If the man was a traitor then he could legitimately be ignored, and the Americans, almost unanimously, did just that, much to his annoyance.
Bradburn made arrests of those he regarded as leaders among the Americans and then proceeded to ignore demands made by the incomers for ‘due process’.
“He done said they ain’t got no Bill of Rights in Mexico. Would you ever believe such a thing?”
Luke could believe that very easily, there being no direct equivalent to the Bill of Rights in England, or that he could remember hearing of in the Ottoman Empire.
The more easily outraged among the settlers called the Americans to arms; they then discovered the Mexicans to be at least as well armed as they were and with the potential to massively outnumber them when they brought forces up from the south.
“We needs an army, Mr Star!”
“I have access to some artillery, sir – light cannons and naval guns, mostly.”
“Set them up around thet so-called fort of Bradburn’s, see just how fierce he gets then, suh.”
Luke sent a message back to New Orleans, requesting the eighteen pound cannonades and substantial quantities of powder and particularly of ball. They had grape shot and canister but had seen little use for roundshot. They settled down to wait, Luke smiling in the friendliest and most hopeful fashion at a number of the unattached local young ladies and discovering that their habits were very different to those of the Greeks. Stavros was never far from his side, his close comrade in arms.
“What is to be done about slaves, Lukas?”
“A good question, Stavros – are there any here?”
“A handful, but the Mexicans say that the institution is illegal here. The owners say that they are ‘on loan’ from their own places in Louisiana and Mississippi and so are not covered by Mexican laws, which are not valid on the empresario’s lands in any case.”
“So, we are to fight for slavery, you tell me?”
Stavros shrugged, fingering the knife in his belt.
“Mr Star? Mr Henry Star of Freemans?”
The English voice sounded very enthusiastic, as if meeting Henry Star had been his life’s ambition, now brought to a wonderful fruition. It was an open, ingenuous, happy voice; Henry distrusted any man who could sound as honest and friendly as that.
“I am delighted to meet you, Mr Star!”
Henry discovered that his hand was being vigorously shaken. He stared at the rat-faced young man who was showing such delight; he was sure he had never seen him before and could detect no family resemblance in him to any of his acquaintance.
“Since first I have come to New Orleans men I respect have been telling me that I should renew my family’s acquaintance with the leading light of the Star family!”
Henry retrieved his hand, wiped the sweat from it with his pocket-handkerchief and peered again at the young English gentleman. In his twenties, perhaps as much as thirty years of age; his hair was thinning and there was a gap in his teeth. There was a sparkle of feral intelligence in the brown eyes and the forehead, though receding, was high. He still could not put a name to him.
“Thomas Clapperley, Mr Star, eldest son and heir to Sir Erasmus Clapperley, Bart, of Lancashire and long associate of Lord Andrews and Lord Star.”
The weasel lawyer, Clapperley! And this was his son, and an unprepossessing specimen of humanity too.
Henry had had almost no personal contact with Clapperley, but he had heard stories about him and his father had never hesitated to express his contempt for him. That said, Clapperley had been useful to the family – there was always a place for a bent lawyer – and the son gave every impression of following in his father’s footsteps.
“I am pleased to meet you, Mr Clapperley,” Henry lied. “Have you been in New Orleans for very long?”
“Nearly a week, Mr Star. I am on a tour of the States, seeking investment opportunities as much as anything, and naturally came here to see the home of the riverboat.”
“Of course, and my yard is still among the greatest. I have been considering the railroad in recent months, Mr Clapperley – no doubt that has come to your attention as well.”
It had, as must be the case for any forward thinking man, but Mr Clapperley was more interested in the prospects of taking up vast landholdings in the new lands to the west. There was a possibility of running great herds of beef, and the process of preserving beef in tins was improving every year. Food was in short supply in England, as everybody knew.
“An intriguing prospect, indeed, Mr Clapperley, but those lands to the west are in the hands of the Mexicans at the moment and they are growing increasing hostile to American interests there.”
Mr Clapperley had heard that to be the case and he had investigated some of the possibilities relating to that conflict. To cut a long story short, he had been able to make contact with various merchants in the northern part of the States, a number of whom were in possession of cannon of various dimensions and origin. He had first refusal upon them, was Mr Star in the market?
“What exactly have you laid hands on, Mr Clapperley? Best that you should sit down in my office with me, sir.”
The bulk were naval great guns, recovered from the breakers, and requiring military carriages – not too difficult to manufacture in a land where timber was readily available.
“Twenty-four, eighteen and twelve pounders mostly, Mr Star. Siege guns and useful for the defence of strongholds – and in short supply otherwise.”
The most important question had to be price, and then the raising of the necessary funds – Henry was not prepared to dig into his own pockets for the whole cost of an artillery park.
He made a tentative agreement with Mr Clapperley to attempt the purchase of the cannon, all to be dependent on his ability to excite interest among other men of affairs in the South.
There was a general sympathy for the settlers in Texas, coupled with a desire to create another slave state and the feeling that the whole of North America must be the domain of the English-speaking peoples. The state legislature was willing to sanction military aid to the Texicans and even to provide a small amount of cash for the purpose and the Governor was willing to lend his name to an appeal for money. A public meeting was decided upon.
Henry stood in front of the mass of the moneyed and the good of New Orleans, called for aid for the oppressed and pointed out that his brother, renowned for his service against the oppressive Ottomans, had lent his services to the American cause, outraged by the infamies of the Mexicans. Henry called for money for the purchase of great guns for the settlers’ defence and pledged himself to the tune of fifty thousand dollars. It was a huge sum and drew a round of applause in its own right – that amount of money must be treated with respect.
Mr Deevers of the Cotton Bank stood next, swearing to himself that he had volunteered to speak second. He had had every intention of committing one hundred dollars to the cause but now was trapped into much more; he could imagine the roar of laughter that would ensue if he pledged a miserable one hundred. He promised ten thousand of his own and told the crowd that the Bank’s board was to meet next day to consider the matter.
The meeting ended in much self-congratulation and singing of patriotic songs. Henry’s chief clerk who had sat at a desk to the side was in a state of panic, surrounded by buckets containing bank notes and promises and gold and silver coinage, begging for guards and assistants to count the thousands he had been given.
“Well, Mr Clapperley? Have you sent your letters north yet, sir?”
“Twelve of twenty-four pound barrels, sir, and as many of eighteen. Sixty twelve pounders, sir, they being mounted in the sloops and brigs of war of which there were a far greater number. I have an offer as well of six pound field guns and their limbers and caissons, sir, ex-army, they no longer using the smaller cannon. All iron guns, of course, and coming in at a remarkably low price…”
Clapperley had still not made his mind up about his own mark-up; he had bought t
he barrels in at scrap-metal price of around a cent a pound and decided now that ten thousand percent might be a fair profit.
“One hundred and fifty dollars, sir, for a twenty-four, plus cost of shipping; one hundred twenty for the eighteens and a mere seventy-five for a twelve pounder, sir.”
“A smidgen less than eight thousand, plus shipping costs, Mr Clapperley. I think we can go to that. Ball and canister shot can best be purchased in England, it seems, and I have sent an urgent order there. Powder can be imported or bought from the mill in Tennessee or from that in New York State and I have made my orders already. Gun carriages are a problem, because the builders and wheelwrights wish to see the barrels and build to them – a matter of balance, it seems.”
Clapperley was swearing to himself; Henry Star had agreed so easily that he must have expected a far higher price.
“The field guns, sir?”
“How many?”
“Four batteries of six, sir, all that remain in service.”
“Negotiate a price, if you can, Mr Clapperley.”
Henry noted the prices of the guns and added one hundred per cent for himself, more from habit than from greed; he intended to make his profit on the supply of powder and of serge cartridges and percussion caps and the multitude of oddments that artillery demanded. The carriages were too large, too visible – ordinary people would want to know how much they cost and would be reassured when they discovered them to have come in at a very low price indeed.
He sat down that evening to address a letter to the Secretary of the Navy, pointing out the increase in Mexican activity in the Gulf, and deploring their increasing habit of stopping and searching merchantmen going about their lawful occasions. He carefully did not specify the action to be taken and made no reference to the upcoming Presidential elections.
That done, he called his clerk to him and informed him that he should take charge of the fund for the while.
“I am off upriver tomorrow, Pierre, and will not be back for a month. I must give my lady wife the pleasure of my company for a while, she being in a delicate condition, as you know.”
“What of Mr Clapperley, sir? I believe that he will be back within a short while to discuss the field artillery batteries.”
“Suggest to him that he should bring them down here for inspection, Pierre.”
The clerk was familiar with Henry’s habits; it seemed to him that Mr Clapperley - who must buy the guns before he could ship them to New Orleans - was about to be very thoroughly fleeced.
Henry visited his manager and deputy, Mitch, before setting out to the plantation.
“All well, Mitch?”
“Very well, Ti Henry. Imports of sulphur for the powder mill are well in hand, and the supply of local saltpetre from the caves is established, though the quantities are as yet uncertain. Charcoal burning is arranged, contracts tied in. The mill in Tennessee will run very profitably. Importation of French brandy – best quality – is very profitable, as is whiskey and gin from our distillery in New York State. Rifles from Birmingham, England are due to arrive next month. I have established a workshop to produce our own best-quality furniture, copying the French designs we see imported. Our own local hardwoods together with mahoganies imported from Venezuela and the Guianas make for a much less expensive product. The boatyard is still highly profitable, of course. The enterprises on the Red River are starting to turn in results, but will be some years in becoming worthwhile. I have sent men to claim land there, more for future speculation than for current profit.”
“Excellent! As I expected, of course. You have seen to your own house, I trust?”
“Built and soon to be occupied, Ti Henry. My thanks.”
“Good work deserves high rewards, Mitch.”
Henry was in expansive mood – the world was in fine shape and profits were growing.
“Wagon works, Mitch – the spread of settlers west will demand the production of any number of ox-wagons and four or six horse drays and covered carts. Best to establish down here or higher up the river would you say?”
“Timber is available in better qualities and quantity to the north, Ti Henry. As far north as St Louis, perhaps. If not then Natchez will do very well. On that topic, I have made contact with breeders up coast in Kentucky and Virginia and Maryland; we are talking of substantial cash investments to build up heavy horse studs and breed mules as well. It’s a longer term sort of business – we are looking at decades here – but we could be well established in money making concerns.”
“Do it, Mitch. Having children makes a man think about the future. You should give that matter some consideration!”
“Soon, Ti Henry – I am starting to look about me, particularly now that I have that enormous house.”
Grace was delighted to welcome Henry home, had not expected him for a few weeks longer.
“Almost losing my family made me even less willing to stay away, ma’am! Have Marcus and Joseph recovered from the experience?”
“Mostly, sir. Marcus still sometimes wakes crying in the night, but he is a sensitive lad. Joseph is more robust, but he has said that he has no desire ever to go to sea again!”
“I share his feeling – I am in no hurry to return to England ever again.”
“Nor me, husband. I suspect that Mr Luke Star, and that rather strange man, Mr Stavros, feel the same.”
“’Strange’, my dear?”
Grace could not put her feelings into words, but she had suspicions of Mr Stavros and she did not know why. He felt ‘wrong’ she said, asking Henry whether he had ever read Chaucer.
He said that he had, under much pressure from a tutor, but rendered into modern English, not the original.
“’The smiler with the knife under his cloak’, sir – words that come to my mind when I think of Mr Stavros – probably most unfairly to the poor man. Without his aid I suspect we might all have perished; it is ungenerous in the extreme to malign the gentleman.”
“True, but I trust your judgement, ma’am. When next I see brother Luke I shall whisper in his ear.”
She was pleased to be treated with such respect, but still had doubts that she might be condemning the innocent.
“What of the plantation, ma’am?”
“Profitable, but it would be difficult not to be at the present price of cotton. I am much inclined to suggest that we should use the profits elsewhere, sir.”
“Why so, ma’am? I would add that I am doing just that, but I wonder if I am acting for the same reasons as you.”
“Slavery, sir. It cannot last for many more years and when it goes it may be impossible to grow cotton at a profit. It may survive our lifetimes, but while we were in England I noticed just how much the ordinary people there despised the institution, although, of course, their great textiles industry lives off its back. In the end it must go, because it is morally wrong.”
“It will go, and I suspect we shall live to see its end. We should, as you say, invest in other industries and in other places. I am considering the steam railroad as well as other new ventures.”
“I am told of great wheat farms in Canada, on their prairie lands…”
“I had not thought of investing outside of the States – but, of course, as a member of the Star family I must be most welcome there. What an excellent idea, my dear – why keep all of our eggs in one basket?”
Mr White stood back with justifiable pride, having just laid the last shingle on the chapel roof with his own hand. Their own House of God was now built and men handy with saws and timber were even now emplacing the long pews, sufficient for every adult of the settlement to sit and kneel in worship.
“We need only our own pastor to lead us now, Mrs White, and Andrewstown will finally be complete. I have wondered sometimes whether I am not called to this pulpit…”
“A noble ambition, husband, but two sons and three daughters, and more yet, I doubt not, also make demands upon you. The forge and the livery and the wagon-works provide them with a goo
d living now, and a future, especially with the share in the heavy horses bred at the Widow Oliver’s farm.”
“Poor lady! I often think back, wonder if I might not have done more for her sadly driven husband.”
Mrs White’s memory was of a rather nasty man they were well rid of, but her husband had an unthinkingly tender heart for his fellow sufferers.
“Our sons will need our help for many years. Education is available for all in America, husband, if one can pay for it, and they might wish to read at a university. They could become doctors, or train for the ministry, or learn engineering to work with steam engines – but we will need the funds to pay their way. Our daughters will also call for some money from our purse, though they will not go away to be educated, of course. I do not believe the village could find any substantial stipend for our own reverend gentleman, sir.”
It was a strong argument – any man’s first duty must lie towards his family. No matter how his heart pulled him, he must make enough money for their needs.
“Will Edward go to University, do you think, Mrs White?”
Her eldest-born was a big, strong, happy lad, a smile for everyone. At age eleven he had his letters but sat on the school bench with increasing reluctance; the academic life was not for him.
“No, sir, I fear not. In fact, he might be better off to stand beside you at the forge, hammer in his hand. I think he might well be happier thus.”
“You are right at that, Mrs White. I have little doubt that he will make a blacksmith, but I might not wish to be a patient of his should he become a doctor!”
They asked him when he came home from school, leading his sister by the hand and watching his brother run ahead of him. The two youngest girls were still at home, just starting their alphabet.
He put his school book down, donated his slate to his brother and announced his happiness never to return to the classroom – he would join his father at six o’clock in the morning. He had watched his father, had long intended to stand beside him; now his wishes had come true, two years at least before he could have hoped.
Virtue’s Reward (A Poor Man at the Gate Series, Book 11) Page 7