Iain Pears - Stone's Fall

The meeting with Rothschild and Netscher began after lunch. I very nearly disgraced myself by being late, but I arrived at the Rothschild mansion in the eighth arrondissement with a few minutes to spare. There were four people there: the committee for the defence, or so I came to call them in my mind. All people who wished to resolve this, if only they could do so without bringing national opprobrium down on their heads. All were fatalistic, and had a low opinion of their many colleagues, of politicians and of the people of France in general. They were fools, was the general opinion, who understood nothing of money, who had no conception of how delicate and refined were the financial structures which so efficiently delivered the comforts and necessities on which all people increasingly depended. Had it been left to politicians, said Netscher, then the bulk of mankind would still be scraping a living in the fields, dressed in rags and prone to starvation and disease. They needed to be saved from themselves.

So far, so much agreement. It was clear that all present – who represented some of the most powerful financial institutions in France – were prepared to put their weight behind the request that France assist the Bank of England. But it was equally clear that none of them would do so unless that request was going to be accepted.

'For myself,' said Alphonse de Rothschild, 'I am prepared to commit half a million of gold to the general defence of the banking system; I have already cabled my cousin to inform him that I will transfer the money to his house today.'

Netscher smiled. 'That safeguards the Rothschild family, my dear Alphonse,' he observed. 'It does little else.'

'You cannot expect any more of me as yet,' Rothschild retorted. 'Not until there is an overall agreement. Remember, if there is a run on the banks in England, it could well trigger a panic here as well. We cannot afford to dismantle our own defences.'

'Bank of France or nothing. Is that right?' I commented.

They all nodded.

'I do not know the Governor,' I said.

'M. Magnin,' Netscher said. 'A good man. Started as an ironmaster, curiously enough. Still a bit of the peasant about him, but solid. He is a man who fully appreciates the value of sound money. And he understands how weakness in the credit markets can affect industry. That is the trouble, in fact.'

'Why?'

'Because I would have expected him to have responded already. All his instincts, I feel sure, would be to bolster London. It is neighbourly and it is good business. He has not done so. Which suggests he is acting under instruction. He is not a free man, you know. The Bank of France is not a private company like the Bank of England. Its sole shareholder is the Government, and ultimately M. Magnin must do as he is told.'

'So we are talking about government policy here, are we?'

Netscher sighed. 'I do not think so. Believe me, Mr Cort, I am – we all are, I am sure – trying to find out. But so far I have discovered nothing.'

Here Rothschild smiled in a superior fashion. 'Fortunately, the magic of the house of Rothschild still has some life in it,' he said quietly. 'In fact, I do believe I can say what is taking place. This policy was sold to Rouvier about six months ago. The Foreign Ministry is standing by, as it considers it foolish not to take advantage of any weakness which Britain might display. The trouble at Barings has been brewing for several months, and the Foreign Ministry has been quietly preparing the ground. It all developed out of the blunder by Bismarck three years ago when he denied Russia access to the Berlin credit markets. Paris took up the role, and has advanced large sums of money to the Russian Government. This, naturally, has created a bond of friendship, not to say a common interest. I would even venture to surmise that some sort of military understanding might come to pass in due course. Obviously, in that case, a weakening of Great Britain would be mutually beneficial.'

'But Russia needs investment desperately. Unless it gets credit, its army is back in the seventeenth century. How can destroying the credit markets help?'

'A question so good I am afraid I cannot answer it. I have approached the Russian Embassy, but they refused to speak to me.' The pained surprise was obvious. No one refused to talk to a Rothschild.

'However, they have agreed to talk to the British Government. Which in itself indicates how very much is riding on this matter. And how well prepared they are.'

'But that would be Sir Edward Merson.'

'I did point this out, and they have no desire to talk to Sir Edward at all, as he would not understand what was being said. No. You have to produce someone more senior and authoritative than that. I would suggest Goschen. He can make a deal and he has the authority to persuade the Prime Minister to accept.'

'You expect the Chancellor of the Exchequer to grovel in public?'

'I would expect him to arrive so silently and quietly that no one is ever aware of his presence in Paris.'

'To talk to . . . ?'

'The head of the Bank of France, obviously. By merest coincidence, no doubt, the deputy head of the Bank of Moscow is in Paris, visiting his relations. And Rouvier, of course. I and M. Netscher would be happy to attend as well, I am sure.'

'Where?'

'Somewhere they will not be noticed.'

I had not forgotten the matter of Elizabeth and her diaries, but the rest of Tuesday and much of Wednesday morning was used up preparing. Stone's telegraph operator was back in business, so I was at least able to communicate faster, and if my own entreaties had not been enough, the state of the markets proved more persuasive. Hour by hour, the news had been getting worse. More and more people suspected some hideous crisis was in the making. Credit was drying up; suspicion was already beginning to focus on Barings, which was publicly giving assurances that nothing was amiss, while privately panicking and trying to raise as much money as possible. Members of the family pledged their houses, horses, works of art. Debts and favours were called in, assets were offered at knock-down prices, but all that did was stoke the speculation that something was going very badly wrong. Bit by bit, panic began to spread; interest rates rose, volumes in the markets began to oscillate wildly, prices followed. Time was running out. Goschen decided to come to Paris. He had no alternative.

The meeting would be in the last place anyone would ever suspect that an event of such importance would happen. When I asked, Elizabeth agreed without hesitation, and immediately went into high activity, laying in food, drink and everything else that might be needed. It was only a little different from a meeting of her salon; the topics of discussion would merely be more serious. And after many hours of labour I checked my watch. My appointment with Drennan was coming close. It was time to go.

It was a long shot, admittedly, but it was worth a try. Certainly I did not wish to risk confronting Drennan directly; I knew him too well. He had beaten me last time we met, and I had no confidence that he would not do so again. It would have been good to know exactly what he was up to, but I had concluded this was a luxury I could do without. The last thing Britain needed was an espionage scandal inflaming French public opinion against all things English just at the moment when France was being asked for assistance. Indeed, I was more and more sure the two were connected.

I arrived in the rue Daru about half an hour early, approaching from the Boulevard de Courcelles and then down the rue Pierre-le-Grand, and went into an apartment block on the corner. Facing me over the road was the Alexandre Nevskii Cathedral, Eastern and entirely out of place in that strict and regimented quarter of apartment buildings, the different-sized domes and gold mosaics looking as though they had been dropped from the sky by accident. It had been built a few decades previously for the Russian community in Paris, as a sign of their presence and to give a focus for their social activities, and had proved a singular success, even though the local residents, apparently, did not entirely approve.