Despite this inconvenience—which was repeated several times over the course of their five-day journey—the gentlemen were not displeased. This was because they understood that such was essential to the proper maintenance of the highways, and because the road itself was pleasant enough and easily traversed. It is true that there were several places that could have been better filled, but the grade of the road was well regulated, and the pack on the gravel was generally sufficient to prevent the accumulation of significant amounts of mud.
This last point was made more evident as the day progressed, due to the fact that the heavens had begun to weep. Despite their best attention to such matters, it was soon obvious the colleagues lacked some of that experience which was requisite for their travels; for while the Fellows had consulted several tailors, and had, in fact, bespoke their garments for the journey, certain aspects of the wardrobes were less capable of addressing the elements than they had been led to believe. In short order, all five were sopping wet.
One example of this was Niles’ hat, for while it was appropriate to his station, it was not best suited for sustained travel. It was, in truth, unnecessarily tall, and the short upturned brim did little to keep rain from his face or neck while, at the same time, collecting rain without providing an adequate means of drainage. This resulted in a frequent need to manually dump the collected pool in order to prevent it from pouring out in an unpredictable fashion, often times to the effect of falling beneath the collar of his coat and dampening his under garments. Niles later declared that the only redeemable aspect of the hat in question was that the felt did, in fact, prevent saturation, and he noted that the top of his head, if nothing else, was dry.
Midday found the troupe resting the horses’ backs when they became witness to an affair which reminded them of the true novelty of this world of steam. Until this point, they had traveled through many hamlets and had passed many fields. All of which were apparently worked by nothing more than men and animals. On this day, however, they came upon a scene which was predicted by the loud rumbling and hissing of a steam engine, a point which was a matter of interest for most of the gentlemen, who had only known their application in industrial settings.
Despite early failures, the development of steam engines had hit a stride in recent years. While the adverse effects of road locomotives upon the integrity of highways had largely prevented their use in haulage, steam engines had been found to be particularly productive in both industrial and agricultural environments. They were not only easier to operate than the internal combustion engines which powered airships, but also produced a greater and more consistent mechanical output. Additionally, they were cheaper to operate and were not limited to a singular and specifically processed fuel source, but were capable of burning, with equal effect, a variety of readily available fuel, which included both coal and wood. By and large, they were the superior power source, except for one glaringly obvious fact. They were considerably heavier and required a continuous source of water to operate properly. This meant that they could not be effectively utilized in such cases as those which placed a greater priority upon weight limitations than upon cost and mechanical output.
What the gentlemen observed as they passed through the village was an almost inspiring event. It appeared that the entire town had come together to work in unison to harvest a single field of crop. The Fellows could see children of nearly every age working at various tasks. Men of the village walked the field reaping the harvest, while a few of the older children fed the collected grain into a machine that was powered by a portable steam engine. This machine then threshed and separated the grain, which was collected by the younger children and then stored or discarded appropriately. Truly, it was a marvel of the modern era.
Niles explained to his colleagues that this practice was increasingly common among independent farmers. As the Threshing Engine was far too valuable for any one citizen to purchase, the community would, instead, rent a machine from an outside provider, who would then haul it into place. Then, in order to expedite the harvest, the whole community would work cooperatively to clear one farmer’s field at a time. The entire harvesting process would be completed before moving the engine to a new field and beginning the process anew.
All in all, the affair—while reassuring in that it was an observation of communal cooperation—set upon the minds of at least one Fellow the impression of discord. This was for the simple fact that the journey thus far had been largely quiet and, weather aside, relatively pleasant. Some short time after passing the scene, Friedrich was led by his cohorts to comment on the matter, expressing a somewhat melancholy appreciation for a loss of simplicity which he was only then beginning to appreciate.
“You seem to be bothered, Friedrich. What is the matter?” asked Weyland, as he remounted his horse.
Friedrich shook his head, an action which struck the others oddly, as though he was dislodging the words from his mind. “I am struck by the oddity of it all. Can you feel it?”
The other gentlemen pulled their horses beside his and looked, as he did, upon the children working the machine.
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Niles
Friedrich considered not answering. He suspected that his thoughts might give his colleagues cause to mock him, no matter how well-intentioned their comments may have been. When he did speak it was for two reasons. The first was that his Fellows were not in the most jovial of moods as a result of their arduous time on the road. The second was that they were likely intrigued enough by the topic to give his words proper consideration. A little mockery was worth speaking his mind, for their words would hurt only his pride, while his might open the minds of his compatriots.
“When I was young,” Friedrich began, “my father took me on a tour of our holdings. We watched the workers till the soil as they have for centuries; father before sons, generation upon generation. That world is no more. These children are the first generation of a new world. These may be the same fields within which their blood has labored for centuries, but they will not know this labor as their fathers did; and their children will know even less. In the birth of this new era, there is the corpse of an old world. These children stand on the bones of the natural order that they might reach for something their fathers could not even imagine.”
“Good for them,” Niles muttered around the stem of his unlit pipe. “They are filthy enough as is. Perhaps now they will pull themselves from the mud and join the rest of us in civilization.”
Weyland drew his brows together. “You say this as though they have chosen their lot in life.”
Niles shrugged. “Every man has a choice. If a man wishes to have more, then he should engage in practices which will attain his desires. Laboring because your father labors is both weak and lazy.”
Friedrich winced at the unkind nature of the words and interrupted before Weyland could respond. “While Dominic makes a point worthy of its own discussion, the matter is less simple than all that. This world is changing. With this change comes the loss of the comfort and security of the known. Regardless of how menial one’s place in the social order may be, there is a certain value to knowing that one’s future is secure and that one’s years will not be wasted in the toils of some unknown conflict. For this new and present generation, the prospect of unemployment must be deeply and existentially concerning. As toilsome as the life of a tenant farmer may be, perhaps its singular virtue is that it is preferable to the torment of the poorhouse. It is no wonder then that so many once rose up to follow the lead of Captain Swing in opposition to this new technology and of the threats therein associated.”
Scowling, Niles took hold of his own earlobe and gave it a good shake. “Rufus, I believe that I have suffered some grievous damage to my ears. Friedrich could not have possibly said what it is that I heard. My dear boy, did you, this very moment, honestly validate the anarchy of the Swing Riots?”
“Only in that I understand the root cause,” said Friedrich. “Change bree
ds uncertainty, uncertainty fear, and fear breeds violence. It is a completely reasonable solution to a given set of criteria. And before you object, I mean reasonable in the sense of pure logic. While I may disagree with the actions of those involved, I cannot fairly fault their motivations. Besides, Niles, you seem not to recognize the fallacy of your statements. You condemn the actions of the rioters, but mere moments ago you stated that all men have a choice. Right or wrong, those men made their choice. They chose to take action and to seize control of their futures. Much as you would have them do, or at least condemn them for not doing.”
“What should I care for their choice? It is not my station, it is theirs.”
While Friedrich made ready to speak, it was Weyland who first responded. “More foolhardy words have never been spoken. The Natural Order is the way of the world, and Natural Law is the process by which this order is made manifest. Furthermore, Philosophy is at the very heart of determining that which is fallacy and that which is fact. You say this is their station, and in doing, so rely upon a claim of Natural Order, but there is nothing in the Laws of Nature which hold one to social constructs. Or would you condemn my family for reaching above their station, just as you condemn those who have not? You cannot have it both ways, dear boy. You cannot hold a man singularly responsible for accepting his lot while condemning those who would have it another way. What’s more, I argue that these people live now what we attempt to study, and that we ought to embrace what they do openly so that we may grow in our understanding.”
Niles’ face showed clear enough his thoughts on the matter, but he uncharacteristically held his thoughts to himself as a token of respect for those with whom he traveled.
The Fellowship rode then in silence as they digested the words of the two Philosophers.
Entry Four
The meal that day was withheld until after they had passed those who worked the fields and was shared in relative quiet. Some of the Philosophers’ words had left a barb on the minds of the others with their revealed truths. Wilson made an effort to lighten the mood, but such efforts were met with silence. Each man was wet, and some more so than others. Once the majority of their layers had become saturated, the Fellows had taken to walking their horses more often than before as a means of keeping their bodies warm against the increasing chill of the season. More than once, they silently longed for the idyllic first day of their travels.
This tactic was eventually cast aside as the day turned to evening. The journey to Chapel-en-le-Frith was among the longest jaunts of their short excursion, and they could ill afford the delay of a slow march. The Fellowship had planned poorly in the early part of the day, and they had rested longer than was best when they broke for lunch. This was independent of that fact that that they found themselves on a stretch of road that, due no doubt to its rural local, was maintained with less efficacy then they had come to expect.
As the sun began to ride low in the sky, it was decided their efforts at thermal generation were counterproductive and that anything short of a hard ride would find the Fellows cold and wet on a dark road. And so they spent the latter portion of the day following the practice of the cavalry march. To this end, they alternated between walking alongside their horse, riding at a walk, riding at a trot, and riding at a canter, before reversing the order to end once more on foot; each segment of this process was conducted for a uniform and measured period of time before progressing or regressing as appropriate. As it had been a long and wet day in the saddle, more than one of the Fellows were relieved when they finally turned from the ill-maintained cut and paid their toll to enter the Buxton Road, for in doing so, the gentlemen knew that Chapel-en-le-Frith was near, and with it, a warm bed and an even warmer fire.
Their arrival at the Coaching Inn was not poorly received, but it was abated somewhat on account of the hour. While Niles had spoken strongly in favor a hot bath, his colleagues had soon convinced him of a more prudent course of action. Not only would the drawing of a bath at this hour be an inconvenience for the staff, but the process would take some time, and standing beside the hearth would achieve many of the same results while allowing the gentleman the ability to rest in preparation for the following day’s travel. Eventually, each of the five retired to a dry bed in a shared room, trusting in the Inn staff to see that their clothes were dried and that the horses were properly boarded.
The third day was better executed, and the Fellows began to find a steady and reliable tempo as they approached Stockport. Despite this, it was a long journey made longer by the fact that the five gentlemen maintained a degree of saturation well into the fifth day after having rested on the fourth night in Birchwood.
Soon enough, however, the days had passed, and the rural landscape was slowly replaced by that of a denser, industrial, population. This encouraged the men, whose mounts seemed strengthened by the fact, and at the end of the fifth day, they had thrown themselves into the wind with no concern for attempting to remain dry—riding their steeds at a moderate pace across the newly macadamized roadway and into the city of Liverpool.
It was then that they sought lodging, with what they thought to be a sensible concern for quality. To this end, they found a decently clean establishment off of Walton Road, with a view overlooking Stanly Park. The gentlemen handed off the reins to the stable hands—to which they added a more than reasonable tip—and immediately sought hot baths and dry clothes. When asked, they assured the hostess that they cared less for hot food than they did for hot water, and that they would gladly partake of her cooking after they had been warmed and dried. She thus left the gentlemen to soak in the warmth of her water.
This was a point in which the gentleman were far from dishonest, for after having bathed and re-clothed, each of them sought the comfort of a full belly. It was that evening, after the majority of the Fellows had consumed several helpings of scouse and fresh meat pies, that the first order of business was addressed.
It began when the hostess came to their table to check on their needs. “There you go, my good sir.” She plunked down an Allsop’s India pale ale for Rufus, who was as obviously delighted as Wilson was revolted. While Rufus loved the hoppy beer, a brew copied from Hodgson and created for the long journeys to India, Wilson considered the flavor too common.
The hostess smiled. “I dare say that you remind me of me lads when they was growin’ up. Is there anythin’ else that you might be wanting fer?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” said Weyland, straightening in his seat. “A dear friend of mine informed me of an unusually curiosity, one which I was informed must be seen with one’s own eyes. Are you familiar with the Magi?”
Rufus took a deep draught of his beer while Weyland spoke.
She nodded. “Of course, sir! There not be a one in these parts that ain’t got the knowin’ of the Magi. Now, me, I make it a point of not being a meddler, mind you, but I wouldn’t be doing my Christian duty if I didn’t say something. Some of the folk ’round here have nothing good to say about that place, although truth be told half of ’em visit anyway. It is for each to decide for themselves. Me, I don’t judge, mind you, but you still should know. Some folk ’round here say that the place is a den of witches. Now I don’t know about all that, seeing as the Magi are men, but it sure don’t seem Christian to me to be seekin’ out answers from the darkness. All that ock-alt can’t be proper fer a heaven-bound soul.”
“So you know where we can find this establishment?” pressed Niles with a touch of whimsy.
“Aye, that I do, sir, that I do,” said she, before giving a detailed account of how one would travel to the home of the Magi. And it was upon this information that the Fellows based their intended actions for the morrow.
Entry Five
Having endured too many long days of travel by horse, and far too many discomforts on their physical beings despite this being such a short journey, the five gentlemen were in no particular hurry to rise in the morning. They, instead, did so at their leisure. As ea
ch man’s idea of leisure varied from that of the others, this meant that three of the men had completed their morning meal and that the fourth was well into the process when Niles emerged from the stairwell with an uncharacteristically chipper step.
“To what,” asked Wilson, “do we owe the pleasure of this invigorated gentleman? Is your physic working so well as that?”
“My dear friends and Fellows, we are today embarking upon our first true investigation. What just reason do we have not to be impassioned by this venture, this most auspicious of endeavors?” Niles spoke these words with a raised chin and the hint of a smile on his right cheek.
Wilson turned an inquisitive gaze upon Rufus, who, in turn, spared a measured glance over the top of the daily periodical. As he spoke, his words were both authoritative and emotionless. “As a physician, I have taken measures to address my patient’s demeanor. Diet, sleep patterns, and physical activity all possess the capacity to impact the effectiveness of any given medication. Given that these factors are prone to substantial fluctuation while one is traveling, I consider it an accomplishment that I have thus far been able to appropriately adapt my patient’s dosage such as to achieve optimal results. It is not an easy task, but such challenges are essential in order to develop certain necessary skills.”
“Your faith in such things is greater than my own,” said Wilson with a smile. “What little I have seen indicates unpredictable variations in effectiveness, especially when the regimen is not strictly adhered.”
“It is as you say,” said Rufus drily, “but I remind you that few patients can claim to engage the attention of their physicians on a daily basis. I am sure that I can control the body’s demands, despite the rather lax adherence to the physic’s required schedule. I shall, undoubtedly, publish a rather unique paper on the topic of varied doses of this particular physic.”
The Dandy Boys Mysteries (Vengeance Book 0) Page 7