At the end of May, Alex found himself on an evening train to London. He ought to be sleeping on the long journey, but he could do nothing of the sort.
Tomorrow he’d meet with Lord Ashley at ten in the morning—promptness expected, the letter had specified. Agitated, he brushed his hand over the leather exterior of his journal. Here he’d diagrammed his ideas and prayed they would not be found lacking. When he finally arrived at the inn near the center of Town, he tried once again to sleep but endured a restless night.
The next morning Alex headed toward the finer streets of London a full hour early. Feats of engineering and manpower, structural giants, and the city’s organization surrounded him, causing him to marvel. How many great minds had worked together to build the infrastructure of such a place? Couldn’t this brilliance be harnessed in the mines? They needed so much improvement, not just more cheap labor.
He made it to the Home Office with ideas of grandeur and possibility buoying his morale. Finally he arrived at the location Lord Ashley had given. At ten minutes to the hour Alex couldn’t wait any longer and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” a deep voice bellowed. When Alex entered, the man inside the office stood, appraised him from head to toe, and bowed his head. “I told you not to be late, and here you are, early.”
“Yes, my lord.” Alex clutched tight the notebook in his hands to mask how much they shook.
“Very good. Do be seated.” Lord Ashley gestured to a chair across from his desk and then took his place. He wore his hair long at the sides of his cheeks, and his mouth pulled into a slight smile. “Your letter surprised me,” he started.
Alex wondered if he meant it in a good or bad way.
“The way you expressed your concerns about the conditions in your mines was eloquent and articulate.” He pulled a paper out from his desk and tapped it with his hand. “I know very few miners with the ability to craft such a letter.” He scanned the paper. “You don’t exactly look like a miner either.” He raised an eyebrow in question and leaned back in his chair.
When the man said no more, Alex cleared his throat. “I suppose you could say I’ve retired from the worst of it.” He knew His Lordship to be of the religious sort, so he added, “Or, more likely, I’ve been spared the worst of it by the hand of God.”
“Is that right?” Lord Ashley questioned. “Tell me of your past.”
Alex’s throat tightened. He never relished recounting the details of his life to anyone, let alone a man as high ranking as the one before him. “My lord, I do not wish to offend your sensibilities, and it is such a base existence, you don’t—”
“Nonsense.” His voice sizzled low and serious. “Before the bill was passed in ’42, I went into a mine shaft myself.”
Alex’s eyes grew wide, his esteem for the man increasing.
Lord Ashley leaned forward. “I cannot talk further of solutions until I know where you have come from.”
That sentiment and the unease Alex experienced then reminded him of his conversation with Charlotte Roylance a month ago, when she’d pressed him about the mines, but he pushed her from his thoughts. This was different. This man already knew of the horrors and wished to know more information for a purpose. A cause, Alex hoped, they could join in together.
Alex sighed. “My letter was well-written because I didn’t begin mining until I’d had a year of Harrow under my belt.”
“You left Harrow to become a miner?” If the man’s eyes had bored into Alex before, now they looked to discredit him entirely.
Alex shook his head with a sad chuckle. “My family fell to ruin. My father and mother were taken to debtors’ prison, and rather than taking me with them, they told me to flee. From then on they thought it best that they have nothing to do with me. We were in Northumberland, and I knew a man could eat if he became a miner.”
“And what has happened between then and now?”
The question caused Alex to shudder, but he continued. “I worked in Newcastle Mine for four years. Then one day a firedamp explosion nearly killed me.” Lord Ashley nodded grimly, and Alex knew he didn’t need to explain more. “From that moment I did whatever it took to raise myself from my station. Knowing how to read and write places one above one’s peers in some respects. I worked hard until I became a manager of acquisitions under Mr. Cartwright, the owner of Newcastle Mine.”
Lord Ashley steepled his fingers. “I am sorry you were in an accident, but that experience has made you truly informed on the dangers that persist in the industry.”
“Precisely,” Alex answered.
“I’ve spent years of my life trying to improve conditions for the poor, but I hope your counsel will shed more light on the miners’ plight.”
Had Lord Ashley just asked Alex for his opinion? He’d seemed interested when he’d invited Alex to come and speak with him, but this was more than a trivial meeting; the man seemed eager for deeper discussion. Alex knew Lord Ashley was the sort of parliamentarian who did his research and had suggested successful bills in the past. He blinked a few times and tried to gather his wits.
“The deaths, my lord.” He opened his leather notebook and cleared his throat. “There are far too many, and they don’t get reported as they ought. And then, of course, there is the ventilation in the mines. The air is the miners’ greatest need and worst enemy.”
“Go on,” Lord Ashley said, leaning forward in his seat.
For the next half hour Alex explained problems, shared drawings, and proposed solutions to create a safer environment for the deep shafts of the mines. “There is some ventilation already, but frankly, it isn’t enough.”
“And what of the inspections to follow the law?” Lord Ashley queried. “Doesn’t this help?”
“How can Inspector Tremenheere frequent all the mines, Your Lordship? I have never seen him in all my time in Newcastle. And, from what I’ve heard, he doesn’t have experience down in the mines, which I think is essential for regulation, innovation, and enforcement.” Alex held his breath, hoping the statement wasn’t too bold.
“You think there ought to be more inspectors?”
“Most definitely. But that’s only part of the problem.” Alex’s eyes shot from side to side. Mr. Cartwright was all the way back in Newcastle, but Alex could feel the man’s beady gaze on his neck. “New techniques are often expensive; it takes time and effort to implement them. I think most mine owners won’t want to slow down in any way. They don’t . . .” He sighed. “The price of a life is very cheap in a mine.”
“What do you suggest?”
Alex inhaled and drew up his shoulders. “There must be some way to help the laborers. Perhaps best practices and methods can be taught, discussed, and then implemented by the foremen. And, of course, regulations ought to be set and enforced by law and inspectors, with fines for the owners who do not comply.”
“Hmm.” Lord Ashley rubbed the hair on the side of his cheek. “Interesting ideas.” He stood with a curt nod. “I’ll give it some thought. Thank you for your time.”
Alex closed his notebook and rose to his feet. “I must thank you for even entertaining me in the first place.” He hoped the abrupt ending of the meeting did not mean Lord Ashley was displeased.
“Of course. I should do it more often.” Lord Ashley gave a chagrined smile. “I’ll contact you again, Mr. Jenkins. Good day.” He held out a hand.
Alex took it and swallowed. “Good day,” he croaked back as he bowed and walked to the door, allowing himself to hope. So His Lordship did have an interest. Who knew what would come of this meeting, but at least he had not been found wanting.
He glanced at his pocket watch. He planned on visiting Christopher but thought he ought to wait until the later afternoon to ensure he would be home. He still had a few hours left for the one indulgence he’d been saving for: a trip to the renowned London Zoo.