The Pain Of Privilege: A Poor Man at the Gate Series, #4

The Electronic Book Company

––––––––

A New York Times Best-seller

Listed Publisher

––––––––

www.theelectronicbookcompany.com

––––––––

www.facebook.com/quality.ebooks

––––––––

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

––––––––

Copyright © 2014 by Andrew Wareham

All Rights Reserved

Contents:

––––––––

Copyright Page

Scene Setter

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Book Five in the Series

Scene Setter

––––––––

The Pain of Privilege continues the story of small-time fisherman and petty smuggler, Tom Andrews, who in earlier adventures, escaped from England to avoid the hangman’s noose. He was shanghaied onto a privateering ship. The privateer sailed to the Caribbean and enjoyed success before Tom fled to New York, accompanied by Joseph Star, a part Carib freeman. Carrying a large amount of booty they devised illicit ways to make more money, until they were betrayed and were forced to return to England. They settled in industrial Lancashire at the beginning of the first great industrial boom; as unscrupulous businessmen they quickly became wealthy. This wealth allowed Tom to buy a landed estate and soon after moving in to his new home, he met the beautiful, Lady Verity Masters, the daughter of an impoverished local aristocrat.

In The Pain of Privilege, Tom and Lady Verity set out their plans for the family and intend to place their dynasty in a position of economic, social and political leadership in England. All seems to be going smoothly until tragedy strikes.

Introduction

––––––––

Tom and Lady Verity intend to place their dynasty in a position of economic, social and political leadership in England. Captain Matthew Star returns to England and makes a love match with their daughter, Charlotte, much to her mother’s displeasure. There is social unrest in the country and riots become commonplace. The problem of unemployment in and around Tom’s estate is solved by encouraging a shipload of local families to emigrate to America. Henry Star continues to prosper in New Orleans, operating mostly on the fringes of legality. Tom’s life seems idyllic until tragedy strikes.

Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated The Pain of Privilege in a style reflecting English usage in novels of the Georgian period, when typically, sentences were much longer than they are in modern English. Editor’s Note:  Andrew’s book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

––––––––

Book Four: A Poor Man

at the Gate Series

––––––––

Chapter One

––––––––

Will you go as secretary to Mr Walker, Robert?

Perhaps not, sir, I am known to most political figures now and have, to be honest, little liking for any of the breed – I have achieved all that I needed and can now keep my hands clean. What I would prefer, with your permission, and Mama’s endorsement, is to spend some little time, a few months, a year or two, at the bank. Mr Goldsmid has already said that he would be very glad to welcome me into his halls so that I might gain some familiarity with banking practices and particularly with his overseas correspondents.

Robert hesitated, obviously deciding whether this was the right moment to continue, to enter a possibly difficult discussion with his father. He made his mind up, he had to tell the Old Man sooner or later – better get it over with.

He is quite sure, Papa, that numbers of wealthy Jews from Russia and the German States will wish to seek refuge here or in the Americas in the next decade or two. It is the case that some few of the prominent revolutionaries of the last age have been Jews and that has tarred every Hebrew with the red brush and given a perfect excuse to every ruler from Koln to St Petersburg. In this it would seem that Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox are uniquely united – none of them can resist the opportunity to first rob and then kill a Jew!

And your role, my son? Tom was mildly disturbed to hear of the tribulations of European Jewry – he liked Lady Rothwell and had a respect for her father, but he was not inclined to lead a Crusade to their relief. If they were rich then it was up to them to save themselves, they could always buy the services of mercenaries, after all. He did not wish to hear that his son was proposing to take an active role in persuading government in Prussia and Russia to change its ways – he had no desire for any of the family to unwittingly tread on the toes of His Britannic Majesty’s diplomats.

My role will to be known, sir, simply that. If you are a foreign banker or merchant or insurer or goldsmith, say, and you fear for your future in the land where your family has lived for generations, your only home, as you thought, then it is a great step to take off into the completely unknown – it might be frying-pan for fire, after all! If, however, there is a young lord who is a point of contact, a nobleman, no less, then you may feel more confident in emigrating because there will be a friend to help you pass into the country and settle in a new business community and gain the friendship of the authorities. Being young, of course, he will be available for many years. We can use their gold, sir, we need it, in fact. There is a shortage of capital and of real money which is hampering business; this damned silly war came close to bankrupting us, as you know.

Tom nodded – the points his son had made were all true and there would always be a welcome for rich foreigners. He hoped they would not have a plethora of poor relations to bring in their train, however.

Well and good, but what do you gain, Robert?

Knowledge, sir, in the first instance – I will know how money works; I will be given the first word of any and every opportunity that may arise. Secondly, I will gain the good will of the bankers, who must become of greater importance to the country over my lifetime...

Robert paused, selecting his words carefully.

And thirdly, sir?

I spoke with young Joseph while he was here, Papa, and he is convinced that there will be steam trackways crossing the whole country within ten or twenty years. He will not be one of their builders, he says, he is more concerned with the needs of the manufacturies and pits, but there will be an expansion that will make the Canal Boom look like the merest nothing. If he is right, and I firmly believe he is, then I hope, with your concurrence, sir, to be in a position to be a major financier and owner and profit-taker from this great boom.

So, not the genteel agricultural life on the Lutterworth estate, my son?

No, sir. Robert coughed, looked distinctly uncomfortable, squared his shoulders manfully. We should also, sir, suggest to Mama that we might reconsider our plans for my wife.

Tom winced, shook his head in dismay.

A lady from outside of the ranks of the blue-blooded, my son?

More than that, sir. I am given to understand that Mr Goldsmid has a cousin, a ‘great banker’, residing in Hamburg who has a daughter of seventeen or so, probably a well-educated, refined young lady. Mr Ignaz would be very happy to relocate to London, with all of his vast fortune, was the family to be ‘settled’ with an English relative. Financially, of course, the gains would be enormous, to family as much as to the country.

When do you go back to London, Robert?

In two days, sir.

Then say nothing of this to your mother today, if you please, I will consider the question and how best to present it to her.

It was clear to Tom that the Andrews dynasty now faced a choice of directions. If Robert married into the banking world then they would become outsiders within another generation, not a part of the traditional aristocracy and separated from its political power, whereas if he made a conventional match then he could become a kingmaker with access to Downing Street at any time. If, however, he did choose to become an outsider, then he would be part of the new England, would be ideally placed to become a founding member of any new elite that created itself, and times were changing, even if very slowly. If Reform should come, and surely it must, then the old powers must be replaced by new, even if the new were essentially the same people in a different guise.

He could not be coerced into a marriage he had decided he did not want, and Tom wanted no breach with his son, he found he had too strong an affection for him to risk that.

How would Verity react?

Badly.

I had thought we had agreed on Robert’s future, my lord! I have indeed already spoken, obliquely, fortunately, to my cousin Cavendish, and I know that the Daventrys, almost the richest family in England, have two daughters to bring out over the next three years.

Not them, Verry! Bad blood, there! The heir is a Beggar’s Club wastrel; the father was a drunken fool as a youth and is now a recluse, and the grandfather, I am told, died raving mad locked up in an attic with a pair of male attendants permanently to hand.

Yes, well, not them, necessarily, but there are several other young ladies of impeccable lineage and fortune and Robert could be the prize of the Season next year or thereafter, able to choose as he would!

And Verity, as Mama of the most eligible of young gentlemen would be leader of Society, for a few weeks – a beguiling thought, it would seem. Tom would also find himself caressed by the Polite World – something that she would value even if he did not.

He had prepared his ground thoroughly, marshalled all of his arguments.

I was thinking more of the future, my dear, of our grandchildren and their offspring. Little altered in the country from the restoration of Charles Stuart until the mills and mines were built in the North Country, a hundred years of stability. But now I have doubts that the world will be in any way the same in even twenty years time. The pace of change is so great that we can only say that things will be different, in what way, we cannot specify. The possession of wealth will still mean power, I suspect, so money becomes more important than old breeding, probably – but nothing is certain! James will be an eligible young officer in ten years time and, was he to be made free of the Lutterworth lands, he could perhaps marry ‘well’, so coppering our bets. Robert, married into wealth greater than Rothwell’s and the heir to much of the Andrews’ fortune, would always be sure to become a power in the land. What of Joseph? If he is wed to Mary Star then he has a place in the industrial ranks second to none. The three then have a foothold in Finance, the Land and the new Industry – surely a desirable thing for the Family!

Charlotte seems to play no part in this, Thomas?

I would wish her to play the part she desires, my dear. For the man, an arranged marriage is of little concern, after all. Rothwell, for example, is happy enough in his life and has, I suspect, developed an affection for his lady. Robert has his Judy, and will, I think, keep her for many, many years. For a woman, all is different: Charlotte, if she made a marriage of convenience, would be called a whore if she kept a lover of her choice as well. Therefore, I would have her follow her heart, wherever it might lead her.

I trust it may lead her in the same direction as her head, my love!

Verity was silent a while, trying to assess all that Tom had said and to put it into a new frame of reference, preferably one that might demonstrate its fallibility.

What if James falls in battle, Thomas?

What if the plague takes us all, my love?

Unanswerable – it was sometimes a damned nuisance to be intelligent.

Well, at least Thomas Star has married unexceptionably, and the Stars are generally held to be very closely related to us so that gives us some respectability! And, as well, I suspect that theirs will be a very happy union, both being of a temperate nature they will be easy company one for another, will be caressed by Society as a result.

Tom was surprised; he had not heard that he and Joe were kinsmen.

Yes, quite well known – that ill-informed gossip, Sally Jersey again, I suspect – apparently, you and Lord Star share a mother who remarried, quite possibly scandalously soon after her first husband’s death and so kept quiet, and you are half-brothers. Hence the long and clear affection between you and the continuing close ties of the families. It is ‘known’, how I have not been informed, that Lord Star saved your life at least once during the wars, at risk of his own, and that you have shared your greater business acumen with him since.

Bloody nonsense! Joe is far more of a businessman than I could ever be.

Then how do you come to be the wealthier, Thomas?

I provided our initial capital, my love. I stole it.

Oh!

He told her the story, in long detail, though neglecting to mention the existence of his two illegitimate sons – he thought she might prefer not to know about them.

I had wondered, she said, eventually, whether we might not visit Weymouth this winter or next, the resort being fashionable as it is, but perhaps the family should avoid the Dorset coast during your lifetime. Had you any relatives there?

My father had a brother, I believe, but they had drifted apart and I do not think I ever met him. For my mother – her name I believe was Ellis, but I knew no more of her than that. I am sure we could go to Weymouth with very few fears.

It was very strange to her, knowing as she did her own kin to the twice removed level and able to name her relationship to most of the leaders of the land, if only at the level of the sister of a cousin’s wife having married a nephew of the gentleman in question.

––––––––

James appeared on furlough, brown from the Tropical sun, thin, lined by pain, much, much older, more mature even. Verity wept over his hand, clasped him to her in a very rare public display of affection, almost frightening to him. He told his story, limpingly, he had no facility with words, had to be drawn and prompted for almost every sentence, but he said enough to make it clear that he was a soldier, concerned for his men and his honour and very little else. Asked what he wished to do next, he made mention of having heard of campaigns in Burma and Ceylon, and, of course, there was always action in India.

And you want more action, my son?

I am a Rifleman, Mama, and we have no place on the parade ground, standing guard and looking pretty! Where there is work to be done is where you should find us, I have been told, and, besides, I like the life away from barracks much better. During more than six months on the African expedition I ordered no man flogged, Mama, and stopped rum not half a dozen times. In barracks in the same time I would have stood watching ten thousand lashes, I doubt not. Bored soldiers are bad soldiers, and I wish to stay with the good, Mama.

Tom agreed – action was always better for the men.

So, three months at home, do you think? Will you accompany us in London? Charlotte would like to have you at her side, I doubt not, next to Robert and acting as her escort, and you would meet a number of useful contacts, possibly make friends who will stand you in good stead over the years. You will meet senior men, colonels and brigadiers and major-generals who will be looking for officers to accompany them on various commands at one time or another and who might remember your name.

James had not thought that far into the future, pondered Tom’s words, came to see their value – as captain or major, a place on the staff of a successful expedition would do him a great deal of good, would further his career. Fighting officers with good contacts were certain to be employed as generals, not shunted off into command of insignificant garrisons but used in the field, and that was why he had become a soldier, or so he was coming to believe.

Yes, sir. I would like to go to Town with you. When, next month? These fingers should be tidily healed by then, I expect. Do you think I should wear a glove in company?

The last question was asked anxiously – he had obviously been pondering the question of deformity. Tom hastened to reassure him.

Not at my side, my son! Unless you feel I should wear a muffler across my cheek?

James had forgotten his father’s scars – they were so much a part of the man he was that he never noticed them. His fingers would be the same, he realised, an unimportant part of him.

It will be a good thing for me, sir, to go into Society at your side, rather than be introduced as another insignificant young officer making his bow. It will be easier for me. Will I know many of the people there, do you think?

The Stars will be in Town, my lord and lady and Thomas and his bride certainly. Matthew may well be returned from the Indian station by then and I would expect him to join them. John Star is known to be dead, by the way. Of Henry, we know nothing still, but if he was in John’s company then he must have died with him.

James shook his head decidedly.

No, sir – John had no love for Brother Henry! He might have told him he was going to Canada, say, but I very much doubt that Henry would have found him there. Knowing Henry, he will have fallen on his feet in any case; more likely, he will have landed on someone else’s feet!

Tom chuckled approvingly at what must have been James’ first ever attempt at wit – the boy had grown up on campaign!

You know the young Stars better than I, of course, James. What did you think of John?

James reddened; he had never been asked his opinion of a fellow man before, not in a meaningful way. It seemed to him that there was a reason behind his father’s question, that he was obligated to answer carefully and fully. His first reaction was to say that John had been a jolly good egg and would be much missed, but a schoolboy response was not what was wanted. He thought a few seconds.

"I never really liked him, Papa – even though he always set himself up to be liked – it always seemed to me that he wanted me to think well of him, in case he needed me one day. He was like that with everyone he met, I think. The families, the boys, came together for a month at least every year, as you know, sir, and I always knew that Thomas was glad to see us, thought of all three of us as his brothers, but John saw us as rich Lord Andrews’ sons who could be very useful one day."

Tom was intrigued – he had not credited James with any powers of insight.

What of the others?

Bob and Matt and Mark and Luke – all good friends. Matt I hardly knew, being at sea, but what I saw I liked, sir – a strong man!

What of Henry? You did not like him, it would seem.

He does not know what is right and what is wrong, sir. John would do wrong, would break the law if he saw a gain, knowing that he was being a criminal. Henry would do the same without thinking about it and would be surprised and angry at the law officer who took him up – ‘he was only doing what he had to’, so he would say.

I must remember never to do business with Henry then, for he could never be trusted in any contract.

Yes, sir – yet Thomas would die before he broke his word. All three growing up together, the same parents, tutors, religion. Why so different, sir?

Damned if I know, my son! You, Joseph and Robert – the same could be said of you – not for trust, of course, not that! But you are three different men, that’s for sure!

It occurred to Tom as he said it that they were men, not his boys any longer – he was getting old!

Will Joseph be with us in London, Papa?

Tom shook his head, gave a brief account of Joseph’s recent career, joined James’ shocked – and somewhat envious – laughter.

I will visit with him, if I may, sir? A few days after London and before I go to my next posting.

He would be glad to see you, I doubt not – he is too young to be independent, his own man, but too intelligent and active to be a boy at home – he needs his family about him, but not so close as to smother him. I am sure he will wish to show you off at his Manufacturers’ Club – fighting soldiers are rare beasts there, for certain. He will also be very happy to dazzle you with his science – the younger brother leading his elder through the maze, you know! I would like you to go to him, would be very pleased to see you both remaining friends as grown men – it is easy for brothers to grow apart. On that note, by the way, you might give some thought to the art of letter-writing – if you go out to India, or Ceylon or Burma, you may expect to be away for seven years and another six months travelling each way. Your mother would value your correspondence, as, indeed, would I!

James promised to be good; his father suggested that he might think of writing a few lines every day, a diary as it were, which he could bundle up every two or three months – it might be easier than trying to sit down pen in hand for two or three hours at a time.

––––––––

Word from my son, my lord, a sensible and detailed proposal for our people – I am quite amazed!

Tom made no comment, waited for Quillerson to continue.

He suggests that our emigrants should take themselves to the north of New York State, towards the border with Canada where there is good farming land in plenty but also, importantly, there is a canal being forwarded, both to take folk inland and to ship produce to the City and provide a route to the Great Lakes. He says that wheat and corn may be grown there, as well as apples and hogs in profusion. He believes that a prosperous, thriving community might be formed with as little as twenty years of hard work and application. I never thought to hear of him advocating hard work, my lord!

It comes to us all in the end, Quillerson. Has he identified an actual location?

He has, with the aid of a gentleman named, let me see, Colonel Miller, earmarked some forty ‘sections’ which our people may move into and register as their own – a procedure that is perhaps a fraction out of the ordinary way of doing things, but acceptable to us.

Inevitable that Miller would become involved, and it made it important that the Andrews interest should not be seen to be implicated in the failure of his Central American schemes, whatever they might be. It was just possible, in fact, that his plans might have to be brought to some degree of success – not as far as an independent arch-dukedom of his own, but to some reasonable profit. Tom hated being used, manoeuvred, in this fashion, but Miller had cornered him and there was no profitable alternative to working with the man. He scribbled a brief note to himself to inform Robert of the new circumstances.

Forty families, Quillerson, can we identify them and send them off this year?

More than that, my lord – my son writes that there should, ideally, be forty of farmers but also, to set up in a village, each family with a smaller ‘lot’ for kitchen gardens and firewood, a smith, a miller, perhaps a storekeeper, a reverend gentleman and possibly a saddler and boot and harness-maker. The miller must also have another craft – perhaps a brewer or cider-maker would be sensible, he says. The smith must be able to serve as wagon-maker and the reverend will, of course, be a schoolmaster as well, and it would be useful if he had some knowledge of medicine. It is possible that the smith might wish to bring a journey-man with him as carpenter, the two working together sensibly. He says that there are small deposits of coal and iron known throughout the hills of the area. The winters are cold so coal fires would be reasonable.

A letter to Mr Mason would be a good idea, from the sound of it; a mining man would be useful to them. Can we find the others?

All except the reverend gentleman, my lord – I have the names of fifty men who wish to go, and who will be capable of achieving some success.

Ask each to come to see me, Quillerson, half an hour apiece over the next fortnight.

––––––––

Tom felt obliged to speak to each of the emigrants who he was, indirectly at least, encouraging to leave his home land almost certainly never to return, never to see parents or brothers and sisters in the rest of their lives. He knew that the expression ‘Go West’ was being used as a synonym for death in common parlance, for those who went west never came back again. Some of them would die, some of them would fail – they might even, possibly, face starvation, unable to cope with unexpected demands in a new, harsh environment. Some of them, of course, could well become rich, owners of great tracts of the new lands, but they were taking a huge risk, not always entirely willingly. Their children would almost certainly benefit to a greater extent, the old paradox of service – one generation suffered and died that another might gain, an irrational altruism when one considered it. Small wonder that the weak turned to religion, hoping to make their profit in the afterlife, he presumed.

They came, some almost belligerently, others hesitantly, wondering if they were wise, the bulk resigned to the need, knowing that they could not stay and preferring the stories they had heard of America to the tales of life in the new industrial towns of the North Country, an equally distant, foreign place to Northamptonshire hicks.

Younger sons of all of his tenants, two Barneys, one each of Bass, Eakins and Mudge; two of Denham’s daughters with their newly acquired husbands, one of his sons; thirty others from the village and thereabouts. None chose to back out when sat down in the estate office and talked to by my lord in person, few showed any great pioneering enthusiasm either, but they would settle down to hard labour, that Tom became