A New War

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by John G. Cragg


  “My lord,” said Steves. ‘This is most gracious of you. I confess that I didn’t know what would become of me. I most gladly accept –I need no time to think it over.”

  Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. Darling murmured their acceptance as well.

  “Good. Lord David and I will be dining here tonight. Now, I have to go out.”

  Giles’ afternoon was both busy and productive. His meeting with Mr. Edwards started with the good news that his prizes had brought in more money than expected. He was more than happy to oversee the furnishing of Dipton Hall and to make sure that the financial matters went smoothly. He even volunteered to stand as scapegoat should Lady Marianne’s demands run counter to Giles express wishes for restraint and to back Steves up if she should cause any problems. He would furthermore go down to Dipton himself with a Mr. Walters, whom Edwards described as being very good at prescribing furnishings in the latest and most elegant style. He would see to the Dower Cottage and the vicarage at the same time.

  Edwards, however, balked at being involved in the running of the estate. He was rather horrified to learn that Giles had sacked his bailiff, and had no immediate replacement. The problem came to a head when Giles mentioned that he had been in discussion with Miss Moorhouse about draining some common fields and saying that he wanted her to go ahead with the project.

  “Is that wise, Sir Richard? Surely you will want to have your steward look into the project before going ahead.”

  “Yes, but I don’t have any reason to trust the steward. Indeed, I have no one to look after the management of the estate in whom I have any confidence. Miss Moorhouse has very well formed plans for the area. And she has the reputation for being the best farm manager in the county.”

  “Well, if you are sure, Sir Richard, I will arrange for your share of the funds required for the improvements to be made available. But I still do not think it wise.”

  “If you can’t help with a steward or bailiff, I think I might ask Miss Moorhouse if she knows anyone suitable. Indeed, if she would be willing to do it, I would have her supervise anyone who might be able to undertake the tasks. Indeed, I don’t suppose that she would be able to act in those positions herself.”

  “A woman – managing an estate?” Edwards was quite horrified by the idea.

  That was enough to prod Giles, “Indeed, if she is more capable than others, I don’t see why not. I’ll suggest it to her. And authorize improvements to be made at her discretion up to – oh, up to 2000 pounds. I can afford that, can’t I?”

  “Yes, Sir Richard. But I must again point out that I think it is very unwise. But yes, you can afford it. But I must add that if you want to keep adding to your expenditures at the rate you have done today, it would be a good idea to capture some very valuable prizes.”

  Giles laughed. “I might just do that, since my next command is again a frigate. But rest assured, Evans, when I come ashore, I hope to live a quiet country life and expect my holdings to meet my needs fully.”

  It was a tired but contented Richard Giles who finally got to bed that evening. He had written all the letters arising from his activities of the day, he had arranged for the opening and running of Dipton Hall, and had even found Dipton a vicar, and one who it turned out he liked. He knew that once aboard ship, his concerns about Dipton would fade into the background and he would have found it difficult to focus on needed decisions – just as he realized that his concerns about Phoebe had retreated into the background when at Dipton to the extent that he had felt guilty about not being concerned about the crew when Newsome had mentioned them. He did not fall asleep immediately, however, an unusual state of affairs for someone raised in the midshipmen’s birth where sleep had to be snatched whenever it was possible. Instead, Giles found himself thinking about how he had to learn more about managing his estate and hoping that he could find some congenial expert to provide instruction, and wondering if Miss Moorhouse might happen to be that expert.

  Chapter III

  Captain Tobias Bush was feeling sorry for himself. Indeed, he was wallowing in self-pity, and quite enjoying being miserable. He was sitting at ease in the parlor of the Dipton Arms with the remains of a satisfying breakfast in front of him, the sun beaming through the rather distorting glass of the windows, but still he was miserable.

  Not that he didn’t have good reason to feel sorry for himself. Here he was left in the lurch by his friend, indeed his patron, his former captain and a man to whom he was indebted for much of the professional progress and wealth that had come his way. The search for a suitable house had so far come to nothing and his need to find accommodation for his mother and sisters was becoming pressing. And his missing foot itched abominably.

  That brought him to his career. He was a very junior post captain and even with Giles’ influence, if Giles was willing to extend it to Bush, he could hope at most for a small frigate, say a 28. And he had trouble imagining himself as a frigate captain with only one leg and one arm. He certainly could not go aloft and he could not imagine being a frigate captain who did not mount the rigging when a reason for doing so arose. In his present, melancholy state, it did not occur to him that there were many captains who never went aloft. Bush was modeling himself after Giles, who frequently climbed to the masthead.

  Indeed, Bush wasn’t even sure he wanted to go back to sea. His father had used his one small bit of influence to secure Bush a midshipmen’s berth since he could not afford to provide his son with an education suitable for a gentleman. Bush had been an excellent officer, but he had never really liked the sea and he had never relished a fight until he was actually in one. Then he was transformed into quite another man.

  He had thought how pleasant it would be to settle down in some country place and never go to sea again. But that hope was coming to nothing. He and Giles had been exploring the possibility of some suitable place for Bush at the same time they were looking for an estate for Giles himself and they had found nothing. He would have to move into lodgings with his mother and sisters and he didn’t know where to start looking for them. His mother did not want to remain in Harwich and he did not want to live in the only other town he knew at all well, Portsmouth.

  It was not at all what Bush had expected to happen when the time came for him to set up a home on shore. He’d vaguely thought of a modest house in a pleasant village, with a wife, where he could live contentedly on half-pay. Now the idea of a wife ran into the fact that he was a cripple – no one would love him or want to marry him. And his father, in dying, had left him with the responsibility for his mother and two younger sisters.

  His father had been the rector of a poor parish in Harwich. He had had just enough money to take care of his widow if the need should arise and to provide his two daughters with modest dowries, but little more. He had been able, through a third cousin, to secure for his son a midshipman’s birth at age fourteen, thus alleviating the need to pay for Tobias’s education and to set him up in a career. What his father had not counted on was becoming ill with consumption. His imminent death would leave his widow and daughters with inadequate income and no dowries. When a man of his acquaintance had approached the Reverend Bush to participate in a venture that would certainly yield sufficient returns to solve these problems, the naïve cleric had jumped at the opportunity. Unfortunately, the venture had failed, leaving the Reverend Bush’s widow with hardly enough money to pay for his funeral.

  This saga had happened just before Captain Bush returned, injured, from his last voyage. The wife of the new rector in his father’s old parish insisted that Captain Bush’s mother and sisters move out of the rectory immediately. They were at present living in not very comfortable lodgings in Harwich. Furthermore, the new rector’s wife was making life a misery for his mother by constantly criticizing to others how Bush’s father had acted in the parish and how his mother had kept up the rectory. The result was that his mother desperately wanted to leave Harwich. Bush had no idea of how or where he might find a better situation for the
m.

  He would have to go to Harwich soon – but not today. He would stay in Dipton where he didn’t have to do anything right away. With that decided, he summoned the serving man to order another mug of small beer to complete his breakfast. When the servant responded, he handed Bush a letter from Giles that had just arrived.

  Dear Bush:

  I write in haste. The Admiralty has given me a new frigate, Petroclus, a 36 built to an experimental design. I take command of her at Butler’s Hard and then take her out for a mission of some urgency. The Admiralty kept most of the crew of Phoebe together and are letting me have them, together with Phoebe’s warrant and petty officers, but we will still have to get the press gangs out. Poor old Phoebe is being condemned. I’ve got Davis and Miller as Lieutenants and a John Foster as first lieutenant. I don’t know him; his last ship was Thunderer. There will also be a fellow from the Ordnance Board to begin with to look into the effectiveness of our cannon. We are supposed to drop him in Falmouth before proceeding with our mission. That will be in three weeks, I hope.

  I am sorry to have left you in the lurch so suddenly.

  Bush reflected guiltily that Giles had not left him in the lurch at all. Instead, he had invited him to come to London on the way to Harwich, but Bush, still aching from his riding experience, had stated that he preferred to spend some more time at Dipton. The truth was that not having found a place for them, Bush was delaying seeing his mother and sisters. He returned to the letter;

  I have been thinking about the arrangements at Dipton. As you know, I intended to have my sister Marianne and my two nieces live in the Dower Cottage. But I realize that Marianne is bound to spend out of control if she has her own establishment. Instead, I will have them live in Dipton Hall with me. Even when I am away, my butler – I’ve retained my father’s London butler, Steves – and he and Edwards should be able to keep control of things. But having thought of having Marianne at the Hall, I realized that the Dower Cottage would be ideal for you and your mother. It strikes me as being very much the sort of thing you have been looking for. And you would be doing me a great favor if you would take it. It would be a comfort to know that Marianne could count on my good friend if some troubles arose.

  Bush warmed to Giles’ referring to him as his good friend even more than he had to the offer of the cottage,

  While my brother David is going to be vicar of Dipton, he is very young and I am not sure how he would stand up to the sort of challenge that Marianne might pose. Actually, if you could live at Dipton until you get a command, you would undoubtedly be able to give David good advice on any problems that he faces, for he too will be alone there and he is totally inexperienced.

  Edwards will be going down to Dipton on Monday with someone who is an expert on furnishings and houses. I have asked him to consider the Dower Cottage as well. If you should take up my invitation, he can undoubtedly help in setting the cottage up. I think that Edwards also has some good news for you.

  I do hope you will take up my offer. Next to having you with me on Petroclus, there is nothing I would like better than to have you as a neighbor at Dipton when I am ashore. It’s a pity you got promoted! I could use a really good first lieutenant.

  I remain your good friend,

  Giles

  The penultimate remark amused Bush. He was sure that the only reason he had been promoted was the very firm advocacy of Giles himself.

  The offer of the house would appear to solve all his problems. Of course, Giles hadn’t mentioned the rent, but Edwards would know what it would be and Giles wouldn’t make the offer if he wasn’t certain that it was within Bush’s means. The offer of the cottage was actually quite exciting.

  Bush glanced at his almost full tankard of beer. He didn’t want it any more. Instead, he was thinking of what arrangements he would need to make about the Dower Cottage. He had only seen it at a distance, and he didn’t think Giles had seen it either. Giles had been concentrating on Dipton Hall: what it needed and how to get servants. It sounded as if he had both problems well in hand and was letting Bush piggy-back on those solutions.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Bush saw someone outside peering in the window, but couldn’t make out the features against the light. Minutes later Daphne Moorhouse burst into the room.

  “Oh, Captain Bush…” Daphne stopped as Bush struggled to his feet to bow. Remembering that she should have curtseyed first, she rectified the omission before ordering, “Don’t get up.”

  “I’m not a total cripple, Miss Moorhouse,” Bush replied testily, after he had bowed, “and the more times I do normal things, the easier they will become.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that you cannot do anything that is usual.

  “I have received a letter from Captain Giles. He mentioned that he has invited you to take over the Dipton Dower Cottage. I do hope that you do. Father thoroughly enjoyed talking with you on Sunday. There is no one around here with whom he can discuss his passion – I am afraid that I can’t keep any of those old generals and battles straight in my mind -- and the gentlemen around here can’t tell the difference between Themistocles and Thermopylae. So we would really like you to settle here.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Miss Moorhouse, but surely Captain Giles didn’t write just to tell you that.”

  “No. The real reason was that he wants to go ahead with the drainage of the joint fields that we were supposed to look at before he had to rush away. That’s what I am so excited about. To do it properly really requires doing the drainage on both properties. I was so afraid that Captain Giles’s having to go away meant that it would not get done, at least not soon, since he didn’t have a chance to inspect the area closely himself. Captain Giles says that a Mr. …” Daphne fumbled in her reticule to try to extract Giles’ letter. “Mr. Edwards, his prize agent, will be coming to Dipton on Monday and will arrange that Dipton Hall’s share of the drainage will be paid for. But I am to be in charge completely. Oh, it’s so exciting! But why is Captain Giles’s prize agent coming?”

  “Mr. Edwards is also Captain Giles’s man of business as well mine. I am surprised he is coming himself rather than sending one of his junior associates. Captain Giles must have given him some important commissions – of course, one of them must be your drainage project. But there is a great deal more probably in arranging for the Hall and also there may be some provisions to be made for Lord David, Captain Giles’ brother.”

  “Yes, Captain Giles mentioned that his brother would become vicar here. What he actually wrote was, ‘Tell your father that there will be a new vicar at Dipton, but since it is his first parish, I cannot guarantee that this vicar will really be an improvement over the parson who has been handling the services at Dipton. But since he is my brother, I must hope for the best from him.’ Well, he can’t be worse than Mr. Twilgate.

  “Have you seen the Dower Cottage, Captain Bush?”

  “Only from the road, and even then I only got a glimpse of it. Until I received Giles’ letter a few minutes ago, I had no reason to be interested in it.”

  “I have never been in it. It hasn’t been let for the last few years, and my father developed an intense dislike for the previous tenants and forbade me to have anything to do with them. Would you like to explore it with me now? That is, if you…” Daphne paused, before she blurted out what she was going to say: “if you can walk that far”, a statement that would likely be seen as even more insulting than the suggestion that Bush should not rise when she entered the room. Instead, Daphne continued, “… if you think there is any chance that you would like to live in this neighborhood.”

  Bush indeed wondered whether he could walk the few hundred yards that separated the inn from the Dower Cottage – and then walk back again. His leg had been troubling him and even short walks made the stump of his leg sore and inflamed. However, his previous ill-tempered remark made him reluctant to suggest that he was physically not able to make such a short journey.

  “I’d like to s
ee the cottage, indeed I would. But can we get into it on the spur of the moment?” Bush felt he had overcome his dilemma rather well, but that satisfaction was short-lived.

  “I know that Tom, the innkeeper, has a key, kept from the times when Mr. Charles Gramley hoped to rent the cottage while he did not want to trouble himself to show the house.”

  At that moment, the innkeeper entered the room, intending to ask if Miss Moorhouse would like some refreshment. But before he could ask, Daphne addressed him: “Tom, do you have the key to the Dower Cottage?”

  “Yes, Miss, I do.”

  “Well, Captain Giles has asked Captain Bush to stay in the Dower Cottage with his family and he would like to see it. Could we have the key, please?”

  “Certainly, Miss. I’ll just get it.”

  Within minutes, Bush was on his feet, hat on his head, and stout stick in his hand.

  It was only a short distance to the Dower Cottage, which was partially hidden from the road by shrubs and trees. When they turned into the drive leading to the establishment, Bush was confronted with a large and elegant house in the style of 80 years previously in red brick with white trim and cornices. It featured large windows on the ground and first floors. It was also notable for an imposing main entrance. The unkempt grounds spoke of long neglect.

  “I had no idea the Dower Cottage was so large,” Bush exclaimed.

  “Yes, it really isn’t a cottage at all, though that is what everyone calls it,” responded Daphne. “I have heard that Mr. Gramley’s grandfather inherited the estate when he was quite young. His father had married a second time, and his second wife had borne him several children. Mr. Thomas, for that was the Mr. Charles’s grandfather’s name, or rather more likely Mr. Thomas’s wife, had no desire to share the Hall with his father’s second family, and so he built this house to accommodate them. Since there was a large number of children, he had to provide a much larger house than would be the case if it were just his step-mother who had to be housed. Hence, while tradition makes the appropriate name ‘the Dower Cottage’, in fact it is quite a substantial house. There should be plenty of space for your mother and two sisters as well as yourself.”

 

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