The Iron Masters -Volume 1 For the Love of Eira.

By Graham Watkins

A time of restoration and 18th Century drama revealing five men who created the biggest industrial city, civilisation had ever seen. They were the Iron Masters, masters of metal and men. Their cannons saved a kingdom, forged the greatest empire in the world and changed the history of the human race.
Intrigue, bribery, adultery and murder were common in Merthyr Tydfil, a town where the furnaces burned day and night, the sun seldom pierced the soot filled sky and the Iron Masters ruled without pity.
Nye Vaughn, a humble farm boy, walked to Merthyr to find his destiny, unaware that a war was coming which would engulf the known world and make bold men rich. To fight Bonaparte, Britain needed cannons, thousands of them. Vaughn built the largest foundry of them all and made his fortune but, when the world changed, the iron behemoth he constructed turned on him.
Graham Watkins joins the ranks of historical authors as he weaves fiction and fact together with a pace that makes the reader turn the pages. The Iron Masters is a story of family, greed, betrayal and war. It's scope is epic from Wales, to Baltimore, from the age of sail to steam railways, from the Battle of Trafalgar to the defiant raising of the American flag over Fort McHenry, signalling the confidence of a new, powerful nation. Many of the characters and events are true and reveal an amazing time in our history.
In his American book review, Alex Dunbar compares The Iron Masters with the writing of C.S. Forester and Margaret Mitchell, and adds, 'The Iron Masters is an epic tale covering half a century as Nye Vaughn fights his way from humble beginnings to create one of the most powerful families in Wales. Vaughn isn't Rhett Butler, he's a more complex character, but his story is equally compelling.' Gone with the Wind was written by one of the great classic authors and Forester's Hornblower sea stories are considered to be some of the best fiction written.
Above all, The Iron Masters is a book about extraordinary men and women and how they deal with life’s challenges. If you enjoy a classic novel, are interested in the Napoleonic wars or Georgian Britain this is one of the best books to read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Graham Watkins
• Release date: Jul 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310592607

Graham Watkins

Hi. I’m Graham Watkins and I have several years researching Welsh legends and myths. It has been a wonderful project and great fun as I explored rugged mountains, mysterious castles, enchanting waterfalls and golden beaches to discover the tales that have been handed down from generation to generation. Wales is a land of mystery and being a Celtic race the Welsh are fantastic story tellers.That’s how I started writing. Today, I am a novelist, hobby farmer and explorer. It’s all been great fun and the story isn’t over yet. Checkout my website, www.grahamwatkins.info, for the latest news and details of free books which I love to give away. Right now I'm giving away 'The Iron Masters - Volume 1 For the Love of Eira' and 'Legends and Myth from North Wales' containing a collection of sixteen legends and myths from Wales. I know you'll enjoy them and come back for more.

Book preview

The Iron Masters

Volume 1 For the Love of Eira.

Copyright 2014 © Graham Watkins

The right of Graham Watkins to be identified as the Author

of the work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the Author.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Free Book Offer 1

Free Book Offer 2

Introduction

In 1780 a young farm boy left home and walked to Merthyr Tydfil. It was the beginning of an adventure that would change his life and the history of the known world. Nye Vaughn didn't know it but he was destined for greatness. War was coming. A war that would engulf every continent. It was a golden age for some. For others a time of misery and hardship. Fortunes are made in wartime and Britain was going to war. It was an opportunity the iron masters of Merthyr Tydfil would seize with both hands to make their fortunes. Men like Richard Crawshay, Francis Homfray and Josiah Guest built huge iron foundries employing thousands of men. The foundries of Cyfarthfa, Dowlais, Penydarren and Abercynon roared like thunder as they fed the war machine with cannon. The iron masters built canals and railways to get their wares to market. They fought, tricked and connived together. Anything was possible and nothing stood in the way of these powerful men.

Thomas Carlyle visited Merthyr writing that the town was filled with such 'unguided, hard-worked, fierce, and miserable-looking sons of Adam I never saw before. Ah me! It is like a vision of Hell, and will never leave me, that of these poor creatures broiling, all in sweat and dirt, amid their furnaces, pits, and rolling mills.'

However, I get ahead of myself. The story begins in a humble country graveyard.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Nye Vaughn glanced down at the crude coffin. It looked smaller in the grave, too small to contain his mother’s body. ‘Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,’ intoned the minister.

His mother’s death had been cruel. Consumption devouring her body and destroying her mind. Once, she had been a strong woman. Full of life. She had made a good home and kept it well. Nye had listened to her coughing and her cries as demons tormented her dreams. Nye’s father had deserted the marriage bed to spend the evenings in the alehouses of Llangadog, to forget his sick wife. The town was alive with drovers, gathering to walk animals to the profitable English markets. Every room was occupied. Drovers, unable to find a bed, slept in barns and outhouses. On the nights when Nye's father came home, he slept in a chair by the kitchen fire. The farm, too, was neglected. Hedges needed repairing. The barn roof had collapsed. The autumn nights were getting longer and there was no winter feed for the animals. Nye did his best to work the farm, more than anyone could expect of a boy of eighteen.

Nye looked across the grave at his father, hoping for a smile, a nod, a gesture of compassion, of shared grief but his father stood motionless, staring straight ahead. Father and son were never close. Nye imagined his mother's death would bring them together. He was wrong; a void existed, as big as the grave between them, that would never be bridged.

‘May she rest in peace,’ said the minister and threw a sod of earth into the grave. It landed on the coffin with a thud. Nye shuddered. His father put on his cap and strode out of the graveyard. The minister put his hand on Nye’s shoulder. ‘Your mother was a good woman. She isn’t down there, Nye. She’s with God now,’ said the minister and glanced up to the heavens. He closed his prayer book and followed Nye’s father from the graveyard. Nye watched the gravediggers shovel earth into the grave.

It was raining as Nye walked back to the farm, a soft cold rain that penetrated his coat and chilled his back. Nye changed out of his Sunday clothes and did his chores. The animals had to be seen to. Nye collected eggs, shut the hens in and filled the carthorse’s manger with hay. The cow, her udders heavy with milk, was waiting by the barn. He milked her and cleaned the cowshed. The rain grew heavier as he worked. The heavy muck barrow slid in the mud as he pushed it across the yard. When the jobs were finished, Nye lit the kitchen fire, dried himself and sat in his mother’s chair. Her shoes were by the grate, her knitting still in a bag on the floor. The hearth mat his mother had woven with strips, cut from old clothes, looked shabby. Nye remembered cutting the cloth for her and helping make the rag rug. It was threadbare and greasy; ready to be discarded.

‘I’ll clear everything out tomorrow,’ he said to himself. He focused on the burning logs. Shadows danced on the walls as flames illuminated the room.

Nye was dozing when the clock struck ten. He stirred. The fire had burned low and the kitchen was dark, except for a faint glow from the embers. Nye added sticks to the fire. There was a noise outside, voices and scuffling. Nye stood up, looked at the door and the loaded gun hung above it. The door opened and his father lurched into the kitchen, followed by a woman.

‘What a dirty night. Let’s get these wet things off,’ laughed his father and grabbed at the woman. She giggled as he pulled at her coat. The woman noticed Nye and stopped laughing. Nye’s father turned and saw his son.

‘This is Jean. Jean, this is my boy, Nye,’ said his father, swaying as he spoke.

‘Mum’s not even cold in the ground and you bring a woman into her house,’ said Nye angrily.

There was silence as Nye's father digested what he said. Rain beat on the window. Drops of water came down the chimney. The fire hissed and spat a burning ember onto the rug. Nye’s father stepped forward and slapped his son across the face.

‘Your mother is gone. This is my house and