“What of the summer, Papa? Will you join the fashionable set in Brighton?”
“How have you heard of Brighton, young man? No! The Prince is to be found there, and so I am not. The plan is to go to the North Country, to the land of coal and iron and steam engines, to see just what these ‘manufacturies’ are all about. I hope I might find that interesting.”
“I think you must, sir!”
Frederick noticed the yearning in Iain’s voice, spoke to Elizabeth later.
“We could take the three with us, my dear. To Leeds first, and to meet with your Kearton cousins and then perhaps to cross the country as far as Liverpool, where there are said to be steamboats, or plans for them at least, then slowly back to the south. We might return to London for a week or two and do some shopping- the children would perhaps enjoy that for a few days. The sight of a big bookshop must fascinate them! I am quite sure that Iain wishes to see the new world of the North. I certainly do.”
The plan was formed. The family would join them in mid-May and they would take easy stages up the Great North Road until they reached Leeds and then would spend some days inspecting the town and its new enterprises. After that, they would travel as the whim, and local advice, took them.
“Kavanagh may ride in advance and see to rooms and change of horses – that will ensure our comfort.”
“He will no doubt travel to Abbey to escort the children to us, Frederick.”
“Perhaps. I am more inclined to send Olsen. The task will show him that I have faith in him, that he is a man who can be trusted; as well, I might wish him to become closer to Iain, to become his confidential man. I shall, I think, leave Bosomtwi at Long Common during the Season, calling him to London to join us on the road north. He needs time with his own family.”
“When we return to London, Frederick, will your shopping expeditions take you as far as the Admiralty?”
He had the grace to look shame-faced as he admitted that he might well wish to make his number with the First Lord, just to be seen, and to show that he was rapidly recovering, was not in any way disabled.
Book Twelve: The Duty
and Destiny Series
Chapter Two
The Kearton cousins had risen in the world since Elizabeth had last met them in their homes. She had then been Miss Hackett, daughter to an insignificant gentleman of Leeds, and they had been yeoman farmers, owning their own land and selling a few hundreds of pounds worth of coal from an outcropping on their pastures. She was now Lady Harris, wife to a baronet who was a household name, at intervals, for his naval successes. They were still no more than the Messrs Kearton, but had incomes that derived from one of the largest pits in Yorkshire; the two brothers were reputed to share over twenty thousand pounds a year, and Mr Hackett, now Lord Partington, who had inherited ten per cent through his mother, was certainly receiving more than two thousands.
Only one of the brothers had married, and he had built a ‘dwelling’ for his family, leaving the bachelor at his disreputable leisure in the respectable old farmhouse. The new Kearton house was a manor of thirty bedrooms and with stables and outbuildings in proportion; it was a statement of wealth, an announcement that Mr Kearton was richer than any of the local squires. His eldest son had learnt to be a gentleman; the second boy managed the pit; the third was a midshipman and had been under Frederick’s command, still enjoyed his patronage and would be a lieutenant and then master and commander in very short order. Post-captaincy would be less easy to arrange, but Frederick was fairly sure that it could be done, now that he was so well off for friends in high places.
A few years previously it had seemed undesirable that the Harrises should pay any prolonged visit to the Keartons – their places in the world were too far apart – but it was now entirely reasonable that they should stay a week in the manor house, gentlefolk together.
Mr Kearton had risen in the world, and wished to obtain recognition of that fact, and preferably more than a knighthood. He had employed a tutor for himself and his whole family and had sent the youngest boy off to school, the other pair too much grown for the experience. They spoke now in careful King’s English, never reverting to the Yorkshire they had grown up with. Father and eldest son greeted Frederick with careful courtesy.
“We were so upset to hear of your injury, Sir Frederick! I see that you have to a great extent recovered your animal spirits now, sir.”
Frederick responded, very properly.
“As much as ever one can, Mr Kearton. I still find myself irritated on occasion when I go to pick up a coffee cup with the left hand – but I shall grow used to it, in time. This is a very fine house, Mr Kearton! There is much to be said for a modern mansion with all of its conveniences, sir. My Abbey is a fine great place – you must come and see it one day – but it is old and made up of additions and extensions over the space of five hundred years. I love my house dearly, but at least once a fortnight I swear in exasperation to pull it down and build all anew. I shall never do so – instead, I shall probably build on a new wing, and add to the maze!”
Mr Kearton was proud of his house; there was no quicker way to his heart than to praise it.
“Built to my own plans, Sir Frederick – though much amended by the architect I hired on, I must admit. Within sight of the coal mine as well, so that we may not forget where our present-day comfort derives from.”
“Wise indeed, sir! I have never seen a coal mine, you know, Mr Kearton. Bearing in mind that I cannot climb down ladders, is it practical for me to visit the workings?”
Mr Kearton shook his head; a man must be whole and hale to go down the mines, he feared.
“Your biggest lad could, Sir Frederick. Master Iain seems a fit and strong young chap. What is he, twelve now?”
“Rising fourteen, Mr Kearton. Like me, he will never be a tall man. I will ask him if he might wish to go underground.”
Iain knew that his father had it in mind to invest in coal, and possibly in iron; he conceived it to be his duty to go down the mine and to report back on all that he might see.
“Very black, Papa, and dirty – which is hardly surprising, sir. It is noisy as well, voices echoing and the seams themselves seeming to creak and groan. There are many people working, sir, often whole families together and including children far younger than me. The pit smells, of people, but also of sulphur and other chemicals. The people work very hard, cutting coal and shovelling it back to the little wheelbarrows which take it to the big lift to be heaved above ground. The lift, sir, is powered by a steam engine – and that is a wonderful machine, sir! Young Mr Kearton, who is manager and showed me round, sir, and who dearly loves steam, said that there are already machines being made to achieve locomotion, although not yet very successful. He thinks, sir, that they will work at sea first.”
Frederick nodded gravely; he had suspected as much.
“Could we use a steam engine at Abbey?”
“Not really, sir. Not yet. We could thresh the wheat by steam rather than by flails, and perhaps make a chaff cutter, and another to slice turnips for winter feed, but I think it would lie idle for much of the year. I do think though, Papa, that you might consider investing in a manufactury that made steam engines. I am sure that in time it would be very profitable.”
Frederick was impressed, said that he would bear Iain’s advice in mind.
“Mr Kearton tells me that he can arrange for us to visit at a modern foundry, where iron is made in hundreds of tons each week. I certainly wish to see that. Will you come?”
Iain would be delighted to do so. He took himself off to tell his step-mother of all that he had done, was intercepted by Mr Kearton’s youngest, a girl of about eleven, Frederick thought, who wished to discuss his day with him. She knew much about steam engines, and had a book about them. Iain allowed himself to be led away, unaware of the quiet grins on the faces of his seniors behind him.
“Looks as if we must make a few more visits over the years, Mr Kearton!”
“It seems so indeed, Sir Frederick! You have no objection?”
“None at all, sir. If anything should arise from their acquaintance, well, I can see much of good for both families. If not, no harm done.”
“Agreed, Sir Frederick. Will you take a visit into Leeds while you are here? The Assembly takes place later in the week, and although you do not dance yet, you will be very welcome.”
Frederick was quick to assent – he was sure that his lady would be delighted at the opportunity to take to the floor, and he would no doubt find people to talk to.
“Full uniform, I presume, Mr Kearton?”
A post-captain in all of his glory would be a rare sight in an inland town such as Leeds, would draw all eyes, particularly the knowing ones who would spot the Naval Gold Medal – even in its smaller form – and realise the distinction it conveyed.
“The Diamond as well, my dear?”
The Ottoman distinction was, she suspected, a little too much of a good thing, so large as to smack of vulgarity. On second thoughts, she urged him to wear it, as he would be in the company of any number of iron- and wool-masters, men to whom vulgarity was a way of existence, she feared.
“They may not be certain of the significance of gold lace, Frederick, but they know a massive great diamond when they see one!”
Frederick remembered then that soon after their marriage she had expressed herself very forcefully on the topic of self-made men and the nouveau-riche, and their overbearing wives. Miss Hackett, genteel but poor, had been the target of any number of sneers, he recalled; no doubt she would enjoy, very genteelly, returning some of them.
“A pity that Iain is too young for assemblies. He would learn much, I doubt not. However, he will be able to attend within a couple of years. It will be good for him. I expect him to visit quite frequently, now that he has discovered steam. The Keartons will, undoubtedly, wish to be seen at Abbey, which I am much in favour of.”
Frederick sat down with his host next day, secluded in his study.
“I have done rather well for prize-money, Mr Kearton, making a number of captures this last year or two. It seems to me wiser to put money into this new ‘industry’, rather than to buy more land. I do not know if you agree? A potential coal mine, for example, might be a handy thing to possess.”
Mr Kearton agreed; he had, himself, he said, recently put money into a hillside full of coal seams and not so far from a new canal a few miles out of Leeds. He intended as well to chase up a prospect nearer to Sheffield, where there was a deposit of iron as well as coal close to hand. He had received the true word from a surveyor of his acquaintance, who had found coal on one farm and iron on another, the two owners each unaware of the other.
“Thing is, Sir Frederick, that I have funds to make the purchases, easily as well, but not sufficient to start mining and smelting iron too. I do not wish to sell coal and ore to a competitor – better far to keep all in my hands. Borrowing from a bank ain’t on, either – they won’t lend to iron-masters, outside of their knowledge! They had rather lend ten thousand at five per cent to a farmer, than twenty at ten per cent to me! Lunatic!”
“Twenty thousand, you say, Mr Kearton?”
“Thirty, if you have it, Sir Frederick, and for that, you take fifty per cent of the business, plus one share to give you the majority holding. No income for two years, probably three, and then your cut of the profits, which will be more than ten per cent, I assure you.”
Frederick had sat with Mr Hartley, his agent, for many hours, discussing investments and earnings, and concluding that coal was the future, but needed knowledge that he did not possess.
“If I was to say, ‘no income for ten years’, Mr Kearton, what then?”
“Then we could double in size, very easily, Sir Frederick, by reinvesting the profits, and perhaps set up into steel and produce sharp blades – knives and scissors – which make good money. Ten years from now and we could be talking about ten thousand a year apiece, possibly more.”
Frederick offered his hand.
“Draw up papers and send them to my man, Mr Kearton, and I shall place the money in your bank, sir!”
They shook on the deal, Frederick more than satisfied that he had done his best for his progeny.
The day of the Assembly arrived and Elizabeth dressed in her latest and most fashionable London wear, suspecting that very few of those present would have been seen in the Season, but that all of the womenfolk would have studied the various ‘Ladies’ Books’ that appeared quarterly with drawings and sketches of the latest modes. She would stun them all by her quiet elegance, she decided, and with the odd ruby as well, and perhaps a sapphire or two.
She entered the Rooms, on Frederick’s arm and in front of Mr Kearton and his wife, as their rank demanded, and smiled at the Master of Ceremonies as he established their provenance. Mr Kearton, well-known, gave their names as his relatives, and hence entitled to enter.
“I am much afraid, sir, that I am as yet unable to dance,” Frederick informed the gentleman, “but I am sure that Lady Harris will delight in so doing.”
The word was whispered around the company – squires of the County, leading gentlemen of the town and an increasing number of wealthy local businessmen – that they were honoured by the presence of a baronet and renowned naval officer. Three of the squires possessed titles, as did the late Mayor of the town, but all were knighthoods; Frederick had the only hereditary honour. They were delighted to rub shoulders with a national figure, a man whose name was known to all who had read a newspaper in the past year, and to speak to his lady, who was so remarkably well-dressed and had already drawn every female eye.
Frederick resigned himself to an evening of suffering the conversation of every gentleman who wished to rise in the world and as well wanted to mention to their less-fortunate acquaintance that they ‘knew’ Captain Sir Frederick Harris, bart. He had come to the Assembly for the good it would do the Keartons to be known as his relations; he smiled his best and took a seat as soon as it was offered. Those who knew him to have been recently wounded made much of explaining the fact to lesser mortals.
A long evening, and one that tried his patience, but worthwhile, he suspected, for he much wanted Mr Kearton to be a good friend in the future. Iain would gain much during his lifetime from the Keartons, and particularly from their access to the new industry and its bottomless wealth.
It was nonetheless tedious explaining that the ‘wicked republican reds of France’ did not actually have tails or carry little tridents, and that they were led by an Emperor who had more absolute power than any King of England had wielded in half a millennium. He did not know much about the evils of Trades Unions, but he was inclined to doubt that their leaders were disguised Frenchmen; however, it was simpler to smile and nod than to argue with the gentlemen and their ladies who were absolutely certain of such matters. He was a little surprised to be congratulated on the sensible discipline of the Navy – a thousand lashes a day to every mill-hand who forgot his place would be wonderful medicine, one gentleman suggested.
By the end of the evening Frederick was inclined to wonder whether he was right to consider becoming part of the community of manufacturers. They were not, he was convinced, natural gentlemen. They were attractively wealthy, however, even if they were a little too much inclined to harp on about their wealth for his taste. His Ottoman diamond was subjected to very close inspection by several of those who became acquainted with him over the night.
“How much did that set you back, lad? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
“It is a decoration awarded by the Ottomans for service against the French who had conquered one of their islands, sir.”
“Ah! Foreign, is it? If you want to flog it any time, Sir Frederick, just you drop me a line – here’s my card. Got a liking for big diamonds, so I have, and always looking for another to add to the collection! Put that one across the scales and I reckon you must be looking at the other side of six thousand quid, man,
and that’s not to speak of the stones surrounding it!”
Frederick made his thanks but said that the government would not like it if he showed disrespect to the Ottomans. He must keep the stone and wear it on high days and holidays.
“If you must, you must, Sir Frederick, but I can’t see why the king must worry himself about a bunch of bloody foreigners. Just send a couple of missionaries across to teach ‘em better, so say I!”
Frederick agreed that might be a very good idea, though the Ottoman Empire, being rather large, might require more than two men.
He was quite glad when the music finally stopped.
They travelled to Liverpool and peered critically at a small steam launch, paddle wheel thrashing furiously and stemming the tide, rather slowly, but against the wind as well.
“It is a wonderful sight, Papa,” Iain commented, after his initial enthusiasm had died down a little. “What, however, could it actually do?”
“A very good question, Iain. Could it tow a man-of-war?”
“A very little one, perhaps, sir.”
“Ten years, or twenty, do you think, Iain?”
“At least a decade, Papa, before the steam boat shall replace the oared galley for towing ships in and out of port. But, when it does, there will be a need for hundreds, possibly thousands, of them. Perhaps Robert may become interested in steam, sir, possibly to invest in it, even to take part in the manufacture of engines, for I doubt I shall have the time to spare. I must look to the needs of the estate, sir, and possibly give some thought to the country as a whole… Do you think I might be wise, in a little more than seven years, to seek a local seat, sir, and raise our voice at Westminster?”
Frederick had not considered that possibility, but if he was to attain a peerage, then Iain would become second Baron in his turn, and would be easily able to take a place in government. Experience first in the House of Commons could only be useful, if he intended to become a Public Man.
Shores of Barbary (The Duty and Destiny Series, Book 12) Page 4