and replace the horse and the sail. It will transform civilization!’

  Ross said: ‘For the better?’

  ‘I believe so. Anyway its power has come to stay. We cannot turn back. If we don’t develop it, others will.’

  Ross looked at his son, who was now, much against its wishes, helping the injured moth out of the other window before he closed it.

  ‘With Saturday’s meeting coming on, it’s important I should know as much on all this as I can.’

  ‘But that’s just it; I don’t want the decision on the engine to be influenced in any way by my being your son! The choice should be made quite indifferently.’

  ‘So it shall be. But let us be practical. Saving the presence of some complete outsider, some engineer from Truro or Redruth, the decision ultimately has to be mine. What do the Trenegloses know? And the Curnows and Aaron Nanfan have already been consulted by you…’

  ‘Mr Harvey and Mr West will be here.’

  ‘Yes – I’m relying a good deal on that.’

  There was a pause. Jeremy finished his port and inelegantly wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

  ‘Well, let us see when Saturday comes, Father.’ Ross put out another of the candles.

  ‘Lately I have been looking again at our old engine at Wheal Grace, and I have been talking to Peter Curnow. You’ve made many unfavourable comparisons during the last weeks with what can be built now. But Beth was put up by Trevithick, or at least to Trevithick’s designs. Have his ideas changed so radically in twenty years?’

  ‘When Beth was built the Watt patent of his separate condenser had some years to run; and if other engineers infringed it they courted a lawsuit. Watt was pretty unscrupulous, wasn’t he?’

  ‘So I’ve been told.’

  ‘At Grace we have a Boulton & Watt type of engine working at only a few pounds above the pressure of the atmosphere, with some improvements, of course, by Bull and Trevithick, and it is a good engine, will work for years if properly treated. There are many such about. Indeed many of them are working at far below their proper efficiency because of ignorance and neglect. I wouldn’t say that about Beth. But her best is just not good enough.’

  Ross put out the third candle. From the last he lit two carrying candlesticks.

  Jeremy said: ‘When the Boulton & Watt patent firstly ran out they took away all their experienced engineers and agents. Murdock left the year before, and so many mines depended on him … It seems as if for a few years there weren’t enough Cornishmen to go round who knew the science of it or had the experience. Isn’t that so? You must know it better than I do…’

  ‘It was that, I suppose. And also there was no rivalry – Boulton & Watt against anti-Boulton & Watt. Whatever the reason, things fell apart for a while, I know.’

  ‘But it didn’t stop invention, did it. People went on experimenting. Of course the basis of the biggest adv
ance lies in the high-pressure boiler and the new ideas incorporated in that; but there are others. Much of the advance lies in the accuracy of the manufacturing.’

  ‘Which Harvey’s seem confident of achieving.’

  ‘Yes … Oh, yes. My – this engine for Wheal Leisure is not so different from others they have recently made; but as you will have seen from the measurements, it is much smaller than that at Grace. Yet you’ll find it more powerful and much cheaper to run.’

  Ross handed one of the carrying candlesticks to Jeremy. He thought of saying more but decided not.

  ‘I wonder how your mother and Clowance are faring.’

  ‘Very well, I should guess.’

  ‘So should I,’ said Ross.

  In a state of embattled but increasing amity the two men climbed the stairs to bed.

  II

  On Saturday in a discussion that lasted from eleven till one it was decided to proceed with the engine designed by the chief venturer’s son. Afterwards dinner was taken – a purely masculine meal – and then Mr Henry Harvey and Mr William West set off on their long ride home. Three times the following week the chief venturer’s son rode to Hayle, twice with Horrie Treneglos as companion, the last time with Paul and Daisy Kellow.

  There was, of course, nothing whatever to see as yet, and in any event, even when completed, the engine would be shipped piecemeal – by sea given the right weather – and would be totally assembled only on the site. Paul was chiefly interested in the road machine, and Daisy similarly, though there was precious little of this to see either, as Jeremy had warned her on Midsummer Eve. Still, she seemed to find enough to occupy her while Jeremy was deep in discussion with Messrs Harvey, West and Pole.

  As they mounted to return home Daisy said to him: ‘What does it all mean, Jeremy? “A neck joint to be made with a dovetail spigot and socket and iron cement?” Is that not what I heard you say?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Daisy. I told you it was all very tedious.’

  ‘Yes, but what did it mean?’

  ‘Mr West believes that such heating tubes may sometimes crack but will never burst. Is that not of sufficient importance?’

  She lowered her eyes. ‘I’m sorry if I am tedious to you asking such stupid questions.’

  ‘You could never be tedious.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, glimmering a smile at him, ‘since St John’s Eve you have given me little opportunity to be so.’

  ‘Then it is my concern to be sorry, Daisy, not yours, for I have been so engaged with plans for the mine and for the engine that I have had little time for anything else.’ Which was only true in so far as he had deliberately sought the absorption. He had come so close to seeking the counter-irritant of a love-affair with Daisy. But she was not a girl to be lightly had – or if lightly had not to be lightly discarded – and he had just retained sufficient common sense to perceive that taking another girl on the rebound was not the recipe for a happy marriage.

  Even as it was the relationship was difficult enough; he genuinely liked her and found her good company. One side of him also wanted her. She was an altogether attractive young woman with a lively, challenging, sparkling manner and a pretty figure. He knew he only had to nod. So keeping her at a friendly distance without offending her was a matter of balance and a cause of frustrating self-restraint.

  And all because of a girl who had discarded him and was waiting around to marry someone with money. His father, it seemed, had expected him to take comfort from what he had told him of the Trevanions’ situation. He had found no comfort in it at all. The obstacle between him and Cuby was now greater because it was more assessable. Fundamentally the first objection had been ludicrously and offensively slight. But money was another matter. This was something you could set down on paper and add to or subtract from. To add to golden numbers golden numbers. It was a precise barrier which could precisely, but only in one way, be removed.

  Jeremy saw no way whatsoever of even making a start to remove it. He had never previously felt any special desire to be rich. Of his two projects, the steam carriage would be likely to be years coming to practical fruition – if it ever did. As for the mine, that was a gamble; but unless they struck another Dolcoath it would be unlikely to put him in the category of rich man the Trevanions were looking for.

  And if some miracle should occur, what, as he had said to his father, was the attraction of marrying a girl and into a family that only wanted his money?

  So while he rode home with Daisy and joked with her and allowed a new little flirtation to develop, another part of his mind was allowing itself the brief luxury of thinking of Cuby – brief and seldom consciously permitted because it bred such bitterness and devastation in his heart. And as the day faded and he left Daisy and Paul at Fernmore with a promise that they should meet again on the morrow, so his last hopes, his last pretences faded too. It had to be faced. Life without Cuby Trevanion had to be faced – not for this week or for this year but for good. She was not for him. There must be other girls in the world. Daisy, even. But he could never see Cuby again. It would only tear him apart if he met her again. She was not for him – ever.

  He was home before the sun set, but could not bring himself to go in. He felt so deathly tired and full of a misery and a pain more awful than before. He decided to walk up to Wheal Leisure, since this might for a few minutes take his attention away from himself. To one of the other men …

  His father was there.

  Jeremy’s first instinct was to avoid him, to dodge away so that there was no risk of his own mood being perceived. Somehow his father knew him both too well and not well enough …

  But he checked the impulse. Ross greeted him with a smile and a raised hand and went on with his inspection of the building. Presently Jeremy joined him.

  At least something, Jeremy thought, had come out of this miserable week. That talk, that non-quarrel they had had, had somehow begun to clear the air. For the first time he had been able to see his father as a vulnerable man. Previous to this he had seemed so formidable, secure in his position and in his accomplishments. His father and mother were such a pair – complete within themselves, self-contained, they seemed capable of dealing with any problem or emergency. At that supper talk he was sure his father had pretended a lesser knowledge of the development of the mine engine than he really had. But nevertheless the nature of that pretence – if it was such – and the nature of the whole conversation had suggested … Perhaps his invulnerable father was vulnerable in one respect only – to the feelings and happiness of his children. It was a new thought.

  The house was now up to the second floor. Even in its site on the lower shelf of the cliff it was already showing against the skyline. When it was finished, with its arched door and windows, its sharply canted slate roof and cylindrical brick chimney, it would conform to an architectural tradition that blended use and dignity.

  After a while Ross said: ‘Is something amiss?’

  ‘No…’ This question was just what he had been afraid of.

  ‘I mean – more amiss than usual.’

  Jeremy smiled wryly. ‘No.’

  Ross looked up at the building. ‘She will look somewhat grander than Grace has ever done. When we put up that house we were living hand to mouth in all respects. Seeking, ever seeking copper and never finding it. I was negotiating with the venturers of Wheal Radiant to sell them the engine when we at last found tin. I remember Henshawe’s face, how he looked when he brought those samples to show me…’ He paused. ‘Don’t forget I can have a fellow feeling, Jeremy. I was once in the same boat.’

  ‘What boat?’

  ‘Perhaps I should more properly call it a shipwreck … I mean the boat of loving a woman and losing her.’

  ‘History repeating itself … But you found…’

  ‘Someone better, I know. But it’s hard to think that at the time.’

  Jeremy stirred the rubble with his foot. ‘A pity Captain Henshawe left. He had the keenest eye for a lode.�
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  ‘Oh, and still profits from it. But the offer from Wales was too good. I could not stand in his way.’

  ‘I think Ben will do well.’

  ‘I hope so. It will come different when he has thirty or forty men to see to. There are many like him in the county – eccentrics by nature. It is an aspect of the Cornish temperament.’

  ‘I don’t think I like some aspects of the Cornish temperament.’

  ‘Oh, if it is the aspect I think you’re thinking of, it is not peculiar to Cornwall. Indeed, the further east you go the more pronounced it becomes.’

  Jeremy said: ‘Perhaps it is just human nature I detest.’

  ‘Some parts of it, no doubt.’

  Jeremy said suddenly, roughly: ‘Did Aunt Elizabeth marry your cousin Francis Poldark because he had more money?’

  Ross blinked. This was straight from the shoulder. But he had invited it.

  ‘Her mother was minded that she should marry him. Elizabeth was much influenced by her parents. But also there was the report – or rumour – that I had died of wounds in America. When I returned she and Francis were engaged … It is a very complex subject.’

  ‘All such subjects are, Father.’ Jeremy gave a short laugh. Abruptly he turned away. ‘Ben was a long time making up his mind to accept our offer. I think in the end it was on account of Clowance he took it.’

  Ross frowned. ‘What mystery now?’

  ‘None … You – I expect you know that Ben has always been – well, lost for her.’

  ‘I knew he was fond. Not to that extent.’

  ‘Oh yes. I don’t think he has any hopes, but he may feel that if other things do not work out and by some miracle – miracle for him – she should turn to him, he would have more of a position, be earning money of a sort, be more in step, as it were.’

  After a moment Ross said: ‘God, we are a wry lot.’

  ‘I echo that.’

  As they returned home the sand was soft, recently washed by the tide; their feet crunched in it like walking over new-fallen snow.

  Ross said: ‘Tell me, does Bella indulge in any courtship yet?’

  ‘Only with her guinea pig.’