Chapter 4: Class Conflict

Sarah Brighton was heading home. It had been a good week of Christmas celebration with her extended family. She'd played with her young twin cousins, watching as they pranced around the living room. Plus, her great Aunt had made an extra mincemeat pie to take home.

As they approached the front gate, she saw a boy she didn't recognize and guessed he was about her age. His back was to her, so the first thing she noticed was his long hair. It was tied back, yet scattered across his shoulders in soft waves of dark brown. He was leading a black colt across the yard on frosted grass. When she saw his tight blue breeches and black boots, she watched his slim figure move with a sort of unintentional grace.

Her carriage slowed to a stop and her father was the first to exit. As she followed her mother across the yard, her curiosity peaked.

"Who is that?" she whispered, leaning into her mother.

"Oh, Sarah, this is James." Natalie explained as he turned to them. "He's come to work with the horses."

Once the boy turned, Sarah was met with soft grey eyes. She awkwardly stood, clutching the thick metal pie plate and couldn't think of a single word to say.

"Hello, Miss." he said.

"I'm--Sarah." she flashed a nervous smile at him, hoping she looked confident.

"Very pleased to meet you." she added, holding out her hand.

"Pleasure's all mine." he replied with a handshake. His hands were rough against her black lambskin gloves. He smiled just for a moment, then returned to his task.

~*~

Over the next few weeks, Mary and Augustus were trying to settle in and become more comfortable in their new home. They were away from the crowds and filth, and much of the country's violent crime.

Augustus's depression had finally ceased and it was easier to be out of his shell, but he still felt out of place being in the upper class.

At dinner one night, he watched Hannah circle the table with their food and couldn't help but wonder what her life was like outside of her daily chores. Where was her family? Did she have any siblings? Were they put to work too? He knew many children had to work, but still didn't like a twelve year-old assigned to be at his beck and call.

While she was close to Lily's age, she looked much younger. Her hands were quite small, and her white apron was almost too big for her.

As he watched her carefully spoon out a course of soup, he spoke up.

"Thank you, Hannah." he said, carefully holding his bowl still for her.

"You're welcome, sir." she cheerily replied, grinning.

"You—you don't have you call me 'sir'." he shook his head.

"No need to thank them." Margaret briskly said, jumping into their conversation for no reason whatsoever.

"Of course there is." Augustus countered, gaping at Margaret, disgusted. "It took her three hours to make that. It doesn't hurt to be grateful."

"You don't need to thank someone for doing as they're expected." she quietly insisted, leaning into him over the table.

"Besides, it sets a bad precedent." she continued with a pretentious flutter, leaning back in her chair, wine in hand. "They'll want adulation for everything."

"Oh, really." he shot back, his face hardening with a cool sneer as she sipped. "Tell me, when is it appropriate to express gratitude?"

Will gulped and put a hand on Augustus's arm.

Margaret bristled at this and merely replied: "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

"The Romans probably weren't this ungrateful." he mumbled to himself.

Hannah looked between the two and chose to leave. "I'd best go get the bread." she escaped the awkward scene, scuttling back to the kitchen.

~*~

By the next afternoon, Augustus wondered if maybe he'd been rude, or gone too far. But he had no interest in kowtowing to Margaret, nor validating her arrogance, so he chose to debate it with Will instead.

"Was I wrong?" he asked Will, apropos of nothing.

It was early afternoon in the Drawing room. There Will sat, engrossed in yet another book. The nearby fire crackled here and there, a pleasant distraction from the dreary weather outside.

"What?" Will replied as he looked up from his book, brows knitted in puzzlement.

"Last night." he said, fidgeting with the top of a nearby inkwell. "I was thanking Hannah, and--"

Will's heavy sigh cut him off.

"My mother's ridiculous antics. Thank her all you want." he said, waving it off. "Few things seem to live up to Mother's standards."

"I feel...out of place still. I did't mean to be rude; it's just everything is so different here. I mean..."

He paused and looked around the Drawing room for a moment.

The walls held row after row of leather-bound books owned by Will's father and Uncle Deus. Dozens of volumes...and he couldn't read a single word.

Who needed to own so many books? Did all rich people have this many? Had they read every single one? Will had a couple shelves in his room, but this collection sprawled upwards and spanned the whole wall. He was literally surrounded by knowledge he couldn't acquire.

"Maybe I'd feel like I fit in if I could read. Or write."

"Why not both?" Will cheerfully suggested, grinning as he pushed his book aside.

"I have a lot of things I'd like to say about all the rich people I see in London, but I don't know how to...express them." he explained, squinting. "Or at least remember everything I said the first time."

"Like what?"

"Well, honestly," he paused, and thought--was it all right to mention this after last night? Was it an insensitive topic? Will wouldn't judge him, would he?

"There are so many people in the City who are in need and no one seems to really care. Things were bad enough and then the Plague came. Last summer was awful; dozens of people passing away each week. And instead of working together, all the apothecaries and doctors did was argue about who was right, which cure was better." he scoffed, sitting beside Will. "And besides that, lots of people need good employment to help their families. Some were able to get it, but no one did much to help those who didn't."

"My parents claim 'there's always something to be done,'" Will immediately replied, and then realized he shouldn't quote his mother.

But it was too late. By now, Augustus was certain Margaret was oblivious of how difficult changing one's life can actually be if you don't have money as a resource.

"How are they supposed to improve their lives if no one gives them a chance, if they don't even know how?" he couldn't hold back. "Were your parents aware that no one helps them in the first place?" he shot back, a hand snapping onto his hip.

He stopped short when Will looked away, clearly uneasy. The topic didn't offend him, but his shortness came off as rude.

He let his arms fall to his side and sheepishly looked away. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean--"

"Well, I don't agree with them."

"I--I'm sorry, I didn't mean you." he pleaded in a hurried breath. He pulled his chair closer to Will. "You're not like that."

"It's alright, I know you didn't mean me." Will added. He gathered and re-stacked the parchment papers before him on the desk as he spoke.

"Believe me, I'm against a lot of it too. Last year," he continued, leaning back in his chair, "my parents asked me if I wanted my own personal servant." he scoffed.

"What did you do?" Augustus asked, wide-eyed with shock.

"I told them 'no'." Will waved his hand away again as he spoke. "It's ridiculous. I don't have the need for a...servant."

"And you do help outside. Something I've never seen your parents do, actually."

"They think it's more 'proper' to pay someone else to do it. And I don't particularly care for that. That's why I help, actually."

"I like that." Augustus nodded in agreement and thought for a moment.

"You know some people in the city use slaves, yes?"

"Some people do that here." Will immediately replied. "I feel sorry for them. It doesn't even make sense. It's not like they did something to deserve it. Why not just hire them as regular servants?"

"I saw a man walking them through town a few weeks ago." Augustus recalled, squinting as he tried to remember. "I think they were being...sent somewhere. But I saw someone our age, and I felt awful. He looked so scared."

He re-pictured the boy. He stood at no more than five and a half feet, with dark skin and wide, panicked eyes. For a split second he paused, looking at Augustus like he was begging to be freed.

Augustus had a sinking feeling that only got worse when he noticed the boy had chains on his feet.

He wasn't going anywhere.

The lash cracked against the boy's back. He had to be whipped for slowing down, and Augustus flinched in terror.

"It just made me realize that....things could be worse."

"Yeah." Will quietly agreed with a nod and paused for a moment.

"The way they do it in Utopia makes more sense." Will said after a quiet pause. "It only happens after you either commit a crime," Will listed, counting on his fingers, "get captured as a prisoner of war, or are escaping death penalty from somewhere else. And your children are born totally free."

"Well, that does makes more sense." Augustus agreed. "You've been reading that for weeks."

"Re-reading, actually. I enjoyed it so much I read it twice."

Will turned to him, grinning. "Why don't I read it to you? Maybe you'll like some of More's ideas too."

"I'd like that." Augustus agreed cheerfully. "Can we still work on writing my ideas, though?"

"Of course." Will sat up straight and pulled fresh paper towards him. "Any other ideas?"

"It's just, how is one person better than another? Aren't we all equal? My mother says God loves everyone the same, but I see people in church who say they care for others, but they don't act like it."

"They're all wrong." Will flatly declared, but got worried when Augustus looked offended.

"Oh, I don't blame religion." he shook his head vigorously. "I blame selfish people. We go to church every week, and it doesn't speak to me. I'm always bored. But I'd rather be bored than bitter."

"I never knew you had so much to say about that." Augustus said curiously, sitting beside him.

"Which is exactly why you should learn to read my writing." he added with a grin. They shared a chuckle.

"I believe in God." Augustus mused, looking out the window at snowy drifts. "I think he gave me my life, the family I have, my friends. But it's not God's fault my parents work hard and still aren't good enough. That's unfair people, not an unfair God. My mother says God is forgiving and that good deeds are rewarded."

"I can't stand people boasting like my mother. They're hypocrites." Will said. "She barely follows it half the time anyway. Your mother is quieter about it, but it seems like she means it. I think that's how it should be. Don't brag about being good, just prove it."

"Maybe that's what 'the meek inheriting the earth' means." Augustus suggested, placing an elbow on the desk. "Instead of saying how good you are to show off, be good and don't make a fuss about it. You'll be rewarded for a faith that means something. I like that better."

"I think I should be your scribe." Will suggested with a confident smile, dripping a quill in ink.

"Come again?"

"Your scribe." he repeated, writing Augustus's name at the top of his parchment. "You tell me all your ideas, and I write them down for you. A lot of people have used scribes. Great thinkers, philosophers, playwrights." he smiled in encouragement. He had a feeling this would be a very important undertaking.

~*~

"I think you'll really appreciate this part." Will brightly announced.

An hour later there they were, up in his room. As they'd agreed to, Will was reading aloud as Augustus patiently listened to Utopia. One particular passage of More's work had very close tie-ins to the struggles Augustus had been describing about life in the city.

"'If you suffer your people to be ill-educated,'" Will recited, "'and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this but that you first make thieves and then punish them?'"

~*~

They went on steadily for the next week. Augustus had seen so much, and Will was shocked at many things he heard. After they had taken social reform up as a current topic for reading and writing, Will began a journal entry about their discussions.

It's fascinating to hear everything Augustus has witt-nessed. I am shocked at how little I know about the city as it is now. The Plague was at its worst this past summer. People would die so oftene grave-diggers just ran out of room and bodies get shoved in ditches next to the streets. I've heard King Charles himself fled London to live in the Country-side to keep himself and his loved ones safe. I am un-sure as to whether or not they have returned.

My Uncle Amadeus oftene has news of this, given his field of work. He studies 'Naturale Philosophy.' Such a topic means a studye of nature: animals, plants; all living creatures. He has been with the Royal Society for a few yeares by now and as the Plague grew worse, he was vastly con-cerned when doctors didn't seem interested in their methods and new ideas about studyeing humans.

So it seems that either morals have changed in the city, or perhaps I never noticed some things as a child. One such instance? Men are not above leering at women for 'employment'. Augustus told me of a woman he once saw cornered by a man in an alley, calling her a whore, leaning into her as she stood terrified, with no help at all! He thought quick-ley and threw a stone right at him, just enough time for him to turn away so she could run off! How brave of him.

We talked about slaves and servants too. My parents have servants but not slaves. I wonder: is that a moral ground or a mere choice of convenience? I feel sorry for people being slaves when they didn't do anything to deserve it.

The biggest part of in-equality I now see is divided between those with and with-out money. When I did live in London, Augustus and I lived nearby, but in different parts of the city. I vaguely recall our home being bigger, and the streets appeared safer.

How much of this ignorance was me being a child? Though our families knew each other, were Augustus and I divided so heavily in life-styles even then? Their collaboration went as such: My father owned the business with Uncle Deus, Augustus's father worked for them. I never realised that meant our lives were different. I saw my father and his work side-by-side, and it looked like they were as equal as we children were playing side-by-side. But that was untrue.

How do workers take it in a stride? They make far less than the owner, yet they do more actual labour! I fail to see what is fair about that. Now that I realise how serious these things are, it's re-freshing to know Augustus's mother Caroline is so gentle and does not judge others, whether or not they have money, privilege, or any-thing like that. This is noble because I'm sure many people judge her, unfairly. To not resent the people who hold you down is admirable. If I were mis-treated, I doubt I'd share her composure.

I never liked the idea of being so rich or poor anyhow, some people have too many re-sources and many not enough at all. The excess of my own home almost feels wrong now, but Augustus assures me I haven't done anything wrong, nor have my parents. They have worked hard for all they have; but I would prefer if Mother would not be so gaudy about every-thing.

She claims being a Puritan, but she's not as close as she'd like to think she is. While she disapproves of acting, the theater, and the King's 'indulgences' she does many things the Puritans banned.

Fashion? She is always buying more. Parties, like the ones she holds for prospective investors? She says it's to 'ensure our stability'. While she only drinks occasionally, she is very fond of her worldly possessions and as far as I know, the Puritans want lives free of personal items which are not ness-issary.

I myself do not agree with most Puritan ways. Banning things like sports, theater and the celebration of Christmas? When have those things ever harmed someone? I can under-stand no alcohol and no possessions to be greedy over, but they're a terribly stuffy bunch.

But despite all of the things Augustus has seen in the city, he miraculously remains hopeful and ex-cited about life. He's the kind of passionate person who just leaps out of bed, what with it being another day and all. I appreciate that kind of thinking. Seeing how strong it made him in those awfull surroundings, surely it can do wonders for me! He could teach me so much more about a different kind of life. I can finally understand the differences I never saw as a child. He's smarter than he gives himself credit for, too.

We have thus chosen to help each-other: I shall see the ways of working life by doing more manual work. I usually help out-side but am planning on trying a few more tasks as we go on. It feels only fair. I'd honestly rather make food than run numbers. Our merchanting trade is vast, and I am bored to death every time Father has me do work with him.

I'll enjoy helping Augustus, I'm happily tasked with teaching both reading and writing. I am now also his scribe, and he is ex-cited about it. Next time Uncle Deus visits, if Augustus agrees, I'd enjoy showing off his new ideas! I'm sure my Uncle would love it, and be very interested in what he has to say.