The Exile Breed

by Charles Egan

  ‘Excellent,’ Winrow said ‘Perhaps you better give me a quick run-through of the financial position of Edwardes & Ryan.’

  Danny laid a number of sheets of paper on the desk.

  ‘This is a quick summary of our position,’ he said. ‘As you can see, we continue to be very profitable. We would have been more so, except for costs associated with the floods.’

  ‘Ah yes, the floods.’

  ‘We had to suspend the worksite on the North Staffordshire line, and on two of the other sites. Only for a few days in each case. But we also had to carry out a lot of additional work to minimise the floods. All of this cost money.’

  ‘Which you have passed on to your customers no doubt?’

  ‘Roy Anderson was most understanding, so we had no problem there. He allowed for cost over-runs on wages. Tom Brassey though? I wouldn’t even ask. Not that I’m a fool. You must understand this, Mr. Winrow, we have a strong reputation for delivering on budget and on time. We are being very closely watched on our Brassey contract. Our competitors on the North Staffordshire feel that we could not possibly carry it out on those terms, but I intend to prove them wrong. It’s not just a matter of protecting our good name. Once we have completed the North Staffordshire contract, we will have a reputation far above what anyone would think possible, both with Brassey and with the other big contractors. That is absolutely vital to the future of Edwardes & Ryan. So, while the profit we are showing is excellent, it would be even better if not for the exceptional circumstances of the floods.’

  For some time further they continued through the accounts. Then, there was a knock on the door. ‘The Credit Committee is ready for you now, Mr. Winrow.’

  Winrow left the room. Danny followed. The Credit Committee, he was thinking. Now we’ll see what’s really on their mind.

  When they entered, Winrow joined eight men at one side of the table and Danny sat facing them. The man in the centre, the Chairman, Danny guessed, got down to business straight away.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Mr. Ryan. We’re now reviewing our loans outstanding, and that is the reason for your presence.’

  ‘I can understand that, given present circumstances,’ Danny replied.

  Might as well get that out of the way, he thought. Present circumstances. I know, as well as he knows, that the Manchester & Salford is exposed, no matter what Winrow thinks.

  ‘Indeed,’ the Chairman said, uneasily. ‘We need to understand that our top borrowers can continue to repay their loans, as and when agreed.’

  ‘Of course,’ Danny said.

  ‘So, first we have to understand your accounts. I believe Mr. Winrow has been checking that.’

  ‘Yes,’ Winrow said. ‘In spite of the floods, the accounts are satisfactory.’

  ‘Excellent,’ the Chairman said. ‘We’ve given you an additional facility. Do you feel that will be satisfactory for your commitments?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Danny said. ‘The first reason is the contract we hold with Brasseys on the North Staffordshire Line.’

  ‘An excellent endorsement,’ one of the other men said. ‘You’re probably aware that the Manchester & Salford are acting for the North Staffordshire on its next share issue.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Danny said, ‘but I know Mr. Brassey would only deal with the best.’

  ‘That’s true,’ the Chairman said. ‘So of this latest facility, how much have you borrowed to date?’

  Winrow responded. ‘Just a little over two thousand pounds,’ he said. ‘And from what I see, Mr. Ryan is on time with his contracts. And with his general borrowing facility, though there seems to be no likelihood of that being overdrawn.’

  ‘Why is that?’ the Chairman asked.

  ‘Cash control,’ Danny answered. ‘An important part of our overall cash policy is to extend the payment terms we demand from our suppliers. That is only a minor factor in our cash position though.’

  ‘I see,’ the Chairman said. ‘So tell me, Mr. Ryan. What is your credit control policy with your clients?’

  Danny hesitated. He thought of Irene. What would she say? He might not agree with her on everything, but he was beginning to believe that Edwardes & Ryan was in a stronger position than he had thought.

  ‘Our policy is not so much through enforced credit control. More through the quality of our clients. Brassey already makes staged payments to us as the contract proceeds, and we have every confidence in Brassey. Then there’s Roy Anderson. Roy is a good friend and a good client, and we would certainly extend him credit.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Chairman said, ‘we know Roy very well. Most reliable.’

  ‘He is,’ Danny said.

  ‘But that could leave you very vulnerable, having so few customers.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Danny said. ‘In any case, the ultimate customers are the railway companies that our direct customers work for, and they are more diversified. Also our intention is to gain more large contracts, with large contractors such as Mackenzie or Peto. Mackenzie has already shown interest in working with Edwardes & Ryan, as Mr. Winrow knows. That is the reason why Brassey’s North Staffordshire contract is so vital. We must prove to the entire market that we can handle major contracts, and deliver on budget and on time.’

  THE WEEK OF TERROR. Murtybeg travelled to Liverpool to meet with the Workhouse administration. He was more optimistic now about the labour situation. The financial downturn meant that unemployment was increasing. More and more desperate men were entering the Workhouse.

  As he reached it, he saw it was just as he had anticipated. There was a crowd outside the gate, larger than before. A number of police were keeping order. When he made his business known, he was admitted at once though.

  ‘Mr. Ryan, you’re most welcome,’ the clerk said, extending his hand. ‘You know we met your brother?’

  ‘I know. I’d heard.’

  ‘As you can see, there’s increasing pressure on the resources of the Workhouse, and anything you can do to reduce that would be most welcome.’

  ‘I’d be delighted, of course,’ Murtybeg said, ‘particularly if you have workers from the west coast of Mayo.’

  ‘Ah yes, Mayo,’ the clerk said. ‘I think I might have just the man to help you with that.’

  He went to the door and opened it.

  ‘Could you tell Mr. Solan to join us now?’

  Murtybeg was surprised. Solan! A common enough name in Mayo.

  A young man entered. ‘This is Dominic Solan,’ the clerk said.’ This is Mr. Ryan, Dominic. I’ve told you about him.’

  ‘Yes indeed,’ Solan said. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Mr. Ryan.’

  Murtybeg recognised the accent at once. ‘You’re Mayo, I’d say,’ he said.

  ‘Right first time. Castlebar to be quite exact.’

  ‘Dominic is highly educated,’ the clerk said. ‘He only joined us a few months ago, but I can assure you, he knows his business. Perhaps you could explain your specific requirements.’

  ‘Of course,’ Murtybeg said. ‘We’re looking for Mayo men, but only from the far west. In particular, we don’t want to hire from East Mayo, where our own people are, and that applies even to Castlebar. We presently have arrangements in train with two of the Workhouses – Westport and Ballinrobe – though they have little enough just now. Hence our interest in the Mayo men you might have in the Workhouse already, or even those trying to get in.’

  ‘But a lot of them are very weak.’

  ‘That’s why we feed them well,’ Murtybeg said. ‘Toughens them up in no time.’

  Solan had sat down, and was scribbling fast. ‘So how many would you need?’

  ‘A hundred straight away.’

  ‘I’m not sure that we’d have that many West Mayo men, but we might. What about the rest of the West Coast? I’m thinking of Donegal in particular.’

  Murtybeg was taken aback by the question.

  ‘In principle, Donegal could work well. The only problem there is that the Irish, as they speak it, is ve
ry different to Mayo. We might have difficulties in speaking.’

  Solan nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I know what you mean.’

  The clerk took over again.

  ‘It’ll take some hours to organise all this,’ he said. ‘Could you come back tomorrow morning, say about ten o’clock, and we will have it all ready then. A hundred if we can, we’ll see what we can do. Could be two hundred with the women and children.’

  Murtybeg looked up in surprise.

  ‘Women and children! We don’t have them on the Works.’

  ‘Not as workers,’ the clerk said. ‘They won’t leave their men though. It’d be cruel to separate them.’

  ‘But…that’s impossible.’

  ‘Not so hard as you might think. We work them hard enough here. And you don’t have to pay them a man’s wage.’

  Murtybeg shook his head.

  ‘If you say so.’

  When Murtybeg left the Workhouse, he walked down towards the Adelphi Hotel. He saw a small crowd outside. A newsboy was shouting –

  ‘Read all about it. Collapse of the Royal Bank.’

  Disbelieving, Murtybeg joined the crowd and pushed his way through. He bought a copy of the Liverpool Albion, and pushed back out again. Under the guttering light of a gas lamp, he read the headline – Stoppage of the Royal Bank of Liverpool.

  He made his way to the hotel, and booked a room.

  ‘Yes,’ the clerk said to him, spotting his newspaper. ‘All Liverpool is talking about it.’

  ‘Stopped, they say.’ Murtybeg said.

  ‘Stopped, sir? Bankrupt is the real word.’

  Murtybeg went to his bedroom and read the article. Suddenly, he stood up. He went down to the front of the hotel, and hired a cab.

  ‘Royal Bank of Liverpool. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘All Liverpool knows where it is now,’ the cabbie said. ‘Can’t tell you how many fares I’ve had there tonight.’

  When they reached Dale Street, he got off and paid the cabbie. Outside the Royal Bank of Liverpool, hundreds of people were milling. Hundreds more were sleeping against the walls, or simply lying down in blankets. It reminded him of a Workhouse, but this was no Workhouse. All along the wall and the windows, notices were pasted up –

  ‘All Payments Suspended’.

  Attached to the inside of one of the windows of the bank was a notice.

  ‘The Directors of the Royal Bank of Liverpool regret to have to announce that, owing to the extraordinary pressure of the times, they conceive it to be in the interest of all concerned to suspend the operations of the Bank until the result of the proceedings of a deputation now in London has been ascertained, which will be immediately announced. Monday, 18 October 1847.’

  A man in a top hat was reading it closely.

  ‘Can you imagine it?’ he said to Murtybeg. ‘The Royal Bank. The safest in England, that’s what they told us. If the Royal goes, everything will go.’

  ‘I know,’ Murtybeg said. He turned away. The cab was gone, and there were no others. He walked all the way back to the Adelphi.

  Yes, he thought. Everything can go. What will be next?

  Next morning, he walked to the Workhouse. Solan met him.

  ‘We’ve fulfilled what you requested,’ he told Murtybeg.

  Murtybeg led the ragged group to the station and loaded them on open wagons. That afternoon, they arrived at the North Staffordshire Railway.

  ‘And amn’t I delighted to see you,’ Roughneen exclaimed. ‘We could do with these fellows.’

  ‘Should I bring them to their shacks?’

  ‘We’ve not enough yet, so we’ll have to squeeze them in tight. We’re building more as fast as we can, but, damn it, I never expected, women and children too.’

  ‘The Workhouse insisted we take them.’

  ‘I know. Just tell Danny we’ll need a lot more money for timber. I’m using offcuts, but one way or another we’ll need well-built shacks before another Brassey inspection.’

  It was late when Murtybeg arrived in Stockport. He joined Danny and Irene for dinner.

  ‘You heard about the Royal Bank?’ he asked.

  ‘Heard about it,’ Danny said, morosely. ‘That’s yesterday’s news. It’s worse now.’

  ‘Worse?’

  ‘There’s another one followed it. The Liverpool Banking Company have closed their doors.’

  ‘What! Two banks in two days.’

  ‘Yes,’ Danny said. ‘Two banks. Two Liverpool banks. And now I’m wondering about the Manchester banks. What if it spreads?’

  Irene laughed. ‘I’ve been telling him not to worry about it. Just think about it. There was a run on every one of the Liverpool banks and all the others pulled through. So don’t worry.’

  ‘But what about the Manchester & Salford?’ Murtybeg asked.

  ‘They’re far too strong,’ she replied.

  ‘They said the same about the Royal. It was supposed to be one of the best in the country, and look what happened.’

  ‘Fine,’ Irene said. ‘Suppose they collapse. Then they refuse to lend us anymore. What then? We just don’t repay what we owe them already. And there’s no way they can come after us, since they’ll be in breach of contract if they don’t lend us on our present facility. I’ve explained this to Danny already, but I’m not sure he believes it.’

  But if Danny was concerned about banks and stock markets, the newspapers shocked him more, as the crisis spread to the railways.

  He was reading the Manchester papers next morning.

  ‘My God, Irene,’ he exclaimed, ‘see this?’

  ‘I told you, you should stop reading papers. What is it this time?’

  ‘The Lancashire & Yorkshire. They’ve suspended their Works!’

  ‘They’ve what?’

  ‘Stopped construction. Closed down.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Damn it, Irene, Brassey is the leading contractor on the L & Y.’

  She grabbed the paper from him. For a while she said nothing. Then she sat down, calmer than before.

  ‘You know, Danny, this could be a great chance for us.’

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’

  ‘Think of it,’ she said. ‘How far is Burnley from here?’

  ‘Thirty miles.’

  ‘Thirty miles up that road, there’s hundreds – thousands – of men, desperate for work. Thrown off the Works, no warning, no nothing.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting?’

  ‘Send Murtybeg to Burnley. Right now.’

  ‘Why on earth would we do that? Can’t you see? If the L & Y have suspended their Works, who’s next? The North Staffordshire? Then we’d be firing men, not hiring.’

  ‘You’re worrying too much, as usual,’ she said. ‘Just because one line has suspended, that doesn’t mean anyone else is going to. Just keep calm, will you?’

  Danny slept uneasily that night. Perhaps Irene was right. A single suspension meant nothing.

  The next day brought more shocks. More railway lines around Manchester suspended construction.

  ‘Including the London & North Western,’ Danny said. ‘The biggest of them all. But even worse, the Birkenhead & Cheshire. That’s another Brassey contract. They’re all far too close for comfort. At this rate there’ll soon be no work within a hundred miles of Manchester at all.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ Irene asked. ‘Give up?’

  ‘We can’t do that.’

  ‘Look at it this way, so. We’ve two main clients, Brassey and Andersons. The North Staffordshire isn’t suspended. And Anderson hasn’t suspended any of his sites’

  ‘Not yet,’ Danny said.

  ‘And maybe not ever.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting?’

  ‘We just keep working,’ Irene said. ‘With Anderson, we work as normal. Roy is good with payments, and there’s nothing to suggest he’ll be any different now. Brassey is the key though. We should finish the Brassey contract as soon as we possibly can. He�
�s good on staged payments, Brassey is, so we’ve nothing to worry about that way. The more we get done, the more cash we get in. It also gives us the chance of finishing well ahead of schedule. And anyhow, if there are closures, we just fire all the men at once. That way we lose nothing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Danny said, thoughtfully. ‘We just hope we don’t get suspended. But in the meantime…’

  ‘In the meantime,’ Irene interrupted, ‘we take on as many workers as we possibly can. All around us, there’s thousands of them, desperate to work for any wage.’

  ‘I doubt they’d work for a shilling a day though.’

  ‘Who knows?’

  Danny sent Murtybeg to Burnley.

  A few days later, he arrived back.

  ‘How did it go?’ Danny asked.

  ‘Pretty well. I got eighty seven. Took them all down to McManus. He seems happy enough now.’

  ‘Fine so, Murteen,’ Danny said. ‘But from now on, I want you to bring men down to Roughneen, down on the North Staffordshire. It’s the Brassey contract that’s important now. We’ve got to get that finished as soon as we can.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can get much more in Burnley.’

  Irene interrupted. ‘And it’s not necessarily Burnley we should be looking at. There’s railways suspending operations all around us. It’s a matter of going where the navvies are. They’re desperate enough right now.’

  Murtybeg agreed. ‘But there’s just one thing I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘What on earth is causing all this?’

  ‘A shortage of cash, pure and simple,’ Danny said. ‘And from all I can see, there’s two main reasons. The first, as it happens, is the Famine back home. I told Irene that. The Government has lent huge sums to the landlords and to Dublin Castle. God knows if they’ll get any of it back, but they sure as hell don’t have it now. But the Railway Mania only added to that. Thirty million pounds in new investment. Where the devil did they think it was going to come from? Now, when you look back at it, this was bound to happen.’

  Danny was stunned at the speed at which the railway market had turned. Still, as Irene said, Edwardes & Ryan were making money. But now they were hiring Irish navvies from all over the country, and at higher wages too. Once again though, it did not worry Irene. The new navvies were not starving, and they were used to hard work on the railways. They were still paying more overall, but Edwardes & Ryan’s profits were holding up very well.