Page 53 of The Cornish Inheritance

Caroline shivered, the hope that she’d never have to find out what it was like to go down a mine at the forefront of her mind.

A few men appeared from amongst the buildings, dirty and disheveled and walking with their backs bent and their heads down as though exhausted. Amongst them a smattering of children in a similar state. Was this what working all day in a mine did to you? As a boy, had Nat come up from the depths looking like this? But he’d been going home to a hot bath and a fine dinner, unlike some of these workers who might only be going home to a cold hearth and the barest of meals. The hymn singing of the approaching night shift had ceased, and they were standing back, watching the day shift as they blinked in the unaccustomed sunlight.

“They look terrible,” Caroline said.

Nat nodded. “You’re right. They do.” He turned to look at Casworan accusingly. “Why do they look like this? It may be eleven years since I was here, but what’s been happening? I don’t remember the men being like this when I last worked with them.”

Casworan had the grace to look embarrassed. “There’s nothing I can do. Mr. Trefusis has reduced wages to save money and the price of bread has done nothing but rise. These people are sending out their children to earn enough money just to eat. They can’t afford to put clothes on their backs or boots on their feet.”

Nat shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

Casworan raised his shoulders and grimaced. “Who? Mrs. Treloar lets Trefusis do as he wishes. Sir Hugh’s an invalid whose information is filtered through his nurse so he knows nothing of what Trefusis gets up to. No one’s going to let me have an audience with him, and even if I did see him, what can he do from his sickbed? Apart from Trefusis and your mother, who don’t care, who else is there to tell? And if I were to go to the other local mine owners do you think they’d take my side against one of their own?”

Of course they wouldn’t. The landed gentry stuck together through thick and thin. It had been the same in Wiltshire.

“Those children look hungry,” Yves said. “Can’t we get them food? Look how thin and dirty they are.” He looked up at Caroline. “I don’t think I really do want to go down the mine if that’s what it does to you.”

Nat banged his fist into the palm of his other hand. “How long has this been going on?”

Casworan sucked in his lips. “Since your grandfather suffered his nasty turn. ’Twas said he were going to die, but he rallied. Only with him confined to his bedroom, there were no one to make sure all was fair. He were a hard taskmaster in his day, that’s certain, but he were a fair one. He used to say he’d give a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work. And he did. Not like Trefusis.”

“I see you apportion no blame to my mother.”

Casworan stayed silent, but his expression spoke volumes.

Nat punched his hand again. “A workforce treated like this is not a happy workforce. This is more like slave labor. I saw some of that on my travels. But I’m home now and if I do nothing else, I’ll see our workers treated better.” His brows lowered. “And Trefusis kicked out of Treloar.”

“Good,” Yves said. “I don’t like him and nor does Hetty.”

Children were such good judges of character.