On Friday, April the third, 1789, a ticketing took place in the upstairs dining room of the Red Lion Inn. The low-paneled room was already set out for the customary dinner that was to follow.
There were about thirty men, grouped in chairs around an oblong table raised on a wooden dais by the window. Eight of the men represented eight copper companies. The others were managers or pursers of the mines offering the ore. As was the custom, the chair was taken by the manager of the mine who had the largest parcel to offer, and that day, it fell upon Richard Tonkin.
He sat at the middle of the table, with the ticket offers in heaps before him and flanked by a representative of the miners and the smelters. The faces of the men were grave and there was little of the good-humored raillery of prosperous times. Copper—the refined product—was fetching fifty-seven pounds a ton.
As the clock struck one, Tonkin got up and cleared his throat.
“The auction is open, gentlemen. There are no further offerings? Very good. I have first to dispose of a dole of ore from Wheal Busy.”
With the two men beside him to supervise he opened the first lot of tickets and entered the bids in a ledger. One or two men shuffled their feet and the purser of Wheal Busy took out his notebook expectantly.
After a few moments, Tonkin looked up.
“Wheal Busy ore is sold to the Carnmore Copper Company for six pounds seventeen shillings and sixpence a ton.”
There was a moment’s silence. One or two men looked around. Ross saw an agent frown and another whisper.
Tonkin went on. “Tresavean. Sixty tons.”
He opened the second box. There was another consultation as the figures were written in the ledger.
Tonkin cleared his throat. “Tresavean ore is sold to the Carnmore Copper Company for six pounds seven shillings a ton.”
Mr. Blight of the South Wales Copper Smelting Company got up.
“What name did you say, Mr. Tonkin?”
“Tresavean.”
“No. The name of the buyers.”
“Carnmore Copper Company.”
“Oh,” Blight said, hesitated, then sat down.
Tonkin picked up his list again, and for a few minutes the auction went on as before.
“Wheal Leisure,” Tonkin said. “Parcel of red copper. Forty-five tons.”
The man on Tonkin’s right leaned across to look at the bids.
“Wheal Leisure ore is sold to the Carnmore Copper Company for eight pounds two shillings a ton.”
Several men looked at Ross. Ross looked at the end of his riding crop and smoothed down a piece of frayed leather. Outside in the yard they could hear an ostler swearing at a horse.
There was some talk at the table before Tonkin read out the next name. But he had his way and went on, “United Mines. Three doles of ore. Fifty tons in each.”
Entries in the ledger.
“United Mines,” said Tonkin. “First parcel to Carnmore at seven pounds one shilling a ton. Second parcel to Carnmore at six pounds nineteen shillings and sixpence. Third parcel to the South Wales Smelting Company at five pounds nine shillings and ninepence.”
Blight was on his feet again, his raddled little face sharp under its wig, like a terrier that has been shown the bait once too often.
“Sir, I dislike to intervene. But may I say that I do not know of the existence of any such smelting company as the Carnmore?”
“Oh,” said Tonkin. “I am assured it exists.”
“How long has it existed?” asked another man.
“That I could not say.”
“What proof have you of its bona fides?”
“That,” said Tonkin, “will very soon be put to the proof.”
“Not until next month when payment is due,” said Blight. “Then you may find yourselves with all these parcels of ore still on your hands.”
“Aye! Or collected unpaid for.”
Tonkin stood up again. “I think, gentlemen, we may ignore the last danger. Personally I do not see that as mining agents we can afford to offend a newcomer among our clients by—by casting doubts on his good faith. There have been newcomers in the field before. We have always taken them on their merits and have not been disappointed. It is not five years since we first welcomed the South Wales Copper Smelting Company among us, and that firm has become one of our largest buyers.”
“At starvation prices,” said someone sotto voce.
Blight was on his feet again. “We came into the field, I may remind Mr. Tonkin, vouched for by two other companies and with a guarantee from Warleggan’s Bank. Who is standing guarantee here?”
There was no answer.
“Who is their agent?” demanded Blight. “You must have had contact with someone. If he is here, let him declare himself.”
There was silence.
“Ah,” said Blight, “as I thought. If—”
“I’m the agent,” said someone behind him. He turned and stared at a small, roughly dressed man in the corner by the window. He had blue-gray eyes, freckles across the bridge of a large, intelligent nose, a humorous mouth and chin. He wore his own hair, which was reddish-gone-gray and cut short after the fashion of a working man.
Blight looked him up and down. He saw that he had to deal with a person in an inferior class.
“What is your name, my man?”
“Martin.”
“And your business here?”
“Agent for the Carnmore Copper Company.”
“I have never heard of it.”
“Well, that’s a surprise to me. Chairman up there’s been talking of nothing else since one o’clock.”
One of the copper agents beside Tonkin rose.
“What is your purpose, sir, in bidding for this great quantity of copper?”
“Same as yours, sir,” said Zacky respectfully. “To smelt it and sell it in the open market.”
“I take it you are the agent for a—a newly formed company.”
“That’s so.”
“Who are your employers? Who finances you?”
“The Carnmore Copper Company.”
“Yes, but that’s a name,” said Blight. “Who are the men who make up and control this company? Then we shall know where we stand.”
Zacky Martin fingered his cap. “I think ’tis for they to choose whether to give out their names or no. I’m but their agent—same as you—making bids on their behalf—same as you—buying copper for ’em to smelt—same as you.”
Harry Blewett could sit by no longer. “Do we yet know the names of the shareholders of the South Wales Smelting Company, Blight?”
Blight blinked at him a moment. “Are you behind this scheme, Blewett?”
“No, answer your own question first!” shouted another manager.
Blight turned on him. “You know well that we came in fully vouched for by friends. ’Tisn’t our reputation that’s in question, and—”
“Nor neither is it theirs! Let ’em default, and then you can talk!”
Tonkin rapped on the table. “Gentlemen, gentlemen. This is no way to behave…”
Blight said, “When was the samples taken, Tonkin? Not when all the other agents went around. There must be collusion in this. There was no stranger among us when any of the sampling was done.”
“I mistook the day,” Zacky said. “I come around the day after and was kindly allowed the opportunity to sample them by myself. ’Twas no benefit to the mines.”
“That’s not fair doing, Mr. Tonkin. There’s some sort of collusion in this—”
“Fair enough,” said Aukett, squinting horribly in his excitement. “What’s there amiss in it? No collusion such as might be set at the door of certain interests I could mention—”
“Who are you—”
“Now, look ’ee here,” said Zacky Martin, in a quiet voice that gradually made itself heard because everyone wanted to listen. “Look ’ee here, Mister Blight. And you other gentlemen too that seem a shade set about by me and my doings. I’ve no mind to be awkward or to put a stave in anyone’s wheel, see? I want everything amiable and aboveground. Me and my friends is thinkin’ of starting a little smelting works of our own, see, and we did think to buy up some o’ the copper today just to lay in a little store handy-like.”
“Smelting works? Where?”
“But we didn’t think to set the other companies by the ears—far from it. That’s not our way. And if so be as we’ve bought more’n our share today—well, I reckon I’ll take it on myself to sell back a parcel or two to any of you other companies that are disposed to buy it. In a friendly fashion as the saying goes; no bones broke or harm meant. At the price I give today. No profit wanted. I’ll be at the next ticketing and buy more then.”
Ross saw Blight’s expression change. One of the other brokers began to speak, but Blight interrupted him.
“So that’s the game, eh? More than ever this stinks of arrangement. A pretty scheme, eh, to hoist the prices and put the legitimate dealers in a false box. No, my man, you and your friends—and I doubt not there’s some here today—will have to think of another contrivance to catch us old hands. Keep your ore and take it to your new smelting works and pay for it at the end of the month, else, you’ll have all the mine managers whining to you before ten o’clock of the following day!”
Johnson got up, nearly cracking his big head on the beam above him. “There’s no call for abuse, Blight. And if so be the money does not forthcome, we’ll not come whining to you!”
Richard Tonkin rapped the table again.
“Let us complete the auction.”
That time he had his way, and quietness reigned until all the ore was sold. About two-thirds of the total—all the best quality stuff—was bought by the Carnmore Company. It was a transaction that amounted to some five thousand pounds.
Then everyone sat down to dinner together.
It was the first real clash there had been between the two sides of the industry. Most of the grumbling had been done in private corners. After all, the copper companies were the customers, and one did not in common sense seek out quarrels with such folk.
Zacky Martin sat some distance from Ross. They caught each other’s eye once, but no gleam of recognition showed.
There was less talk than usual; men spoke together in lowered tones and with some constraint. But the wine had its effect, and the quarrel (and the deep rift of bitterness lying under the quarrel) was temporarily put away. There was little said of affairs outside the county. Their own shadows loomed too large. The countryside was emerging from the worst winter in living memory—worst for conditions of life and one of the severest for weather. During January and February, all Europe had lain under an icy hand, and even in Cornwall there had been weeks of frost and black east winds. It was April and the worst was over, men’s minds turned to more hopeful things, not only to the summer ahead, but also to the chance of a kinder working life. Search where you would, there were no signs of a betterment, but at least it was spring.
The agent of one of the older copper companies, a bluff, rugged man named Voigt, told of the riots there had been in Bodmin the previous week.
“It were only a chance I was there,” he said. “Just passing through in the coach. A mercy I’m alive, I assure you. They stopped the coach afore it reached the inn because they’d heard there was a corn factor within. Happily he’d not traveled, but we suffered who had. Out we was dragged with no ceremony and small comfort, and smash went the coach, over on its side, glass and woodwork breaking, horses kicking in the road. Then some rascals put hammers to the wheels, and they were in pieces in no time. A good fortune for me I had not the opulence to be mistook for him they wanted, but a merchant from Helston was upended and rough-handled before they knew their mistake. I was relieved when they let us go.”
“Was there much damage in the town?”
“Oh, yes, of a light nature. There was looting too and some who tried to stop ’em was ill-used. Even when the military came, they showed fight and had to be drove off like in a pitched battle.”
“There’ll be hangings for that,” said Blight. “Some example must be made.”
“They took half a hundred of them into custody,” said Voigt. “The jail’s filled to overflowing.”
Ross’s eyes met Zacky’s for the second time that day. They were both thinking of Jim Carter, whose time of discharge was drawing near. The jail had been full enough before.
Ross did not look at Zacky again. Neither did he speak to Richard Tonkin or Blewett or Aukett or Johnson after the dinner. Curious eyes would be watching.
He left the inn and walked around to see Harris Pascoe. The banker rose to greet Ross and diffidently inquired how the purpose of the day had gone.
Ross said, “You will have drafts of about four thousand eight hundred pounds to pay on the Carnmore account next month.”
Pascoe pursed his lips. “You b-bought more than you expected?”
“We bought all we could while the price was low. Once they realize we are in earnest they will likely try to outbid us. But with that stock we shall be safe for some months.”
“Was there any inquiry?”
Ross told him. Pascoe fumbled rather nervously with the snuff-stained cambric of his stock. He was in the scheme as their banker, but he had no stomach for conflict. He was in all his dealings a man of peace, using his own money for principled ends, but not caring to defeat the unprincipled. He liked to look on money in an academic way: figures to be squared with other figures, balances to be brought to an equilibrium; it was the mathematics of his business that appealed to him most of all. Therefore while applauding the intention of the group of men, he was nervous lest they should become a worry and a disturbance to his peace of mind.
“Well,” he said at length, “there you have the first responses of the agents and other small fry. I fancy that the men behind them will express their disapproval more subtly. The next ticketing will be the testing time. I doubt if you’ll ever provoke an overt protest again.”
“The essential thing is to keep them mystified,” Ross said. “Some of the facts will leak out quickly enough with Zacky Martin living on my land and the smelting works being built on Trevaunance property.”
“It is surprising that the smelting works has been kept a secret so long.”
“Well, all the components were shipped direct and housed around the disused pilchard cellars. Sir John put out the story that it was a new engine for his mine.”
Pascoe drew toward him a sheet of paper and made two more brief entries on it with his scratchy quill. It was the first printed billhead of the Carnmore Copper Company, and on it in watery ink the banker had entered all the particulars of the company. He had begun with the chief shareholders.
Lord Devoran
Sir John Michael Trevaunance, Bart.
Alfred Barbary, Esq.
Ray Penvenen, Esq.
Ross Vennor Poldark, Esq.
Peter St. Aubyn Tresize, Esq.
Richard Paul Cowdray Tonkin
Henry Blewett
William Trencrom
Thomas Johnson
An imposing list. The company was floated with a capital of twenty thousand pounds, of which twelve thousand pounds was paid up and the rest on call. They were also going into business as merchants, to supply the mines with all the stuff of their trade. It would give them a small steady basis of business to rely on outside the main object of the company.
Pascoe knew that there were men who would be very interested to see that sheet of paper. It would be better locked up. He rose and went to his safe in the corner of the room.
“You’ll take t-tea with us, Captain Poldark? My wife and daughter are expecting you.”
Ross thanked him but said no. “Forgive me, but to get home in good time from one of these days is a treat I look forward to. It has been all riding this winter. My wife complains she has none of my company.”
Pascoe smiled gently as he turned the key in the safe. “The complaint from a wife has a novelty you do well to consider. A p-pity your cousin Francis could not join the shareholders of the company.”
“He is much too closely committed with the Warleggans. Privately we have his goodwill.”
The banker sneezed. “Verity was in to stay the night early this week. She is looking in improved health, don’t you think?”
“They have all stood up to the closing of Grambler better than I expected.”
Pascoe walked with him to the door. “You have heard, I imagine, that there are r-rumors again attaching to Miss Verity’s name.”
Ross stopped. “I have heard nothing.”
“Perhaps I should not have m-mentioned it, but I thought you should know. You and she have always been so close to one another.”
“Well, what is the rumor?” Ross spoke with impatience. Pascoe did not know the cause of Ross’s bitter hostility to the word.
“Oh, well, it is to do with that Blamey fellow. Word has c-come from several sources that they have been meeting again.”
“Verity and Blamey? What are your sources?”
“If you prefer to disregard it, pray forget I spoke. I have no wish to pass on irresponsible gossip.”
Ross said, “Thank you for the information that it is abroad. I’ll take steps to smoke it out.”