Privilege Preserved (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 5)

by Andrew Wareham

  Mark was not to worry, it would all be dealt with quietly and sensibly; for the while, mum was the word, say nothing to anyone.

  Mark agreed and returned to Manchester happier than he had been for some weeks.

  Thomas made his way to St Helens next day, discovered my lord to be at Thingdon Hall, recently returned from his honeymoon journey and introducing his new wife to the locality. A post chaise and four was ordered for the morning.

  “Advice, my lord, if you would be so good! You have contacts in London that neither my father nor I possess, I believe, and there is a certain discreet matter that cannot be resolved by any ordinary means that I can imagine.”

  Tom listened and soon decided that it was a matter for Michael, and he in turn might be expected to consult his Mr Smith, though he did not mention that name to Thomas.

  “I shall write him a letter then, my lord.”

  Tom was urgent with him not to do that – the less these matters were mentioned on paper, the better.

  “I shall be in London next week, Thomas, and shall speak with Michael then.”

  “Lord Star’s lawyer son, you say, my lord. A most deserving family and one that deserves our best, I believe. With your permission, my lord, I shall take the appropriate steps.”

  “Thank you, Mr Michael.”

  Both felt that what Tom did not know could cause him no sleepless nights.

  “So, Mr Smith, I believe we might have an opportunity to identify the most virulent of the Revolutionaries in Lancashire and catch them ‘red-handed’, as it were.”

  Mr Smith, still in his discreet offices near the Opera House and intimate with the less visible employees of Home and Foreign Offices, older and balder, a little heavier, but just as mild-seeming and anonymous, acknowledged Michael’s wit and agreed – it would require only a little ingenuity of his own gentlemen, one of whom, of the appropriate persuasion, would very soon be making this ‘Christopher’s’ acquaintance.

  Smith issued his instructions and noted that Lord Star contributed at least a thousand to the Party every year, unfailingly for the past two decades. Good government owed a debt to Lord Star, and would very quietly repay it by dealing with this menace of a Christopher.

  London was, in theory, home only to Cits and the vulgar outside of the Season, yet the hotels were full and the playhouses and concert halls were open, only the Opera had its shutters up. The frenetic pace displayed by society in the Season was certainly absent but there was entertainment and business both to keep a visitor occupied and to cater for the population of young men about the town. Frances was anxious as well to refurbish her wardrobe, being free from her mother’s helpful hand, and Tom felt the need to confer at length with Clapperley, needing advice on the matter of his relationship with John Company and wanting to get the hard, unvarnished, truth.

  “Iron, my lord, in India – not a good idea, not from the Company’s point of view. They, and the government, want an India that will produce valuable goods at low cost and which will never be able to compete with us. If ever there was to be industry in India, then we would very soon find ourselves to be the lesser partners – for there are a hundred Indians to every one of us, you know, and many of them well-educated!”

  “What of Botany Bay, Mr Clapperley, or the Cape?”

  “More suited to grow wheat and produce good wool for our mills, we think, my lord.”

  Tom was silent a few minutes, working out exactly what the message was, finally nodded.

  “There are coal measures in Leicestershire, and Nottinghamshire as well, I believe, and canals close to hand. Was the coal to be mined then the wheat fields would go, obviously, covered by colliers’ houses in the new towns…”

  “And wheat could be shipped in, from the States and from Russia. Rice from India and Burma and Ceylon, other foodstuffs, sugar for example, from the tropical colonies as well. A coal pit will use one hundred times the men to be found working wheat fields, my lord.”

  “What of Ireland?”

  “A good question, my lord. They can eat the potato and sell wheat and cheeses to England, and perhaps a little of beef on the hoof. They make good soldiers, the Paddies, and government believes it may have been a trifle hasty in reducing the number of battalions of the Line. There is a need, we find, for garrisons in Malta and any number of forts in Africa and India, and the damned Russians have despatched ships to the South Pacific to examine the possibilities of colonies there, so we must beef up our presence in the Antipodes.”

  Clapperley had the figures to hand, having still a responsibility for the overseas commissariat and a wish to increase the number of establishments for which he must negotiate profitable contracts.

  “My last letter from India tells me that the Company would be very friendly to Roberts’ establishment of tea plantations in Ceylon, Mr Clapperley.”

  “I am sure they would be, my lord. There would be a question of taxes to be paid, small but useful to them, and the income from freight and carriage of tea to London. Newly conquered territories are an expense to the Company for twenty or thirty years typically before their tax revenues come to exceed the costs of garrisoning and building roads and establishing Collectors and building a few hospitals and schools, which they feel obliged to do. A competitor, admittedly, but one who was in a sector of business they themselves did not intend to enter, would not be unwelcome, particularly one who needed to build roads and enlarge a port or two. As well, there is the vexed question of the Honourable Company’s monopoly, which they wish to keep and many a London merchant wishes to see broken – your friendship might well be worth the purchase.”

  Tom smiled and agreed and thanked Clapperley for his explanations, said that he knew now exactly what must be done.

  “One other matter, Mr Clapperley. My second boy, James, who was to be a soldier…”

  “Ah, yes, my lord. The poor lad was invalided out, I understand. A leg, was it not?”

  Tom was not surprised that Clapperley knew about James’ injury – information was part of his currency of existence.

  “He is to take one of the family’s seats, Mr Clapperley, will be a voice of moderation and reason in the House when it comes to the discussion of Factory Acts and such. Manufacturing is poorly represented in Westminster, too many of Radicals and suchlike extremists, too few of actual businessmen. The family feels that the young man could perform a number of very useful services for us all. Of course, in the early days he will need a little assistance, to find his feet as it were, though that may not be the most felicitous way of expressing the matter, certainly not to him!”

  Clapperley smiled happily – he would be only too pleased to introduce James to the right members and steer him away from the wrong. He had the ear of the leaders of the party and would find it easy to bring James to their attention, in process reminding them of his powerful friends and making his own ambitions easier to achieve.

  “I was speaking to Lord Liverpool only a few weeks ago, Mr Clapperley, and was able to mention your name in passing, just to note your wish for something for your eldest boy to inherit.”

  A baronetcy rather than a simple knighthood, in fact. Clapperley knew that he could not become a baron, he had been a little too greedy, perhaps, but if he became a baronet then his son would find the move up to the peerage to be much easier, and he was a bright young fellow, well capable of following in his father’s footsteps, he believed. Even at the age of sixteen the lad was becoming a handful and he had had to remove him from his school before he was expelled – a promising start! He intended to put the boy into the St Helens office, where he would undoubtedly learn a great deal that would be very good for him; Mr Farlow would have a number of lessons to impart, particularly in the field of not being caught out as he had been at school.

  “That is much appreciated, my lord. For many years now your friendship and kindness has been a boon to me!”

  Tom came away well satisfied – Clapperley had his fingers on any number of strings and wou
ld undoubtedly pull them quite vigorously over the next little while. He went off to see Robert and talk finance.

  “Raising capital for use in India can be a nuisance, of course, Father. Too much gold is being sent out of England already and almost our sole source is West Africa, the dust passing through the hands of intermediaries before it reaches us, the supply erratic and unpredictable. Silver as well is in short supply, the mines in Bohemia coming to the end of their lives, one understands. However, we can get round the problem with a little ingenuity. Both Mostyn’s and Goldsmid’s Banks make loans each year to East India Houses in London, all in the form of paper of course, predominantly Trade Bills. Additional funds could be released in London at very low rates, repayment to be made by their traders in Bombay and Calcutta, partly in gold, partly in local paper. The East India merchants will always be glad to extend their friendships in England – a voice in the Lords, a whisper in Whitehall, of great advantage to them in their dealings with John Company.”

  They discussed the question for an hour or two, setting out a budget for the tea venture, pencilling in dates and sums in specie and paper, all on a loose, speculative basis in the absence of the hard word from Wolverstone. They could not expect detail for another year, yet had to have funds available for instant release when the word came. It became clear to them that they must have a bank in India, a manager there who could take decisions without a delay of not less than six months for letters to reach London and return, even by the overland route.

  “Will the Company permit such a thing, Robert?”

  “Only if government chooses to lean upon them, sir.”

  “I begged favours of Lord Liverpool only recently, so I cannot go knocking on his door again for a year or two… What of the Foreign Minister, Lord Castlereagh? He is at odds with the Seftons at the moment, and Lord Sefton disapproves of our steamships clogging up his Mersey and of our mills and works eating up the open fields – especially because there have been no finds of coal on his estates. So, Sefton being against us, Castlereagh ought to be more willing to look after us.”

  “One minute, sir, while I have a word with Mr Mostyn in person. I am sure I saw Castlereagh in his company only a couple of weeks ago.”

  Robert came back in five minutes, nodding quietly.

  “I was right. My lord found himself in immediate need of a couple of thousand in cash, could not wait for his quarter’s income from his lands. He is well in the black, simply needed a short-term accommodation which Mostyn’s supplied at almost no interest. Papa Mostyn is sure, by the way, that he needed to settle with a blackmailer, hence the urgency, says that Castlereagh was quite frantic with the need for haste and discretion.”

  “Did he discover what or who?”

  “He asked Michael, who says that he is not yet sure who is being paid off this time but that my lord is wholly indiscriminate in fulfilling his desires, ‘taking heed of neither years nor gender when the need is upon him’.”

  “Not just a lecherous fool but disgusting with it, one gathers. Will you talk to him or should I?”

  “Neither, sir. Mr Mostyn will simply investigate the possibility of expanding his interests to all places where Britannia holds sway and he can serve his adopted country. It should be easy enough.”

  It would be – if Castlereagh was open to one blackmailer then there would be more and he would need the services of a sympathetic banker again – and again. A branch of Mostyn’s in Bombay, possibly in other major cities in the sub-continent, should be highly profitable in its own right, irrespective of Roberts’ advantage. The opium trade with China turned over many millions each year, and there were other enterprises, as well.

  Robert did not mention his speculative thoughts to his father – the old gentleman did tend to be somewhat straitlaced in his business dealings.

  The slave trade, for example, seemed to outrage him, which was a pity in many ways. The trade from India, China and the Malay States into Persia and the Arabian Peninsula was huge, Robert knew, mostly small dhows but a few European ships involved and earning two hundred per cent per annum and more – very tempting waters for any banker to fish in!

  Tom joined Frances to drink tea with Lady Brunskill, widow of a political baron who had been very rich but had owned no land. Without estates to manage she dwelt in London the year round and found good causes to busy herself with; one or two of them were worthwhile.

  “Street Arabs, my lord, guttersnipes, mudlarks, urchins generally – the waifs and strays who proliferate in our towns and manage very often to avoid the tender clutches of the orphanages.”

  “Very wisely, ma’am! I heard from my own people of one of the orphanages in London, and the perils the boys faced there, starvation amongst them.”

  “We need places for them where they can learn their letters and a useful trade, can grow into good Englishmen. Out of town would be best, well-supervised, regularly inspected.”

  An hour’s discussion found that they could quite easily finance a boarding establishment for a hundred boys. What they could not do was to discover men and women of good character to staff them.

  “Unless the wage is high then the supervisors will tend to be attracted by… other considerations, shall we say. Even with very good salaries it can be a difficulty, my lord.”

  Lady Brunskill had taken part recently in an investigation into the conditions of some of London’s few orphanages. She had not been pleased with her discoveries.

  “Out of London, for a start, ma’am, away from the vice that seems inherent to this town. In a rural area with a Board of Management and Oversight to play an active role. Clergy and local gentlemen, taking turns to visit every week, inspecting the kitchens, checking the bills, talking to the inmates – it becomes less impossible to maintain a degree of decency. Perhaps on the coast, the youngsters to be trained to the sea. Able boys can go as apprentices and soon become officers in the merchant service, a very respectable occupation. Others may perhaps go overseas – it is possible to become rich in the Americas.”

  Frances, not yet attuned to the ways and habits of English culture and society, was a little puzzled.

  “Why boys only, Lady Brunskill? Is there not a need for orphanages for young females?”

  “Girls are never to be seen amongst the street orphans, Lady Andrews, they will always be swept up and put to employment, shall we say. Irrespective of their age.”

  “You mean…”

  “I do, ma’am! A great disgrace, as widespread an evil as slavery, and in many ways the same. And impossible to discuss even! Our divines will inform us that the female is inherently sinful and that it is God’s will that they should suffer, while the politicians all patronise the various houses, or have wealthy friends who do so. There is no protection for the girl child who has no parents to look after her, and any who protest or try to achieve a change in the law runs great risk of being deemed insane and put away for his or her own good. The newssheets depend upon their advertisers and will publish nothing, whoever may make complaint to them.”

  “Is this truly so, my lord?”

  Tom nodded, briefly, uncomfortable with the very mention of the dangerous topic. He quickly agreed to aid Lady Brunskill financially, but drew back from taking active part in her proposed new political campaign – he was still far too busy in the firm.

  “We live in an appalling country, Thomas!”

  “We do, my dear. It may, of course, simply be the case that the human being is an appalling species, but that would require the services of a philosopher to determine!”

  “And there is nothing to be done?”

  “Not a thing, my dear! I would be bankrupted within the twelvemonth if I made the attempt, and the boys as well. Mostyn and Goldsmid would probably be discovered to be bloody-handed revolutionaries, and would face confiscations at least. The authorities would be ruthless because the Prince Regent, ‘Prinny’, is known to dabble in such activities as we deplore – he has a taste for the underage and unwilling,
it is whispered, and his brothers of Kent and Cambridge have a very nasty reputation. Silly Billy and York seem to be clean-handed, but the rest of that family is distinguished only for vice and perversion – and God help the man who even dares hint as much in public! You will remember the imprisonment of the writer, Leigh Hunt, for even deploring Prinny’s activities, though he did not in any way specify them.”

  “’Les aristos a la lanterne’?”

  “It may well come to that yet, Frances. This year has seen riots in the mill towns, some machine breaking again in the cotton and woollen weaving areas, General Ludd cried up. Mudge and Quillerson both, separately, have warned me of Captain Swing riding the fields at night. Even a well-deserved exposure of the most evil of practices might provide the spark that exploded the powder-keg. Silence is probably the only possible course, though I would it were not. Clapperley tells me that Horse Guards is recruiting new battalions, reversing some of the cuts in the army – he says for service in the new colonies and trading posts overseas, but I suspect they are more for use in England and Ireland, where there is very likely to be a need for disciplined men.”

  “What of the Militia? I had thought they were posted in large numbers through the North Country.”

  “They are, but cannot be for much longer. Their officers are, on the whole, drunken, incompetent louts; the men as a result tend to be alcoholic brutes who create more riots than they suppress. Judge after judge has made protest over their treatment of ordinary people, and government has been forced to listen for fear that the matter might be raised in the Upper House by the Law Lords or the Bishops who sit by right and cannot practically be silenced if they decide to open their mouths.”

  “How close are we to revolution, Thomas?”