Page 25 of The Uprising
Smithson looked at George expectantly.
‘Don’t worry; I shan’t detain you long,’ said George, detecting the butler’s unease at being called away from his duties. George lowered his voice and continued, ‘It’s rather a delicate matter, regarding the queen. I’m concerned for her safety and I’m trying to get a sense of what’s happening on the streets, and I thought, what better place to seek answers than here, below stairs.’
Smithson’s bushy eyebrows twitched slightly, but his face remained devoid of emotion which was the result of twenty years in service with the royal family. If he was disturbed, no one was going to guess it from his carefully guarded features. ‘I’m certain no one here has anything but love and respect for the queen, my lord.’
‘Yes, of course. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply anyone would wish her harm within these walls—I expressed myself clumsily. I’m keen to know what your opinion is of the Chartists and your understanding of their intentions.’
A fleeting sign of curiosity crossed Smithson’s face, but his expression was instantly restored to that of a blank canvas, and then he said, ‘I spend so much of my time within the palace I’m not the best person to ask. And as far as the servants go, I expect them to guard their loose tongues, so I fear we will be of little use to you in this regard.’
‘I quite understand, Smithson. Is there someone who may be more in touch with what’s happening beyond the palace? I wouldn’t impose on you if it weren’t an urgent matter concerning the queen’s security and that of the country.’
Smithson pondered for a few seconds, rotating his thumb back and forth across his lips. ‘I’ll call one of the junior footmen; if anyone knows what’s happening on the streets of London, it’ll be him. Please bear with me, my lord. I think he may be above stairs this morning.’
George watched a sluggish five minutes tick by on themahogany grandfather clockand hoped that Smithson would soon return with his street-wise apprentice. He was anxious to accomplish his mission and to embark on his leisurely afternoon with Cara; but this was important business. He hoped he would leave significantly more enlightened than he had arrived.
A familiar-looking boy hovered in the doorway, and Smithson gave him a gentle push in the small of his back to propel him into the office. ‘Go in lad. This is Lord Cavendish, and he has a few questions for you about the Chartists. You’re not in any trouble; just tell him what you know.’ Smithson discreetly left the room and closed the door.
George saw the young footman didn’t recognise him, or if he did, he was a terrific actor. ‘Good afternoon. Thank you for agreeing to help me with my enquiries. I’m sorry to have dragged you away from your duties.’
The boy looked startled and stood to attention before George, cutting a fine upright figure in his royal uniform.
‘What’s your name, boy?’
‘They call me Swifty.’
George nodded, doing his best to conceal his delight at unexpectedly meeting his faithful servant from Tudorville.
‘What do you know of the Chartists?’ George asked.
‘The People’s Charter—the Suffrage Movement?’
‘Yes. I hear more unrest is brewing. I want to know if you have heard the Chartists talk about the queen and the royal family.’
‘I know little, my lord. I think most wish only to present their petition to Parliament and are hoping a bill will pass to give working class men the vote.’
George was impressed by Swifty’s eloquence and demeanour. He was older here in Victoriana than in Tudorville, and by what he’d seen so far, he was a real credit to the royal household.
Present-day Cara would be thrilled when he told her he’d met Swifty in the service of Queen Victoria. She had a soft spot for the boy; they both loved him dearly.
‘Do you by any chance know where the Chartists gather for their meetings?’
Swifty paused for a second and was thoughtful. ‘I do, my lord. I know one of the leader’s sons who is active with the Chartists.’
‘Swifty, I can’t say why exactly, but I feel a certain affinity with you; as though I may count on you. Would you be willing to undertake a secret assignment for me? We would have the blessing of the queen.’
Swifty’s eyes widened. ‘I am always ready to serve Her Majesty and I am at your service, my lord.’
‘I am extremely grateful for your willingness. Come closer; one can’t be too careful when discussing such delicate matters.’ George leaned towards Swifty and whispered into his ear.
Swifty’s face was solemn as he listened. ‘Yes, my lord. I believe it is in my power to carry out such an assignment. I have Sunday afternoon off and could go then.’
‘Splendid.’ George dipped into his pocket and withdraw some coins and pressed them into Swifty’s palm. He whispered instructions and Swifty nodded.
‘Can you write?’ asked George.
‘Yes, my lord,’ he said, the pride evident in his musical voice.
‘Good. Send me a note as soon as you return. Don’t write your findings but let me know whether you have learned anything significant.’
