Charlotte: The Practical Education of a Distressed Gentlewoman

by Amelia Grace Treader

  “Turn down an invitation?”

  “It's either that or be very rude and just show up for a few minutes, then leave.”

  “I do wish I could persuade Lady Chalfield to invite you to come with me.”

  “You can try, but I doubt you'll succeed.”

  “Oh, but you were so helpful here in Bath, and London is ever so much bigger. I'd be lost without a friend.”

  They looked out over Bath from the top of the down. Elizabeth replied, “There is nowhere near London where you get such a good view of the city as this view of Bath. Should we try for a ride to Farleigh Castle?”

  Her groom coughed, “Ma'am it's a three hour ride from here.”

  “Darn. That is too far. Is there anywhere closer? I am so enjoying this ride. It's much too soon to return to Bath.”

  “Monkton Combe is not too far Ma'am. We could return by Warminster Road.”

  “That's on the canal, isn't it?”

  “Yes Ma'am.”

  “Charlotte are you game for it?”

  “I've been so idle these last few weeks that any ride will do.”

  “Then Monkton Combe it is.”

  They worked their way down the other side of the down to the small town of Monkton Combe and the Somerset Coal Canal. Charlotte was surprised at the level of traffic.

  “Good Lord, Elizabeth. It is so busy!”

  “It is, isn't it?”

  They followed the towpath towards the junction with the Kennet and Avon. Part of the way there, Charlotte suddenly asked Elizabeth, “Lizzy, have you ever been in love?”

  “Where did that question come from?”

  “I don't know, it's just, well I don't know what it feels like, and since you seem to know so much, maybe you'd know.”

  “Charlotte how old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “I'm only twenty. So why do you keep making me feel like an ancient crone?”

  “Lizzy, you've done so much more than I have. So what's it like to be in love?”

  “I don't know. I once thought I was in love with one of Freddy's friends. He visited while he was in college. Freddy in college, that is, his friend was in the army. I doubt he even looked at me. I was a gangling young girl at the time. Still, I wonder about him from time to time.”

  “So you still think about him?”

  “Not often and only when I'm in the dumps. Anyway he's either a casualty in Spain or happily married by now. I'm sure when I really fall in love, my fantasies about him will evaporate like the morning dew.”

  “I don't know. I've met many men in the last few weeks, but somehow they just don't make an impression. Not even a bad impression like Freddy.”

  “Now you're being silly, Charlotte. If you expect to meet the love of your life during a few weeks in Bath, I think you will be disappointed.”

  “I don't know. It's just I keep thinking about your annoying brother. Why can't I get him out of my thoughts?”

  “Don't ask me about that. I can't get away from him either.”

  “But you're his sister. Why would you want to get away from him?”

  “Didn't you ever want to get away from, what was it, John?”

  “Yes, but he wasn't as nice to me as Freddy seems to be to you.”

  “Well Freddy is special, but then I'm his little sister.”

  “The thing is Lizzy, he isn't always annoying. He hasn't been so annoying lately. I don't understand it.”

  “I'm glad to hear that. Maybe you know him better than you did?”

  They reached the junction of the two canals, and much to their surprise there was a party of men examining the aqueduct and locks at the junction. One of them was Freddy.

  Elizabeth shouted, “Freddy! What are you doing here? I thought you were headed for London.”

  He walked over and greeted them. “I was, but first I'm inspecting one of father's special investments, from his 'canal mania' period.”

  “What's wrong with canals?”

  “Not much is wrong, but it's not right either. It's making a decent return for now, but I don't think it's a good long term solution to moving goods. We've put too much capital into it, so now the question is how to get some of our money out without crashing the company.”

  Charlotte quietly watched as Elizabeth queried her brother. They spoke as equals, analyzing a problem and listening to each other about their ideas. The idea that a mere female could have any opinion about a matter of substance worth listening to, let alone seriously considering was something of a surprise to her.

  “What's the problem with it?”

  “High maintenance costs, and the damp.”

  “The damp?”

  “Everything has to float. Just try keeping your grain dry in one of these barges.”

  “I see. Also, if everything is horse drawn.”

  “You're right Lizzy, it can't go any faster than a wagon, and the canal just seems to eat horseflesh. It's just too expensive to last.”

  “So is there any alternative?”

  “Stephenson, Trevithick. Steam engines and tramways.”

  “Sounds risky.”

  “It is. The trouble is doing nothing is even more risky.”

  “That's true, but will they use our ironworks?”

  “Of course, initially it might make a loss, but it won't be long before it becomes a very profitable endeavor. The canal itself uses steam pumps to keep the water flowing, and if we can improve those using Stephenson's higher pressure engines, we'll be ahead there as well.”

  Elizabeth remembered her manners. “Freddy, Charlotte and I were riding on the downs. We'll return to Bath presently. Would you or your party care to dine with us this evening?”

  Freddy finally seemed to notice Charlotte, but unfortunately he had to reply, “I'm sorry Miss De Vere, I'm due to take the next boat back to Reading on my way to the city. I'll probably be dining, if you can call it that, in a canal-side pub at Chippingham, if not Devizes or some other such damned place.”

  Charlotte wondered why, despite her nominal antipathy to this bounder, it was a disappointment that he wouldn't be dinning with them. “I'm truly sorry to hear that Mr. Talbot. I'm planning to visit London in a week or so, could we dine then?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  The two women bid Freddy adieu and headed back to Bath.

  As they approached the town, Charlotte asked Elizabeth, “Lizzy, is it my imagining or did your brother seem more tired, almost worn down and drawn than when we first met in Staverton?”

  “I think he is. The weight of responsibility is on his shoulders now and it shows.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “Not always, but it can be. Father sometimes used to get exhausted with it. Still, it is better than spending twelve hours laboring in a factory.”

  “Or mucking out the stables.”

  “Charlotte I've just had an idea. How about I post down to London next week? Mr. Netherfield is due back by then, so I'll be free, and in any case Mr. Jones is more than ready to be in charge for a few days without me looking over his shoulder. You and Lady what's-it can ride with me. That way I can surprise Freddy and cheer him up. You're welcome to stay with us, if you want.”

  Charlotte looked dubious, “I'm not sure Lady Chalfield will accept your offer.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “Charlotte, you said don't gamble.”

  “Except on sure things. She'll hem and haw about it, but in the end a free ride in a luxurious post chase is something she won't care to miss.”

  “I thought you and your family always rode the mail?”

  “Freddy does, but then he likes it.”

  “Really, Lizzy? I've never done it, but John did. He said it was awful, full of common folk and the smells that came with them. Very leveling.”

  “I expect Freddy does it to show his employees he will do anything he asks them to do. Besides, we're dreadfully common folk too.”

  “I thought you said you moved
in the first circles?”

  Elizabeth laughed, “It's amazing what having money will do.”

  “Lizzy!”

  “Remember I once told you that I was only accepted as a wealthy heiress?”

  “Yes, but that was long ago.”

  “Only seems it. One reason I've not 'fallen in love' is almost all the men I meet seem more interested in my fortune than me.”

  “Lizzy, that cannot be true. You're just being cynical.”

  “No, realistic. I'm sure someday I'll meet someone who doesn't care about my blunt. But then they'd be out of their right mind and I could never marry someone who is out of his right mind.”

  8. Charlotte Visits London.

  Elizabeth's predictions about Lady Chalfield and the chance of a free ride were spot on. She hemmed and hawed, claimed she didn't want to be a burden, but quickly acquiesced to the idea of taking a seat in the Talbot carriage. The Answorths were pleased as well, while they couldn't put their finger on the reason, something about their erstwhile neighbor bothered them. Having a steady young female like Miss Talbot ride with their friend was reassuring. Knowing that she would be living not far away in London was doubly so.

  The post chaise Elizabeth hired left Bath for London early in the morning. Not as early as Elizabeth wished, but earlier than either Lady Chalfield or Charlotte would normally rise in the morning. Naturally this lead to a certain amount of matutinal silence. They took the Bath road through Chippingham, Marlborough and Newbury. In Newbury the Bath road changed to the London road and Charlotte asked if anyone else was perhaps a little in need of refreshment. Elizabeth took the hint and asked the post boy to stop at the next respectable inn. Lady Chalfield was visibly distressed, “Could we move on?”

  “Why?”

  “This place has unfortunate associations, poor Lord Chalfield took ill in Newbury.”

  Elizabeth innocently inquired, “On a race day, perhaps?”

  Lady Chalfield gave her a hard stare, “No, of course not.”

  “If you say so.” Elizabeth thumped on the carriage, then looked out and addressed the postilion, “Driver, can you drive on?”

  The post boy pointed out that they had to change horses at the next post house and they were stopping there no matter what. He was not about to lame his horses simply to satisfy a woman's whim.

  Charlotte smiled at her friends, “So I guess we're stopping after all, Lizzy.”

  Lady Chalfield quickly left the coach and fled to a table in the back of the house, while Charlotte and Elizabeth followed at a more leisurely pace. “Lizzy, why was Lady Chalfield so worried?”

  “Probably she made a bad bet at the races, owes some money to a bookie, and shot the bolt to avoid payment.”

  “Lizzy!”

  “Of course I could be wrong about it. It's just I tend to be cynical about people, especially when there's money involved.”

  Elizabeth wasn't wrong. A rather large and somewhat greasy and ill-dressed man had cornered Lady Chalfield in the back of the room. He was loudly demanding that she settle her debts with him, now.

  “I'm sorry who are you?”

  “Gentleman Jack, bookmaker. Now my fine lady, will you settle your account, or do I call the bailiffs?”

  “I- I-” she stammered, desperate to find a way to avoid being trotted off to debtor's prison or, worse still, paying her debt. Seeing Elizabeth, she threw one last desperate toss of the die. “Miss Talbot, I seem to have mislaid my pocketbook. Can you help me settle with this individual?”

  Charlotte was dismayed to see her friend in a sticky situation. Elizabeth was amused by it, and had to restrain her natural sense of fun. “You know Lady Chalfield, my brother told me never to loan money without collateral.” A hard, ugly expression flickered on Lady Chalfield's face, then she was sweetness itself. “Of course, my dear. It's not a loan, I'm temporarily a bit short. I left my money in the luggage.”

  Gentleman Jack growled, “There's plenty of time to retrieve it.” Elizabeth thought quickly, while she would prefer to remove Charlotte from the company of this old leech, she was acutely aware that exposing Lady Chalfield and causing a fuss could have more bad effects than good. Especially if it led to difficulties with the Answorths or Charlotte.

  “How much is the debt?”

  Gentleman Jack studied Elizabeth with a measuring eye, he liked what he saw and recognized a lady of means and quality. Smiling, he warned her, “Miss, this old croaker ain't worth it.”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty pounds.”

  Elizabeth gasped in pretend amazement, “Why Lady Chalfield, I'm shocked, shocked that you wouldn't carry such small change with you. Especially on a journey like this where there are bound to be expenses.” Charlotte's expression was puzzled, and she asked, “Lizzy, are you making fun of Lady Chalfield?”

  “Of course not, Charlotte.”

  Lady Chalfield, desperately suggested to Elizabeth, “I'll pledge my necklace to you, it's worth at least ten times that.”

  “Paste, most likely.” Gentleman Jack unhelpfully interjected. Elizabeth had already noticed that the diamonds lacked brilliance and the silver mountings were unusually tinny. She replied, “Undoubtedly and not very good paste at that.” Elizabeth thought about leaving Lady Chalfield to dangle in the basket, but the driver of the chase came in and said the horses were nearly ready. “Charlotte, why don't you go purchase some food? I'll settle with these two.”

  After Charlotte slipped off, Elizabeth pointedly told Lady Chalfield. “Ma'am, Miss De Vere is a bit naive, a sweet little bird unused to the ways of the world, I'm not. Please remember that she is my friend, and my family looks after its friends. Understand?” Lady Chalfield, aghast at such blunt, almost threatening, language from someone she assumed was a young lady of refinement, nodded. Elizabeth pulled a sheet of paper from her reticule, and drew up a repayment contract. She abruptly commanded Lady Chalfield, “Sign this. Here.”

  Once that was complete, she paid Gentleman Jack. “Thank your Miss, but you know that vowel is only scrap paper to her kind.”

  “I know, but I have a few friends who are good at getting people who borrow money from me to pay up.”

  “As good as me?”

  “You'd be surprised. You've heard of the Kennet County Bank or maybe its owners, the Talbot Company?”

  “Yes. They financed the canal. It helps bring in the punters.”

  “That's us.”

  He turned to Lady Chalfield and grinned, “You'd best pay that vowel, Milady. Don't say I didn't warn you.” His gap-toothed smile only added to the menace of his suggestion.

  He then thanked Elizabeth and left.

  Reinstated in the chase, Charlotte's needs relieved, Elizabeth amused and Lady Chalfield exhausted from the day's struggle, they continued with a change of horses at Walcott Green outside of Reading to London.

  Elizabeth had the post chase drop Lady Chalfield and Charlotte off at Lady Chalfield's townhouse, then drive to hers. As her luggage was being unloaded she went in. The butler could deal with dismissing the chase.

  “Is Mr. Talbot home?”

  “Lizzy, is that you?” Freddy came out from his study, glad to see that his sister had finally arrived.

  “Yes, I've made it. No highwaymen, the horses didn't go lame nor did any other of those dreadful things happen.”

  “You must be tired,”

  “I'll admit I'm in need of refreshment. First though, I'm worried about Charlotte and that Lady Chalfield.”

  “Lizzy, they're none of our business.”

  “It's just Charlotte, for all her pride and occasional prickliness, is completely unsophisticated. Lady Chalfield will just snap her up and spit her out.”

  “I know. I understand she's your friend, and have to admit that when she's not snapping my nose off she's decent company. It's just that it is not our business. It's her lookout.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “I'll have the cook run you up something to eat. I have a few
letters to finish and will join you afterwards.”

  Charlotte's experience was somewhat different and much less friendly. Lady Chalfield immediately retired to recover from the exigencies of the journey leaving her guest hungry and confused. There were only a few servants. They were all ill-dressed and surly, and were not inclined to help Charlotte either with her luggage or her dinner. As dusk firmly settled in the evening, Lady Chalfield arose from her slumbers, chased up Charlotte and proposed a journey to one her favorite hells.

  Saying, “Lady Luttrel's house parties are always good for a little flutter and they'll give us dinner,” She bore Charlotte off on her first visit to a gambling or faro house.

  Faro is a relatively simple game to play, and an easy one for a card sharp and his confederates to control. The punters place bets on which card will be turned up from a deck. Pairs of cards are turned, the first loses, the second wins. The dealer and his chums can know exactly which card will be dealt when by using a little misdirection and sleight of hand in the shuffle, or if brazen enough gain advantage with a slightly marked or a 'stripped' deck. They can lure the muggins into placing successively larger bets, then wipe him or her out. High class and honest gambling dens would never use such techniques. Lady Luttrel's parties were neither high class nor honest.

  Charlotte found herself at the faro table. She naively asked, “How do I play this game?”

  Lady Chalfield explained the rules, “You place your money on one of the cards on the table, like so.” She put a few guineas on number seven. “It's my lucky number.” Then the dealer dealt two cards. The second was a seven. “You see.” She took her winnings. “Now why don't you try it?'

  Charlotte asked, “Is that all?”

  “Well, you can bet against a card by putting a copper on top of your bet.”

  “So if I thought the next card wouldn't be a seven I'd put a copper on my guinea?”

  “No quite, that's if you'd expect the first card to be a seven.”

  “Oh. I think I've got it.”

  “Good, would you care for some Champagne?”

  By the end of the first night a decidedly tipsy Charlotte returned home with Lady Chalfield a couple of hundred pounds to the plus side. The cards just seemed to be going her way.