Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(80)
“From a business point of view, of course, it makes sense to maximize one’s profits. But from the point of view of society, it seems rather . . . limited, I’ll say. There is an opportunity for thousands of people to gain a toehold in New York. To buy a house or a shop that they can pass on to their descendants just as Papa built the Pastures for us. Instead a handful of men have snatched up nearly all the properties, and the poor people locked out of the deal are forced to rent rather than buy.”
“Locked out of the deal?” Angelica seemed both shocked and dubious. “Do you think there has been collusion on the part of Mr. Jay or the other investors?”
“Collusion is a serious word. I would say that it is simply a case of opportunity. The men who make the decisions and do the deals all come from a very slim section of society—perhaps one percent of the whole population. They live and work near each other, attend the same clubs, have each other over to parties.”
“Like the one you’re about to throw,” Angelica couldn’t resist interjecting.
“Oh, indeed. We are as blessed as they come. But by the time a poor man gets wind of an available property, it will have long since been snatched up.”
“Pardon me, Sister,” Angelica said in a curious tone. “But since you and Alex move in that same circle of the ‘one percent,’ as you call it, how is it that you have not managed to purchase a house if they are so cheap? Not that the house you rent isn’t quite lovely, but it seems that the time to strike is while the iron is hot.”
In answer, Eliza turned into another shop, where she purchased a crystal punch bowl and a set of embroidered, lace-edged napkins, again paying with a promissory note. Back outside, she shrugged. “A house that once cost a thousand pounds and now costs a hundred still costs a hundred pounds. Five pounds of credit here and there is easy to come by,” she said, waving a hand at the shop they had just come out of, “but for that kind of purchase one needs cash to hand, and we have almost none.”
“But surely Papa—”
“Alex refuses. Papa and Mama were generous with furniture and moving expenses, and of course they put us up, off and on, for over three years. Alex is determined to make it in New York on his own terms. My husband is a very proud man, and I have to support him in that decision. And I would rather be married to a man who cares more about what he does than what he has.”
“I suppose I agree with you,” Angelica said doubtfully, “but I must say I’m happy to have found a man who has moral convictions that are financially lucrative.”
Eliza laughed. “Between you and Peggy, I suppose I will always be known as the poor Schuyler sister. But I have no doubt that Alex will do well by us. Besides his law practice, his fingers are in virtually every pot. In finance, and trade relations, and alliances with European powers, and the military, and something that for want of a better word I would call general political theory.”
Angelica frowned, unsure if she wanted to open this topic. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“He thinks we need a document, a charter similar to the Articles of Confederation, but more extensive and more binding. Something that will finally make a genuinely united nation of us, rather than a motley collection of states.”
“Those sound like the words of man with political ambitions.”
“No doubt, just like Papa, and Peggy’s Stephen, and your John. I expect he will make senator at the very least.”
“At the least? What is higher than a senator?”
“Alex thinks the United States needs an executive vested in a single person.”
“A king?” Angelica almost gasped.
“No, more like a prime minister. But not of the British variety—a toady who has to report to his monarch. More like the head of a corporation, whose only responsibility is to his shareholders.”
“So much power granted to a single person can be dangerous.”
“Alex agrees, which is why he thinks it needs to be balanced by other branches of government. A strong congress and an equally strong judiciary. Each branch can keep the other from crossing the line to tyranny.”
“My word!” Angelica laughed. “Listen to you! The last time I saw you, you were helping to change Kitty’s diapers. Now you’re outlining plans for a whole new government!”
Eliza laughed modestly. “Oh, it is mostly dinner party gossip,” she said, though the truth is, she was proud of herself. This was her future, after all, not just Alex’s. “It’s all anyone ever talks about in society. I look forward to the day when all we have to worry about is catching the fashionable play or opera and securing the best dress fabric.”
“You liar,” Angelica teased. “You love it. But still . . . ?”
“Yes?” Eliza prompted when Angelica’s voice trailed off.
“All of this is man’s world, to which woman can only be spectator. Does it do to take too much interest in politics, rather than in, say, culture—music and painting and plays—over which we can have more sway.”
“I suppose they are men’s things, in the sense that men make the decisions that keep things this way. But as Helena said, women don’t take a hand in politics, not because they can’t, but because they are shut out of it. When circumstances allow them in, they can do great things. Look at Queen Elizabeth—it was she more than any of her male predecessors or successors who made England the great power it is. Or Catherine of Russia. They say she is the most powerful woman on the planet, ruler of the largest empire the world has ever known. Why, under her reign, Russia has replenished its treasury and won a war against Turkey. Why should we not have a similarly powerful woman here in America?”