Nordenholt
Probably with a view to avoiding the attention of the Press, the
meeting was held elsewhere than at No. 10 Downing Street. I found
myself in what looked like a Board meeting-room. A fire burned in the
grate, for it was a chilly day. Down the centre of the room stretched
a long table around which a number of men were sitting, some of whom
were familiar as great figures in the industrial world. At the head of
the table I recognised the Premier, flanked on either hand by a Cabinet
Minister. A chair was vacant half-way up the table, opposite the
fireplace; and I took it on a gesture from the Premier.
Almost at once, the Prime Minister rose to his feet. He looked worn and
agitated; but even under the evidences of the strain he endeavoured to
assume a cheerful and confident air. He was a man I had never trusted;
and I now had my first opportunity of examining him at close quarters.
In repose, his face fell into the heavy lines of the successful
barrister; but when he became animated, a mechanical smile flitted
across it which in some way displeased me more than the expression
which it veiled. He seemed to me a typical example of the _faux
bonhomme_. In politics he had gained a reputation for dilatory conduct
combined with a mastery in the art of managing a majority; and his
mind was saturated with the idea of Party advantage. Of real loyalty
I suspect he had very little; but when one of his Cabinet blundered
heavily, he would step into the limelight with a fine gesture and
assume all responsibility. In this way he kept his Government intact
and gained a reputation for fidelity without losing anything; for he
well knew that no one would call him to account for the responsibility
which he had assumed.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you will probably wonder why we have invited
you to meet us here to-day. We all know the unhappy state of affairs
into which the country has fallen. There is dissatisfaction abroad;
and the Government is being held responsible for conditions which were
none of its making. I will speak plainly to you, for it is no time for
reservations. Something must be done to allay public anxiety, which
is growing more intense as time goes on. I am not one of those who
take these passing scares seriously; but we cannot afford to ignore
the present feeling: and some measures are necessary to satisfy this
clamour. It is a time when all of us must come to the aid of the
Executive.
“The Cabinet is dispersed at the moment. Many of the members are
abroad and are unable to return at present, owing to a disorganisation
of transport. But pending their return and the decisions which we
shall then be forced to take, I thought it right to call together you
gentlemen, large employers of labour, and to enlist your aid in the
work we shall have to do. It is essential that the Government should
retain public confidence at the present time. I think we are agreed
upon that point. Nothing could be more fatal than a General Election
forced upon us under the reigning conditions.
“We have taken steps to call Parliament together immediately, in order
to lay before it certain measures which we believe will enable us to
tide over this crisis. But in the meantime we must try to pacify the
working classes, who are being agitated by the dismal forecasts of
the newspapers. I have no desire to inquire into the origin of the
jeremiads which are being printed daily in a certain group of papers;
but I cannot help noticing that they all tend towards a discrediting of
myself and my colleagues. There is a cry for action; whereas I think
all of you will agree that consideration is required, so that the
action, if it should become necessary, may be well-contrived.
“It is in these circumstances that we have called you gentlemen
together. We propose to lay before you the main points of our scheme;
and when you have heard them, we count upon you, as great employers
of labour, to lay the matter before your employés. We shall use the
newspapers also to disseminate our proposals; but personal efforts can
do more than any printed appeals. I trust that we shall not look in
vain for the cordial co-operation which is absolutely requisite at this
crisis.”
As this speech proceeded, I had become more and more uneasy. Through it
all ran the governing thought that something must be done, which was
true enough; but the thing which he proposed to do, it appeared to me,
was to persuade the country that all was well, whereas I felt that the
essential matter was to prepare against a practical calamity.
“We have given a great deal of thought to our proposals, though we have
not wasted time in the consideration of details. The broad outlines are
all that are required for our present purpose; and we have confined
our attention to them. My friend the Home Secretary”--he indicated the
colleague who sat on his left--“will be good enough to read to you the
heads of our decisions. I may say, however, that these decisions are
only of a temporary nature. We may find it necessary to modify some of
them in due course; and they must not be regarded as in any way final.
Possibly”--he let the mechanical smile play over the company--“possibly
some of those present may be able to suggest certain modifications at
this meeting. If these modifications are such that we can adopt them,
we shall be only too glad to do so.”
He sat down; and the Home Secretary rose in his turn. Saxenham had the
reputation of being dull but honest. He had no force of character, but
he had won his way into the Cabinet mainly because he had never been
known to stoop to a false action in the whole course of his career.
On this account he represented a mainstay of the Government, which
in other ways was not too scrupulous. His brain was one which worked
slowly; and his personal admiration for the Prime Minister was such
that he followed him blindly without seeing too clearly whither he was
being led. He cleared his throat and took up a sheet of paper which
contained the Government proposals.
“I think that it will be best if I take the various proposals seriatim
and elucidate each of them, as I come to it, by a short commentary.
“_First_, we shall issue a Government statement to the Press with the
object of reassuring the public and putting an end to this rising
clamour for action in haste. In this statement we shall call attention
to the fact that there is at present a twelve-weeks’ supply of food in
the country, which, with due care, would itself be sufficient to last
the population until the next harvest. We shall make it clear that the
Government have under earnest consideration the steps which it may be
necessary to take in the future; and we shall appeal to the public to
pay no heed to alarmist statements from interested quarters.
“_Second_, we shall advise the King to issue a Proclamation on the same
lines. We believe that this may have a greater effect in some quarters
than an official Government statement.
“_Third_, we shall make arrangements for taking over the food stores in
the country, though we hope that it will not be necessary to do so.
“_Fourth_, we shall make arrangements to purchase with the national
moneys the surplus food supplies of grain. We shall be able to pay
higher prices than private importers; and I have little doubt that we
shall thus be able to stock our granaries with food sufficient to carry
us through until well beyond the next harvest.
“_Fifth_, we shall prepare a system of rationing, as soon as we have
obtained our supplies and know definitely how much food can be allotted
per head to the population.
“_Sixth_, since a continuance of the present crisis will undoubtedly
lead to widespread distress and unemployment, we propose to take under
consideration a system of unemployment relief; so that there may be no
centres of disturbance generated among the population by idleness or
lack of money.
“_Seventh_, we shall invite the scientific experts on agriculture to
devote their attention to the problem of increasing the crops in the
next harvest, so that such a state of affairs as this may not again
arise.”
He paused, with an air of finality, though he did not resume his seat.
At the head of the table, the Prime Minister was apparently plunged in
thought. Suddenly I was struck by the employment to which the third
member of the Cabinet was putting his time. With the sheets of paper in
front of him he was constructing a series of toys. A box, a cock-boat,
an extraordinarily life-like frog lay before him on the table, and he
was busily engaged in the production of something which looked like a
bird. I learned afterwards that this was a trick of his, the outcome of
his peculiarly nervous temperament. Not wishing to be detected watching
him, I turned my eyes away; and as I swept my glance round the table, I
suddenly found myself in turn the object of scrutiny.
My first impression was of two steel-blue eyes fixed upon my own with
an almost disquieting intensity of gaze. I had the feeling of being
examined, not only physically but mentally, as though by some hypnotic
power my very thoughts were being brought to light. Usually, in a
casual interchange of glances, one or other of two is diverted almost
at once; but in this case I felt in some way unable to withdraw my eyes
from those before me; while my _vis-à-vis_ continued to examine me with
a steadfast attention which, strangely enough, suggested no rudeness.
He was a man of more than the average height, over six feet I found
later when he rose from his chair. His features suggested no particular
race, though there was an elusive resemblance to the Red Indian type
which I felt rather than saw; but this was perhaps intensified by
the jet-black hair and the clean-shaven face. All these are mere
details of little importance. What impressed me most about him was
an air of conscious power, which would have singled him out in any
gathering. Looking from him to the Prime Minister, it crossed my mind
that while the Premier counterfeited power in his appearance, this
unknown embodied it; and yet there was no parade, for he appeared to be
entirely devoid of self-consciousness. Before he removed his eyes from
mine I saw an inscrutable smile curve his lips. I say inscrutable, for
I could not read what it meant; but it resembled the expression of a
man who has just checked a calculation and found it to be accurate.
It has taken me some time to describe this incident; but actually it
can have occupied hardly more than a fraction of a minute; for, as I
took my eyes away from his, I heard the Home Secretary continue:
“These, gentlemen, are our proposals; and I think that they cover the
necessary ground. We wish especially to draw your attention to the
sixth one: for it is that which has chiefly moved us to lay these
matters before you ere we make them public. It concerns unemployment,
if you remember. We have brought you into our councils because all
of you are large employers of labour in different lines of industry;
and we would welcome any suggestions from you now with regard to the
possible modes of application of this scheme in practice. As Mr. Biles
has told you, it is essential at this moment to avoid discontent among
the proletariat. Europe is in a very disturbed condition, and a change
of Government at this juncture would have disastrous effects. I can say
no more upon that point; but I wish you to understand that we urgently
require your co-operation at this time.”
He sat down; and the Prime Minister rose again.
“I think you will see, gentlemen, from what the Home Secretary has
said, that the Government has the situation well in hand. The only
matter about which we are at all concerned is the liquor question. It
is clear that we can hardly sacrifice grain for the manufacture of
alcohol until we are sure that we have in stock a sufficiency of food
for the country’s needs. A shortage of liquor, however, may lead to
industrial unrest; and it is this possible unrest which we desire your
help in preventing. We wish if possible to get directly into touch with
the workers of the nation; and we have approached you first of all.
Later we intend to interview the Trades Union leaders with the same
object. But time presses; and I shall be glad to hear any criticisms of
our plans if you will be so good as to give your views.”
He sank back into his chair and again the smile faded almost at once.
For a moment there was a pause. Then the man opposite me rose to his
feet.
“Who is that?” I whispered to my neighbour.
“Nordenholt.”
Nordenholt! I looked at him with even more attention than before. For
two decades that name had rung through the world, and yet, meeting him
now face to face, I had not recognised him. Nor was this astonishing;
for no portrait of him had ever come to my notice. The daily photo
papers, the illustrated weeklies, even _Punch_ itself, had never
printed so much as a sketch of him. He had leaped into fame simply
as a name to which no physical complement had been attached. By some
mysterious influence behind the scenes, he had avoided the usual Press
illustrator with a success which left him unrecognisable to the man in
the street.
So this--I looked at him again--so this was Nordenholt, the Platinum
King, the multi-millionaire, wrecker of two Governments. No wonder that
I had felt him to be out of the common. I am no hero-worshipper; yet
Nordenholt had always exercised an attraction upon my mind, even though
he was only a name. In many respects he seemed to be the kind of man I
should have liked to be, if I had his character and gifts.
When he rose, I found that his voice matched his appearance; it was
deep, grave and harmonious, although he spoke without any rhetorical
turn. Had he chosen to force himself to the front in politics, that
instrument would have served him to sway masses of men by its mere
charm. I thought that I detected a faint sub-tinge of irony in it as he
began. He wasted no time upon preliminaries but went straight to the
point.
“Are we to understand that this paper in the hands of the Home
Secretary contains a full statement of the measures which the
Cabinet--or such members of it as are available--have decided upon up
to the present?”
The Prime Minister nodded assent. I seemed to detect a certain
uneasiness in his pose since Nordenholt had risen.
“May I see the paper?... Thank you.”
He read it over slowly and then, still retaining it in his hand,
continued:
“Perhaps I have not fathomed your purpose in drawing it up; but if I
am correct in my interpretation, it seems to me an excellent scheme. I
doubt if anything better could be devised.”
The nervous frown left the Premier’s face and was replaced by
a satisfied smile; the Home Secretary, after a pause of mental
calculation, also seemed to be relieved; while the Colonial Secretary
put down his paper model and looked up at Nordenholt with an expression
of mild astonishment. It was evident that they had hardly expected this
approval. The hint of irony in the speaker’s voice grew more pronounced:
“This scheme of yours, if I am not mistaken, is a piece of
window-dressing, pure and simple. You felt that you had to make some
show of energy; and to pacify the public you bring forward these
proposals. The first two of them achieve nothing practical; and the
remaining five concern steps which you propose to take at some future
time, but which you have not yet considered fully. Am I correct?”
The Colonial Secretary broke in angrily in reply:
“I object to the word window-dressing. These proposals give in outline
the steps which we shall take in due course. They represent the
principles which we shall use as our guides. You surely did not expect
us to work out the details for this meeting?”
Nordenholt’s voice remained unchanged.
“No, I did not expect _you_ to have worked out the details of this
scheme. I will confine myself to principles if you wish it. I see that
in the fourth clause you anticipate the purchase of foreign grain,
though at an enhanced price. May I ask where you propose to secure it?
It is common knowledge that it cannot be obtained within the Empire, so
presumably you have some other granary in your minds. Possibly you have
already taken steps.”
The face of the Colonial Secretary lit up with a flash of malice.
“You are quite correct in both conjectures. Australia and Canada have
suffered so severely from the Blight that we can expect nothing from
them, and I am afraid that Russia is in the same condition. But we have
actually issued instructions to agents in America to purchase all the
wheat which they can obtain, and advices have arrived showing that we
control already a very large supply.”
“Excellent forethought. I fear, however, that it has been wasted
through no fault of yours. At ten o’clock this morning, the Government
of the United States prohibited the export of food-stuffs of any
description. You will not get your supplies.”
“But that is contrary to their Constitution! How can they do that?” The
Prime Minister was evidently startled. “And how do you come to know of
it while we have had no advice?”
“A censorship was established over the American cables and wireless
just before this decision was made public. They do not wish it to
be known here until they have had time to make their arrangements.
My information came through my private wireless, which was seized
immediately after transmitting it.”
“But ... but ...” stammered the Home Secretary, “this complicates our
arrangements in a most unforeseen manner. It is a most serious piece of
news. Biles, we never took that into account.”
“Sufficient unto the day, Saxenham. This Government has been in
difficult places before; but we always succeeded in turning the corner
successfully. Don’t let us yield to panic now. If we think over the
matter for a while, I do not doubt that we shall see daylight through
it in the end.”
Nordenholt listened to this interchange of views in scornful silence.
“One of the details which have still to be thought out, I suppose,
Biles,” he continued. “Don’t let it delay us at present. There is
another point upon which I wish some information.”
The meeting was a curious study by this time. Almost without seeming
to notice it, Nordenholt had driven the three Cabinet Ministers into a
corner; and he now seemed to dominate them as though they were clerks
who had been detected in scamping their work. Personality was telling
in the contest, for contest it had now become.
“This news which I have given you implies that the twelve-weeks’ supply
of food in the country is all that we have at our command anywhere.
What do you propose to do?”
“We shall have to take stock and begin the issue of ration tickets as
soon as possible.”
“Twelve-weeks’ supply; how long will that last the country under your
arrangements?”
The Colonial Secretary made a rapid calculation on a sheet of paper.
“As we shall need to carry on till the next harvest, I suppose it means
that the daily ration will have to be reduced to less than a quarter of
the full amount--three-thirteenths, to be exact.”
“And you are satisfied with that calculation?”
The Colonial Secretary glanced over his figures.
“Yes, I see no reason to alter it. Naturally it will mean great
privation; and the working class will be difficult to keep in hand; but
I see no objection to carrying on till next year when the harvest will
be due. The potato crop will come in early and help us.”
Nordenholt looked at him for a moment and then laughed contemptuously.
Suddenly his almost pedantic phraseology dropped away.
“Simpson, you beat the band. I never heard anything like it.”
Then his manner changed abruptly.
“Do you mean to say,” he asked roughly, “that you haven’t realised
yet that there will be _no_ next harvest? Don’t you understand that
things have changed, once for all? The soil is done for. There will be
no crops again until every inch of it is revivified in some way. ‘The
potato crop will come in early and help us!’ I’ve consulted some men
who know; and they tell me that within a year it will be impossible to
raise more than a small fraction even of the worst crop we ever saw in
this country.”
The Premier was the only one of the three who stood fast under this
blow.
“That is certainly a serious matter, Nordenholt,” he said; “but there
is nothing to be gained from hard words. Let us think over the case,
and I feel sure that some way out of this apparent _impasse_ can be
found. Surely some of these scientific experts could suggest something
which might get us out of the difficulty. I don’t despair. Past
experience has always shown that with care one can avoid most awkward
embarrassments.”
“The ‘awkward embarrassment,’ as you call it, amounts to this. How are
you going to feed fifty millions of people for an indefinite time when
your supplies are only capable of feeding them normally for twelve
weeks? Put them on ‘three-thirteenth rations’ as Simpson suggests;
and when the next harvest comes in you will find you have a good deal
less than ‘three-thirteenth rations’ per head for them. What’s your
solution, Biles? You will have to produce it quick; for every hour
you sit thinking means a bigger inroad into the available supplies.
Remember, this is something new in your experience. You aren’t up
against a majority you can wheedle into taking your advice. This time
you are up against plain facts of Nature; and arguments are out of
court. Now I ask a plain question; and I’m going to get a straight
answer from you for once: What are your plans?”
The Premier pondered the matter in silence for a couple of minutes;
then, apparently, the instinct of the old Parliamentary hand came
uppermost in his mind. The habits of thought which have lasted through
a generation cannot be broken instantaneously. With a striving after
dignity, which was only half successful he said:
“Parliament is about to meet. I shall go there and lay this matter
before the Great Inquest of the nation and let them decide.”
“Three days wasted; and probably two days of talk at least before
anything is settled; then two days more before you can bring anything
into gear: one week’s supplies eaten up and nothing to show for it. Is
that your solution?”
“Yes.”
“You are determined on that? No wavering?”
“No.”
“Very good, Biles. I give you the fairest warning. On the day that you
meet the House of Commons, I shall place upon the paper a series of
questions which will expose the very root of the Mazanderan scandal,
and I shall supply full information on the subject to the Opposition
Press. I have had every document in my possession for the last year.
I can prove that you yourself were in it up to the neck; I have notes
of all the transactions with Rimanez and Co. And I know all about the
Party Funds also. If that once gets into print, Biles, you are done
for--thumbs down!”
He imitated the old death sign of the Roman arena. The Premier sat as
if frozen in his chair. His face had gone a dirty grey. Nordenholt
towered over him with contempt on his features. Suddenly the Colonial
Secretary sprang to his feet.
“This is blackmail, Nordenholt,” he cried furiously. “Do you think you
can do that sort of thing and not be touched? You may think you are
safe behind your millions; but if you carried out your threat there
isn’t a decent man who would speak to you again. You daren’t do it!”
“If you speak to me like that again, Simpson, I’ll take care that no
decent man speaks to you either,” Nordenholt said, calmly. “There’s
another set of notes besides those on Mazanderan. I have the whole
dossier of the house in Carshalton Terrace in my desk. I’ll publish
them too, unless you come to heel. It will be worse than Mazanderan,
Simpson. It will be prison.”
In his turn, the Colonial Secretary collapsed into his chair. Whatever
the threat had been, it had evidently brought him face to face with
ruin; and guilt was written across his face.
But Saxenham had paid no attention to this interruption. In his slow
way he was evidently turning over in his mind what Nordenholt had said
to the Prime Minister; and now he spoke almost in a tone of anguish:
“Johnnie, Johnnie,” he said. “Deny it! Deny it at once. You can’t sit
under that foul charge. Our hands were clean, weren’t they? You said
they were, in the House. There’s no truth in what Nordenholt says, is
there? Is there, Johnnie?”
But the Premier sat like a statue in his chair, staring in front of him
with unseeing eyes. The affairs of the Mazanderan Development Syndicate
had been a bad business; and if the connection between it and the
Government could be proved, after what had already passed, it was an
end of Biles and the total discredit of his Party. Nordenholt, still on
his feet, looked down at the silent figure without a gleam of pity in
his face. Somehow I understood that he was playing for a great stake,
though no flicker of interest crossed his countenance.
The strain was broken by Saxenham getting to his feet. I knew his
record, and I could guess what his feelings must have been. He stood
there, a pathetic little figure, with shaking hands and dim eyes, a
worshipper who had found his god only a broken image. He turned and
looked at us in a pitiful way and then faced round to the wrecker.
“Nordenholt,” he said, “he doesn’t deny it. Is it really true? Can you
give me your word?”
Nordenholt’s face became very gentle and all the hardness died out of
his voice.
“Yes, Saxenham, it is true. I give you my word of honour for its truth.
He can’t deny it.”
“Then I’ve backed a lie. I believed him. And now I’ve misled people.
I’ve gone on to platforms and denied the truth of it; pledged my word
that it was a malicious falsehood. Oh! I can’t face it, Nordenholt. I
can’t face it. This finishes me with public service. I--I----”
He covered his face with his hands and I could see the tears trickle
between his fingers. He had paid his price for being honest.
But the Premier was of sterner stuff. He looked up at Nordenholt at
last with a gleam of hatred which he suppressed almost as it came:
“Well, Nordenholt, what’s your price?”
“So you’ve seen reason, Biles? Not like poor Saxenham, eh?” There
was an under-current of bitterness in the tone, but it was almost
imperceptible. “Well, it’s not hard. You take your orders from me now.
You cover me with your full responsibility. You understand? You always
were good at assuming responsibility. Have it now.”
“Do I understand you to mean that you would like to be a Dictator?”
“No, you haven’t got it quite correctly. I _mean_ to be Dictator.”
The Prime Minister had relapsed into his stony attitude. There was
no trace of feeling on his face; but I could understand the mental
commotion which must lie behind that blank countenance. Under cover
of fine phrases, he had always sought the lowest form of Party
advantage; his political nostrum had become part and parcel of his
individuality, and he had never looked higher than the intricacies of
the Parliamentary game. Now, suddenly, he had been brought face to
face with reality; and it had broken him. To do him justice, I believe
that he might have faced personal discredit with indifference. He had
done it before and escaped with his political life. But Nordenholt had
struck him on an even more vital spot. If the Mazanderan affair came
into the daylight, his Party would be ruined; and he would have been
responsible. I give him the credit of supposing that it was upon the
larger and not upon the personal issue that he surrendered.
Nordenholt, having gained his object, refrained from going further. He
turned away from the upper end of the table and addressed the rest of
us.
“Gentlemen, you see the state of affairs. We cannot wait for the slow
machinery of politics to revolve through its time-honoured cycles
before beginning to act. Something must be done at once. Every moment
is now of importance. I wish to lay before you what appears to me the
only method whereby we can save something out of the wreck.
“I have been thinking out the problem with the greatest care; and I
believe that even now it is not too late, if you will give me your
support. This meeting was called at my suggestion; and I supplied a
list of your names because all of you will be needed if my scheme is to
be carried out. But before I divulge it, I must ask from each of you
an absolutely unconditional promise of secrecy. Will you give that,
Ross? And you, Arbuthnot?...”
He went from individual to individual round the table; and to my
astonishment, used my own name with the others. How he knew me, I could
not understand.
When he had secured a promise from all present, he continued:
“In the first place, I had better tell you what I have done.
Immediately the Blight began to ravage the American wheat-fields, I
bought up all the grain which was available from last year’s crop and
got it shipped as soon as possible. It is on the high seas now; so
we have evaded the new prohibition of exports. I need not give you
figures; but it amounts to a considerable quantity. This, of course, I
carried through at my own expense.
“I have also had printed a series of ration tickets and explanatory
leaflets sufficient to last the whole country for three weeks. This
also I did at my private charges.
“Further, I have placed orders with the printers and bill-posters for
the placarding of certain notices. Some of these, I expect, are already
posted up on the hoardings.
“I mention these matters merely in order to show you that I have not
been idle and that I am fully convinced of the necessity for speed.”
He paused for a few seconds to let this sink in.
“Now we come to the main problem. Saxenham has told you the state
of affairs; and I have supplemented it sufficiently to allow of
your forming a judgment on the case. We have a population of fifty
millions in the country. We have a food supply which will last, with
my additions to it, for perhaps fourteen weeks. Beyond that we have
nothing in hand. The next supply cannot make its appearance for at
least a year. I have omitted the yield of the present crop, as I wish
to be on the safe side; and I find that most of the grain is useless.
When the new crop comes in, it will be, under present conditions,
negligible in quantity owing to the soil-destruction which the
_Bacillus diazotans_ has wrought. That, I think, is a fair statement of
the case as it stands.
“What results can we look for? If we ration the nation, even if we
allow only a quarter of the normal supplies per day, our whole stock
will be exhausted within the year. There will be a large percentage
of deaths owing to underfeeding; but at the end of the year I think
we might look forward to having a debilitated population of some
thirty millions to feed. Will the new crop give us food for them? I
have consulted men who know the subject and they tell me that it is
an impossibility. We could not raise food enough, under the present
conditions, to support even a reasonable percentage of that population.”
He paused again, as though to let this sink in also.
“Gentlemen, this nation stands at the edge of its grave. That is the
simple truth.”
We had all seen the trend of his reasoning; but this cold statement
sent a shiver through the meeting. When he spoke again, it was in an
even graver tone.
“You must admit, gentlemen, that we cannot hope to keep alive even
half of the population until crops become plentiful once more. There
is only a single choice before us. Either we distribute the available
food uniformly throughout the country or we take upon ourselves the
responsibility of an unequal allotment. If we choose the first course,
all of us will die without reprieve. It is not a matter of sentiment;
it is the plain logic of figures. No safety lies in that course. What
about the second?
“Let us assume that we choose the alternative. We select from the
fifty millions of our population those whom we regard as most fitted
to survive. We lay aside from our stores sufficient to support this
fraction; and we distribute among the remainder of the people the
residuum of our food. If they can survive on that scale of rations,
well and good. If not, we cannot turn aside the course of Nature.”
The Prime Minister looked up. Evidently, behind his impassive mask, he
had been following the reasoning.
“If I understand you aright,” he said, “you are proposing to murder a
large proportion of the population by slow starvation?”
“No. What I am trying to do is to save some millions of them from a
certain death. It just depends upon which way you look at it, Biles.
But have it your own way if it pleases you.
“Now, gentlemen, the calculation is a simple one. We have enough food
to last a population of fifty millions for fourteen weeks. From that
we deduct five weeks’ supplies for the whole population; which leaves
us with four hundred and fifty million weekly rations. We select five
million people whom we decide must survive; and these four hundred and
fifty million rations will keep them fed for ninety weeks--say a year
and nine months. It will really be longer than that; for I anticipate
rather heavy ravages of disease on account of the monotony of the diet
and the lack of fresh vegetables. That is in the nature of things; and
we cannot evade it.
“That then, is the only alternative. It is, as the Prime Minister has
said, a death sentence on by far the greater part of the people in
these islands; but I see no way out of the difficulties in which we
are involved. It is not we who have passed that sentence. Nature has
done it; and all that we can achieve is the rescue of a certain number
of the victims. With your help, I propose to undertake that work of
rescue.”
I doubt if those sitting round the table had more than the vaguest
glimpse of what all this meant. When a death-roll reaches high figures,
the mind refuses to grasp its implications. Very few people have any
concrete idea of what the words “one million” stand for. We only
understood that there was impending a human catastrophe on a scale
which dwarfed all preceding tragedies. Beyond that, I know that I, for
one, could not force my mind.
“We are thus left with five million survivors,” Nordenholt continued.
“But this does not reach the crux of the matter. The nitrogen of the
soil has vanished; and it must be replaced if the earth is ever again
to bring forth fruits. That task devolves upon mankind, for Nature
works too slowly for our purposes. In order to feed these five million
mouths--or what is left of them when the food supply runs out--we have
to raise crops next year; and to raise these crops we must supply the
soil with the necessary nitrogenous material.
“I have consulted men who know”--this seemed to be his only phrase when
he referred to his authorities--“and they tell me that it can be done
if we bend our whole energies to the task. All the methods of using
the nitrogen of the air have been worked out in detail long ago: the
Birkeland-Eyde process, Serpek’s method, the Schönherr and the Haber-Le
Rossignol processes, as well as nitrolim manufacture and so forth. We
have only to set up enough machinery and work hard--very hard--and we
shall be able to produce by chemical processes the material which we
require. That is what the five million will have to do. There will be
no idlers among them. At first it will be work in the dark, for we
cannot calculate how much material we require until the agricultural
experts have made their experiments upon the soil. But I understand
that it is quite within the bounds of possibility that we shall be
successful.
“I come now to another point. These five million survivors cannot be
scattered up and down the country. They must be brought into a definite
area, for two reasons. In the first place, we must have them under our
control so that we can make food-distribution simple; and, in the
second place, we must be able to protect them from attack. Remember,
outside this area there will be millions dying of starvation, and these
millions will be desperate. We can take no risks.”
He took a roll from behind his chair and unfolded upon the table a
large map of the British Isles marked with patches of colour.
“As to the choice of a segregation area, we are limited by various
factors. We shall need coal for the basis of our work; therefore it
would suit us best to place our colony near one of the coal-fields. We
shall need iron for our new machinery; and it would be best to choose
some centre in which foundries are already numerous. We shall need to
house our five million survivors and we cannot spend time in building
new cities for them. And, finally, we need a huge water-supply for
that population. On this map, I have had these various factors marked
in colour. In some places, as you see, three of the desiderata are
co-existent; but there is only one region in which we find all four
conditions satisfied--in the Clyde Valley. There you have coal and
iron; there are already in existence enormous numbers of foundries and
machine-shops; the city of Glasgow alone is capable of accommodating
over a million human beings; and the water-supply is ample. This, I
think, is sufficient to direct our choice to that spot.
“There are two further reasons why I am in favour of the Clyde Valley.
It is a defensible position, for one thing. North of it you have only
a very limited population--some three millions or even less. On the
south, it is far removed from the main centres of population in the
Midlands and London. This will be an advantage later on. Again, second
point, we have to look forward to cultivation next year. Bordering the
Clyde Valley, within easy reach, lie the tracts which, before the
Blight, used to be the most fertile land in the country. The fields are
ready for us to sow, once we have replaced the vanished nitrogen. I
think there is no better place which we could select.
“Now, gentlemen, I have put my scheme before you. I have not given you
more than the outlines of it. I know that it seems visionary at first;
but you must either take it or leave it. We cannot wait for Parliament
or for anybody else. The thing must be done now. Will you help?”
A murmur of assent passed round the table. Even the Prime Minister
joined in the common approval; and I saw Nordenholt thank him with a
glance.
“Very good, gentlemen. I have most of the preliminaries worked out
in sufficient detail to let us get ahead. To-morrow we meet again
here at nine in the morning, and by that time I hope to have further
information for each of you. In the meantime, will you be good
enough to think over the points at which this scheme will touch
your own special branches of industry? We have an immense amount of
improvisation before us; and we must be ready for things as they come.
Thank you.”
He seated himself; and for the first time I realised what he had
done. By sheer force of personality and a clear mind, he had carried
us along with him and secured our assent to a scheme which, wild-cat
though it might appear, seemed to be the only possible way out of the
crisis. He had constituted himself a kind of Dictator, though without
any of the trappings of the office; and no one had dared to oppose
him. The cold brutality with which he had treated the politicians was
apparently justified; for I now saw whither their procrastination would
have led us. But I must confess that I was dazed by the rapidity with
which his moves had been made. Possibly in my account I have failed to
reproduce the exact series of transitions by which he passed from stage
to stage. I was too intent at the time to take clear mental notes of
what occurred; but I believe that I have at least drawn a picture which
comes near to the reality.
The meeting was at its end. Nordenholt went across to speak to the
Prime Minister; while the others began to leave the room in groups of
two and three. I moved towards the door, when Nordenholt looked up and
caught my eye.
“Just wait a minute, Flint, please.”
He continued his earnest talk with the Premier for a few minutes, then
handed over an envelope containing a bulky mass of papers. At last he
came to me and we went out together.
“You might come round to my place for a short time, Flint,” he said.
“My car is waiting for us. I want you to be one of my right-hand men in
this business and there are some things I wish to explain to you now.
It may not seem altogether relevant to you; but I think it is necessary
if we are to work together well.”