rose before her, over-dressed, her hair heavily powdered, her face a mask of rouge and white lead.
The subject was distasteful so she changed it.
‘How gratifying it is that that cruel law has been changed. I remember my parents talking about it long before I went toFrance. One of the most cruel aspects was that which enabled the son of a Catholic turned Protestant to take over his father’s possessions. Just imagine if Walter, John or Charles had done that. What a dreadful law!’
‘All laws against minorities are monstrous. But we are fortunate in our King, Maria. He has always stood for tolerance and he is a good man. I know many people laugh at him … call him “Farmer George” because he is fond of the land, and “The Button Maker” because he is interested in handcrafts. They call him dull because he is a faithful husband – but I think he is a good man.’
‘But a good man is not necessarily a good king. What of the Colonies? I fancy King George has played an important part in that disastrous affair.’
‘You have a point there, my dear,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But I was referring to his tolerance. He has protected Methodists and Quakers in the past – and I believe he has always been sympathetic towards us.’
A servant came in at that moment to announce that Sir Carnaby Haggerston had called.
Maria rose to greet her brother-in-law and drew back in dismay when she saw how agitated he was.
‘Lord George Gordon is mustering the Protestant Association and I’ve heard that he is inciting them to rise up against the Catholics of London. My God, I pray we are not going to have riots here … as they’ve been having in Scotland.’
‘Impossible,’ said Thomas. ‘The Protestant Association is a worthy body. I’m sure of this.’
‘But,’ said Haggerston, ‘I hear that Gordon is a madman.’
Maria sat at an upper window in the house in Park Street. Terror had struck London and she knew that at any moment the mob might come running into this very street, stop at this very house, break down the doors and destroy or burn their possessions.
Thomas had urged her to leave London, but that she would not do. It was his duty, Thomas said, to stay here. The houses of his friends had been looted and some of their priests were in danger. He must do all he could to get them removed to places of safety. He would not be true to his Faith if he ran away tothe country to hide himself there. Besides, who knew when these riots would spread even into the country. But he deplored the fact that Maria was in the centre of the trouble.
Maria for once was in disagreement with her husband. Her mouth set into firm lines, for Maria could be very firm when she considered it necessary to be, and she said: ‘If you stay in London, Thomas, I shall stay too. You may need my help.’
And Thomas found it impossible to persuade her.
The trouble had seemed to break out suddenly. At the heart of it was mad Lord George Gordon, an insignificant younger son of a noble house, good looking, a bon viveur , a Member of Parliament who could not get himself taken seriously.
That, Maria had said to Thomas, was at the root of the trouble. Lord George was determined to call attention to himself no matter if he laid waste half London to do so. He was a Protestant, and when he had been elected President of the Protestant Association of England he believed he had that chance. He announced his intention of bringing about the repeal of the Catholic Act, that Act which had given the rights to Catholic subjects in England which had so long been denied them. He had spoken in Parliament where his diatribes had not been given serious attention; he had had an audience with the King which had brought no success.
To a man such as Gordon, obsessed by the need to call attention to himself, these rebuffs only strengthened his resolution. The Parliament and King rejected him; very well there was the mob.
The nightmare days followed. Members of the