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Getting Real | Morning, 31st December- Xmas 1677


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Henrow & Ethel

 

Located just off the Strand, this was the most famous land agent in London, known for its discretion.

 

Master Farlow, a man dressed in black with a white lace collar, sat behind a ledger, making notes with a large quill. The room was filled with books and one or two scrolls, all neatly stacked onto bookshelves. A map of London hung prominently on the wall with little pins stuck into them.

 

James had visited on the 27th to speak with Master Farlow about the options for property in Whitechapel suitable for the new Royal Infirmary. The man had begged a few days to investigate what might be available, with a barn or church being the most likely categories that would satisfy James's needs. They'd discussed the options of renting versus purchasing, but a decision would await the agent's prices.

 

Still, it was in a positive frame of mind that James entered the real estate agent's establishment that morning; the last of the year. Things were progressing, and progress brought it's own satisfaction.

 

"Good morning." He greeted the clerk cheerfully. "Baron Wentwood to see Master Farlow; he is expecting me." The little man was rugged up to the nines and quite pleased to be indoors; the cold didn't suit him in the slightest.

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  • 4 weeks later...

"Show Lord Wentwood in at once," Farlow commanded his clerk needlessly. "Some hot tea perhaps?" the realtor offered.

 

"How is your family milord? You enjoying the holiday season well enough at court? I've got my papers right here," he mumbled as he showed James to a seat near his desk. There were too many papers and maps on the surface of the desk to make finding anything a chore.

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"Tea would be lovely." James replied, seating himself neatly and with a certain amount of anticipation. Today would be a big step in fulfilling his promise to the Queen.

 

But pleasantries first, of course. Society would quite fall apart without politeness. "They are very well, thank you. My young daughter is growing fast, and my wife enjoying the celebratory season. And yourself?" He assumed that Farlow was married.

 

At the mention of his papers, James's gaze was drawn to the surface of the desk, which was not so dissimilar from his own. "Excellent. I'm sure that Her Majesty will be pleased when I return with the news." The Queen Karoline London Royal Infirmary would be becoming a reality.

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"Good to hear. Good to hear," the man replied absent-mindedly as he searched his desktop for the right map.

 

"My own family has gone less noticed this season as there is great demand for real estate. Ordinarily things are quiet this time of year. Frankly, I think the Catholics are putting their homes up for sale. Not that I blame them mind you."

 

"Ah, here it is," he announced triumphantly as he pulled forth the map. "There's a lovely two acre spot with a view of the river if you were thinking of building. the current place is but a ruin. Next to some pork renders but you get used to the smell," he offered hopefully. "It is aggressively priced."

 

"The other place is an abandoned church. Big enough for a hospital I think. It's an old stone building. It was called St. Oswald Beyond the Tower but it's not been used since the plague. I'm not really certain who owns title to it. I think it is the city and the Mayor is keen to sell it to someone with coin. It lies on only a half acre and it is but mayhaps 7000 square feet. I'm thinking I could get it for you for 1000 pounds."

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“I’m sorry to hear that, though I’m sure your family understands.” James commiserated on the subject of Farlow not being home much. Presumably it was balanced by a healthy commission, but James couldn’t help but think of Noni’s preference for being home. The idea that the Catholics were selling up was… logical but unsettling. Were they all moving to the continent amidst the unrest? Most likely. If England went to war with France, they might find themselves in equal trouble there.

 

Wentwood listened with interest as Farlow outlined the two properties he’d located, each suitable in different ways. I must remember to send him something for his family for Christmas. James mused. Farlow was a handy man to know. Her Majesty had said that she wanted to open sooner rather than grander, so from the sound of things the Church would be the way to go.

 

“Forgive my ignorance on these matters Master Farlow, but can the Mayor sell the church if the provenance of the title is uncertain?” Presumably there was some sort of system for dealing with properties with extinct owners. “Given the preference for opening earlier, St Oswald’s sounds like exactly what I’m looking for.” Which would be well indeed, and within budget. Churches ran to stone which was easy to clean. He’d have to ask a priest whether anything had to be done first.

 

But the other property piqued his interest. Two acres of land in London was not to be sniffed at. Even with a renderer next door. Especially with a renderer next door. “Tell me about this ruined lot though. Is it in London proper, or on the outskirts? And when you say ‘aggressively priced’… “ He let that hang in the air. “I might be of a mind to make a private purchase.” Perhaps it was ruined from the fire; a lot of places had been. There was a chronic housing shortage in London and a lot could be done with two acres. Pitched to the right people, the smell wouldn’t even be a consideration.

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"Bona vacantia milord. It's Latin for ownerless goods. It seems that the land was granted by the city to the parishoners for 125 years for an annual rent of 1 pounds. The whole congregation disappeared almost 15 years ago and no one has paid the sum. So, it has escheated and reverted back to the city. The Lord Mayor is convinced that title is sound. The city has hired Edmund Howe of the law firm Cheatum & Howe to examine the title and they believe all is in order. There are no clouds on the title sir. Shall I be telling the Mayor that you shall be buying the property then? A real bargain I am thinking." He looked hopeful that James would consent and place a 50 pound commission into his pocket thereby.

 

"As for the other property ... " Farlow pulled out the map and pointed to it. "Here it isin the Tower Hamlets. It is southwest of the Isle of Dogs where the river turns south. See it here?" He pointed on the map south of the West India Company docks.* It is maybe a quarter mile south. There are factories, warehouses and livestock pens in the area mostly. It's not really a place to build a house unless you bought the surrounding land. But, it would be a good business place. Hospital, place to store medicines and such. It has 200 feet of riverfront. You can put in your own dock. Properties like these are very hard to come by but the owner is in a bit of a financial bind, so he is willing to let it go for a quick sale. Maybe 500 pounds? I might be able to convince him to let you steal it for that," he urged.

 

 

* South of modern day Canary Wharf in southern Millwall

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“‘Ownerless goods’, of course.” James said the phrase in unison with the agent. Latin was the academic language, though the legal applications were largely unknown to him. “How very interesting. And one supposes that there must be systems for dealing with such things.” He listened as Farlow described the investigations into the history of the property.

 

Cheatum and Howe, now there was a firm name that bore no good omen, if one set stock in such things. But James was an enlightened man of reason and did not. Farlow had not done him wrong thus far. “Indeed, do let the Mayor know that I wish to purchase the property, on behalf of Her Majesty’s Charities. The title shall be to the Crown.” In case anyone might claim James was lining his own pockets.

 

Leaning forward as Farlow pulled out a map, James saw that the second property wasn’t simply near the waterfront; it was the waterfront! He’d been thinking convenient workers cottages, but as the agent spoke he could see that this particular parcel had far more potential. A dock and a warehouse would be an obvious beginning. James knew little enough of such things, but he imagined that he could find those who did. “How very interesting.” He mused.

 

Wondering how much it would take to develop it, James was never the less aware that these kind of opportunities did not hang around; if he saw the potential so would others. “Excellent. Yes, I’ll take that one as well, as a personal purchase.” He stipulated. This one would be a consideration in his own name, and at his own expense. “You have quite the talent for finding the right property for the right buyer.” He observed, intending it as a compliment.

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Farlow enjoyed dealing with aristocrats. They often made decisions on emotion and rarely haggled.

 

"Excellent excellent milord. You're the type to see opportunity where others see rubbish," he offered as a compliment. "We'll have the papers drawn up and to you within a week. If you find them in order, we can complete the sale shortly afterwards" He paused to see if there were questions.

 

"A very happy new year to you and your lady wife milord. God bless you for your charity on behalf of the Queen and the city. Should you want to visit either, I employ a young runner by the name of Stanley that can take you there and point them out so that you can take their measure. Don't want you surprised. They will both need some imagination and work."

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Imagining himself quite the astute businessman, James fairly glowed with Farlow's compliment. But what was the man saying? Oh yes, he probably should see the properties first. "Excellent, in the meantime if you would arrange for young Stanley to show me the properties, that would be splendid." Just in case there was something horrifying about them.

 

"Also, if you happen to know any reputable building firms in the areas, I would appreciate it if you would forward me their details. Perhaps you could send them with Stanley." Because James didn't doubt work would be needed on both. If he was lucky the church building would be intact, and only require internal renovations, at least initially. If he was unlucky it would be a ruin. As for this waterside property, he would have to wait and see.

 

And that was really about it. "A very good day to you Master Farlow, and thank you for your assistance. I shan't trespass on your time further, and I'll express my hope that you might be able to close up shop early and head home to your family. A fine and happy Christmas to you and yours." James said with a smile as he prepared to leave, feeling quite chuffed about the whole thing.

 

OOC: Fin?

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"As luck would have it milord, my younger brother Trevor does repairs. Something of a family interest you might say." Lord Wentwood might be a real asset to the Farlow clan. "I shall have Stanley bring the details. Just tell me a time and day and I'll send the boy scampering to your doorstep.

 

 

~fin

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  • 3 weeks later...

"Excellent, please do." James replied, of the mind that this was all going splendidly. "How about tomorrow morning, if that will suit you?"

 

OOC: Did you want to play out visiting the properties, or should we handle the details in James's compendium? I'm happy to play out but don't want to take up your time unecessarily.

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