“Cleave to England, James! Our wealth depends on India first of all, and then on Canada, the Cape, the Antipodes, and eventually a dozen other colonies, I doubt not. Our interests do not lie on the European plain but in the Atlantic and Indian Oceans and on the Great South Sea. Stand for the navy and a small army that cannot get involved in Europe – they may be only twenty miles away from Dover, but that is no more than geography, and it is irrelevant to the needs of our industry and wealth.”
James took out his notebook and made the entry: the contiguity of Europe a mere incidental, not to be a cause of policy.
The dinner party was a success.
It should have been, because both families were in celebratory mood – it was obligatory to be jolly at weddings and during their preliminaries, the fighting could start afterwards.
Lord and Lady Ormsby were accompanied by all of their children and their spouses, very correctly, and they all had flattering things to say to their hosts. Possibly some of the compliments had been well rehearsed, but the proper words were said and were returned
“James has told me that he will sit with the Whig interest when the House next sits, Lord Andrews. I trust this will not lead to difficulties with his family, my lord.”
Ormsby very obviously assumed James to have consulted his father on this move, was simply confirming that all was well.
“We are a manufacturing clan, Lord Ormsby. I was brought into the Tory ranks on my first marriage, and the Party has been good to me, so much so that I could not display disloyalty, but I have some qualms about the wisdom of certain policies. The Corn Laws are an example, putting the interests of the large land-owners before the welfare of the country as a whole. I possess an estate, as you know, and benefit greatly from the artificially high price of wheat; my mill hands and foundry and shipyard workers are unable to eat white bread because of its price, so I can see both sides of the argument. James I know feels sympathy for the real grievances of the common man – I have observed that many good subalterns have a respect for their private soldiers, and James was the best of young officers until he lost his leg. He will feel more comfortable amongst the Whigs, I believe, though what he will say to your Radicals, I know not!”
“I much expect him to say the same as me, my lord – nothing!”
They laughed together, knowing that there were many issues more important than party.
“I have not met Mr Quarrington before, Lord Andrews – Welsh Marcher family, I believe, a large estate and married into the Minchinhamptons. I rather believe I heard that the gentleman’s late father inclined towards Quakerism.”
“I have known Mr Quarrington for more than twenty years; we met at my wedding, his father being related to the Masters by marriage. He was a very young boy then, but is very much his own man now. There was never a breach with his father, but Mr Quarrington was not inclined towards an excess of any form of religion. He was a merchant for some years, trading much overseas, very profitably, I know. He is now settled into a respectable course and is endeavouring to re-establish the family’s interests in the wider world. I suspect that he inclines more towards the commercial than the landed parties, and might well be inclined to look favourably on a change of Administration.”
The Quarringtons owned four Parliamentary Boroughs, currently in the possession of gentlemen who sat on the government backbenches. The offer of a profitable retirement would encourage the existing members not to stand at the next election so that their places might be taken by nominees of the Whigs – but only with the absolute approval and permission of the proprietor. Theoretically a member was governed solely by his conscience and could take his stance on the highest of moral grounds; unless he had a very substantial private income he was, however, well advised to listen very carefully to the owner of the borough, and almost all rich would-be politicians sat for their own family seats.
Ormsby took the message aboard – Quarrington was available to the Opposition, but only if the price was right. He would not seek direct monetary reward, would not be offered it, but he would look to the next Whig Prime Minister to deliver much of value to him. Four seats in the House of Commons; even a good knighthood would not be sufficient, he would have to be made baronet at the very least, but Lord Liverpool could match that honour without any wait for an election.
“Has Mr Quarrington any brothers, my lord?”
He was an only son, which was a pity – a brother made ambassador or given a colonial governorship could be very persuasive.
He had been a merchant, Ormsby noted – perhaps a place on the board of East or West Indies Company would be of interest. A director of either company could generally expect to speculate to the tune of ten thousand a year or more, being placed to hear all of the inside knowledge. A word with the leaders of the party in Parliament must be the next step, the arrangements made before Mr Quarrington returned to the wilds of Herefordshire or wherever.
“Who is that in conversation with Mr Quarrington, my lord? I do not believe I recognise the lady.”
“Mrs Plenderleith, a widow lady, the daughter of Viscount Hawker.”
“Ah!”
Ormsby had heard that story, as had almost everybody who was anybody – the young lady who had married the broken-down old landowner and had presented him with a well-grown six-month daughter very soon before his death in surprisingly comfortable circumstances. Well… such things had happened before and no doubt would again, though not in the Ormsby family he believed.
“The two appear to be on terms, my lord.”
“I believe they have been acquainted for a number of years, since my first wedding, in fact.”
The bland tone of the response alerted Ormsby – that was well worth knowing if Quarrington was to become in any way active in the party, both scandal and handle.
“I remember, do I not, that Lord Star succeeded to Plenderleith in his estates after the Crash of Ninety-Five. I believe the gentleman had speculated, whilst, as all know, you and Lord Star had not.”
“Coincidence, my lord, but it is correct. Lord Star has made his estate into one of the most modern in the North Country, aided very much by his eldest son’s wife who has transformed his park.”
Ormsby assimilated the statement as he circulated – as a guest of honour he was obliged to exchange a few words with all present. What was the meaning of the comment about the Stars’ park? The eldest son’s wife? An implication that the son was not available to the national political scene, perhaps? He must make enquiries.
The matter of party alignment was becoming a little more urgent as it became more and more likely that the Tory hegemony was coming to an end. In past years there had always been a single overriding issue that could unite the Tories – the monarchy and the long war especially – but now the new issues were tending to divide them.
Emancipation for Catholics, for example - which must also include freedom of conscience for Jews and every other sub-variety of faith in the country – was an essential condition for any settlement of the Irish Question, but it was splitting the Party. Reform was raising its head, there being a need to bring the middle order of people into political orthodoxy by giving them the vote; while the House of Commons remained wholly unrepresentative then too many educated men could only find a political career in rabble-rousing. The alternatives seemed to be to suppress the thousand pound a year people or enfranchise them, and the musket had at least as many adherents as the ballot, neither side able to understand the other.
The opportunities for the Whigs to prosper were increasing, but only if they could organise themselves after their generation in opposition. The fixers in the party, the backwoods peers and a few wealthy manufacturers, who would not themselves take office but who to a great extent determined which party members should, found themselves having to become much more active. Out of office it was possible to tolerate Radicals and their demands for an instant paradise on Earth, but with government in prospect it was very necessary to relegate these
visionaries to the most obscure of roles and to pack the benches with reliable, right-thinking men and Ormsby and several others were always on the look-out for recruits.
This led to the difficulty that every intelligent and unbiased observer could see what was happening, and set themselves up to profit from it. Lord Andrews had offered his son to the Whigs and had now put Quarrington in their way; he would not have done it out of the goodness of his pure heart, so what was his price?
Book Seven: A Poor Man
at the Gate Series
Chapter Five
James was wed to Miss Jennifer Welham with all of the pomp and ceremony the Ormsbys could afford – and they were a rich family.
The service was held at St George’s, a dean from Lincoln Cathedral - a cousin of my lord’s and well recommended for the next convenient, civilised, southern bishopric - imported for the occasion; a not unusual occurrence for Society weddings and one that contributed to the rector’s plump pocket. A choir was brought in from the Opera House to lend elegance to the many hymns - the ladies warned to be on their best behaviour and not to catch the eyes of gentlemen known to them - and the sermonising was restricted to five minutes of bland admonition, to the relief of the congregation. The band of the Foot Guards was present in place of an organ, in tribute to James’ military career, curtailed though it had been, and a whole company was placed on the pavement to either side of the doors to keep the vulgar at a distance.
The chapel was full, Masters and Tories on the bridegroom’s side, Ormsbys and Whigs behind the bride, all happily exchanging greetings, politics suspended for the duration.
Tom counted five Ministers of the Crown; Canning was prominent as well, reminding all of his place as potential heir apparent to the Party leadership, though not himself currently in office due to his resignation during his latest temper tantrum.
Every member of the Whig front bench was sat in the pews next to a fashionable wife, mostly their own.
“A latter-day Guy Fawkes could behead the leadership of the country in one explosion,” Tom muttered to Frances.
“Was I not here myself, I might cheer him on,” she replied, stifling a yawn.
The wedding breakfast was held at the Ormsbys town house; regrettably, he employed an English cook.
A ball followed, in the normal course of things, the whole of Society present, it seemed. Lady Castlereagh was prominent; Lord Castlereagh was not though he was certainly in the country. The charitable supposed that my lord was busy with the affairs of the Congress of Verona, which was breaking down; those in the know had other suspicions.
“The man is insatiable, sir,” Robert told his father. “He has been back to us again and has mortgaged another out-of-the-way piece of land in Scotland. I believe this to be the fifth time in three years he has paid off extortionists.”
“Will you continue to accommodate him, Robert?”
“I have intimated to him that we might find it difficult to make further advances. He said, in all seriousness, that he did not expect ‘any continuation of his current problems’.”
Bride and groom withdrew from the festivities to polite good wishes and the ball grew a little louder, the drinking much heavier, the atmosphere still light.
The Duke of Wellington, habitually a late-comer, entered the house and proceeded to dance with the prettiest of the women, again a habit. He was introduced to Tom, evidently at his request.
“I hear your boy is lost to the Party, Lord Andrews.”
“He is, Your Grace; we are manufacturers, after all. As well, it seems to the family that it will not be unwise to join those offering… a counter-balance one might say, to the less edifying elements who have surfaced amongst the Whigs in the past decade or so. My son is not a young man of deeply thought out and held convictions, I believe, but he has a value for decency in all things and is committed to the service of his country.”
Tom stopped, thought over what he had just said.
“My word, Your Grace, I had not realised I could sound quite so pompous! I think my meaning is clear enough, however.”
“It is, my lord, and I think as you do – ‘moderation in all things’ is a good motto and service is much to be commended amongst young men – there are too many damn fools strutting the streets, to my mind.”
Tom agreed; he had little use for the lounging Men about Town.
“Steamships, Lord Andrews – your people make them, I believe. What are the prospects of a fast steamship service to India?”
“None, duke! Ocean-going steamships are not a viable prospect yet, nor will they be for many years. Eventually, yes, but not in our lifetimes, I fear. A more likely prospect is that of the steam trackway. I visited the long trackway building near Darlington recently, and that will be in efficient operation within a year or two. As a possibility, duke, a trackway to Dover, another from Calais to Marseilles, a third from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, and I suspect that Bombay might be no more than two months distant.”
“The French would certainly allow our troops passage. The Ottoman probably would not.”
“Then it might be wise, duke, to bring Egypt into our ambit.”
Tom had been primed by Robert to mention the value of Egypt to the English; he was not sure why but was happy to oblige his son.
“The authority of the Ottomans has not recovered from the French adventuring at the turn of the century, of course, and the Levant Committee has made representations to government. There is a deal of trade with the Near and Middle East, one understands, and much disrupted by the breakdown of order in the Ottoman lands. Whilst I am aware that England has no wish to take colonies, duke - it is not for us to build an Empire such as the Austrians and Russians have and Bonaparte attempted – yet it is only reasonable that we should protect our traders and their legitimate interests. The imposts accruing to the Exchequer from overseas trade are a major reason why, for example, the iniquitous Income Tax is no longer a necessity.”
The government had been unable to balance its books since its abolition of Income Tax, was borrowing and cutting its expenditure to less than necessary levels, but Liverpool was incapable of increasing the level of taxation for fear of creating disorder which could not be suppressed because of the small size of the army, which he could not afford to increase. Extra revenues from foreign trade was a very tempting prospect, a true panacea.
“Provided it could be done cheaply, Lord Andrews, then it might well be appropriate to bring peace and stability to the less advanced parts of the world.”
Wellington had great influence, though was not yet skilled in applying it in the English political field; his voice would be valuable.
“You are the Iron Master, of course. Have you ever given thought to the manufacture of a more effective musket for our armies, Lord Andrews?”
“A breech-loading rifle, duke? Faster, more powerful, accurate – there are a number of examples in existence, the Ferguson notably, and all require steel rather than iron, and steel costs, at a quick estimate, ten times as much as iron, is slower to make and demands the services of highly-skilled craftsmen. Find me a way to produce steel cheaply and I will re-equip the whole army, happily. With the limitations on steel production we now face – each rifle would cost at least sixty guineas and would take a month and more to craft by hand, and I believe that it might just be possible to produce a thousand a year using every master tradesman I employ.”
Wellington shrugged, it could not be done.
“The Russians fielded a number of battalions of archers during the last years of the war, Lord Andrews. They were within reason effective. Given the old English longbow they would have been the best-armed infantry on any field. I asked of Horse Guards whether it was possible to recruit longbowmen, you know, but it seems it takes ten years of training from childhood and the skills are lost.”
Tom took the fortuitous opportunity.
“We are short of every skill in England, duke. We should build a thousand of colleges to t
rain up the brightest and best of our boys as engineers and artificers of every trade. We have invented the manufactury, duke, and now we cannot work them effectively for lack of cunning hands. I think that nine boys out of ten in our towns cannot read or write – more are learning as grown men than as children. I have opened an Institute for steam engineers near Liverpool, which will produce perhaps one in a hundred of all who will be needed in the next generation, and even there, with my pick of the orphanages, selecting the alert and cleverest, most must first be taught their letters.”
“It is not the place of government to usurp the functions of the parent, Lord Andrews.”
“And where the parent lacks literacy and money both, duke?”
“With good will all things may be achieved, my lord – but not by the powers of government interfering in the free man’s home.”
“So be it, duke, but I fear that other countries whose governments have fewer scruples will overtake us.”
Wellington was not too concerned by that prospect – he was an agriculturalist at heart.
“What is James to do with his new farm, Papa?”
Charlotte, much bound up in her new estate, felt the question to be important.
“A bailiff, I presume, though that is an expense that a single farm can hardly afford. We must talk over the question of a tenant – the previous owner farmed his land himself, I understand, and did a damned poor job of it, my dear! What are you doing with your acres?”
“My husband’s brother, Mr Bob Star, has the sheepwalk, properly rented; all of the open moorland is his, I know not exactly how many acres but he is paying more than one thousand a year. That leaves a great expanse of crag and fell which is of little value – in places there are pockets of useful soil and we are planting trees where the wind will not be too great. Hardly a profitable venture, but there is much to be said for clumps of trees wherever possible.”
Trees would add to the variety of Nature, much to be encouraged by the Romantics.
The Old Order (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 7) Page 12
