Chapter 32: Chapter 32

A number of self-confident men were waiting in the agency when he arrived. It was

the largest collection of respectable whiskers and expansive waistcoats that Fox had

yet seen in their premises. The crowd that had been there on the day of the bank

crash had been larger but without the air of prosperity and respectable solvency

these men carried round with them. Such was their presence that, though fewer in

number, they filled the place just as effectively as the drab, frightened investors.

Pringle, the chief clerk, was figuratively squeezed and flattened against the wall by

this irruption of assertive men who had got into the habit of eating and drinking too

much and conversing in loud, confident voices. Gabriel had to push past to get to the

counter, but Pryor had stood up well. He seemed quite at home in this company, was

unsqueezed, and was talking as loudly and confidently as any of them.

They all knew James Pryor and he knew them. He introduced everyone by name to his

partner who shook hands with each one in turn.

They were a mixed group; some looked like successful professional men or fellow

agents. Others may have been more at home behind the counter of a shop or giving

orders to their employees on the factory floor. The air of solid worth and prosperity

they brought into the office reminded Fox of that self made man Mr. Kimpton, the

Yorkshire draper. He wondered what business they could have in the agency; perhaps

Mr Pryor had got them together to invest in a big property deal.

"Gabby, my boy," said Pryor, clapping him on the shoulder, "I don't like to impose but

this is more important than anything you might be doing in Gladman's shop. I want to

step out for half an hour or so with these gentlemen. We have important business to

discuss and I'd like you to come with us because I could use your common sense." He

turned to the clerk. "Keep an eye on the place while we're away. If anything comes up

and you want us, we'll be in the private bar at the Royal Mail. We shouldn't be too

long, just put off any business, or ask people to call back, unless it is desperately

important. If it is, Mr Fox will come and deal with it."

Gabriel did not mind getting away from Gladman for a while; the man was poor

company at present, and these strangers gave promise of being much more

interesting. The affairs of the office having been formally entrusted to Pringle, the

head clerk, James Pryor and his friends filed out of the front door and walked in a

consciously important group towards the hotel.

They were a notable sight and the policemen on duty at the corner were so impressed

by their collective appearance that they held up the traffic in Swanston Street for

them to cross in unhurried dignity.

James Pryor had been in the private bar many times before on business and spoke

familiarly with the handsome barmaid, whom he addressed as Rosie. He ordered

drinks all round and saw to it that every man had exactly what he ordered. Most

preferred beer to the fancy, foreign drinks Rosie had ranged on shelves behind the

bar. Their bottles glittered temptingly in the bright light of the gas lamps, doubly

reflected by the mirrors around the bar room, but even so they were more for show

than serious drinking.

"Now, gentlemen," said James Pryor, after some preliminary chat and every man had

a drink in front of him; "You asked to see me, and here I am; what can I do for you?"

An imposing, white haired, merchant, named Briggs, appeared to be spokesman. He

had taken off his hat and laid it with his ebony walking cane on the table in front of

him. He wore a light cutaway coat and plaid trousers, all of the very best material. He

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sported a watch chain on his waistcoat, indeed, they all did, but his seemed to be

heavier and of a more costly type. After a preliminary loud clearance of his

throat, which fixed even the most wandering attention, he addressed James Pryor.

"Mr. Pryor," he said, "you are well spoken of in Melbourne. The business community

of this town has a high regard for men of your calibre and we believe that, in time,

under its present management, the Melbourne and London Amicable Building Society,

which you, and your partner, so ably represent, will find a place in the colony equal to

Colonial Mutual Life, The British and Australian Trust and Loan Company and other

financial concerns so prominent and so valuable in our corner of the empire."

He had ordered claret, a common choice of his if one could judge by his red face and

wattled cheeks; he paused to take a drink while Mr Pryor bowed to acknowledge the

compliments in his speech.

The man continued. "Of course, we are all successful in the various activities to which

the Lord has been pleased to call us; we have done very well in the colony and we

look to the younger, up and coming men, such as yourself, to carry on the good work.

However, all may be undone by the present government and Premier, Berry, who

cannot be made to understand the importance of enterprise and the folly of fostering

false hopes in the workers for wages and conditions that would be ruinous for

industry and destructive of the economy of Victoria."

Amid a respectful silence he withdrew a spectacle case from the top pocket of his coat

and snapped it open to withdraw a pair of glittering pince-nez glasses which he

clipped to the bridge of his nose for the better examination of a newspaper lying on

the table.

"The Argus, one of our newspapers of very sound views in contradistinction to that

wretched, radical journal, The Age, has printed a leader which sums up the problems

of the colony most succinctly. Let me read it to you, at least in part." He found the

required place and read out the following article in a measured voice.

' Last year has gone the way of its predecessors and is now part of history. It was the

third, and we have good reason to hope, the last year of the most humiliating and

disastrous epoch which the colony has passed through since the date of its foundation.

Three years ago that ugliest of political phenomena, Berryism, took its rise and spread

like a black and pestilential mist over the whole country, poisoning its moral

atmosphere, blotting out its hopeful prospects, blighting its prosperity, and depressing

men's minds by its baleful influences. Berry was responsible for perpetrating the evil, the

outrageous act of Black Wednesday, and the Chief Secretary of a British Colony

proclaimed from the public platform that all the large estate owners in Victoria must be

dispossessed of their properties by a 'bloody' civil war, while his colleague the Attorney

General, from his place in Parliament warned the Queen's representative it might be

necessary to place him on a vessel in the bay and menaced the members of one house

with deportation across the Murray. However the power of these political Pistols and

Bobadils has begun to wane and it has been declining ever since. Berryism is dying in a

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prolonged agony occasioned by its own excesses ---- '

Mr. Briggs paused at this point and gazed at James Pryor over the top of his glasses. "I

think I have read enough to indicate the spirit of this very excellent article. I

recommend that you finish it at your leisure, but I think it gives point to what I was

saying before about the terrible danger to the colony of Victoria unless Berry is

stopped in his mad career."

The other men present, who had been listening intently, nodded to confirm the words

of the speaker at this point. Some said, "Hear, hear!" and several slapped the top of

the bar by way of applause.

"Thank God for the Legislative Council," said the orator. "At least it has stood firm

against this levelling, socialistic legislation that the government has tried to bring

down. As you know Berry is such an enemy of the Legislative Council, so rabid in his

desire to ruin us all with ill conceived legislation that he even went to London to

petition the government for a plebiscite to curtail the powers of the council. Of course,

they sent him away with a flea in his ear. The imperial government is not going to

listen to the populist ravings of an ignorant, colonial politician. He came home empty

handed, looking foolish. He is facing an election so this will be the best chance we

have had in years to get a good, solid government in power supported by men who

understand the nature of the economy and the value of free enterprise."

"Quite right, Mr. Briggs," exclaimed another man, overcome by hearing this recital of

political sins. "He promised a paradise for the working man, some paradise when our

industry is being driven north to New South Wales. Berry has given the working man

such an inflated idea of his worth that he turns up his nose at a reasonable wage, and

what's the consequence? Industries close down, unemployment and want. If that's a

paradise for the working man I don't want to visit hell."

Mr. Briggs was not accustomed to being interrupted while speaking and glared at this

rash individual until he subsided and a perfect silence followed into which Mr. Briggs

entered in a stately manner.

"I need hardly tell you," continued Mr. Briggs, "Of the dangers that we face in the

colony of Victoria. Berry himself has threatened us with broken heads and houses in

flames if we do not yield to the claims of the working class and persuade the

Legislative Council to shrink from its duty."

Fox had heard something along the same lines before except that Elder Muirhead and

his followers were expecting an Irish Catholic uprising. Perhaps the Irish would not

know which revolution to join.

Mr. Briggs was not of the same opinion; he took a far more serious view of the

problems confronting the colony. "As responsible citizens, and leaders of the

community," continued Mr Briggs, "It is our duty to overthrow the Berry government

at this coming election. To this end we require young men of substance, and strength

of character; young men who understand and respect the basis of our economy; stout

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hearted, with the capacity to stand up for the principles of justice, honour and fair

dealing that have made the British Empire respected and feared throughout the

entire world. Mr. Pryor, through observation and discussion we have formed a high

opinion of your character; we believe that you could make your mark in the political

sphere. I now ask, 'are you a man of destiny?' We believe that you are. Will you agree

for us to sponsor you as a candidate in the election that can, and must, put an end to

the blight of berryism in this state?"

He paused again, this time for the applause that was his due. His friends obliged while

he took another drink of claret.

The enthusiastic young man who had interrupted Mr Briggs now re-established

himself in the good graces of the assemblage by stepping up to the bar while people

were applauding and thumping the tables and ordered drinks all round.

The men were raising their glasses to James Pryor and settling back to hear his

answer when a thin, sandy haired person in a pepper and salt suit insisted on being

heard. He was wearing calf length brown riding boots; his trousers had been

reinforced on the seat and inside the legs with a different coloured material like

leather. His necktie was a grey, silk scarf which he had decorated in the middle with a

silver stickpin made in the shape of a horses' head surrounded by a horseshoe.

Someone whispered in Fox's ear that this was Jack Chillingford, proprietor of one of

the largest livery stables and livestock auctions in Melbourne.

He stood and addressed the group. His movements were so vehement that the pot of

beer he was holding spilled over from time to time and the beer slopped unnoticed to

the floor.

"I got a hundred and sixty three horses in me stables or out at me paddocks," he

declaimed. "Anybody wants a good horse to buy or hire I can fix 'em up, no worries. I

sold about a hundred head at the auction last week. All prime stock; I don't let no

scrubbers through the door. Anyone can take the word of Jack Chillingford; if I say a

horse is good, it's good. If I say it's a broken down chaff burner, don't buy it. The week

before I was up at Seymour and sold nearly five hundred head of prime cattle There's

no muckin' about; with Jack Chillingford what you see is what you get."

His friends were becoming impatient. They had not left their work in the middle of

the day to listen to him talking about his auction activities.

"Put a sock in it, Jack." Someone called out.

He held up his hand. "Prices in my line of business are down," he asserted. "They're

the worst I've seen 'em. I been runnin' auctions for ten years, round in Lonsdale

Street, since me old man passed on and these are some of the lowest prices I seen. It's

no good to me, it's no good to the vendors, and it's no good to Melbourne. I blame that

feller, Berry. Since he become Premier the economy's gone down hill. Reminds me of

the time I was a young buck and lost the brake comin' down the Punt Road hill. I got

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to the bottom in record time but it was hell's delight cutting the horses out of their

traces and fishing me gear out of the river. I got a kick in the ribs that slowed me

down considerable, I can tell you. And I got another one in the behind when I got

home; the old man was quite right I was mad to have gone that way and over the

punt. Anyhow, what I want to say is that Berry's lost the brake on the economy and if

we don't find it and slap it on pretty, bloody quick we're going to end up in a heap on

the bottom of the river."

"Well said, Jack!" This was the general opinion. Chillingford had colourfully expressed

what they all felt.

"I might add, Sir," said Mr Briggs, "We are all men of substantial means who have the

best interests of the colony at heart. If you accept our offer we are prepared to form a

committee to support you and like minded candidates with assistance both financial

and moral. We understand that a young man such as yourself, busy establishing and

managing these promising concerns of yours, cannot be expected to make the great

sacrifices necessary in pursuing a political career merely to serve the public weal

unless there are others willing to mark their support and approbation of your actions.

We are prepared to play our part, we will find an electorate and finance your

campaign; are you prepared to enter on to the larger stage of politics?"

He leaned back in his chair, satisfied with the force of his oration; a friendly hand

refilled his glass from a bottle of claret that now stood in front of him. They all waited

on the answer to be delivered by James Pryor.

That young man rose to his feet. "Mr Briggs, gentlemen," he declaimed. "I am very

much aware of the honour you have done to me today. It is humbling to know that

one has gained the confidence of one's fellow townsmen and especially that of

citizens of such distinction and excellent judgment as those I see before me."

His audience nodded and glanced at one another meaningfully. So far the speaker had

made an excellent impression.

He continued. "You say that Berry is bringing Victoria to ruin; I have to agree. Every

day it becomes more difficult to carry out one's legitimate business because of the

slowing of trade and commerce. Our aim should be jobs for all, homes for all, the end

of ruinous taxation, and the free play of market forces to rebuild the prosperity of our

state. I believe that the next election will be the most important ever to take place in

the history of Victoria and we must be vigilant and ready. We are in a bad way; the

Berry Blight is upon us and unless we do some vigorous weed eradication it will

choke the entire colony."

He paused and his delighted audience cheered, clapped and slapped the tables and

bar.

When the applause subsided he went on. "The offer you have put before me is most

tempting; nothing would give me greater pleasure than to serve my fellow Victorians

in the parliament of this colony but, as Mr Briggs has rightly pointed out, I do have

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business commitments. Mr Fox and I are directors of the Melbourne and London

Amicable Building Society as well as Pryor and Fox, Land Agents. You all know, who

better to know, the demands these make upon our time and energy. As Mr Briggs and

Mr Chillingford have told us we live in a difficult period of history.The colony is not

prospering as it should, due, as we all know, to the mismanagement of the present

government. I feel, that under the right circumstances, I could make a contribution to

the welfare of the community and I share your sentiments regarding the necessity of

building up the economy of Victoria by fair dealing between employer and employed,

and by open and fair trade between the colonies. He could not saying anything more

pleasing to his audience and they crowded around to pat him on the back and, above

all, to buy him a drink.

He halted their congratulations. "Your offer to support me as a candidate

representing the solid citizens of Melbourne is most kind, and I am deeply touched,

but at this moment I cannot answer you. My partner here, Mr Fox, whom you have all

met, must be consulted. If I go off to campaign for parliament you will understand the

burden that throws on to Mr Fox. In our office we have committed ourselves to

great schemes and great expense. If this is to fail because I have been attending to my

parliamentary business instead of Mr Fox's business and mine, not to mention that of

the shareholders and depositors, well, then I would deserve a very grave censure, not

only from Mr Fox and the others, but also from my supporters. Gentlemen, I cannot

answer you now. This is a serious matter that deserves serious consideration. I will

give you my answer tomorrow; in the meantime Mr Fox and I must return to the

office to catch up on the urgent business we have put aside to be in such agreeable

company."

Everyone was greatly disappointed. They had been hoping that he would accept their

offer on the spot and some called out for him not to leave. He shook his head smilingly

and after they had grasped every hand he and Mr Fox withdrew leaving the others to

talk matters over.

"I thought you were going to take them up on the offer," said Gabriel as they were

crossing the road. "It was very flattering of them to come to you like that."

"Ah, ha! They will need more than flattery before they get me into the net," remarked

Mr Pryor cheerfullly. "We walked out on them at the right time; they can drink and

talk it over without us. Before we say anything let's just see what this offer is that

they're talking about. It's all very well for them to go on about helping me but they

will have to say just how much they're prepared to put on the table before I'll show

my hand. Once I'm elected it will be alright. There will be plenty of time for business,

but during the campaign it will be different. That's going to take a lot of work. They

will have to stump up for an election agent, advertising, and maybe they can pay for a

couple of extra staff in the office to help you out while I'm away." He made a little skip

as they crossed the bridge over the gutter. "I fancy myself as James Pryor MP. It has a

good ring to it."