Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) (7 page)

“If there is one thing I learned from the Englishmen who arrived before you, it is to settle salary negotiations before paying for passage to this country.”

“Did my English brothers give you a bit of trouble when bartering for their wages?”

Boott nodded his head in agreement. “They gave me more than a bit of trouble. They decided that unless I met their salary demands
and
provided them with housing that met their specifications, they wouldn’t work for me. I thought they were bluffing and told them I wouldn’t agree to their requirements.”

“I take it they called your bluff?”

“They did. I turned and walked away, thinking they’d knuckle under. Instead, they loaded back into their wagons and left town. I thought they would merely go a short distance and make camp, thinking I would come running after them.”

“And?” Farnsworth asked, his eyes sparkling.

“They were well into New Hampshire by the time we found them. They had no plans to return. I met their every demand as well as a few extra incentives in order to convince them to turn around. That is why I insisted we agree upon your wages prior to your departure from England. You’ll recall that I expected you to drive a hard bargain—and you didn’t disappoint me in that respect. I am, however, pleased that the matter of your wages was settled while I was in Lancashire.”

Farnsworth rose from the leather-upholstered chair and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “We came to this country at great risk. You know very well that the law was against us. We weren’t to divulge information or bring drawings related to the mills under threat of great penalties. The money had to be worth our while. After all, it would be very hard for us to return home once word got out that we’d aided the competition. I, for one, would fear the consequences.”

Matthew heard the bitterness edged with sorrow in John’s voice. He knew the man spoke truthfully. England wanted to keep America dependent upon her for textiles. The fact that Americans had taken the initiative to plan their own textile mills had not gone over well at all. The matter of Frances Lowell touring the English mills and walking away with the knowledge embedded in his memory was even more distressing.

Farnsworth put the matter behind him and pressed a question. “Why don’t we begin by talking about the calicos? I know you’ve hired me to improve the quality of your prints. How would you say they currently compare to English imports?”

Matthew glanced toward Boott, and the two of them laughed. “I apologize, Mr. Farnsworth. It’s just that when anyone asks about the quality of our calicos, we’re reminded of the story that frequently circulates about the city,” Matthew said.

“If the story gives you cause for laughter, I would enjoy hearing it,” Farnsworth responded.

Kirk nodded at Matthew. “It is said that one of the female residents of Lowell purchased a piece of Merrimack calico, intent upon making herself a new frock for special occasions. She worked diligently until she had completed her sewing. The following Sunday morning she appeared in her new dress, expecting her family to be duly impressed. Her brother, however, took one look at her and advised that it was good she was planning to wear the costume to church because that dress was certainly holier than she could ever hope to be.”

Farnsworth nodded his head in recognition but didn’t laugh. “You do have a problem, gentlemen. If the best you are currently producing is a piece of cloth that is full of holes and you’re passing it off as calico, we have much to accomplish. But accomplish the task, we will. By the time we’ve fine-tuned the Merrimack’s machinery, we’ll be producing cloth that will make the English envious.”

Boott leaned forward, focused upon Farnsworth’s words. “That’s the attitude I want to hear,” he said, slapping his hand upon his knee. “I knew you were the right man for this corporation the minute I laid eyes upon you.”

“Well, I thank you for your confidence, Mr. Boott, but there’s much work to be done before we’ll actually overtake the English. It will take your continual cooperation—and the funds for necessary changes to the equipment.”

Boott rose from his chair and came around the desk. “You’ll have no problem with either of those items. I’ll make myself available to you at any time.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that promise. Now, I believe you mentioned something about housing earlier. I would like to get settled before taking a tour of the Corporation’s holdings. I trust you’ve made arrangements for my accommodations?”

Boott appeared to squirm at the question. “I believe I may have mentioned there is an area of housing known as the English Row. It is, however, full at this time. Since I wasn’t sure what you might prefer in regard to housing, I took the liberty of seeking out a room in our best boardinghouse.”

Farnsworth was silent for a moment. Kirk pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against his forehead. The room was apparently becoming uncomfortably warm for him.

“A boardinghouse will suffice until a house can be provided, but I suspect it would be best if we address housing in my contract so that there is no misunderstanding.”

“Of course, of course,” Kirk quickly agreed.

“My father has agreed to come to America when his health improves. I would want to have adequate accommodations prior to his arrival,” Farnsworth added.

“We can begin plans for a house as soon as you tell me what you’ll need. We can add another house to the English Row—or build something else, if you prefer.”

John smiled, a faraway look in his eye. “I find it unnecessary to live alongside my English brothers. In all honesty, I’d prefer a house that had a bit of land around it for a garden such as you have out there,” he replied, gesturing toward Boott’s backyard. “Though perhaps a bit smaller. We wouldn’t want folks to think I’m trying to outshine the Corporation’s agent.”

Boott laughed, but Matthew sensed he was not completely pleased that Farnsworth wanted a home apart from the English Row. It was obvious, however, that Farnsworth’s request would not be denied.

“I have your contract here in my desk if you’d like to sign it,” Kirk offered, pulling the paper from a drawer.

John carefully folded the pages and tucked them in his coat. “Why don’t I take this with me and read it over. I’m sure it’s in proper order, but I prefer to read binding legal documents several times before signing them. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, of course,” Boott concurred. “We can meet again tomorrow—if that will give you ample time,” he quickly added.

“Tomorrow morning should be fine. Eight o’clock?”

“Yes, eight o’clock. Why don’t we meet here at my house? Once the contract has been signed, we can go down and walk through the mills.”

John nodded and rose from his chair, then hesitated. “What about a horse and carriage? I’ll be in need of transportation from time to time.”

“I can make arrangements at the livery. You’ll be able to use a carriage any time you desire,” Kirk said with a smile.

John furrowed his brows ever so slightly. “Quite frankly, I was thinking more along the lines of the Corporation furnishing me with my own horse and carriage. Of course, you could board them at the livery stable until my house is constructed. Perhaps young Matthew and I could take a look at what they have available at the livery on our way to the boardinghouse.”

“Certainly. Matthew, why don’t you stop at Kittredge’s and see if he has any good horseflesh available? Check about a carriage while you’re there, also.”

Boott and Farnsworth exchanged their good-byes with Farnsworth once again agreeing to read his contract before returning the next morning. Kirk stood on the portico watching after them as they rode off in the carriage, his earlier exuberance seeming to have waned. Matthew could only imagine what thoughts were now flying through his mentor’s mind.

The carriage had barely begun to move when Farnsworth emitted a chuckle. “Well, my boy, how do you think our meeting went?”

Matthew glanced at his companion. He wasn’t sure how to answer the question. He didn’t want to offend Farnsworth in any way—after all, he was an important asset to the Corporation. On the other hand, he didn’t want to appear disloyal to Boott. “I believe it went quite well, Mr. Farnsworth,” Matthew cautiously replied.

Farnsworth laughed a thunderous, reverberating guffaw that seemed to begin at the bottom of his feet and work itself upward until it exploded into the crisp autumn air. “Good for you, Mr. Cheever. It’s a wise man who guards his tongue with a stranger. Now, let’s see if Mr. Kittredge has any horses.”

Matthew yanked back on the reins, pulling the horses to a halt in front of the combined hardware store, wood yard, blacksmith shop, and livery stable. “The livery stable’s out back,” Matthew announced, leading Farnsworth toward the rear. “Would you look at that—what is it, I wonder?” he asked, pointing toward a huge pile of black rocks.

“Quite a mess, I’d say,” Farnsworth replied.

They could hear a number of voices in the blacksmith shop, the noise escalating as they grew nearer. “Appears you threw away forty hard-earned dollars, Kittredge,” one of the men hollered. The comment was followed by boisterous laughter.

Matthew and Farnsworth stood to the rear of the crowd, watching as Jacob Kittredge ignored the guffaws and remained intent on the task at hand. Curious, Matthew edged his way a bit farther in. Moments later he returned to where John was standing. “He’s trying to set fire to some of those black rocks—doesn’t seem to be working.”

Kittredge appeared undaunted as he remained focused upon the task at hand. Soon the observers lost patience and began leaving the building, which allowed John and Matthew adequate space to move closer. The black rocks were piled in an open grate, where Kittredge was doggedly attempting to set them on fire.

“You ain’t never gonna get them things to burn,” Henry Likens called from the back of the shop. “You shoulda never believed that lawyer from Salem.”

Kittredge didn’t acknowledge the remark. In fact, he acted as though he were alone in the room. Matthew strode back to where Henry stood. “Why’s he trying to burn those rocks, Henry?”

“Some lawyer from up in Salem told him about black rocks from Pennsylvania that are supposed to burn. Said they could be used for fuel instead of wood. So ol’ Jacob, he ordered two tons—forty dollars worth. Now he can’t even get a spark going with ’em. He would have gotten more heat from setting his money afire.”

When Matthew returned, Farnsworth was standing beside Jacob Kittredge, using a hammer to break up the black rocks. Jacob was now starting a fire with tinder and several larger pieces of wood. Once the fire was going, Farnsworth and Kittredge began placing the broken black rocks upon the fire until they’d covered the wood fire with two bushels of the small rocks. Matthew was amazed as he watched the rocks begin to take on a reddish-orange glow, the fire growing hotter by the minute. The horses, obviously sensing the fire and increasing heat, became skittish, kicking at their stalls, snorting, and neighing until several men rushed to get water to douse the hot coals. Still the fire continued. Finally Henry directed the men into a bucket brigade, and after several attempts they were able to exact enough water to calm the coals from a raging fire to glowing embers.

“What kind of rocks are those?” Matthew’s voice was filled with amazement.

“Coal,” Farnsworth simply replied. “Quite a fuel. My guess is that one day it will replace wood. Now, then, do you suppose Mr. Kittredge might be able to assist us with a horse since the excitement has died down a bit?”

“I’m certain he would be pleased to do so. After all, you certainly came to his rescue when the others were willing to stand back and laugh.”

By the time Matthew and John Farnsworth left the livery stable, John was the proud owner of a fine black mare and a carriage that any man would be pleased to own. He was also the recipient of Jacob Kittredge’s abiding loyalty.

“You can rest assured that your horse will receive the best of care, Mr. Farnsworth. Anytime you want your horse and carriage, you just send someone down here to tell me. I’ll make sure it’s ready at the appointed time. You’ve got my word on that, sir,” Jacob said as he walked alongside his departing customers. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out. I was beginning to think I had been bamboozled out of my money. I fear the townsfolk wouldn’t have permitted me to live down such an error.”

“You are welcome, Mr. Kittredge, but I’m sure you would have finally compared the coal to tinder and wood, realizing that the smaller chunks might burn more easily. It appears as if you made a sound investment.”

Kittredge nodded. “Thankfully so. And you’ve made a sound investment in that mare. She’s a beauty.”

Farnsworth shook Kittredge’s outstretched hand and hoisted himself into the carriage while Matthew took up the reins. “I feel certain that by nightfall the good citizenry of Lowell will be well acquainted with the name of John Farnsworth,” Matthew said as they moved down the street.

“Notoriety is the last thing I’m seeking,” Farnsworth muttered. “Where are we off to now?”

“Number 7 Jackson Street. It’s the boardinghouse operated by Miss Mintie Beecher. We selected Miss Beecher’s house as she is reputed to operate the best boardinghouse in the city of Lowell. I’m told there are men who have offered to pay a handsome sum for room and board with Miss Mintie.”

“In that case, how does it happen that there’s a space available?” John inquired with a twinkle in his eye.

“One of the men was willing to give up his bed.”

John’s eyebrows arched and his lips gathered into a thoughtful pucker. “Really? In exchange for what?”

“A tidy sum of money, combined with the promise he would receive the next available opening at Miss Mintie’s.”

“I see. Well, then, let us hope that it won’t take too long for my house to be completed. After all, I don’t want to be the cause of a man being forced to give up his bed.”

“There was no forcing involved, Mr. Farnsworth. The gentleman understood it would most likely be a good span of time before he returned to Miss Mintie’s. All of the men are aware that boarders just don’t leave her house, and I was forthright in explaining that the Corporation had not yet begun construction of your house.”