Comets

COMETS

A novel by Clive Algar

Copyright ©2013 Clive Algar

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Chapter One

It was during the perihelion passage that James Forster learnt that Halley's Comet had been seen on clear nights above the Cape of Good Hope during September and October of the previous year. Now it was January and the comet was temporarily invisible as it travelled in space beyond the sun.

It serves you right, teased his dark-haired wife Isabelle, looking down at him with a smile. You’re so immersed in your work that you’ve no idea what else goes on around you – on earth or in the heavens.

She put her hand on his shoulder.

But now that you've heard the news from John, she said, "you must find time, when the comet comes back, to look at it through his telescope."

James pressed Isabelle's slender hand. He could faintly discern her perfume. It was after dinner, the children had been put to bed and he was in his library with pen, ink, blotter, sealing wax and business documents strewn across the polished desk in front of him. He had heard the rustling of petticoats and had looked up to see Isabelle entering the room with tea.

The previous night he had been to one of the regular dinners at the Commercial Exchange; among the sleek merchants there were several guests, including Sir John Herschel, with whom James had struck up a friendship soon after the eminent astronomer's arrival at the Cape two years before, in 1834. He had not seen his friend for about three months, and when they had greeted each other Herschel had told him that both he and the Astronomer Royal, Thomas Maclear, had made several observations of Halley's Comet before the start of the perihelion passage.

I'll take up John's invitation as soon as it comes back, James said. And you're always pleased to visit Margaret, aren't you? You enjoy each another's company and you seem to talk a great deal about the children with her.

We talk about many things, Isabelle replied. We spent hours last time discussing their bulb collection and looking at the illustrations Margaret's done of the Cape Amaryllids. And, she added, I'd like to look at the comet too.

When Isabelle had half-jokingly taken James to task for being too wrapped up in his business, she had been about to add something about the hours he also devoted to church affairs – but she had held her tongue as it was likely to displease him. James was proud to serve God by bringing his business skills to bear on church projects. In particular he had played a large part in raising funds for the building of Cape Town's recently-completed St George's Church.

James had been perfectly aware that the arrival of the comet was imminent – after all, he had taken a course in astronomy as part of his studies at Oxford during the previous decade – but the fact had slipped his mind and in the end he had missed it. With his theoretical knowledge of astronomy – actual observation had not been included in his studies – James had sought out the famous Herschel soon after his arrival in Cape Town, to ask whether he might look at the night sky through his great twenty-foot reflector. Herschel had hardly expected to find anyone at the Cape with knowledge of astronomy, other than Maclear. He had welcomed James to his newly-acquired estate, Feldhausen, about six miles south of the town, and had encouraged him to peer, for hours on the first occasion, through the powerful telescope. Planets, stars and nebulae had swum into James's view. He had seen Uranus – discovered by the elder Herschel in 1781 – Saturn with its rings, the Orion Nebula, and the Magellanic Clouds, which had opened up before his eyes to reveal scores of individual glittering stars.

At thirty-one, James Forster was among the youngest of Cape Town's upper class of merchants. He had inherited a sound business from his father and had increased its size and value during poor years when several other merchant houses had foundered. Now that the Colony seemed to be entering a period of prosperity, with cash circulating more plentifully, James's worth was likely to multiply several-fold as his investments in premises, stock and employees bore fruit. Although his sandy haired, grey-eyed looks were boyish, he was respected as an astute man of business, a scholar, a prominent member of the church, and a good husband and father. Isabelle – beautiful and accomplished, the mistress of a fine house – was seen as a rich asset to her husband. The Forsters belonged to the highest level of the merchant class and were of unblemished reputation; they were received by the cream of colonial society.

James had immigrated to the Cape with his parents and three younger sisters in 1815. Post-war taxes weighed heavily on Britain and Mr Forster felt that he would be more likely to prosper in a land of new opportunities. In 1815 the distant Cape of Good Hope was largely overlooked by the migrants flocking out of Europe, but he had a first cousin there, on his mother's side, who owned a vineyard and who said that a man with capital and skills would be well advised to stake his claim before the slow trickle of entrepreneurs became a flood. In any case, the climate of the Cape would benefit his sickly youngest girl, Augusta.

James and his sisters grew up in a comfortable town house in Strand Street, only two blocks from the shore of Table Bay, and were educated at small, and mainly shortlived, private schools. They attended the horse races at Green Point with their parents, went to plays at the African Theatre in Hottentot Square, and joined the Sunday promenade of the middle classes through the Government Gardens to the bandstand where military bands played. Their clothes were washed by servant women and their shoes blacked by servant boys.

Mr Forster was able to provide his wife and children with a steadily improving standard of living. He found a business partner and with him established a firm that imported a wide variety of goods – including cloth and clothing, crockery, cutlery and glassware, tobacco and liquor – and sold these from a modest building which they purchased in Long Street. When the partner died Mr Forster was in a position to buy his half from the widow, and thus became sole proprietor of the firm that was later known as Forster & Son. When the neighbouring property came on to the market he snapped it up and then combined the two buildings into a single large store with a new façade that included the novelty of windows in which tempting goods could be displayed to passers-by.

In 1822 Mr Forster was one of the merchants who invested in the splendid, neo-classical Commercial Exchange which was built on the Heerengracht side of the Grand Parade. It rapidly became a centre of economic and social life for the merchant class, and at the first dinner held there, young James, then seventeen years of age, was one of the stewards. He and several other merchants' sons who had fulfilled this role had their names mentioned in the newspaper afterwards, thus marking them as the next generation of commercial leaders.

The next year James sailed for England and stayed with an uncle and aunt in London until he went up to Oxford. He became an undergraduate at University College and moved into rooms on the first floor. For several months James nodded to the young man who occupied the neighbouring rooms: his name was the Hon. Michael Percy and he was a year ahead of the freshman. James was reading mathematics, astronomy, chemistry and natural philosophy; young Percy was reading Greats.

Shortly before Percy started preparing for his Little Go, he invited James for sherry in his rooms and they began forming a friendship. The rooms occupied by Michael – as James called him from then on – had been used by the poet Shelley at the beginning of the previous decade. On his bookshelf Michael had a finely-bound copy of the poet's early works; and in his desk, tucked away out of sight, he had a copy of Shelley's infamous pamphlet entitled The Necessity of Atheism which had caused him to be sent down. When Michael handed it to him, James looked at the title and almost dropped the pamphlet in shock. He gave it back hastily without reading a word of the text. Michael smiled, put the offending object away and poured James another sherry.

Michael Percy was strongly built, with careless good looks. His blue eyes twinkled with mischievous humour, and James came to the conclusion that his new friend liked to shock, but that he was sound at heart. Thus when Michael said that his favourite Roman poet was Ovid, and proceeded to read aloud some cheerfully immoral verses from Ars Amatoria, James smiled knowingly and did not take offence.

During the two years that they were contemporaries at Oxford, James and Michael became firm friends. They were different in many ways, but in other ways they had a great deal in common.

Their backgrounds were vastly different: Michael was related to the Duke of Northumberland and was apparently wealthy; James's ancestors had slowly worked their way up, generation by generation, from manual occupations, through more skilled trades, to proprietorship of commercial undertakings. Michael came from noble places that his family had occupied for centuries; James was a clever lad from the colonies, not entirely at ease with the subtleties of the mother country.

What they had in common was a young person's desire to make sense of the world. They talked for hours at a time, sprawling in chairs in Michael's rooms, or James's, or walking by the Isis. Very often they disagreed, but they enjoyed disagreeing, and liked each other more after each argument. In their interpretations of life, James tended to conservatism and Michael to radicalism. James had inherited the solid values of the merchant class; Michael seemed able to step outside his ancestral constraints and to embrace daring ideas and startling theories. In some ways they were complementary.

They sought experiences. Sometimes they went to taverns and drank too much; occasionally this led to their meeting unsuitable young women and going off with them. After such episodes James suffered the anguish of remorse but Michael seemed untroubled.

In 1825 Michael's Great Go was successful and he graduated. The friends parted in a blur of wine and tears, and the young aristocrat returned to his family's estates in the north. In the following twelve months before James's own graduation, they corresponded frequently and even managed to meet twice, during vacations, at an inn in Nottingham, which they designated as the half-way point. James travelled there by public coach and Michael arrived in a private coach, with liveried coachman and footman.

During his final year James cultivated other friends at Oxford, but found them too much like himself to be stimulating. Conversations with them were mundane, and he almost lost his taste for drink. But in the end he was compensated – he found that he had more time for study and he achieved outstanding results in his Great Go.

After travelling for four months in France, Switzerland, Piedmont, Tuscany and the Papal States – a gift from his father, to complete his education – James returned to England, said good-bye to his uncle and aunt, met Michael for the last time in Nottingham, and took the long voyage back to the Cape of Good Hope, arriving home in time for Christmas.

Early in 1827 he went to work for his father, to learn the merchant's trade. He had come back with his mind filled with the wonders of science and he found the prospect of commercial life exceedingly dull. Fortunately the initial training his father had arranged for him consisted of spending some time helping each of the firm's senior employees, to familiarize himself with every aspect of the business, so there was sufficient variety in his activities to keep him from boredom.

Mr Forster was personally responsible for deciding what goods would be stocked: in order to ensure that Forster's continued to be patronised by people with money to spend – the senior government officials, the military officers and the growing middle class – he had devised a system of intelligence to establish what people of taste were buying in England. In this his brother and sister-in-law (the couple who had kept an eye on James during his university years) were most helpful, writing frequently and often enclosing cuttings from the London newspapers. Thus Mr Forster ordered fashionable clothing for men and women, dinner services that were gracing the tables of well-to-do Londoners, cosmetics that pampered the fairest complexions in Mayfair, good writing paper, charming music boxes, elegant hair clips – whatever items were necessary to ensure that Forster's was the first choice of Cape society.

The goods arrived in due course in Table Bay and the responsibility of receiving them and transporting them to Long Street lay with Mr Butler, a retired quartermaster-sergeant of the 49th Regiment, and three slaves – a wagoner and two labourers. At this point Mr Forster's senior shopkeeper, Mr Greeff, took charge, restocking the shelves, tables and counters as required, changing the displays in the windows and placing advertisements in the newspaper.

When Capetonians flocked to the shop to examine the new goods, Mr Greeff's four assistants – two men and two women – stood ready to make sales. When his turn came, so did James.

Book-keeping was the final stage of the process. This was carried out by Mr Gous, under the close supervision of the proprietor. No other employee was privy to the financial affairs of the firm – at that stage not even James, even though the firm's name was changed to Forster & Son.

As the months passed his father continued to rotate James's duties and gradually, through familiarity, he developed a liking for at least some of his tasks.

One day James came out of a back room and saw a dark-haired young woman of astounding beauty examining tortoise-shell combs that had been displayed on a counter. None of the sales assistants was available to help her at that moment so he took advantage of the situation and approached her.

She was wearing a high-waisted dress with a straw bonnet, from under which dark ringlets fell on her cheeks.

May I help you, miss? he asked, adding: I'm James Forster.

Oh, sir, are you the son of the owner? she asked in a respectful tone. I heard Mr Forster say once that he had a son who was away in England.

Yes, I was at university and then I travelled in Europe. I was away for four years.

How wonderful. And now have you joined your father in his business?

James nodded and smiled, at the same time he observing that she had quite a cultured voice but that her accent was more local than British.

So you've been here before and spoken to my father? he asked.

I've been here a few times with my mother, she replied, and Mr Forster himself once served her. That was when he mentioned you.

There was a momentary pause in the conversation as both young people seemed to realise that they were enjoying a social contact in the guise of a commercial one. The young lady blushed.

As you know my name, may I ask yours? James ventured.

I am Miss Mossop, she replied, with downcast eyes, which showed her lashes to advantage. When she looked up again James noticed that her eyes were cornflower blue.

She did not extend her hand so James bowed slightly and said: How do you do? He noticed Mr. Greeff looking in their direction so he asked again: May I help you?

Thank you, but today I'm only looking, she said with a hint of apology in her voice. I saw your advertisement for new goods in yesterday's paper.

You're welcome to come whenever you like.

Later he asked his father if he recalled a customer by the name of Mrs Mossop.

Yes, Mossop's wife. He owns that haberdashery in Buitenkant Street. She's had long periods of illness. They have a rather striking daughter who comes in here sometimes, but I haven't seen her of late.

She was here today, said James.

Ah, said his father, is she the reason for your inquiry?

Yes, Father.

Well, good luck then, but I’ve heard that the Mossops have not been very encouraging to young men. Many have tried but none has succeeded.

It's a small shop, as I recall, said James. Does Miss Mossop work there?

No, neither Mrs Mossop nor Miss Mossop works. Mossop employs one or two people.

Father, do you perhaps know Miss Mossop's Christian name?

I believe it's Isabelle, his father replied with the trace of a smile.

* * *

For the rest of that week James kept a sharp eye open, in case Isabelle Mossop came into Forster's again, but she did not. However, when he went to church the next Sunday with his parents and sisters, he saw her.

At that time the Anglican congregation of Cape Town had no church building of their own, except for a military chapel at Wynberg, so, by arrangement, they held their services in the Dutch Calvinist church near the top of the Heerengracht. Anglican services were held at 11am each Sunday, after the Dutch service had concluded.

The interior of the church was bright with military uniforms and women's dresses; only the black and grey frock coats of civilian men toned down the colourful display. Isabelle wore a royal blue dress and a corn-coloured bonnet: to James she seemed to stand out in sharp relief against a dull background and he wondered how it was possible that he had never noticed her there before.

After the service he persuaded his father to introduce him to the Mossops. Mr Mossop saw the Forster family coming and turned towards them with a smile. He was a short, thick-necked man with a balding head and cornflower blue eyes set in a weathered face. He had full, bristly side-whiskers that stood out from his broad jowls. It was fortunate, James thought, that his daughter resembled him only in the colour of his eyes. Isabelle’s facial features did bear some resemblance to her mother’s but, whereas Mrs Mossop was passably good looking, her daughter had … how could one describe it? … evolved to a state that must be close to perfection.

Mr Mossop bowed respectfully to Mr Forster before they shook hands. It appeared that the families were slightly acquainted – Mrs Forster and Mrs Mossop had been introduced previously, and all three of James's sisters had met Isabelle – but that generally they moved in different social circles. Whereas the Forsters represented the upper part of the merchant class and were able to mix with the governmental, professional and military elite of the Cape, the Mossops were shopkeepers who were considered by society to have more in common with skilled tradesmen and senior non-commissioned officers.

It was, however, plain to James that Mr and Mrs Mossop were anxious to cultivate the Forsters' friendship. Before they parted, Mr Mossop said he and his family would be honoured if the Forsters would call on them –