London - Edward Rutherfurd [532]
He understood, too, that the population of London was rapidly growing, that thanks to the empire, all classes, except the very lowest, were becoming more affluent, that the Bull Brewery was producing more beer every year and that if this went on the dear old brewery with its cheerful brick buildings and its thick, malty smell was going to make him a very rich man indeed.
He also understood that his wife and young Meredith were paying too much attention to each other. It did not really matter: he knew perfectly well that Mary Anne would not be seeing Meredith again. He would make sure she didn’t. But it annoyed him all the same. He felt like putting this tiresome boy in his place.
His opportunity soon came. The Pennys, still talking enthusiastically about the Great Exhibition, had just remarked on the splendid French and German sections, when Silversleeves joined in.
“The French, being more southern and Celtic,” he pointed out, “are wonderfully artistic; but the machinery in the German section – that was the really impressive thing. But then of course,” he added, “the Germans are like us, aren’t they? Good, practical people. The Romans of the modern age.” He glanced down the table. “It’s practical people who build empires, Mr Meredith. You’d do better to study the Germans than the Hindu gods.”
It was a view that had become rather popular in England recently. After all, people said, the Anglo-Saxons were a Germanic race; Protestantism had started in Germany, too. The royal family was German; the queen’s husband who had inspired the Great Exhibition was very German. Industrious, self-reliant, northern Germanic folk, not too artistic but highly practical: this was how the Victorians had decided to see themselves. The fact that racially they were just as much Celtic, Danish, Flemish, French and much more besides had somehow been forgotten.
Edward saw his chance. “Yet there is a difference between our empire and that of the Romans,” he genially pointed out. “And Mr Meredith might like to consider this also. Our empire is not one of conquest. There’s hardly any compulsion at all. The Romans needed armies. We don’t. What we offer all these backward countries is simply the benefit of free trade. Free trade brings them prosperity and civilization. One day, I dare say, when free trade has made the whole world peaceful and civilized, there won’t be any need for armies at all.” He smiled blandly at Meredith.
“But Edward,” Mary Anne objected, “we have a huge army in India.”
“No we don’t,” he replied.
“Actually, Mrs Bull,” Meredith politely intervened, “your husband is quite right. The vast majority of troops are Indian regiments, raised locally and paid for by the Indians. Almost a police force, you might say,” he added with a wry smile.
“I am glad you agree,” Bull took him up. “And please notice, Mary Anne, another phrase Mr Meredith has just used: ‘Paid for by Indians.’ The British army, on the other hand, is paid for by the British taxpayer, out of his hard-earned income. If Mr Meredith becomes a serving officer, his purpose in life will be to protect our trade. And since” – he was going to put the younger man firmly in his place now – “I shall have to pay for Mr Meredith and his men, I think the cost of them should be as low as possible. Unless,” he added drily, “Mr Meredith feels I don’t pay enough in taxes.”
It was, of course, insulting. Mary Anne blushed with embarrassment. Yet, as Bull knew very well, he was on firm ground. Few people would have disagreed. True, there were a few with a broader vision of England’s role. At a City dinner recently Edward had found himself next to Disraeli, a tiresome politician, he thought, with his head full of foolish dreams of imperial grandeur. But Disraeli was an exception. Most men in Parliament were far more inclined to go along with solid Whigs like Mr Gladstone, who espoused free trade, sound money, minimum government expenditure and low taxes. Even a rich fellow like Bull was only paying income tax