‘“No, sir, that wasn’t what I meant at all,” I carried on.’ Another, longer, salvo rang out from deeper into the trees. A lone woodcock, possibly sole survivor of the carnage, flew overhead, aiming for a place of greater safety further south. “It’s the Budget, Lord Hodder, the vote on the Budget.”
‘Our new noble Lord grew quite cross about now, Selina. “Don’t be ridiculous, young man. Don’t vote on the bloody Budget. Not in any of my companies. People will be asking for democracy next, for Christ’s sake. Budget’s a matter for the board, always has been.” I’m terribly sorry, my lord, I said, I haven’t made myself clear. I was interested in how you intend to vote in the House of Lords about approving Lloyd George’s Budget or not.’
‘“Lloyd George’s Budget? House of Lords? Why didn’t you say so? Tell you the truth,” Lord Hudder poured himself another enormous glass of port at this point, Selina, “I’m not quite sure exactly where the House of Lords is. Is it inside Buckingham Palace? Bloody place is big enough, for God’s sake. You see, I got a letter from somebody or other telling me I’d been made a peer of the realm and what did I want to be called. I wrote back and said I’d like to be called Lord Hudder of Huddersfield and the wife can be Lady Hudder – she does like a title, our Mildred. But since then, nothing. It’s like somebody tells you you’ve been left a heap of shares in a relative’s will and then forgets to invite you to the annual general meeting. Is this vote a bit like a company annual general meeting? Confirm the board of directors in place? Increase the dividend? That sort of thing?” At this point, Selina, I felt I should give up. But the noble lord wasn’t giving up.’
‘“I think I’ve got it,” he says, downing the rest of his port. “Is this Budget thing the government’s annual general meeting about the money, the taxes and all that sort of stuff?” I pointed out that there were various increases in taxation, taxes on development land, increases in death duties to pay for more dreadnoughts and welfare payments like old age pensions. “Sounds jolly good to me,” Lord Hudder said cheerfully, the port beginning to take effect perhaps. “I like dreadnoughts. Kill lots of Germans. Death duties damned good thing too. No point in leaving your children lots of money. They’ll only spend it, not earn it. Much better for them to have to make their own living. You just let me know when the vote is and where this House of Lords is and I’ll go down there and support this Lloyd George fellow. Vote to keep him and the other directors in place. That’ll be a good day’s work.”’
‘The Conservatives won’t be pleased if he does that,’ said Selina. ‘Why make a rich businessman a peer if he votes with the other side?’
‘I just wonder if he’ll do it,’ said Sandy, staring upwards at another clump of refugee birds fleeing the scene, ‘vote with Asquith and Lloyd George. He won’t be a popular boy, that’s for sure.’
‘Sandy,’ said Selina, grabbing him by the hand, ‘I’m sure they will all have gone out for the shooting and the servants will have finished cleaning the rooms by now. Why don’t we just take a little trip back to the house?’
14
The slaughter in the woods came to an end shortly after four o’clock in the afternoon. The American financier called Wright had failed to hit a single bird, morning or afternoon. His fellow guns felt he was more of a danger to them than he was to the wildlife. But he kept his good humour throughout the debacle, reminding whoever would listen that he was never allowed near the baseball field in his native country as he couldn’t hit the ball. The tall thin man called Burroughs, however, shot an unbelievable number of birds. He never missed. He never spoke either. Of the two the shooting party preferred the man who shot none to the man who shot so many.
Shortly after tea Sandy Temple found himself seated next to the other peer of the realm at the house party. Lord Winterton of Winterton Staithe was as different from Lord Hudder as it was possible to be. Lord Hudder was recently ennobled. Lord Winterton’s title had been in his family for five hundred years. Lord Hudder made his money from his chain of grocery shops. Lord Winterton had many thousands of acres in Norfolk and extensive property in Norwich and in London’s West End. Lord Hudder had yet to speak in the House of Lords. Winterton had made his maiden speech nearly twenty years before on the early death of his father.
He looked about forty years old. Sandy thought you could see him, with that blond hair and the deep blue eyes and the arrogance of aristocracy, immortalized in uniforms of scarlet and black on the walls of the long galleries of the great houses of England, painted full-length by Lawrence or Reynolds, surrounded on all sides by his ancestors.
Sandy Temple decided to take the plunge. After a conversation with Winterton he could refer to ‘peers I have spoken to recently’ in his articles for The Times if he so wished. ‘Excuse me, Lord Winterton, would you mind if I asked you a question?’
‘Not at all,’ said the peer, scarcely moving from his newspaper. ‘Fire ahead.’
‘My question is this,’ said Sandy, ‘how do you intend to vote when Lloyd George’s Budget comes up in the Lords?’
‘Do you have a personal interest in the matter, young man?’
‘My name is Sandy Temple, sir. I work for The Times, in the parliamentary and political department, covering the work of both houses.’
‘Delighted to meet you, Mr Temple. I do believe I may have read some of your stuff in the past couple of years. How nice to have somebody to talk politics with in this place. The rest of them are all obsessed with killing as many birds as possible.’
‘And the Budget, Lord Winterton?’
‘Ah, the Budget! This is one of the most difficult decisions I have had to take since first sitting on those red benches. I think I shall have to vote against my principles, not something I care to do very often. Perhaps I’d better explain, young man. I am a Conservative. I like to think of myself as a proper Conservative. I don’t like change. I don’t like reform unless it is absolutely necessary. I believe very strongly in preserving the great institutions of this country, the monarchy, the ancient constitution, the Church of England, the aristocracy, the armed forces and so on. I am more than wary when Conservative politicians start talking about the condition of England question or Tory democracy. Those are not Conservative movements. Conservative politicians should aim to do less, not more. The condition of England is a question for the people of England rather than the politicians. Tory democracy is a contradiction in terms. Lord Salisbury, may God rest his soul, was the only politician in my lifetime to believe that his job in politics and as Prime Minister was to conserve, to keep things as they were, to steer clear of change.’ Lord Winterton stopped suddenly. ‘I say,’ he said, looking closely at Sandy, ‘I’m not running away with myself, am I? You can follow what I’m saying?’
‘Perfectly,’ said Sandy. ‘Please carry on.’
‘I have long thought that some day there would be a battle between the Lords and Commons. Power is slowly seeping away from the Lords; power is growing ever stronger in the Commons. Who’s more important? If you look back at the Prime Ministers we have had over the past couple of hundred years more of them have come from the Lords than the Commons. But I think the sweep of history is with the Commons, not the Lords. I think they are probably tomorrow, if you follow me. I and people like me are yesterday. Sooner or later women will probably have the vote and all adult males will be enfranchised. The long slow tide that began sweeping through the constitution with the Great Reform Bill hasn’t finished yet. That’s why I’m going to support the government over the Budget.’