Nothing New on the Land (The Agricultural Lord Palfrey Book 3), page 6
“I am to take a gun out with me when walking Master Thomas. Samways informs me it is obligatory.”
Moorman had no particular liking for the valet, finding him too often to be a spy on all that was happening on the estate, far too much inclined to inform my lord of matters that were truly unimportant.
“If Mr Samways says it is to be so, then who am I to argue, my lord. You should have a gamekeeper to go out with you in such case. That will demand a man from outside the estate, my lord. We have none who could take the role. Two weeks, my lord, to pass the word to the other estates in the county and to employ a younger son of a head keeper who has grown up in the work and needs a place of his own. Easily done, my lord. I shall go to the markets and pass the word.”
“Thank you. I will take a look in the room, see what we have in the way of guns there.”
“Best you should wait until the keeper comes, my lord. He will discover what is ours and what accrues to the verderer and ensure no toes are trodden on.”
It seemed to Nat that his own toes were being trodden on. He did not expect to be told to keep out of rooms in his own house. It was wiser, however, to do as he was told by those who knew better than him – which seemed to include far too many of his own people.
“One must ask, my lord, whether you are generally competent with a gun. It will be easy to tip the gamekeeper the wink to show you the way to handle a scattergun.”
“Major Lord Palfrey, Moorman?”
The agent had the grace to instantly apologise.
“One forgets your military background, my lord. You habitually show both intellectually able and simply well-mannered. That does tend to reduce your military aspects. One is used perhaps to the overweight and under-educated in the onetime soldier. The absence of scarlet cheeks and presence of unfailing courtesy are neither indicators of a prolonged sojourn in the Mess.”
“You know, Moorman, I should indignantly deny your implications – but I am unfortunately honest. There are soldiers renowned for their courtesy and also as generally clever gentlemen. The Duke is an obvious example, but Daddy Hill is rightly dear to every military man who has ever met him. The problem is that after that one comes to a dead halt – it is terribly difficult to find others of that ilk. However, that two of the most renowned soldiers should be able and courteous is something to be proud of in England. Though, of course, the Duke is Irish.”
“One forgets that too, my lord. He is renowned as a capable gentleman, nothing of the Paddy about him.”
“He is indeed. Of course, he is the right sort of Irishman, but, then, so is Lord Castlereagh.”
“The Secretary for Foreign Affairs? The most able of men, my lord. He is the leader of the whole of Europe, undoubtedly.”
“He is most certainly doing well for the prospects of a lasting peace, and is able to balance the demands of Austria and Russia, one against the other. He is a remarkable gentleman.”
Moorman noted a lack of enthusiasm, a woodenness in Nat’s words, wondered just what he was covering up. It was almost impossible to ask the direct question.
“That said, my lord, what are your immediate intentions? Are you to go to London in the immediate future?”
“Later this month, certainly I must. Parliament will be sitting and I wish to show my face in the Upper Chamber. I must patronise my bookshop as well, and will wish to consider a Christmas present for Thomas. I know not what, off hand. I must solve that problem myself, being unable to ask my lady for the answer. I shall be away no more than three weeks, I expect. Be so good as to send a letter to Sheldrake to open Perry House, looking for me to arrive next week.”
Chapter Five
“Selborne? Where is that?”
“In the north of Southamptonshire, my lord. The Reverend White was born there and spent the bulk of his life in and around the parish. The book, my lord, records his observations of the land, its birds and animals and many of the plants and trees. It is well written and offers a clarity of observation that can be of value to all who love the Land. It has sold many tens of thousands of copies, my lord.”
Few books could claim that, Nat knew. He bought a copy.
Sat in his workroom at Perry House he read in fascination. He returned to Hatchards next day and bought another copy, inscribed the flyleaf with a recommendation to his son to read and enjoy the noble work.
He wondered if he was pointing the boy towards a reclusive backwoods existence, turning him towards a life on his estate, almost never to venture out into Society.
It was possible, he admitted, wondering whether that was so very undesirable.
The wealth he would inherit suggested he should not moulder in obscurity. If he did so he might slowly, inevitably lose his riches, his agents and advisers in London lining their own pockets without his presence to examine their books and watch them. He must be seen to be seen – was he visible and able to take advice then he would not be a target for the gull-catchers.
That meant that Nat himself must be a part of Society, present in Town and his children with him, naturally meeting other families. He must not himself disappear from view, much though he might prefer to. He must return to Town for the Season, or some part of it, taking his seat in the Lords frequently, displaying himself in public. He did not wish to, but duty made its demands.
The following afternoon saw him present in the Upper Chamber, listening to debate and deciding yet again that the bulk of the peerage was comprised of the tedious and the banal. Almost all were capable of recognising there were problems in their fair land. Virtually every speaker ended with the same cry – ‘Something must be done’. None of them specified, ‘what’.
The country was experiencing a downturn in trade. Wages, prices, the volume of trade, all were falling. Many of the larger estates were finding their tenants unable to pay their rents, hitting the lords in their pockets. The causes were unknown, the solution hidden, but undoubtedly ‘something must be done’.
Lord Sidmouth proposed to hang, flog and transport every idle workingman who asked for an increase in his wages. This was generally applauded. A dozen peers in a row stood and supported his noble proposal but demanded that all poachers should also be added to list of those to swing. The paid representative of the Sugar Interest of the West Indies suggested that money wasted on the anti-slavery patrols in the Atlantic could instead be spent on additional soldiers to suppress disorder in England. Additionally, transportation could properly be extended to send the idle to work on the plantations where there were whips in plenty to cure their laziness.
Nat was unimpressed, bowed to the Lord Chancellor and left the chamber.
In the lobbies, making his way out, he was buttonholed by an unknown, smiling gentleman who begged a minute or two of his time.
“My lord, so kind of you to give me your attention! I have the privilege of representing a number of gentlemen busy in the trade to the Sugar Islands. There is a feeling they are much traduced in the press and in public conversation and are attempting to explain their misunderstood avocation to individuals of discretion and authority.”
Nat smiled his kindest and asked if he was in fact representing the Slavery Interest.
“Not so much slavery, although the welfare of bonded servants is in part in my mind, but the whole nature of the rich West India trade, my lord.”
There was a distinct emphasis on the word ‘rich’. Nat had heard that the Slavers were able to put ten thousands in the pocket of any man who pledged himself to them, and would repeat the dose after five years or so of loyalty.
“I am Palfrey.”
If the lobbyist was awake to his trade, he would know the name and be aware that ten thousands would be little more than an insult. He could not be expected to recognise every face in the Lords, the more because at least one hundred peers never attended at the Chamber with any frequency, some being unseen for twenty years at a stretch. Of the at most four hundred peers with the right to sit on the benches of the House of Lords barely one hundred habitually did so. A new face was therefore potentially valuable to any of the factions and parties, provided the new man was not so rich as to be his own master. Palfrey had so much money that he potentially could be his own faction.
“Ah! My apologies for not instantly recognising you, my lord. Might I enquire whether you are interested in the Atlantic trade?”
“Not at all, sir. The vilenesses of the Trade have been made unlawful to Englishmen these last ten years and I am deeply unconcerned with the wailing of the slavemasters as they face an ending to their evil.”
Nat turned his shoulder to the presumptuous little man and carried on out of the building. He was a little disappointed in him, had thought he might at least have presented some sort of argument or proposition to amuse him. He suspected the fellow was no more than a lawyer, prostituting himself to the rich in a slightly different fashion.
“Good day, my lord.”
He exchanged bows with Lord Alvanley, accepted his elegantly expressed commiserations on his loss, commented on being accosted by a mere lawyer in the precincts of the House, apparently drumming up support for the Slavery people. He knew that the West Indians had presented the Prince Regent with a substantial purse in a preceding year and still enjoyed his favour.
“Very low, some of the employees of the various causes to be found seeking support at Westminster, Palfrey. I do trust the fellow stopped short of offering you money.”
“I cut him short before he could do so, Alvanley. I trust he may recognise me if we meet again. I am here to show my face, having returned to public activity after my loss. I shall not be present in the coming Season, less than a year after, but I must not become reclusive, which would be easy to do. I have the children who must grow up to know their equals – they must not be hidden away in rural seclusion. That said, I return to Dorset at the end of the week.”
“So very difficult, Palfrey. In the midst of life… To lose one’s lady in such a fashion can lead one to question the Divine Plan.”
“More than question, Alvanley. I was in any case too many years a soldier to believe in the goodness of any deity. I saw too much in Spain particularly to succumb to that delusion.”
“Indeed, Palfrey, one has heard rumours of misconduct in Spain that are more than a little disturbing.”
“I think, my lord, that those of us who saw the reality wish never to remember it. The French ravaged their way through the whole country, performing acts so vile that they cannot be spoken of. The British generally behaved far better, but when let off the leash in sack of taken towns, they were equally wicked. Badajoz, Ciudad Rodrigo, San Sebastian, must stain the honour of Britain’s military for all time.”
“As I say, I have heard of such but none will ever actually say what they saw, Palfrey.”
“Do not ask me, my lord! I wish to sleep tonight. Simply imagine, my lord, the evillest acts possible. All were committed at Ciudad Rodrigo, repeatedly. None were safe from the ravages of the soldiers. The Duke in the end was forced to set up a gallows in the streets and drive the foulest offenders to it and hang them out of hand as a message to the rest. It took days to return the town to order.”
Alvanley was saddened that such acts should have been committed by Englishmen. It was not as the world should be.
“I am sure you are right, my lord. I must away, I am awaited by my man of business who has not lately received the attention I should have given him. I was in no state to attend to my affairs for too many days, my lord.”
“Wiggins, I must apologise for delaying you. I was kept at the Lords. A most unpleasant, greasy little man attempted to bring me to the cause of the slavers in the Sugar Islands. Should he buttonhole you, I would be most obliged was you to send him to the rightabout!”
“Oblique offers have been made already, my lord. I have dismissed them, of course. A sweetener of ten thousand pounds is but an insult to us!”
“Exactly so, Wiggins. Now, what is our business for today?”
“None, sir, as far as I am concerned. I must tell you that I have purchased a little house on the Isle of Wight, not so far outside Ventnor, and there I am to spend my retirement, as from tomorrow. I have handed all over to Mr O’Rourke as of this day. Today, my lord, is my farewell. My partner has bought me out, very properly, and the firm is now O’Rourkes. I much trust you will retain the gentleman’s services.”
O’Rourke himself was called from his inner office and stood before Nathaniel. They had met previously on frequent occasions and the Irish attorney had shown himself able and knowledgeable in the law and public affairs.
“I must hope you will do as well for me as Wiggins has, O’Rourke. You are my legal steward henceforth and have the same rights as Wiggins had to commit my funds according to your own discretion. The fact that you are Wiggins’ choice leads to expect nothing but good of you. Have you proposals to make this day?”
“I have indeed, my lord. Might we sit down in the office?”
Evidently O’Rourke expected to take some little time in making his propositions.
“Coffee, my lord?”
“Not while we are indulging in business, thank you, O’Rourke. Coffee is known as a stimulant as well as a pleasing beverage. It is as well to be balanced when considering business.”
“Then I shall commence, my lord. Ship building, my lord, in iron with steam power. There is a steaming ship in Scotland working the inland waterways and doing well. She is called Charlotte Dundas, presumably in homage to the one-time First Lord’s family. I believe we can be associated with a better machine. The aim, my lord, will be to work the Thames, from London Bridge to Ramsgate for passengers and from the Pool of London to the Channel itself as a towing vessel. If successful, then we shall no longer see merchantmen windbound in the Downs for weeks at a time. Merchants will pay, substantially, for a gain of weeks, perhaps a month and more on the passage to foreign parts.”
Nat was inclined to be impressed. An invention and an immediate profitable use for it. That was a recipe for profit, provided only the invention was successful.
“Have you an engineer, an invention, a location for a manufactory, an idea of costs, O’Rourke?”
“I have, my lord. I know where to buy wrought and cast iron, and the substantial amount of timber also needed. I have a shipwright identified. There is an existing yard on the North Kent coast, on the Medway, which will be available to us. Any number of shipyards that worked to the Navy have empty slips, the Navy no longer purchasing new vessels. I need to invest less than ten thousand pounds initially, my lord, and as much again for two following years. Thereafter, my calculations say we should be breaking even and within another two years venturing into profit. It is a long speculation, my lord, but I believe may be remarkably worthwhile years from now.”
“Then let us examine the prospect carefully, O’Rourke. Have you written it up?”
“I have, my lord.”
“I shall take the proposals with me and sit down with them tonight, and for as long as I need to read them through. I am initially most tempted, O’Rourke. I do believe some part of my fortune should be devoted to the encouragement of trade in this land of ours.”
Nat took the four folders back to Perry House and spent the evening with them. He slept on the proposal and returned to it following a leisurely breakfast. In late morning he made his way back to the City and to O’Rourke’s presence.
“An interesting set of arguments, sir. Have you discovered, named that is, an engineer who is to be the manager of the whole concern? We will have some need of a mechanical genius to design and build the engine and the wheels that power the ships. As well, we will need access to a furnace that can produce and roll for us the wrought iron sheets for the hull. On top of that, there will be some rather precise castings, needing to be made infallibly to size and quality. It is these details that make so great a difference, sir.”
“That is so, my lord, but, I do not doubt that when our scheme becomes known, engineers will beat a path to our door. ‘Build a better mousetrap, my lord…’
“Maybe so, O’Rourke, but few mousetraps cost ten thousand pounds. I repeat that I much like the concept but the process of turning the idea into iron floating in the river seems worryingly vague. Must the hull be of iron? Can we make a pulling boat with a strong wooden hull? That there must be a steam engine seems clear to me, but I suspect we might do better, step by step.”
O’Rourke was inclined to espouse modernity above all. The process should be of a giant leap into the future, he suggested.
“Not with my money, sir. Produce a plan for a wooden-hulled pulling ship and introduce to me the engineer who will put steam in it. Then we may go ahead with the beginning of your visionary project, sir. For the while, let us keep ourselves safely into the North Country and its many projects.”
O’Rourke accepted it must be so, but showed definitely disappointed. Nat wondered whether he might be wise to look about him for another man of business. He wanted a gentleman to be wholly committed to his interests, not to be hankering after wonderful, Utopian projects.
He had to make a decision, he suspected, to choose whether he was to join the ranks of the committed industrialists – as a few called themselves – or to be a part of rural England. The profits were to be found in the mills and mines, no doubt of that; his interests lay much more in creating a prosperous countryside, though he was not sure that was possible. Of a certainty, he did not want any part of the new towns of the North Country, with their unending riot and hatred. If he became part of the masters of the North then he also accepted responsibility for letting the military loose to control those towns. The recent outrage at St Peter’s Fields was out of the ordinary, but every employer of the industrial parts took some of the blame for what was becoming known as the Peterloo Massacre. Cavalry – of course – had shown itself both indisciplined and vicious; there was no doubt that women and children had been deliberately cut down.
