Alsatian Island
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- Alsatian Island
Wynstedy, Aldertury 16, 997
Tuesday, November 20, 1923
North Athersbury, Osynstry
Winter had started once again, as snow began to settle on the frozen ground.
The Prime Minister slowly walked through the cold streets, the gentle sea breeze lapping through his cold, grey, wispy strands of hair, as he looked upon the City he presided over. He was a man in his 60s - and it sure showed - slim, fairly tall, dapper and with a voice of wisdom. Not the deep, anunciated, charismatic one of his adversary, young Asmont, but one of experience. He wore a top hat, as was customary, and spoke the King's English.
And yet something was wrong. He lacked the energy that had led his first term. Asmont, comparably, seemed energetic and full of fervour. As Lansbury would say, he seemed full of himself to the point of self-indulgence.
Maybe there was good reason for this. During his administration, the "real left" had finally taken hold in the North. He returned to the Senate and the House with such a reduced majority that his liberal conservative Senate members could easily topple his bills.
He noted that he had walked out of his home district, into an industrial areas. The air choked him, the noise deafened him and the houses were an unhealthy black. If they could be called houses. No wonder Asmont had such traction among the poor - they lived in destitute conditions, and to be honest with himself, it was little of his business how they got along, for they put themselves there.
Of course the fact that we live in a period known as the Depression is perhaps not the cheeriest of times for many. This did not help Lansbury's position - already undermined by dismal election figures and the endless standoff with the unions, thanks to Edwards in the late 1890s, the only thing keeping him in control was his statesmanship and adept leadership as a Prime Minister.
He found Asmont in the street. A man in his mid to late 20s, with a full head of well combed, brown hair, a new hat, equally dapper and a few inches taller than Lansbury. Asmont immediately recognised the old man opposite him, and with a friendly "Good day!", and the offering of his hand, Lansbury firmly shook it.
"What a pleasant surprise for us to meet here, Charles."
"Of course, Mr. Asmont." Lansbury's face, although worn by the ravages of time, smiled widely. Asmont's easily smiled back, time's war against him futile at this point.
"Why have you ventured here, I dare ask, surely this does not represent the average neighbourhood of the Prime Minister? I daresay, are you lost?"
Lansbury considered lying, but opted to relent. "I daresay I am."
Asmont led him back towards Llywydd Street, where the sounds of jovial life resumed.
"That industrial area reminds me, Prime Minister, are you going to consider my offer to begin negotiations over the unions? They have offered much and worked hard to save the economy in these hard times," Asmont proffered slightly for a moment, "and the very least one could do is to take up their kind offer to engage in civil discussion."
Lansbury thought for a moment. Maybe for once, the young man was right.
"You know what, I think I shall."
A gentle smile came across Asmont's face and they shook hands again.
"Superb. I shall be on my way now, and I hope to see you tomorrow at the Senate."
Lansbury thought to himself how peculiar it was for a Leader of the Opposition to have such a good working relationship with an ideologically opposing Prime Minister, but he was hardly to complain. He'd need as much cooperation as possible whilst the unions riot and the economy is in freefall. As history has taught, fear becomes anger and anger leads to new Prime Ministers.
Tuesday, November 20, 1923
North Athersbury, Osynstry
Winter had started once again, as snow began to settle on the frozen ground.
The Prime Minister slowly walked through the cold streets, the gentle sea breeze lapping through his cold, grey, wispy strands of hair, as he looked upon the City he presided over. He was a man in his 60s - and it sure showed - slim, fairly tall, dapper and with a voice of wisdom. Not the deep, anunciated, charismatic one of his adversary, young Asmont, but one of experience. He wore a top hat, as was customary, and spoke the King's English.
And yet something was wrong. He lacked the energy that had led his first term. Asmont, comparably, seemed energetic and full of fervour. As Lansbury would say, he seemed full of himself to the point of self-indulgence.
Maybe there was good reason for this. During his administration, the "real left" had finally taken hold in the North. He returned to the Senate and the House with such a reduced majority that his liberal conservative Senate members could easily topple his bills.
He noted that he had walked out of his home district, into an industrial areas. The air choked him, the noise deafened him and the houses were an unhealthy black. If they could be called houses. No wonder Asmont had such traction among the poor - they lived in destitute conditions, and to be honest with himself, it was little of his business how they got along, for they put themselves there.
Charles Lansbury was 63 in late 1923, and would die aged 79, in 1940. After leaving office, he only lived to see one other Prime Minister - his adversary, George Asmont.
George Asmont was 26 in November 1923, and would die aged 103 in 2001. He would live to see 10 other Prime Ministers after his terms, as well as serving 4 himself, and would become a vocal critic of Newbury in his middle age, and a vocal critic - albeit one with, as he said, "a level of understanding for her actions" - of Greenwood in his old age.
George Asmont was 26 in November 1923, and would die aged 103 in 2001. He would live to see 10 other Prime Ministers after his terms, as well as serving 4 himself, and would become a vocal critic of Newbury in his middle age, and a vocal critic - albeit one with, as he said, "a level of understanding for her actions" - of Greenwood in his old age.
Of course the fact that we live in a period known as the Depression is perhaps not the cheeriest of times for many. This did not help Lansbury's position - already undermined by dismal election figures and the endless standoff with the unions, thanks to Edwards in the late 1890s, the only thing keeping him in control was his statesmanship and adept leadership as a Prime Minister.
He found Asmont in the street. A man in his mid to late 20s, with a full head of well combed, brown hair, a new hat, equally dapper and a few inches taller than Lansbury. Asmont immediately recognised the old man opposite him, and with a friendly "Good day!", and the offering of his hand, Lansbury firmly shook it.
"What a pleasant surprise for us to meet here, Charles."
"Of course, Mr. Asmont." Lansbury's face, although worn by the ravages of time, smiled widely. Asmont's easily smiled back, time's war against him futile at this point.
"Why have you ventured here, I dare ask, surely this does not represent the average neighbourhood of the Prime Minister? I daresay, are you lost?"
Lansbury considered lying, but opted to relent. "I daresay I am."
Asmont led him back towards Llywydd Street, where the sounds of jovial life resumed.
"That industrial area reminds me, Prime Minister, are you going to consider my offer to begin negotiations over the unions? They have offered much and worked hard to save the economy in these hard times," Asmont proffered slightly for a moment, "and the very least one could do is to take up their kind offer to engage in civil discussion."
Lansbury thought for a moment. Maybe for once, the young man was right.
"You know what, I think I shall."
A gentle smile came across Asmont's face and they shook hands again.
"Superb. I shall be on my way now, and I hope to see you tomorrow at the Senate."
Lansbury thought to himself how peculiar it was for a Leader of the Opposition to have such a good working relationship with an ideologically opposing Prime Minister, but he was hardly to complain. He'd need as much cooperation as possible whilst the unions riot and the economy is in freefall. As history has taught, fear becomes anger and anger leads to new Prime Ministers.