Nothing New on the Land (The Agricultural Lord Palfrey Book 3), page 12
Samways could not imagine how one managed a monarch.
“Simple, Samways. Tell her everything. Send a hundred sheets of quarto every morning as briefing papers and ask for her urgent replies to them. Where she cannot make an early response, it becomes necessary to take action – ‘sorry, ma’am, the matter had to be dealt with’ – blaming her for delay. Within a very few months she will request less of a burden. That will enable the Prime minister to send her a single page every morning and leave it to her to ask for detail of anything that strikes her interest.”
“Ah! And when she asks for detail, my lord, then a pile of folios a foot tall presented to her, a thousand pages to read through. No grounds there for complaint – she has been given all she asked for. That will break her of any desire to govern, my lord.”
“Cynical, cruel and necessary, Samways. The House of Hanover has failed us. We asked little enough of them – they should rule honestly and effectively and in exchange were to be supreme in our country. We British gave them a vast deal and asked only work in exchange. They have failed us. They cannot complain that we punish them for their failure.”
“It is very difficult for the ordinary man to comprehend, my lord. The King is the Anointed of God, yet he is also part of a family that was invited to take the throne by the government of the day. It seems strange to think that God may have motivated the Prime Minister of the day to nominate a Hanoverian princeling to be King of Great Britain.”
“The strangeness lies in the fact that you are thinking, Samways. We are expected simply to believe in such matters. Thought is far too rational a process to be tolerated in such matters.”
Samways had little by way of a sense of humour, but he could see that to be amusing.
“We must all be little Lord Sidmouths, my lord. Incapable of any process even resembling ratiocination.”
“Precisely so, Samways. Some parts of our government are mystical rather than rational and must be accepted without question or query. Some of our masters find that easy.”
The funeral was long and tedious and, as was inevitable, was a little thin of exalted guests. There would be months in which to send out invitations and organise foreign dignitaries to a coronation, but a funeral had to take place in short time. Ambassadors showed willing, as was to be expected, and provided a substantial splash of colour in their fancy dress, and the Army offered great masses of scarlet and gold and shiny brass as well as a display of fine horseflesh. There was a natural shortage of foreign dignitaries and of peers from the farther parts of the realm. The bulk of Scots peers had too little time to reach London when once they had heard of the event and the same applied to many of the Irish.
Lord Montgomerie arrived in time from rural Wales and took a lodging at Perry House, the hotels all being full.
“Not entirely ideal, Palfrey, but my insane nephew popped his clogs last week, I am glad to say. There is no potential heir remaining to my dignities outside of my direct family.”
“That is convenient… Uncle.”
“Hush! I doubt we should say that aloud, Palfrey. A quiet acknowledgement is sufficient, I suspect!”
“The House will sit in a few days, purely ceremony – panegyrics to be uttered by those of office and seniority. We will hear at great length of the many virtues of the late King. It must be done and we should attend, coincidentally sitting on the government side of the House. No harm in reminding Liverpool of our existence and willingness to be good, provided only that he will be better.”
“Unsubtle, Palfrey!”
“Inelegant, too – but I am quite certain Liverpool will be able to think of some way of entertaining us. I would not be at all surprised if some of those hugeous great castles you have in North Wales transpired to have Constables.”
Montgomerie nodded.
“Ancient sinecures paying a few hundreds a year and often having the right to nominate chaplains and other clerical sorts to earn a minor wage for doing nothing at all. There will be younger sons of local families who will be quite pleased to be paid a hundred a year for being Writer to the Constable, doing nothing other than pick up his money every quarter.”
Nat nodded in his turn, knowing that those families might well be electors in the local constituency, pleased to send Montgomerie’s choice off to the House of Commons. It was corruption, certainly, but was how the country worked, to the extent that it worked at all.
“There will have to be Reform, you know, Montgomerie. We cannot continue like this in the modern age.”
“Too many newssheets, Palfrey! The printing presses churning out penny pamphlets and far too many of the Mob literate these days. Things will have to be made tidier. No choice in it. The worst excesses must be reined in, I fully agree. Trouble is, once started, where does it all stop? If we are not careful, we shall end up with a damned democracy!”
Nat ruefully agreed. When once the floodgates were opened to change, then it might be impossible to bring a halt.
“Last thing we want, Montgomerie! Universal suffrage, I have heard calls for. Of all damned stupidity, that must be the ultimate!”
Montgomerie agreed.
“Not so much as a test of literacy demanded. The Oxford don and the village idiot, stepping up side by side to cast their single vote apiece, the one as valued as the other! The one the author of a dozen learned tomes, the other unable to scratch out his name, and each entitled to the same voice in our public affairs! Idiocy indeed!”
“It is certainly offensive. An absolute nonsense, in fact. I see no reason why the ordinary man should not be permitted to make his opinions known by way of the ballot. Those who are extraordinary, should surely be entitled to additional votes. On my own estates, I can see the arguments for my largest tenant farmer – a go-ahead man who is earning himself a good five hundred a year from his dairying and beef – to possess a vote. But I would expect more than that one vote myself, for being the landlord of a dozen and more of his sort.”
“And the don at Oxford to have his extra votes for possession and application of an intellect. The very notion of one man, one vote is offensive to common sense!”
They agreed it must be so. The country was not well run currently but democracy could only make it worse. Listen to the ordinary people, by all means. Ensure the man in the street was not abused – very right. But to make the Mob the Master, that could not be accepted.
“Could your battalions have prevailed at Waterloo as a howling democracy, Palfrey?”
“You know, that is a damned good question, Montgomerie. I truly believe our victory owed as much to the sergeants as it did to the officers. They stood, hour after hour, closing the gaps in the ranks, reducing four lines to three to two, pulling the wounded back and throwing the dead out from underfoot, and all done calmly and certainly. Without the sergeants, we would have failed. But, of course, without the officers, the sergeants would not have been there. During the First, Revolutionary, War, the French were far less organised at first. It was the People in Arms who threw back the Austrians at Valmy – I think it was Austrians, was it not? Twenty-five years after the event, I am not at all sure. What I am certain of is that the English could do equally well, Montgomerie.”
“And the Welsh! I do agree, Palfrey. Anything a bunch of Frogs could do, we could do better. They ended up with Bonaparte, of course, so we can see that democracy always comes to a bad end.”
That was unarguable, they agreed.
“The worst abuses must be reformed, and sooner rather than later, Montgomerie. Trouble is, who is to reform them? The only people with the power to introduce measures of reform are those who are currently benefitting from the corruption. I have every intention of tweaking Liverpool’s tail until he offers me something worth having – and that ain’t reformed by any definition!”
They laughed and donned their formal robes and made their way to the Chamber of the House of Lords, there to sit in solemn silence while the life and service of George III was solemnly commemorated.
“Funny thing, Montgomerie. They none of them said a word about America. He lost America single-handed. They would have been delighted to talk at any time in the first years of their war and would have come to an easy compromise. Had we offered a House of Commons to sit in America with absolute control of all matters American, and perhaps seats for fifty or so of American peers in the House of Lords in London where matters affecting both Britain and America could be resolved, they would have accepted, or so I am told. Farmer George would give them nothing, saying he was appointed by God and could not give away the powers that were divinely his.”
“Mad even then, it would seem, Palfrey. A pity. Still, a funeral oration is not the place for harsh reality. ‘Of the dead, let nothing but good be said’. Poor old fellow is unable to argue for himself, after all. He should not be convicted in absentia.”
They bowed and exchanged false smiles with Liverpool, happy he had noticed their presence at his shoulder, announcing where their votes would be cast, for the while at least. If he wanted to keep those votes for the long term, then it was up to him to secure them.
Chapter Ten
“Lord Liverpool wonders whether you might possibly be able to speak to him in Downing Street, Lord Palfrey. Tomorrow? For ten o’clock in the morning for a few minutes?”
“I am always at the Prime Minister’s convenience, sir. I shall be happy to attend him.”
“Very good, my lord!”
The flunkey made his bow and left the house, slipping a shilling to Sheldrake as he left.
Nat spotted the coin and started to laugh. The unwritten rules were clear – one did not tip another man’s butler except in unusual circumstances. If it was appropriate to do so, normally because one did not want it known one had been present in the house, then a half sovereign was the starting point, rising with the need for confidentiality.
“A shilling, Sheldrake? Was I you, I would have it framed, a memento of the occasion.”
“My lord, I know not what to say.”
Sheldrake stared blank-faced at the coin, permitting himself a slight, almost unnoticeable, shake of the head.
“There is nothing sensible to say, Sheldrake. My advice must be to say nothing. Give it to the kitchen boy – he can buy buns with it.”
“Certainly not, my lord. I shall retain it as a memento of the occasion. It would, after all, be rude to give away a token of the Prime Minister’s generosity.”
“Perfectly correct, Sheldrake. I am sure it will make a story at the Running Footman.”
That particular public house was the favourite of all manservants in Mayfair, was the source of every sort of gossip about the mighty. Popular imagination filled it with the secret people of the Home Office, all busily bribing butlers and valets to tell of their masters, and perhaps their mistresses.
“That is not a resort of mine, my lord. On those occasions I leave the house for a little of relaxation, I tend to frequent the King’s Arms. The company there is more exclusive, my lord, valets rarely to be seen.”
Nat bowed, the hierarchy of the great houses the cause of long-lasting feuds that could be exacerbated by any careless word from the master. Add to that, he knew that Samways veered to the unorthodox in his affections while Sheldrake certainly did not and occasionally tended to disapprove. That was none of his business and he would most definitely know nothing of it.
“I had not heard of the King’s Arms, Sheldrake. Is it a new house?”
“Not in itself, my lord, but recently changed hands and in the ownership of the retired butler to the Duke of Kensington, himself playing a lesser part and a son and grandsons performing the bulk of the work.”
Genteel and conventional in its attitudes, it would seem.
“Additionally, my lord, there is a degree of knowledge of the clientele, and a willingness to actively discourage those who might be of the wrong sort. Conversation at the King’s Arms is generally confidential, my lord.”
“That can only be desirable, Sheldrake.”
Nat was within reason certain that the story of the one shilling tip would pass anonymously around Mayfair, much to the detriment of Lord Liverpool. There would be many to suggest he was not quite the thing, the family newly ennobled and too close to the gutter to be desirable for a prime minister.
No doubt it was no more than a messenger in his employ who was undesirably close-fisted in his habits, yet Liverpool should have known better than use such a one. Potential supporters, hovering between Liverpool and the Whig Opposition would now require additional considerations before placing their votes with the government.
“Damned good thing, Montgomerie! Giving my man a bloody shilling! It holds me cheap as well.”
“It does too, Palfrey. What do you think Lord Liverpool will want of you tomorrow?”
“Not much. He will not offer me a place in his government. He will still be fencing with Prinny and will wish to make no changes in personnel as yet. I must imagine he will wish to offer me a gift of some sort, relatively minor as yet and with an implication that more will follow if I am good. Essentially, he will want it known that I have entered Number Ten and left content and smiling. Such will be observed and will be known to Prinny almost within the hour. It is a gambling game, in effect.”
Montgomerie was familiar with games of chance, had played occasionally in his youth, though never unwisely. He had gambled for pennies only.
“Ah, I see. Liverpool is placing a Palfrey on the table, with the implication that he has a Montgomerie in his hand still, and is inviting Prinny to put up an earl of his own or to fold, to refuse to play further.”
“Just that, Montgomerie. Neither party really wishes to come to a vote in the House of Commons, because that is to declare war, to publicly announce a dispute between the new King and the old Prime Minister, and the system works on behind-the-scenes compromise and give and take. This is as public as the battle becomes, and is setting out stakes that either side can afford to lose. My support is useful but vital to neither.”
“And myself even more so, being very much of the backwoods.”
“Precisely, Montgomerie.”
“Was we to add even three or four members of our own, we would become more valuable. I really think young Daffydd must be translated to Westminster rather quickly, Palfrey.”
“I must perhaps seek out a member or two of mine own, Montgomerie. I shall speak to Sir Angus Gould, the baronet whose lands march with mine, recently promoted from the ranks of Poole’s smugglers and made a gentleman. He undoubtedly will be able to point me towards a local member who will be delighted to claim me as a patron. The Gentlemen have lost the great bulk of their influence along the South Coast, almost overnight with the ending of the war. No doubt they owned a number of Members who must now be feeling the pinch and would greatly value a new benefactor.”
“None such in Wales, of course, Palfrey. It is a poor country, in the west and north, and I must imagine that a purse jingling with new-minted coin will be most attractive locally. I have the new slate quarrying which is a source of some riches and will bring the hopeful to me. There must be a general election to present the new King with his own Parliament, so there will be existing members who will wish to buy votes in their constituencies and will welcome even a few hundreds just now. I suspect we should be seen in Westminster the coming afternoon, Palfrey!”
Nat walked up to the front door of Downing Street at a carefully timed two minutes to ten ‘o clock. He was given immediate entry, as soon as he raised his hand to knock.
“Palfrey, good of you to come, my lord. Please sit down. I am, as always, in the devil’s own hurry, too damned much to do, and if I don’t do it myself, it will not get done.”
Liverpool’s desk was heaped with papers, all carefully ordered and clearly to be dealt with expeditiously, but there was too much there for any man to fully digest and give a reasoned response to.
“Glad to see you, and Montgomerie, sat on the right side of the House and offering thoughtful support as always, Palfrey. I am aware that I cannot expect to see you much this year after your great loss. You have my sympathy, my lord. I cannot compare your loss to the nation’s, Palfrey, because, to be plain, our tragedy is not so much the death as the successor! It would be much to my benefit was you and any other of your friendship to be present when the government kisses hands with the new King. One trusts he will wear gloves, by the way.”
Nat laughed, it having occurred to him that he would not like to make such close contact with Prinny’s flesh.
“It would be my pleasure, my lord.”
“Excellent! I will not be so crass as to talk of reward, Palfrey. I will assure you that I do not forget my friends, particularly at a time such as this when many do not scruple to sit where you are and attempt to auction their favours. I will say that I have noticed that you military men tend to be more scrupulous in your loyalty. The Regiment would seem to inculcate a sense of honour.”
“I was fortunate in my Regiment, my lord.”
“Having heard your story, they were lucky in you, Palfrey. I mentioned your name to the Duke a few weeks back and he told me that in his opinion, your regiment, bolstered by your example, was a major factor in the success at Waterloo. He said you should be known as an exemplar to every young officer. You did not charge off seeking glory but stood to your duty, a leg shot to pieces but standing to attention at the front of your men, under heavy fire, for another three hours, your leg supported by a pair of ramrods tied on. A remarkable achievement, my lord, and one that was insufficiently recognised at the time. Your new King is also aware of your actions, my lord, and I do not doubt will offer a belated acknowledgement of it.”
Nat bowed in his chair, made his thanks, offering the necessary demurrer.
