"Expensive, though."
"My father has taught me that most things come with a price, sir. Something that comes for free is normally worth exactly what it costs."
Brougham laughed - the young man probably had a point, might not be the dullard he had seemed.
"Can Empire be consistent with any extension of the democratic principle, Mr Andrews?"
"Can responsible government be consistent with that concept, sir? Good government must sometimes be unpopular, taking hard decisions for the greater long-term benefit of all. As an example, sir, the successful conclusion of the war against Bonaparte demanded sacrifices that a democracy might not have tolerated - yet the world is a far better place without him. That there must be reform of the franchise seems unquestionable, sir, but to go as far as democracy, to give the unwashed and unlettered the vote, seems to me a very dangerous step. Amongst other things, sir, a democracy must surely extend the power to vote to women, to criminals, to paupers even - a dubious proposition, I believe."
Brougham paused, taken aback by such a ridiculous idea - there was democracy, as the Greeks had known it, and there was mobocracy such as Mr Andrews was referring to - surely the two could not be confused!
"Yes, well, one must define one's terms, I suspect, Mr Andrews. You seem to support at least a reform of the current untidiness, sir?"
"Rotten boroughs and pocket boroughs must go, sir. I sit for one such myself, but really I cannot justify being elected by the votes of two score or fewer of my patron's tenants. There must be an open property qualification, I would suggest, and an allocation of seats more evenly across the whole country. I believe that in much of the country forty pound freeholders may be called to jury service, together with one hundred pound copyholders. If one can sit in judgement of a man's life then I would suggest that one should be regarded as qualified to vote."
Copyholders were mostly tenant farmers who had inherited the right to rent their land over many generations; they tended to be comfortably well-off and very much set in their ways, most unlikely to demand revolutionary change of Parliament. A forty pound freeholder owned property worth sixteen shillings or more in weekly rent, some four times as much as a labourer generally paid; they would be shopkeepers at a minimum and would include the whole of the professions, again a conservative sort of grouping.
Brougham agreed - the proposal had been frequently made and was almost set to become Whig policy. It seemed that the young man was sound in his ideas and it might be wise to enrol him amongst the members of his faction, Whigs who felt that Brougham should be appointed to high office on the formation of a friendly government. There was the Catholic question, of course, the matter of whether the barriers to Catholic participation in public life should remain - but that crossed all boundaries and was better avoided if possible. There was one problem, however...
"Your lady wife is a daughter to Lord Ormsby is she not, sir?"
"She is indeed, Mr Brougham."
Ormsby was one of those who disliked Brougham's intellectual arrogance and his dismissal of sporting country gentlemen as a form of parasitic vermin not too dissimilar to the foxes they so enthusiastically pursued.
Perhaps he should not seek actively to recruit Mr Andrews to his cause, but he must certainly remain on terms with him.
"How do you stand on slavery, Mr Andrews?"
"Against it, sir. Most strongly. I have never come into contact with the institution but my father has, and so also has his close friend Lord Star, and they detest it. I am happy to be persuaded by them in this matter."
"Quite right too! It is a shameful blot upon our civilisation that we still permit slaveholding in the Sugar Islands, and in disguised form in the Cape. Slavery must be ended throughout the whole of the Earth, sir."
"An Empire could perhaps do so, Mr Brougham. I doubt that much less would provide the necessary power. And what is to be done in America, I know not, sir."
"Good point, Mr Andrews. One that I shall bear in mind, sir."
"What do we know of Brougham, Jennifer?"
"Papa does not hold him in affection, my dear. He tells me that Brougham much wishes to become Lord Chancellor - he is a lawyer and would dearly love to become head of the legal profession in England."
"A powerful position in any government. Is he reliable?"
"Papa thinks not, but believes that he would do less harm as Lord Chancellor than in any other post, and he is sufficiently popular in the party that he must be appointed to the Cabinet if a Whig government is formed."
"So be it. Have we company to dinner tonight?"
"None, sir. We are alone for this evening - for the only time this week. Your parents and brother Robert tomorrow, then we go to dine with my sister Rosemary and her esteemed husband and whatever company they have gathered together. On Friday we are invited to the Marquis, together with all of the Masters in Town, I understand, meeting your Papa again."
"I am surprised that my stepmama will be so active - she must be six months with child by now, which cannot but be a burden bearing in mind that she will not see five and thirty again and it is a first."
"Both are delighted, and she is so proud and amazed, having, she has confided to me, never thought such an event to be likely to occur. I am very glad that it has, are not you?"
"I am pleased, very much so. Importantly, so is Robert and I know he has already discussed plans for the inheritance of the child. He, or she, will be no less well-off than I, my dear, and I believe that Robert has the intention to open his nursery to the little one if the unfortunate need should arise."
Brutally practical, but childbirth was not without dangers and was positively hazardous for the older lady.
"A letter from Joseph, James, an Express."
He took the package immediately, opening it with some trepidation - Joseph would not have laid out more than three pounds without reason.
"His wife has been brought to bed of a boy. A hard delivery and she is unwell, the baby very weak. He has been baptised."
A baby that seemed like to die would be received into the church immediately - there would be no delay for ceremony and celebration.
"I must go to him. Will you come?"
"If you can delay one hour, then yes. I must write notes to our hosts for the coming week, offering apologies and explanation."
"It will take at least an hour to order up a post chaise and four."
The house turned upside down, bags packed, word sent to all who needed to know, and they were sat in the chaise by midday, post-boys instructed to make haste, to push the horses hard and change them frequently, gold promised.
"How is the moon tonight?"
The roads were unlit and the lanterns on the chaise insufficient to drive by; a cloud-free sky and a full moon would allow them to continue through the night on good turnpikes.
It came on to rain and the chance of travelling through the dark hours vanished.
Pushing as hard as they could they were still two nights on the road, and thought they had done well for February. They reached a shuttered house, wreath on the knocker, Joseph in unrelieved black.
"The babe died yesterday, James. Mary is not at all strong but seems not to be fevered. She is, of course, very unhappy."
Lady Star and Elizabeth joined them, faces long.
"She is deeply distressed, too much so, perhaps, for her own good. She has taken no nourishment, is convinced that she is being punished for her unwomanly nature, for lack of a motherly spirit. I fear for her, Mr Andrews."
Elizabeth, rational to the core of her being, agreed - she could not see Mary ever rising from this bed.
They said the little they could, tried to offer comfort, forced Joseph to eat a meal with them, to act as a host should.
The doctor arrived for the third visit of the day, came downstairs with no cheer to offer, took James to one side as he moved to the door, his words to be given to the man of the house not to his womenfolk.
"She has turned her face t
o the wall, sir. You are Mr Andrews' elder brother, I presume?"
"Mr James Andrews, sir. The eldest of the family, Mr Robert, was out of London when the news arrived. He will, I doubt not, be here later today or tomorrow, probably in the company of Lord Andrews."
"I do not believe that the lady will survive the night, sir - there is no will, no vital spirit, to sustain her. I shall return later this evening, sir, but fear I will be able to do very little."
The doctor moved to leave, took a second look at James, shook his head in dismay.
"I am so very sorry, sir! I have kept you standing in the hallway - I did not see your leg, sir, a shameful confession for a medical man! I do apologise, can only offer my distress at my inability to be of service to the lady; as family physician I have known her for many years. Please take a seat, sir - you have, I suspect, a long night before you."
James limped back to the withdrawing room, caught Elizabeth's eye.
"Can you send a message to Lord Star and Thomas? They should be here, and soon, as well as any others of the family who can be reached."
She nodded.
"Our coachman is here. I will send him now."
James was grateful for her sense - no lamentations, no despair, her grief not permitted to overcome her.
Elizabeth came back into the room, sending a maid upstairs to discover whether they could return to the bedroom.
"She is asleep, the nurse at her side. There will be a message the instant she stirs - if she does."
The house filled, both families arriving and finding nothing to do or say, simply waiting almost in silence.
The doctor returned, the rector in his company, spent five minutes upstairs, sent word that her parents should come up, met them outside the chamber.
"My lord, my lady, I am sorry. Your daughter is asleep, more truly in coma; she will not wake again, I judge. You will wish to make your farewells. I shall remain until the end comes, or to assist if she does show signs of recovery."
"Yet she was always so strong, so active and busy and determined a girl!"
"It is the Will of God, my lord - and beyond mortal man to understand, I fear. I believe her sister to have six healthy children now, and I am unable to explain why it should be so that she is different. I wish I had greater knowledge."
"My eldest daughter, Lady Armstrong, recently gave birth to a strong girl - and she is well and busy in her mansion again. It is beyond my comprehension, doctor."
The rector led them in prayer, the forms having to be observed, and then they watched as Mary's breathing grew shallower, wept as it ended, utterly helpless.
James pushed a glass of brandy into his brother's hand, not at all convinced that it would do him any good, unable to think of anything better.
"Can you stay for the funeral, Robert?"
"I must."
"What can we do for him, James?" Tom was at a loss - the boy had not yet reached his majority, surely lacked the emotional stamina to cope with such tragedy.
"He will blame himself, sir, and I do not know what I will be able to say to him."
Robert agreed and could not imagine how to persuade him otherwise.
"Charlotte, what say you?"
"Nothing, sir - there are no words that can make a difference. Wait until the morning after the funerals and then demand work from him - we need his steam locomotive; we want a much greater turning lathe, one that can work larger and longer pieces, say; we must have a ship's engine to turn a bigger paddle wheel... There must be a dozen essential projects at a stand for lack of his genius, or so he must be persuaded. Work him every hour of every day so that he has barely time to eat and sleep and none at all to grieve and accuse himself. Six months, a year, how long I do not know, and he may return to a semblance of normality. Or he may not. He must employ a secretary to keep his office in order, a function that Mary performed for him; a young man of some understanding of the engineering process, so that he is not permanently reminded of her absence. Beyond that, I do not know."
"He needs a man like my Murphy - yet there are few of those to be found."
Murphy appeared in London after a leisurely return from the States, much refreshed and looking for employment.
He had sailed from New Orleans to Richmond, where he had inspected the civilised South for a month and had found it uncongenial; there was a patina of elegance borne on the back of a brutal degeneracy of slavery - it reminded him too much of Dublin.
Business enterprise and commercial sense seemed lacking in the South and there was room for a sharp businessman to make profits, but Murphy had no desire to live in such a perverse society, one that shared all of London's vices and had avoided every one of its virtues. There was no education, slight culture, little music, but a lot of drink and whoring - it was said that the cream of humanity had risen to the top in London, but it seemed the scum had surfaced in Richmond.
From Richmond he took passage on a tobacco carrier to Cork - unpopular with passengers because of its smell - disembarking without fuss, invisible to the authorities as he quietly took his cab away from the waterfront and booked into a middling hotel, keeping to his policy of avoiding the expensive but visible hostelries which he could easily have afforded.
It was a busy port, flourishing indeed, exporting agricultural produce to England and with regular cargoes of gunpowder from the mills outside the town; there was also a steady run of emigrant ships, the surplus population shunted out to the States and to South Wales where the expanding coal mines sucked in bodies by the tens of thousands each year. The army was very visible - it might not have been wise to keep only a small garrison near the powder manufacturies. It was not a welcoming city - too many eyes watched the stranger, or so it seemed. He left after a very few days, took a passenger carrying coaster to Dublin, thinking he could risk at least looking around his old home town after fifteen years of absence.
Little had changed - an elegant and tiny city surrounded by a great mass of poverty, a dichotomy more marked than he had ever seen elsewhere. A hostile, unwelcoming town: a feeling of siege, of the barbarian at the gate, the last outpost of civilisation, with a paradoxical self-satisfaction that came from a knowledge of superiority. He had only talked of gun and bomb as a youth; as a man he was quite sure that he would go further, and be betrayed within the month - this was Ireland, the home of the informer, where the breed was hated because it was so common.
Two days to visit some of his old haunts, a self-indulgence in nostalgia; he stood across the road from his parents' house, saw his father, still straight-backed and sour-faced, made no attempt to accost him. He took ship for Bristol next morning, mail-coach to London, preferring the invisibility still; post-chaises were recorded.
There was not an Andrews in Town.
Enquiry at Mostyns told him of the tragedy of the youngest brother but he was not permitted to withdraw, was ushered upstairs to the office of Sir Iain himself.
"Good morning to you, Mr Murphy. We have not met but I know of you, sir. Please to be seated. Now, sir, I am quite certain you have good news for me, for us all - your face is not that of a man come to confess failure!"
Murphy outlined all that had occurred, mentioned the willing assistance of Mr Henry Star, suggested that he had in fact only narrowly forestalled Mr Quillerson.
Sir Iain made brief notes - both were to be remembered as being on the right side.
"You are quite sure he was the man we wanted, Mr Murphy?"
"Both by admission and by circumstance, Sir Iain. That was Godby Fletcher who came to an end, sir. I have his revolving barrel pistol in my baggage, sir."
"Then you have done very well by us, Mr Murphy, and by Lord Andrews, a man who has my greatest respect and to whom I owe some gratitude. You have my thanks, sir. More tangibly, the bank can put your skills to future work, if you are willing. There is a positive plethora of villains at large in this country, sir, in the absence of any effective police force such as now exists in most other civilised places, and,
indeed, in Ireland. Captain Hood is partly engaged in the pursuit of the more sophisticated - the fraudsters and embezzlers, some few of whom are to be discovered amongst our own people, I regret to say. There is a need as well for a resourceful gentleman to take charge of a number of guards and door keepers and suchlike individuals who will discourage the violent criminal; he would also head an office of investigators who would seek out and forcefully deter those who have actually robbed our bank, and possibly other financial institutions, if they will join with us."
"You mean in effect to create our own Bow Street, sir?"
"Just so, Mr Murphy, though with certain differences. The 'Runners' as they are known, operate only for a fee and take a percentage on goods recovered; they are commonly hand-in-glove with the thieves they seek out. They will conduct investigations, sometimes effectively, but they do not act in the public interest. They did so originally, or so I am told, back in the days of their founder, but they have degenerated rather sadly."
"Armed doorkeepers; guards to escort cash shipments; detectors of criminals; hard men to make arrests - four separate sorts of employees, Sir Iain, some based locally, some working out of London and travelling as necessary. It would not be cheap in the first instance, sir, but could be made very efficient."
"We have eight branches outside London, Mr Murphy. Two were violently robbed last year, one already this."
"Then there are high costs already, sir. I would make it my aim to reduce them. I would like to take the job, sir - it would be interesting, and worth doing as well."
"My son, Mr Jonathan will discuss details with you, Mr Murphy, and you will report to him. Be sure that he will be open-minded, very willing to listen to your opinion and advice."
Murphy left the bank very pleased; they had opened an account for him with a deposit of one thousand sterling in it, as their thanks for his services, and had said that they expected more to come from Lord Andrews and his sons. As well they had mentioned a salary that had made him whistle, suggesting also that there might be bonuses following successes in his work. He had been directed to the office of a lawyer, a Mr Michael, who would have suggestions to make that could well be of value to his efforts.
The Old Order (A Poor Man at the Gate Series Book 7) Page 22
