"Tell me, or your Mama, if the need arises."
"Yes, sir."
Marcus would enjoy that - snitching on his brother came easily to him.
"How much longer, Papa? Will the journey soon be over?"
"We will see in a few minutes. It is nearly midday and the captain and the first mate are making ready to discover our position. They have their sextants, look, and will measure the elevation of the sun above the horizon."
Marcus, an intelligent boy, observed carefully, listened to their calls, saw them write down their figures.
"Why did each do it three times, Papa?"
"They cannot be sure to catch the time to the exact second of noon, and the waves can make it hard to find the position of the horizon. So they work out an answer three times and put the position on their chart. The figures will, probably, all be almost the same, and they can say that they are within a very few miles of a given location. Far out to sea, it does not matter. Close to land, of course, they can use a telescope to look at the coast and know just where they are that way."
"But what if they are near the land, but just too far away to see it, Papa?"
"Then, Marcus, I suspect you will see the captain order most of the sails to be taken in and the ship will go very carefully and slowly on her way!"
Marcus did not approve. It seemed to him to be a haphazard way of going about things. He decided not to be a sailor when he grew up.
"Two hundred miles off Cork, Ti Henry. We will pick up the Irish coast tomorrow and, with luck, make Bristol in three days. A good passage, sir, for the time of year. Winter crossings are either like this - a good wind but not too much - or unbroken storm for six weeks. Barometer is holding steady, sky looks good, waves feel right - we should make port very comfortably, sir."
They ate a light, and boring, luncheon - split pea soup, again, with fresh bread. Henry had sent provisions aboard, including a dozen well-smoked hams, and they had fared far better than if they had had to subsist on sailors' rations. He had ensured that there was an over-supply of flour, sufficient for the crew to eat bread from the passengers’ oven rather than twice-baked biscuit, and was very popular belowdecks as a result. All of the sailors would keep an eye out for the boys.
Grace joined them for an afternoon constitutional - exercise so important for the health of herself and her family - although she was a poor sailor and wanted no more than for the voyage to end. On the positive side, and she firmly believed that every woman had a duty to discover and count her blessings, she was quite certain she had shed at least four pounds avoirdupois every week, and, whilst this did not produce a sylph-like shape in her, it was a considerable improvement, she believed. She strode out along the deck, listening to her children's explanations of all that they saw, correcting misapprehensions when possible; a mother's duty never ended, there could be no such thing as an excursion of pleasure, she was obliged to improve her children's minds and understanding at all times.
Henry breathed deep of the bracing sea air, tried to persuade himself that it was very healthy and good for him. It was distinctly unpleasant, which most 'good' things were in his experience, so it might be beneficial.
"A great pity that ocean-going steamers are not yet wholly practical, ma'am. A passage of twenty or so days would be far more desirable."
The second mate, old in the sea, overheard and snorted.
"Wooden ships and steam engines, sir! Not my idea of a good mix! I 'ave seen they paddle-steamers in Liverpool Bay, and I don't trust they an inch, sir, not one! Iron plates they got on the outside, but wooden frames to 'old they ain't so good an idea, to my mind. Besides that - paddle-wheels do be all very well on rivers, like we sees out of New Orleans, but I don't reckon them when the old ship takes to pitching and rolling out on the blue water."
"I agree, Mr Pelter. That is why you do not see my yard building steamers for the oceans."
"Your yard, sir? Is it so that you be that Mr Star? The Ti Henry one?"
"I be, that is, I am, Mr Pelter."
"Ah... I didn't know that, sir. You'm right, though. They ain't right for the seas yet."
"Wholly of iron and propelled by something other than a paddle-wheel - some years before that can be, I fear."
"Steel in sheets, that is the great need, it would seem, Mr Star."
Grace was always formal in front of the underlings.
"It is, ma'am. And I have not heard a whisper of it becoming likely. Not one inventor who is in pursuit of the idea even."
"A pity, for, as you so rightly say, the Atlantic passage is overlong and tedious now."
They spent a single night in Bristol - it was nothing other than a large and prosperous port, was not a great city and had no particular attraction for the traveller.
"How do we proceed to Liverpool, Henry?"
Grace, fourth-generation New England, had no knowledge of Britain.
"By way of London, I fear, my dear. Two comfortable days by post chaise to Town, then three, or, being winter, four to Liverpool and Freemans. If we attempted to progress in a straight line then we would be two weeks at least over mud-tracks as often as turnpikes. Breaking the journey for a few days in London will make sense in any case. You have your maid and the boys have their nurse, but I do not have a valet - and a gentleman in England must have one of those. I can find one very easily in London, with more difficulty elsewhere - a man who will attend me in England and, on mutual liking, could accompany me to the States. We can also acquaint you with some of our relatives, I expect. I read that Parliament is sitting at the moment, which is not entirely usual for this time of year, so there will be more people in Town than might be expected."
The two chaises in convoy attracted a little attention at the posting inn in Reading where they overnighted. The presence of servants acted to warn the landlord and staff that there was money on the road and they were particularly attentive to the travellers' comfort.
"Mr and Mrs Star of New Orleans, sir." The landlord noted their names in his book. "Going to London, of course, sir."
"And then on to Lancashire, to visit with my brother at his seat."
A quick glance at a County Directory before dinner and the landlord had placed Henry as brother to Lord Star, a very wealthy gentleman, as had been Henry's intention. They received of the very best the inn had to offer.
"Ah... New Orleans, sir. In America, is it?"
"The great port on the Mississippi River, sir, largest river in the known world, and carrying many dozens of steam boats built in my yard!"
"And your lady wife and your two fine boys, sir, are Americans, but you speak as an Englishman."
"Nearly twenty years an American, landlord, but the old accent still holds true, it would seem. You appear to be busy, landlord, lots of traffic on the old Great West Road?"
"For the while, sir, for the while!"
Henry raised a querying eyebrow, he could not imagine that folk would stop travelling to Bristol.
"The days of the stage-coach be numbered, Mr Star, the writing be upon the wall!"
Henry glanced across, could see nothing. Grace came to his rescue.
"Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin, I believe, sir. The message of impending doom."
"It is indeed, ma'am. Not all can see it, but I can, ma'am. These new 'railways', ma'am! By next year, or soon at least, there will be a steam railway from Manchester to Liverpool, with 'trains' upon it. Where will the coach and horses be then? Ten years from now and there will be a railway from London to Bristol, and passengers travelling there in the morning and back home again at night! Two hundred miles in a day and thinking nothing of it, you see if they don't!"
Henry understood now, could see that there would be no business for a posting house on the road just outside of town.
"Who is building this railway, landlord?"
"Don't know, sir. Some northern chappie, so I'm told. Thirty miles an hour, sir, that's what I read!"
Henry saw a great light and heard a voice crying
to him. 'Money', it said.
"A railway line from New York to Albany, my dear. Another down to Washington and south to Richmond in Virginia. North to Boston, and all places in between! We may well have come to England at just the right time."
They reached London next afternoon, sought out a hotel. The Clarendon was the only name that Henry knew for he had never spent time in London.
"Quite full, I regret, sir. I am sorry, I did not catch your name?"
"Mr Henry Star. Can you recommend another hotel for me, sir?"
"Just one moment, Mr Star. I believe Young Mr Monson might wish to speak with you."
The reception clerk fingered the bell pull under his counter.
Young Mr Monson transpired to be a man in his forties - he would not become 'Old' while his father still lived.
"Mr Star, sir, who has just arrived from America."
"That must be Mr Henry Star, I should imagine?"
"It is, sir."
"Welcome to the Clarendon, Mr Star. The first floor suite, I think."
Their baggage disappeared and they were escorted to a remarkably well-appointed set of rooms. There was a nursery for the boys, a vast bedroom and a sitting room; tucked away behind were quarters for three servants.
"Lord Star has been a welcome guest, eating here on many occasions, Mr Star. The first lord as well. The Andrews family - close connections, I believe - have also made use of our facilities in the past, particularly when just passing through and not wishing to open up the town house for just a day or two."
Henry had hoped for this reaction; amongst other things his presence would very rapidly be made known to any family members in Town.
The children ate in their nursery, under the care of their nurse and an assigned chambermaid, the two to provide twenty-four hour cover between them. Henry took Grace down to the public dining room.
"The best dinners in London, my dear, and consequently attended by the best people. They will see our table and not recognise us and will enquire of Monson. It will be interesting to watch for reactions."
Half an hour into their dinner Henry saw James Andrews limp into the room, in company of a party of a dozen, his wife evidently at his side. Less than five minutes after that he stood as James greeted him.
"How are you, James? It is many years since last we met, but you are unmistakable! I don't think I have changed much either. You have not met my wife, Grace."
James made his greetings, explained that he was with a group of politicians, begged that Henry might call in the morning, with his family.
Henry was pleased to make the engagement, commenting that they were tired from travelling, would not join them after dinner.
"I think, my dear, that I may have been a fraction short of tact - 'unmistakable', indeed. With that leg he could hardly be anything else!"
"A word before we retire, Mr Monson. I have it in mind to take on an English valet, hopefully to accompany me back to the States. Can you advise me how to go about the process in London?"
"Leave it to me, Mr Star. Today is Tuesday. I will arrange for you to see a proper and likely candidate on Thursday, after noon, say? It might be difficult to organise the procedure for tomorrow."
"That is very good of you, Mr Monson. Thank you."
One of the hotel's own men appeared next morning, descending on Henry's luggage and making speed to the laundry room. The shipboard people, it would seem, had been wholly inadequate.
Introductions were made, children were marvelled over and time was discovered to have passed, the years to have flown by.
"It was time to come to England, James - to acquaint my wife and children with our background, primarily, but also from a business point of view. America is growing, James, expanding beyond belief. The lands beyond the Mississippi must be filled in the next half century or so - settlers from England, Ireland and, increasingly, the Germanies are flooding into the country, and the numbers will grow each year. Two decades from now and the trade in wheat will be massive. There will be millions of tons produced, quite literally. There will be beef cattle as well, but that is less important from a trade point of view - meat cannot be transported."
"We have our Corn Laws, as you know, Henry, at the moment almost preventing the entry of wheat. They are to be amended in the very near future - probably while you are still in the country. They will go completely inside twenty years, they are simply intolerable, taking food out of the mouths of the poor in order to put gold in the pockets of the rich!"
"So... In the longer term, there will be a trade in wheat... By steamer down the Red River to the Mississippi, then by ocean-going ship to Bristol or Liverpool. There will be a call for docks and for warehouses. For sacks, even."
"What of the new railways, Henry?"
"What indeed? The landlord at the posting-inn said they would be the death of him - was he not exaggerating James?"
"Well... it is hard to believe, I must say. There is but one true railway building in the country, I believe, and it seems unlikely to imagine that there will be too many more. Liverpool to Manchester has been five years in the talking, will be three in the building - I cannot see that the thousands of miles they talk about can come to pass in the whole of my lifetime!"
"One small railway to test the idea - if it works, there will be hundreds overnight. Who is this man building the railway? Some fellow out of the North Country, I gather."
"Mr Stephenson - a self-made man in steam. As go-ahead as our parents ever were. Brother Joseph is a great supporter, indeed, is making wheels for him of a special sort."
"Joseph is convinced?"
"Utterly."
"Then so am I, James! A man of rare parts is Joseph. Is he much affected by little Mary's death?"
"Only now making a recover, Henry. He took to opium-eating for a while, but has broken that habit very thoroughly. He is back to himself, as far as one can be - such an experience can leave no man unchanged, I believe. Was I to lose wife and children then I know not..."
"Nor I," Henry facilely agreed. He stopped and thought for a second, repeated himself with far more feeling. "Losing the boys would break me, I fear. I have not been close enough to them - that must change."
James raised a polite eyebrow, gave Henry the option to say more or nothing.
"New Orleans is an unhealthy city, James. Yellow fever is not uncommon and swamp fevers abound. The family stays up the river on the plantation north of Natchez - far safer for them. But I have to be within reach of the Governor and the shipyard and the other merchanting interests in town. I can rarely spend a fortnight in two months at home."
"I have a similar experience in the summer months, Henry. The House commonly sits until the end of July these days. It was used to rise at the end of the Season but there is an increasing amount of business to conduct - and rumour insists that the railways will make more. The Thames stinks in summer, Henry - it is no more than an open cess-pool! So my lady wife takes the boys up to Lutterworth in June and I join them when I can. I may well have a place under the next Premier, Henry, and so will spend even more time in London. That, by the way, should not be noised about, if you would be so good."
"Is Lord Andrews to be found on the estate at the moment, James, or will he be travelling the country much as your father was used to do?"
"At Thingdon, probably. I can send to Mount Street to discover whether they have forewarning of him."
"I would be much obliged if you would, for I must speak to him - business, I fear."
"The railways?"
"Far more old-fashioned, I regret to say. Farming! The new lands coming in will have huge fields to plough and sow and reap, and none too many hands to do the job - so it is agricultural machinery for us, James. The works at Thingdon have been leaders in the farming world for some years, or so I believe, and can sell us many a useful tool. The demand for them will be great, of that I am quite certain."
James was sure that must be so, thought no further.
Rober
t was less sanguine.
He welcomed Henry and chuckled as his two sons were overwhelmed by the sets of twins.
"A strong pair of lads, Henry! Unused to the company of other youngsters of their age, I imagine?"
"Living on the plantation it is necessary to maintain a distance, my lord. It would not do for them to get too close to the children of the slaves. I would wish, in fact, to remove them entirely from their company - for I do not want them to grow up as unthinking slave-holders. There are too many of that sort in the Southern States, my lord - grown into the institution, regarding it as natural and believing that it may last forever. My lads must not fall into that error."
"You believe that slavery cannot last, Henry?"
"The whole thrust, the ethos of the times, is against it, my lord."
"Robert, surely - we are not so many years from being boys together!"
"Thank you. Yes, Robert, I am sure that it cannot last. I have one plantation, and that I must keep because it makes me a member of the plantocracy, gives me standing in the state, but it is not right, and I will not have the boys think that it is."
"The disruption to supplies of cotton will be harmful to England, I fear."
"It will last only a few years, Robert. Planning will make it possible to survive, I expect."
Robert partly agreed - anything could be overcome, in time, but they needed a good few years yet. He would continue to put money into the pro-slavery camp, for another decade or two, while the country strengthened and made ready for the inevitable. It was not too important - slavery had existed for millennia, another twenty or thirty years would not make much difference. In any case, to talk of the 'abolition' of slavery was a nonsense; the Moslem world was full of slaves and that would never be altered - all that was changing was the status of a million or two of the myriad of bondsmen on Earth.
"I think cotton must lose its pre-eminence in America, Robert. While it is the largest single crop by value of exports, the great dollar-earner of the whole country, it has strength in Congress. When other crops and products overtake it, then the politicians must recognise where the power is. The great influx of settlers will force change - money talks, and within twenty or thirty years these new farmers will be shouting. The Plains, the lands to the west of the Mississippi, will produce wheat in huge quantities, in addition to that already growing. Corn Laws or no, the price of wheat will fall, and no government will be strong enough to force it up."
A Parade Of Virtue (A Poor Man At The Gate Series Book 9) Page 12