Chapter 2
Not too long after, an elderly man approached with a slight limp.
“Yes Sir?” was all he said.
“Yes, are you Mr. Coleworth?”
“Yes Sir, Carl Coleworth.”
“What relation are you to Josiah Coleworth whose farm lies across the meadow?”
“Uncle, Sir.”
“Let me ask you, do you read?”
“Yes Sir.”
“What do you read?”
“Plant labels and such mostly, Sir. And the Church Hymnal.”
“What about Plato?”
“No, Sir. Don’t have much use for that.”
“Curious. Are you aware that your nephew reads Plato?”
The gardener’s assistant’s eyes went to the ground.
“Yes, Sir.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Coleworth. I am very interested in finding out about the intellectual pursuits of my tenants. No one is in trouble. If you are not interested in the books in our library, how do you think your nephew became so?”
“I’m not sure, Sir, all I know is that on my afternoon off, when visiting my nephew, he usually asks me to bring a book or two next time. Sorry for not mentioning it to anyone, Sir.”
“No matter, I understand. In future, please inform me when you wish to borrow anything.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sir Henry John Essex had always been a curious person himself. He greedily consumed the books required during his schooling, as well as many others, and continued the habit while helping his father manage the family estate. It was customary for gentlemen to be so engaged, but for tenant farmers and their sons and daughters, well, he had never heard of it.
He decided next day to pay another call on the Coleworths.
This time he was greeted at the gate by Mrs. Coleworth who was leading the cow into the barn for its hay and oats before the evening milking.
“Good Day, Mrs. Coleworth?” She nodded in assent.
“ I am Sir Henry John Essex. I spoke to your daughter yesterday. Mr. Coleworth has also written me explaining his necessary leave to aid his cousin. How are you faring in his absence?”
“Thank you, Sir. We are faring well. Catherine mentioned your kind visit. Albert can do the heavier work while Josiah’s away.”
“Let me repeat my availability should you require it.” Sir Henry said as he bowed and turned towards his horse.
“Thank you, Sir,” said Mrs. Coleworth.
“Proud folk,” Sir Henry thought to himself as he rode away, “not wanting to ask for help.” Or was he being proud in thinking they would suddenly need him once they were aware of his proximity? Perhaps it was he that needed them. For what? A diversion. From what? Boredom with his aristocratic life.
He was never a materialistic person, preferring nature, theology and philosophy to military, colonial, and estate matters. The word that was distasteful to him about all three was the word, “acquire”. It bespoke of greed and selfishness. One would think he would have been a philanthropist with his distaste for taking, but giving carried with it a certain presumptuousness too. Who was he to decide what was best for people? His loyalty to his family was such that he would be a responsible Lord once his father died, but he would not take pains to either enlarge or diminish the estate. Stability and responsibility were noble enough goals for him.
If he needed these tenants, at least to satisfy his curiosity, so what? He decided to return home and wait for Mr. Coleworth’s return. Meanwhile he’d suggest to his mother that she not speak of the tenant’s book-reading to his father. Lady Essex had never stressed a need for class distinctions, not that the subject had come up much. Her manner to the servants was equinanimous, calling them by their titles and surnames, and considering their welfare when delegating duties. In contrast, his father’s keen sense of proper order and efficiency would be offended by the idea of the intellectual advancement of tenants. The link between education and inefficiency in the lower classes appeared to be more of a psychological one. Once the workers’ minds were broadened, they would become discontent with the narrow scope of their menial lives. They would become greedy like their masters apparently, and there must not be enough material things to go around for that.
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