Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [549]
Porteus had other ideas.
“I fear Ralph does not care for Mr Pitt,” he said coldly.
But still the younger man refused to disagree.
“On the contrary,” he replied pleasantly, “I applaud him over many matters. ’Tis well known he favours the end of slavery as well as the emancipation of Catholics. Indeed,” he added cheerfully, “if England ends slavery, she will have far surpassed America in her freedoms, I’ll admit.”
It was true that Pitt had resigned when the king refused to allow Catholics to vote or hold office, and Wilberforce the Evangelical who campaigned tirelessly against slavery, was the statesman’s close friend and had enlisted his support. But Ralph also knew well that these were the two issues, the only two, on which Canon Porteus could never reconcile himself to his hero.
Why, Barnikel wondered, was it necessary for the younger man to tease his prickly brother-in-law in this way?
“I daresay after a month of him I should be tempted too,” he considered. Then he looked at Agnes who was now glancing at her husband in mute appeal and thought: “But I should not give in to it.”
An uneasy silence fell over the table. The canon had brought the doctor to witness Ralph’s waywardness. So far he had only been made a fool of. As for Ralph, Barnikel could see very well that, instead of being content with his little victory, he would soon be ready for another passage of words.
They ate a joint of roast beef. Barnikel tried to turn the conversation to other topics. He talked of local matters, of an extraordinary duel he had heard took place at Oxford, of his recent visit to the coast at Brighton where the Prince of Wales was building his outrageous pavilion.
“He is recklessly extravagant,” Porteus said sadly.
“Certainly, but you should see the place he is building,” Barnikel told him. “It’s like an oriental palace for some Indian maharajah.”
“Do you suppose, doctor,” Frances asked, ignoring for once the canon’s look of disapproval, “that he keeps a harem there as well?”
“Not a doubt of it, madam,” he replied with a laugh.
But their attempts to steer the conversation failed. For now the canon was ready to strike again.
Looking sombrely at the doctor, then at his wife and Agnes, he announced quietly:
“It will be a sad day when his father dies. King George III is our last hope.”
It was said matter-of-factly, but it was obviously well calculated. Barnikel saw Ralph Shockley flush and Agnes murmured to him:
“This is how it always begins.”
“Our hope for what?”
“Stability, sir.”
Barnikel saw Agnes looking at him in mute appeal. Ralph’s smile had gone.
“You mean lack of change?” he asked coldly.
“Precisely. I am against religious toleration, because it weakens the Church of England.”
“And reform of Parliament – you are happy that Old Sarum returns two members to Parliament at the whim of its owner while large bodies of men in northern cities have no representatives at all?”
“How members of Parliament do their duty to the king is far more important than who sent them there.”
“And poor half-starved labourers should still live in feudal servitude in England, and men be sold as slaves abroad?” he asked indignantly.
Porteus did not answer. He had set out only to goad Ralph, and he had succeeded, but a small muscle in his pale cheek was flexing irritably.
Ralph’s face had become flushed. He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and glanced at Barnikel. Seeing no look of support he turned to Porteus again.
“Well, I am against ancient despotism,” he said angrily. “And I am for the Rights of Man and Charles James Fox. Perhaps after all,” he went on evenly, “we need a revolution here.”
There was a terrible silence.
Even Agnes, though she knew he did not mean it, was shocked.
“How can you say sucha thing, when Bonaparte himself is across the Channel?” she protested.
“I say it because I see very plainly that England is a tyranny too,” he said acidly, “where the vote is restricted to a few, where religious freedom is not allowed, where the poor