Foreign Mud

by Andrew Wareham

The vendor’s lawyer introduced himself.

  “I am Mr Charles Godwin, partner, of Montague and Son, Sir Alexander. We are acting for Mr Stephens during his current tribulations.”

  Bows were exchanged, all very correct, the lawyer not sharing in his client’s villainy, and certainly not admitting it.

  The agent licked his lips and nervously stepped forward.

  “Pillings, Sir Alexander, currently agent here. Might I lead you inside the house, sir, to take your ease and conduct your business around a table?”

  He was a small man, half a head shorter than me and scrawny with it, perhaps forty years of age, mousy hair thinning and shoulders hunching together. He was nervous, scared for his future. I felt mildly sorry for the poor little chap, not even claiming a Mr to his name.

  We were led inside and sat down at a long oaken table, Sir Alexander at the head in a tall chair, the rest of us dispersed to either side. A housekeeper appeared and offered tea and coffee or beer if preferred. We took tea, uniformly – a business meeting having no use for stimulants before the deal was struck.

  Godwin opened proceedings, being the vendor.

  “My principal, Mr Stephens, finds himself clapped up, as we all know, and wishes to sell his dwelling and its lands, his present circumstances being such that he would hardly wish to return to the neighbourhood on his release.”

  That seemed a strange admission to make, the attorney effectively disclosing his vendor’s weakness before a bargain could be made. I noticed Hathaway’s eyebrows to rise. I suspected that Godwin might have received a douceur from Sir Alexander.

  Hathaway smiled and confirmed that his principal was interested in making a purchase.

  “Because he has other commitments this year, Mr Godwin, it is my client’s desire to pay perhaps one quarter of the sale price in cash this day, the remainder to be passed over at the twelvemonth.”

  I wondered why Sir Alexander was to hand over as much as one quarter; perhaps the transaction had to seem above board in case of later query by the Crown.

  Mr Godwin accepted the proviso instantly – which satisfied me that he had been bought.

  “The price we have tentatively agreed is for House and outbuildings and Home Farm and all contents and arable and pasturage amounting to some four hundred and twenty acres and four rods, that being two hundred and sixty-eight thousand nine hundred and twenty-one square yards.”

  Hathaway agreed that was correct to his understanding.

  Ainslie bent to me and said that English legal practice demanded the use of the square yard to achieve precision in any contract for land.

  “The price as stated is six thousand three hundred and forty pounds sterling.”

  Mr Hathaway shook his head.

  “We must establish liability for the servants. The house – surprisingly – appears still to be fully staffed although there is no master in residence. The wages of such servants are hardly to be borne by Sir Alexander.”

  “Mrs Stephens only left the premises yesterday, Mr Hathaway. She has returned to her place of birth, taking her son and both daughters with her. The children are all minors. There is a sum in trust to her, made under the marriage settlement, that will provide her with an income and her father remains alive and willing to provide a roof for the four. They are gone off to the Midlands, to Warwickshire, I believe. She required staff in the house, naturally.”

  Hathaway made the point that her servants were her responsibility.

  Brief argument conceded that point and the sum of one hundred and thirty pounds for the quarter’s wages was deducted from the price. They agreed on six thousand two hundred and ten pounds to be correct.

  “Then the sum of one thousand five hundred and fifty-two pounds and ten shillings is to be paid this day, Mr Hathaway.”

  Mr Hathaway produced a document case and withdrew a bank draft and quill pen and ink and wrote the sum in words and figures and blotted it carefully before handing it across.

  “Drawn on the Winchester and South Hampshire Bank, Mr Godwin. If you will retain this and accompany me to my office, I shall be pleased to redeem it against gold.”

  Godwin graciously assented. The law demanded that contracts for real estate must be paid in coin – no form of paper was lawful. Most attorneys therefore exchanged bank drafts which they turned into gold in a safe place, it being unwise to carry thousands in coin about the countryside.

  “Exchange may take place as soon as the contracts are drawn up, Sir Alexander.”

  Sir Alexander smiled and produced the two written contracts he had mentioned to me.

  “You will note these are already countersigned as true bills, gentlemen. They may be exchanged immediately.”

  The lawyers met each others’ eye and winced, turned to scowl at Pillings, unwilling to break with convention in his presence.

  “I am sure that Mr Pillings’ discretion is unquestionable, gentlemen.”

  They sourly assented and signed the contracts and agreed that the sale had been made and was complete.

  The lawyers left and Sir Alexander called for the footman and his valise.

  “Mr Pillings, will you be prepared to remain as agent to the estate, taking responsibility for the house as well?”

  Pillings was happy and relieved to do so.

  “Your salary, Mr Pillings?”

  “Seventy pounds, sir, and a roof.”

  “It is now one hundred pounds per annum. What is your house?”

  “A cottage at the Home Farm, sir.”

  “Not good enough. It places you on a par with mere labourers. Who has the farmhouse?”

  “It is empty, Sir Alexander. There was a tenant whose lease came to an end three years ago. I have farmed the land since, Mr Stephens finding that more profitable.”

  “If you are the farmer, then you must occupy the house, Mr Pillings, without rent. You may spend a necessary sum to bring the place into condition – there must be work to be done after three years empty. Is the house furnished?”

  It was not.

  “You will purchase all you need, Mr Pillings, to furnish every room properly. I might suggest, sir, that a wife is normally thought proper for any house.”

  Pillings had not considered such but nervously said that he would endeavour to obey his master’s stipulation, though he was not sure where he would find such.

  “Where there is a farmhouse needing a farmwife, I do not doubt there will be volunteers for the position, Mr Pillings. Do not worry your head about that. Servants, Mr Pillings. The house is to be kept up. Retain all staff, if you will be so good. I do not doubt the house will gain a master very soon. You will need a sum in cash for your expenditure, Mr Pillings. Two hundred in gold and silver will suffice for this first and expensive quarter, I presume? Staff wages will be paid separately.”

  The little man assented in a daze, utterly amazed at such generosity. I was puzzled.

  “Mr Pillings will wish to take us on a tour of the premises, I do not doubt, Mr Jackson.”

  We solemnly inspected the house from cellars to garrets, nodding to curtseying maids, Cook and housekeeper and shaking our heads at any sign of repair needed.

  “Are there menservants, Mr Pillings?”

  “None, sir. Mr Stephens had a valet who went off when he was taken up, sir. I much suspect that he was privy to the master’s crimes, sir, and felt it wiser to be gone. I also suspect that the contents of the master’s safe went with him, sir, for I know that is empty, the door hanging open, much to the irritation of the Sheriff and his men when they came.”

  Sir Alexander laughed.

  “Like master, like man, it would seem, Mr Pillings. Not to worry – it is no responsibility of yours. Let us examine the Home Farm.”

  The Farm looked remarkably like any other agricultural property to my mind. It still does. There was a dairy and a barn and chicken runs and pigsties and a place for the haystack, vacant at this time of year. The house was of no more than four bedrooms, brick built under ancient,
wet black thatch, to Sir Alexander’s displeasure.

  “Not good enough, Mr Pillings! Change my instructions, sir. It is to be pulled down and replaced by a larger under tiles – six bedrooms and proper kitchens and such. Call in a builder within the week, sir!”

  Pillings acknowledged the order, in a faint thread of a voice, almost overcome by what he saw as an outpouring of generosity.

  The two hours passed and we took to the chaise again, Pillings bowing almost to his waist as we left.

  “Looks a competent little fellow, Mr Jackson. The big house may well be empty for much of the next few years – we need a reliable man there. Pillings has been bought well enough to be safe, I would think.”

  “The house is for Sunny, you say, sir?”

  “And for her husband when that inevitable day comes, Mr Jackson. If she still feels the same, that will be you, sir, I much trust.”

  That was blunter than I had expected, left me short of words, a rare state for me.

  “Better than you having to buy for yourself, Mr Jackson and having the advantage that the place has long been in your family’s possession and you will be a name known in the neighbourhood. Move yourself in now, Mr Jackson, and you will be well set up to perform a few tasks that may come your way. I have a need for a trusted gentleman to work for me – and you know my habits and could fit in perfectly for all I need.”

  That explained why he had wanted me to put my money in McKay’s hands – I would not have time to trade for myself.

  The question arose of whether I wished to allow Ainslie to organise my life for me.

  My first feeling was of rebellion – I was to be no man’s lackey. Later thoughts as we journeyed back to his estate suggested that I was not to spend my days as a merchant, either. I was not the sort to sit in front of a ledger, chasing down every errant farthing. Ainslie was, I knew. I could feel happier face to face with other men of affairs or chasing around with a sword and pistol in hand. I had, in fact, grown up to be a wild, irresponsible sort of fellow.

  Did I wish to change, to grow into a mature adult, respectable and dull?

  Having framed the question, it answered itself.

  I did not.

  If I was to continue in the roving way, then a house to come back to, and a small fortune in case of need, would give me freedom.

  “What am I to do for you, sir?”

  In the first instance, I was to take ship across the Atlantic, to Virginia, there to make contact with the three sons of the first marriage and ensure that all was sufficiently well with them.

  “They are not the brightest of young men, as you know, Mr Jackson. Not entirely stupid; perhaps better suited as agriculturalists than men of business. They should be settled into their plantations and I wish for them to remain in comfort and obscurity both. You are to take with you the offer of some ten thousand pounds sterling apiece against signature of a document that commits them to making no further claim against me or my estate. America is a foreign country, of course, with its own laws, so they could hardly make claim against me in England, but better to have everything documented and tidy. I am in effect disinheriting them, so must have the law clearly on my side. My heir will be my daughter – and judges will not like that and will require a very clear contract which they cannot twist to satisfy their own prejudices against the female.”

  That seemed reasonable enough. At its most simple, Ainslie did not trust the courts to work honestly - and why should he? We have a legal system that allows judges free rein to express their own prejudices as Law, and to select and cite the precedents that suit their own bias. Inevitably, judges are drawn from the wealthy and are much in favour of primogeniture and particularly of male inheritance, and they would have no hesitation in ruling against an inheriting daughter. The sole protection for Sunny must be a cast-iron contract, signed and witnessed and held by Ainslie’s attorneys where it could not be argued, or interfered with.

  It struck me that I would be working in my own interests as well, if I were to marry Sunny, which seemed not unlikely and, considering it, not undesirable. Leaving aside her financial assets, she showed every sign of growing up to be carefree, intelligent and happy – and what more could I look for in any lady?

  I was right, fortunately. We were friends and have remained so ever since. Few of the men I know can say the same in their marriages. ‘Love’ no doubt plays a part but it’s friendship that makes a couple stay happy together.

  Philosophy – at my age! I should have learned better.

  I told Ainslie that I would be happy to act as his errand boy and asked when he wanted me to take ship.

  “Not for some weeks, Mr Jackson. Let us first deal with the foolish little man, Stephens, and then settle you at Shawford. That done, we can consider an Atlantic crossing in mid-summer, return perhaps for the following spring. Having spoken with my three boys, it might not be impossible to travel up to New York and nose about for business there. One never knows what opportunities might exist in that alien city. I am told it is large and has a heterogenous population and must have much to offer the enquiring mind.”

  That was as nearly meaningless as one could get.

  Rather than demand elucidation I smiled and nodded and sat to think. The sole conclusion I could come to was that Ainslie thought there were criminal opportunities. New York being a major port, the first line of enquiry must revolve around smuggling, either into the States or from America to England.

  I could not immediately think of anything produced in the States that we might need. I accepted I had spent but very few weeks in England as an adult and that I might simply not be aware of the markets. If I kept my mouth shut and ears open, I might discover far more… Something had been said to me in Bombay relating to the American traders there, a comment more or less in passing. I could not recall exactly what.

  I cudgelled my mind for days before taking an analytical approach.

  What had I dealt in that might evoke a comparison with the American trade?

  The first answer was opium – in my last two seasons in Canton I had been the single greatest supplier of opium to the Chinese. My lord had taken it off my hands, but it had come into the hulks though my endeavours. There were Americans - almost all from New York and Boston and the lesser ports of New England, none from the South – and they had bought in Bombay and Calcutta for their own factories in Whampoa…

  And, someone, who I could not place, it might in fact have been Ainslie himself, had commented that they took a surprising amount of opium to the west, back home. The Americans were importing a significant tonnage of foreign mud for their own consumption.

  Some would be going to the legitimate medical men, no doubt, and an amount would be used by the apothecaries for their comforters, the evening doses that helped busy people sleep well and calmed fractious infants when need arose. Some amount as well would go to pipes, that was a certainty – it was not unlawful, so why not? I imagined that the authorities might disapprove of the importation of smoking opium, much as they did in China, and probably equally ineffectually.

  I was in a position to ship from Bombay to New York, being English and able to trade more freely in India than an American could and having an agent already willing to act for me.

  Ainslie later added more information on the possibilities of trade.

  “Grain, Mr Jackson, is in short supply in England these days. Its price rises every year. There are farms in America that produce surpluses of wheat and maize that come to market in all of their towns, commonly far lower than in England. There is no huge profit to be made in the trade, but it might be possible to send across cargoes of two or three hundred tons and clear a profit of perhaps two pounds a ton. Hardly worthwhile except that there are cargoes going westwards in increasing quantity – textiles mainly but also iron goods. The ships need cargoes for their return and will carry an eastbound lading for a low freight charge. If one is to charter a ship for the return voyage, there and back again, then it makes se
nse to load up with grain and make a gratis additional profit.”

  That was rational enough.

  “Thing is, though, the English producers, the Landed Interest, do not want imports that might push the price of wheat down, or stop it rising. That makes it sensible to import on the sly. There is no law against importing American grain – yet. If we keep the trade quiet, there need never be.”

  That seemed sensible. I was to buy quietly and send the laden ships back without fuss or visibility.

  I glanced at the globe in Ainslie’s library and nodded thoughtfully.

  “Ships to make port in London and Liverpool, sir – open and above board. Those coming into London will have called at Cork and the Liverpool men will make port in Londonderry or Belfast. As far as their papers are concerned, they will have made up with Irish-grown grains.”

  Ainslie was much impressed by that example of craftiness. Ireland was part of Great Britain and its ports at full liberty to trade with any other town in the country. There could be no question of foreign contamination when it came to the wheat in those hulls.

  “The Revenue Men will have nothing to say to us, and the flour millers and corn chandlers will be glad to take another three or four thousand tons a year off our hands. The profit will not be vast, but I am not to sneeze at perhaps eight thousand pounds a year.”

  No more was I, particularly on top of the rake-off from the foreign mud.

  I expressed my willingness to assist my new patron in all ways, including taking his daughter off his hands when the occasion arose and if it should.

  Chapter Eleven

  We moved into the house at Shawford, myself and Fred much outnumbered by the staff.

  I suppose I should say that I moved back into my house – the family returning triumphant over the villain who had almost destroyed us.

  Trouble is, I didn’t really care. My father had died before I could know him and I had the haziest recollection of a face that might have been my mother, could just as well have been my first nursemaid. There was nothing there for me.