he was born seven months and twelve days later.
‘Now, my lords, I’d be the first to accept that’s a possibility, but as a betting man, if I was given the choice between nine months and seven months and twelve days, I know where I’d place my wager, and I don’t think the bookies would offer me very long odds.’
A little laughter broke out on the Labour benches.
‘And I should add, my lords, that the child weighed in at nine pounds four ounces. That doesn’t sound premature to me.’
The laughter was even louder.
‘Let us next consider something else that must have slipped Lord Harvey’s agile mind. Hugo Barrington, like his father and his grandfather before him, suffered from a hereditary condition known as colour-blindness, as does his son, Giles. And so does Harry Clifton. The odds are shortening, my lords.’
More laughter followed, and muttered discussion broke out on both sides of the House. Lord Harvey looked grimly on, as he waited for the next punch to land.
‘Let us shorten those odds still further, my lords. It was the great Dr Milne of St Thomas’ Hospital who discovered that if parents shared the same Rhesus negative blood type, then their children will also be Rhesus negative. Sir Hugo Barrington was Rhesus negative. Mrs Clifton is Rhesus negative. And surprise, surprise, Harry Clifton is Rhesus negative, a blood type that only twelve per cent of the British people share. I think the bookies are paying out, my lords, because the only other horse in the race didn’t reach the starting gate.’
More laughter followed, and Lord Harvey slumped even lower on the bench, angry that he hadn’t pointed out that Arthur Clifton was also Rhesus negative.
‘Now allow me to touch on one thing, my lords, on which I am whole-heartedly in agreement with Lord Harvey. No one has the right to question Sir Joshua Barrington’s will, when it has such a fine legal pedigree. Therefore, all we have to decide is what the words “first born” and “next of kin” actually mean.
‘Most of you in this House will be well aware of my strongly held views on the hereditary principle.’ Preston smiled before adding, ‘I consider it to be
This time the laughter only came from one side of the House, while those on the benches opposite sat in stony silence.
‘My lords, should you decide to ignore legal precedent and tamper with historical tradition, simply to suit your own convenience, you will bring the hereditary concept into disrepute, and in time the whole edifice will surely come crashing down on your lordships’ heads,’ he said, pointing to the benches opposite.
‘So let us consider the two young men involved in this sad dispute, not, I might say, my lords, a dispute of their making. Harry Clifton, we are told, would prefer that his friend Giles Barrington inherit the title. How very decent of him. But then Harry Clifton is, without question, a decent man. However, my lords, should we travel down that road, every hereditary peer in the land would, in future, be able to decide which of his offspring he would prefer to succeed him, and that, my lords, is a road with a dead-end sign.’
The House had fallen silent and Lord Preston was able to lower his voice to barely a whisper.
‘Did this decent young man, Harry Clifton, have any ulterior motive when he told the world that he wanted his friend Giles Barrington to be acknowledged as the firstborn?’
Every eye was on Lord Preston.
‘You see, my lords, the Church of England would not allow Harry Clifton to marry the woman he loved, Giles Barrington’s sister Emma Barrington, because they weren’t in much doubt that they shared the same father.’
Harry had never loathed a man more in his life.
‘I see the bishops’ benches are packed today, my lords,’ continued Preston, turning to face the churchmen. ‘I shall be fascinated to discover the ecclesiastical view on this matter, because they cannot have it both ways.’ One or two of the bishops looked uneasy. ‘And while I am on the subject of Harry Clifton’s pedigree, may I suggest that as a candidate in the lists, he is every bit the equal of Giles Barrington. Brought up in the back streets of Bristol, against all the odds he wins a place at Bristol Grammar School, and five years later an exhibition to Brasenose College, Oxford. And young Harry didn’t even wait for war to be declared before he left the university with the intention of joining up, only being prevented from doing so when his ship was torpedoed by a German U-boat, leading Lord Harvey and the rest of the Barrington family to believe that he had been buried at sea.
‘Anyone who has read Mr Clifton’s moving words in his book
The Labour benches erupted as one, and Lord Preston waited until the House had fallen silent once again.
‘Finally, my lords, we should ask ourselves why we are here today. I will tell you why. It is because Giles Barrington is appealing against a judgment made by the seven leading legal minds in the land, something else Lord Harvey failed to mention in his heartfelt speech. But I will remind you that, in their wisdom, the Law Lords came down in favour of Harry Clifton inheriting the baronetcy. If you are thinking of reversing that decision, my lords, before you do so, you must be certain that they have made a fundamental error of judgment.
‘And so, my lords,’ said Preston as he began his peroration, ‘when you cast your votes to decide which of these two men should inherit the Barrington title, do not base your judgment on convenience, but on strong probability. Because then, to quote Lord Harvey, you will give the benefit of the doubt not to Giles Barrington, but to Harry Clifton, as the odds, if not the pedigree, are stacked in his favour. And may I conclude, my lords,’ he said, staring defiantly at the benches opposite, ‘by suggesting that when you enter the division lobby, you should take your consciences with you, and leave your politics in the chamber.’
Lord Preston sat down to loud acclamation from his own benches, while several peers on the opposite side of the House could be seen nodding.
Lord Harvey wrote a note to his opponent, congratulating him on a powerful speech that was made even more persuasive by its obvious conviction. Following the tradition of the House, both opening speakers remained in their places to listen to the views of fellow members who followed them.
There turned out to be several unpredictable contributions delivered from both sides of the House, which only left Lord Harvey even more unsure what the outcome would be when the votes were finally cast. One speech that was listened to with rapt attention from all quarters of the chamber was delivered by the Bishop of Bristol, and was clearly endorsed by his noble and ecclesiastical friends, who sat on the benches beside him.
‘My lords,’ said the bishop, ‘if, in your wisdom, you vote tonight in favour of Mr Giles Barrington inheriting the title, my noble friends and I would be left with no choice but to withdraw the church’s objection to a lawful marriage taking place between Mr Harry Clifton and Miss Emma Barrington. Because, my lords, were you to decide that Harry is not the son of Hugo Barrington, there can be no objection to such a union.’
‘But how will they vote?’ Lord Harvey whispered to the colleague sitting beside him on the front bench.
‘My colleagues and I will not be casting a vote in either lobby when the division is called, as we feel we are not qualified to make either a political or a legal judgment on this issue.’
‘What about a moral judgment?’ said Lord Preston, loud enough to be heard on the bishops’ benches. Lord Harvey had at last found something on which the two of them were in agreement.
Another speech that took the House by surprise was delivered by Lord Hughes, a cross-bencher and a former president of the British Medical Association.
‘My lords, I must inform the House that recent medical research, carried out at the Moorfields Hospital, has shown that colour-blindness can only be passed down through the female line.’
The Lord Chancellor opened his red folder and made an emendation to his notes.
‘And therefore, for Lord Preston to suggest that because Sir Hugo Barrington was colour-blind, it is more likely that Harry Clifton is his son, is bogus, and should be dismissed as nothing more than a coincidence.’
When Big Ben struck ten times, there were still several members who wished to catch the Lord Chancellor’s eye. In his wisdom, he decided to allow the debate to run its natural course. The final speaker sat down a few minutes after three the following morning.
When the division bell finally rang, rows of dishevelled and exhausted members trooped out of the chamber and into the voting lobby. Harry, still seated in the gallery, noticed that Lord Harvey was fast asleep. No one commented. After all, he hadn’t left his place for the past thirteen hours.
‘Let’s hope he wakes up in time to vote,’ said Giles with a chuckle, which he stifled as his grandfather slumped further down on to the bench.
