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“Yes, they would.”
“And you believe these other agencies deserve to have their funding cut?”
Lord Desmond put his hands out wide. “In case you haven’t heard, England is not at war with France anymore. We won!”
“I am well aware of that, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have any more enemies just waiting to pounce.”
“And who would that be?” Lord Desmond scoffed. “I hope you don’t intend to say those pesky Americans.” He chuckled.
“We have other threats.”
Lord Desmond lifted his brow. “And you would know that how, Lord Hawthorne?”
“One can hardly read the morning newspaper and not get the sense that England is not as beloved by other nations as we want to believe,” Baldwin stated. “We can’t leave England unprotected from domestic or foreign threats.”
“I am not proposing cutting our military funding,” Lord Desmond argued. “Although, I do believe there is some waste in there, as well.”
“I am not surprised you would think that,” Baldwin huffed.
Lord Desmond eyed him critically. “You seem remarkably informed about the state of world affairs for a man who has isolated himself for the past three years.”
Ignoring his snide remark, Baldwin said, “That doesn’t mean I haven’t stayed abreast on the issues.”
“Then you would know that the war greatly affected our economy, our food supply, and created an unprecedented level of unemployment.”
“I do.”
“What do you propose that we do, Lord Hawthorne?” Lord Desmond asked scornfully. “After all, I would imagine that you don’t have any problem acquiring food for yourself and your family.”
Baldwin smirked. “It would appear from the looks of you that you don’t have that problem either, Lord Desmond.”
Lord Desmond slammed the papers back down onto the table. “If you read the bill, you will see the advantages of having the Home Office oversee the poor. It would free up the parishes to deal with other matters within their borders.”
“How exactly did you determine that?”
In a dismissive tone, Lord Desmond replied, “It is much too complicated for you to understand.”
“Allow me to be the judge of that,” Baldwin responded.
“The Poor Laws are outdated, and the parishes cannot create workhouses fast enough to help with the growing number of the poor. The government needs to provide these workhouses and contract out the management of them.”
“Aren’t some workhouses already contracted out in that manner?”
“They are,” Lord Desmond confirmed, “but most parish workhouses appoint a person or group of people within the parish to manage it, called the overseers of the poor.”
“And it is your opinion that contracting out the work to someone is much more efficient than using the overseers of the poor.”
Lord Desmond nodded. “It is, especially since some overseers are far more effective than others.”
“Then why don’t you draft a bill that changes how the workhouses are managed rather than burden us with a bill that creates a new agency within the Home Office to oversee the poor?”
“Because we need more workhouses in the rookeries, and we need them now,” Lord Desmond declared. “The Home Office has resources that would allow us to build these workhouses without delay.”
The Lord Chancellor rose from his chair and announced, “I’m afraid it is time we move on to other pressing matters.” He shifted his gaze to Lord Westinghouse. “You now have the floor.”
As Baldwin returned to his seat, Percy leaned closer and whispered, “I wouldn’t look now, but Lord Desmond is staring daggers at you.”
“I am not the least bit surprised.”
