Chapter 11
Benjamin Griffiths signed the lease for Garngoch Colliery on the 5th August 1785. Six months had passed since Eira’s disappearance and although Nye was not completely himself, he was beginning to show a renewed interest in the company. Castle Iron Works continued to grow. With a coal mine and a quarry now part of the company Castle Iron was a major employer in Merthyr Tydfil, one of the foundries that dominated the town. Benjamin Griffith’s next objective was to acquire the mineral rights for the mountains above Vaynor and Trefechan. To achieve this, negotiations were well advanced with Lord Dynevor’s agent. The foundry now included four furnaces which smelted iron continuously. To provide the extra air, bigger bellows were installed and a second waterwheel added to power them. A new culvert diverted water from the River Taff to a large pond, above the foundry providing a constant water supply.
Delyth Thomas was surprised when Isaac came home early. It was only 2 o’clock. He looked angry.
‘Where’s my wife?’ he shouted at the maid.
‘In the garden room, Sir,’ replied the maid. Isaac marched through the house to the garden room.
‘I’ve had enough. He has to go.’
‘Who has to go?’ asked Delyth.
‘Your Cousin, Charles. He’s been thieving from us,’ snapped Isaac, ‘The accounts clerk has discovered he's been falsifying ledgers and taking money.’
‘How much money has he taken?’ enquired Delyth.
‘Four hundred pounds,’ shouted Isaac, ‘and he claims you told him to take the money. Is it true or is he a liar as well as an embezzler?’ demanded Isaac.
‘It’s partly true,’ replied Delyth, ‘let me try and explain.’
Delyth told Isaac how Marcus Jacobs suggested altering Mr. Thomas’ will and how the solicitor was blackmailing her, threatening to produce the real will. She explained how in desperation she asked Charles to help find the money to pay Jacobs.
'I've given Jacobs three hundred pounds and he still had the will. Now, he wants more money. I only did it for you Isaac. You must believe me,’ she said.
‘We must expose Jacobs for the blackmailer he is,’ said Isaac.
‘I always wanted to expose him but I had to protect you. Jacobs threatens to say you told him to change the will. Don’t you see you’re the one who gained? Exposing him will ruin you,’ said Delyth.
‘Why would Jacobs want to alter my father’s will?’ demanded Isaac.
‘Isn’t that plain enough. He bequeathed himself three hundred pounds and now he’s blackmailing us for more money.’
‘Where has the other hundred pounds gone?’ asked Isaac.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps Charles took it to settle gambling debts,’ replied Delyth.
Isaac Thomas thought about his wife’s story. He suspected she was lying but in one respect he knew she was right; if they exposed Jacobs as a blackmailer, his own reputation would be damaged and he might lose control of the foundry. Isaac was trapped in a web of deceit.
‘So Eira was telling the truth,’ he said, ‘what do we do about her?’
Delyth paused before replying, ‘Do nothing Isaac. She’s settled and happy with her new life. Leave her with Aunt Lily. More importantly, what are you going to do about Jacobs?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?’ said Isaac.
‘I was frightened of Jacobs and frightened you wouldn’t still love me,’ replied Delyth, ‘You do love me?’
‘Yes Delyth. I love you but I want no more of your games,’ said Isaac.
Eira's early morning walks in the garden pleased Tom. He liked to see her but wondered why she always looked sad. One morning, while he was weeding, he heard footsteps on the gravel and knew it would be Eira. Tom stood up, removed his cap and offered her a rose.
‘Thank you,’ said Eira and smelt the flower's scent.
‘What ails you, lass?’ asked Tom. His familiarity surprised Eira.
‘Can I trust you with a secret, Tom?’ she asked.
‘I’m a simple gardener Miss. No one asks me if I know any secrets,’ replied Tom.
He followed Eira to a bench, by the potting shed, where she invited him to sit with her. Tom listened carefully to Eira as she explained how she belonged elsewhere and asked for his help. Tom didn’t understand all she said, it sounded complicated for a gardener like him but he agreed to do what she asked.
The next day was a Sunday and Tom’s day off. He met Eira in the vegetable garden and she handed him a letter to Nye.
‘I’ve never had a letter Miss. I can’t read,’ said the gardener sheepishly. Eira told him to take the letter to Leominster and give it to the postmaster.
‘How do I find the postmaster?’ asked Tom.
‘There will be a wooden post, probably outside one of the inns with a sign that says Royal Mail on it. The post master waits by the post for mail riders to deliver and collect letters. He will take the letter from you and send it on its way,’ explained Eira. Then she remembered, Tom was illiterate, ‘Just ask someone where it is.’
‘Do I need to pay him, Miss?’ asked Tom.
‘No Tom he won’t want any money. The recipient pays when the letter is delivered,’ replied Eira. Tom didn’t know what a recipient was but didn’t ask.
‘It’s important that you give it to the post master and no one else,’ said Eira as he was leaving.
Tom walked to Leominster, made his way to the town centre and asked a stranger where he might find the post master. The man told him the post master didn’t work on a Sunday and offered to take the letter on his behalf. Tom was about to part with the letter when he remembered his sister lived in Leominster. He stuffed the letter back into his tunic and went to ask her advice. His sister was married to a baker and was, in Tom’s opinion, a clever woman. She would know what to do. Tom’s sister made a fuss, when her brother arrived unexpectedly and insisted he stayed for a meal. Tom forgot the purpose of his visit to Leominster and it was not until he was leaving that he remembered the letter. He repeated Eira’s story as best he could, omitting the bits he didn’t understand and the whole family sat looking at the letter in the centre of the kitchen table.
‘It’s a very important message,’ said Tom.
‘Then we will deliver it to the post master tomorrow,’ promised the baker. Satisfied that his job was done, Tom bade his sister and her husband farewell and walked home.
Marcus Jacobs and his clerk arrived at Thomas and Son’s office at three o’clock, as the summons had instructed. They were shown into the boardroom and asked to wait. Jacobs, normally a confident man, felt uncomfortable. He selected a chair on one side of the long polished table, sat down and wondered why they had been sent for. Perhaps Isaac had discovered the affair with Delyth but if so why ask him to come to the office and why tell him to bring his clerk? Then, there was the will. Surely, Delyth had not been foolish enough to tell her husband about it. It was half past the hour when the boardroom door opened and Isaac Thomas entered.
‘Thank you for coming. Don’t get up,’ said Isaac and sat down opposite his visitors. Marcus Jacobs relaxed. The meeting had started cordially and Thomas didn't appear to be angry.
‘I need some professional advice. It’s a complicated matter so your clerk might want to make some notes,’ said Isaac and gestured to writing materials at the end of the table. Isaac Thomas continued by telling the solicitor and his assistant a convoluted story about a financial dispute he was involved with. The clerk wrote quickly but struggled to keep up and interrupted to ask for clarification several times. When Isaac had finished he sat back and invited Marcus Jacobs to give his legal opinion on the matter.
‘If the facts you have told me are correct, and I am sure they are, there is no need to issue a writ. A statutory demand for the money including a threat to bankrupt should bring the affair to a speedy and satisfactory conclusion,’ said the lawyer.
‘Can you tell me how a statutory demand works?’ asked Isaac. Jacob
s began to explain. While he was talking, the door opened and a man entered the boardroom carrying a large carpet bag. He put the bag on the floor, nodded to Isaac Thomas and left without speaking. Jacobs considered the interruption rude, ignored the man and continued talking. Suddenly, Isaac produced his pocket watch and stood up.
‘I’m sorry gentlemen but it’s almost five o’clock and I have another appointment,’ he said and ushered the confused visitors out.
Walking back to his office, Marcus Jacobs saw smoke coming from the direction of the high street. Getting closer, he found a crowd gathered in front of his office. It was on fire. Jacobs watched helplessly as the tinder dry building became an inferno. Windows shattered and flames roared through the building. The roof collapsed inwards sending burning debris into the street. Nothing could be done to save the building or its contents.
The man carrying the carpet bag returned to the boardroom after the solicitor’s departure.
‘Did you do exactly as I told you?’ asked Isaac.
‘Every scrap of paper in his desk,’ replied the man and pointed to the bag.
‘Was there a secret compartment in the desk?’
‘Not very secret, It opened with a crowbar,’ replied the man.
‘And the fire?’ asked Isaac.
‘An oil lamp got knocked over. I made it look like an accident. No one will ever know I’ve been there,’ replied the man and left.
Isaac emptied the contents of the carpet bag on the table, sorted through the papers and found his father’s original will. It was in a bundle of documents tied with ribbon. He read the will, screwed it up and threw it into the burning fire. Then, out of curiosity, he examined the other documents. It appeared that Marcus Jacob’s law practice had a number of wealthy clients. The contents of the solicitor’s desk included title deeds, mortgages, contracts and other valuable documents whose loss would be a major embarrassment to the solicitor. Isaac was about to burn the papers when a promissory note, from the Bank of Haverford West, for fifty pounds gave him an idea. Attached to the promissory note was a letter authorising it’s bearer to purchase livestock, for transportation to London. Isaac picked up a pen dipped it into the ink pot and started to write.
The following day, Marcus Jacobs was picking through his burnt out office when he was told the magistrate, a friend of his, wished to see him. He made his way to the magistrate’s house, expecting sympathy and was surprised to be greeted formally.
‘Is this yours?’ demanded the magistrate, pointing to a carpet bag being held by a constable. Jacobs said the bag did not belong to him and was asked if the contents of the bag were from his office. He looked at the papers, confirmed they were and asked how the constable had come by them.
‘It seems your office was burgled and set alight to conceal the crime. The bag was found this morning by the river. The thieves must have dumped it thinking the papers were worthless to them,’ said the magistrate.
Marcus Jacobs gathered up the documents and thanked his friend for his help.
‘You don’t know how important recovering my papers is to me,’ he said.
‘It’s not quite that simple,’ said the magistrate and held out the promissory note. Jacobs took the note, examined it and saw the payees name had been changed. His own name had been crudely substituted in place of the real payee. Other documents in the bag had also been altered indicating that Marcus Jacobs was embezzling from his clients.
Marcus Jacobs' trial took place at the Michaelmas Quarter Sessions in Brecon. Witnesses confirmed they were the rightful owners of the papers in Jacob’s possession and had not authorised him to make any changes. The jury concluded that Jacobs was a forger who had altered the documents to enrich himself. Things looked bad for the solicitor; a man could be executed for stealing five shillings. Jacobs was horrified when the judge placed a black cloth on his head and sentenced him to be hanged for the crime.
Tom’s brother in law kept his promise and gave Eira’s letter to the post master at Leominster. It was delivered to Castle Iron Works three days later. Nye recognised the handwriting immediately. He ripped the letter open and read it. At last, he knew where Eira was.
It took Nye two days to ride to Aunt Lily's house. He hammered on the front door and pushed past the servant who answered, calling Eira’s name. She was in the garden room reading to Aunt Lily. Eira closed the book and stood up.
‘I shall be leaving now so you will have to read for yourself. Goodbye,’ said Eira and dropped the book into Aunt Lily’s lap. Then she ran into the hall and Nye’s open arms.
The couple returned to Merthyr discussing the future and agreed there was no reason to delay their wedding. A year had passed since Eira’s father’s death and her mourning period was over. Until the wedding, Eira would stay with a cousin. There was a lot to do. Nye arranged for the banns of marriage to be read at Vaynor Church. He instructed the architect to begin the new house and rented a cottage to serve as their married home while the house was being built. The wedding took place at Vaynor on the 8th October 1785. It was a small ceremony. Will Jones was best man and Benjamin Griffiths escorted Eira down the aisle. Meir cried as she watched. They celebrated at the Star Tavern before Nye and Eira left by carriage for a short honeymoon.
Although he was a convicted fraudster, Marcus Jacobs still had friends in the legal profession. Strings were pulled and the sentence was commuted to transportation to the penal colony of New South Wales. The disgraced solicitor left Wales, in irons with 774 other felons, in the first fleet of prison ships bound for Australia on the 18th August 1786. Once they were at sea, Jacob’s chains were removed and he was allowed free reign of the ship. Solicitors were scarce in New South Wales and, as he would soon discover, a law practice in Australia could be very profitable, particularly for a man with his particular talents.
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