‘I expect he has patients to see,’ Mrs Taylor added apologetically. ‘I’m afraid we can’t say for certain he’ll be able to call in before you’d be wanting to retire, sir.’
It was then that Mr Harry Smith, the little man with the furrowed brow, leaned forward again and said: ‘That Mr Lindsay, he had it all wrong, see? Acting the way he did. Thought he was so much better than us, and he took us all for fools. Well, I can tell you, sir, he soon learnt otherwise. A lot of hard thinking and talking goes on in this place. There’s plenty of good strong opinion around and people here aren’t shy about expressing it. That’s something your Mr Lindsay learnt quickly enough.’
‘He was no gentleman,’ Mr Taylor said quietly. ‘He was no gentleman, that Mr Lindsay.’
‘That’s right, sir,’ Mr Harry Smith said. ‘You could tell just watching him he was no gentleman. All right, he had a fine house and good suits, but somehow you just knew. And so it proved in good time.’
There was a murmur of agreement, and for a moment all present seemed to be considering whether or not it would be proper to divulge to me the tale concerning this local personage. Then Mr Taylor broke the silence by saying:
‘That’s true what Harry says. You can tell a true gentleman from a false one that’s just dressed in finery. Take yourself, sir. It’s not just the cut of your clothes, nor is it even the fine way you’ve got of speaking. There’s something else that marks you out as a gentleman. Hard to put your finger on it, but it’s plain for all to see that’s got eyes.’
This brought more sounds of agreement around the table.
‘Dr Carlisle shouldn’t be long now, sir,’ Mrs Taylor put in. ‘You’ll enjoy talking with him.’
‘Dr Carlisle’s got it too,’ Mr Taylor said. ‘He’s got it. He’s a true gent, that one.’
Mr Morgan, who had said little since his arrival, bent forward and said to me: ‘What do you suppose it is, sir? Maybe one that’s got it can better say what it is. Here we are all talking about who’s got it and who hasn’t, and we’re none the wiser about what we’re talking about. Perhaps you could enlighten us a bit, sir.’
A silence fell around the table and I could sense all the faces turn to me. I gave a small cough and said:
‘It is hardly for me to pronounce upon qualities I may or may not possess. However, as far as this particular question is concerned, one would suspect that the quality being referred to might be most usefully termed “dignity”.’
I saw little point in attempting to explain this statement further. Indeed, I had merely given voice to the thoughts running through my mind while listening to the preceding talk and it is doubtful I would have said such a thing had the situation not suddenly demanded it of me. My response, however, seemed to cause much satisfaction.
‘There’s a lot of truth in what you say there, sir,’ Mr Andrews said, nodding, and a number of other voices echoed this.
‘That Mr Lindsay could certainly have done with a little more dignity,’ Mrs Taylor said. ‘The trouble with his sort is they mistake acting high and mighty for dignity.’
‘Mind you,’ put in Mr Harry Smith, ‘with all respect for what you say, sir, it ought to be said. Dignity isn’t just something gentlemen have. Dignity’s something every man and woman in this country can strive for and get. You’ll excuse me, sir, but like I said before, we don’t stand on ceremony here when it comes to expressing opinions. And that’s my opinion for what it’s worth. Dignity’s not just something for gentlemen.’
I perceived, of course, that Mr Harry Smith and I were rather at cross purposes on this matter, and that it would be far too complicated a task for me to explain myself more clearly to these people. I thus judged it best simply to smile and say: ‘Of course, you’re quite correct.’
This had the immediate effect of dispelling the slight tension that had built in the room while Mr Harry Smith had been speaking. And Mr Harry Smith himself seemed to lose all inhibitions, for now he leaned forward and continued:
‘That’s what we fought Hitler for, after all. If Hitler had had things his way, we’d just be slaves now. The whole world would be a few masters and millions upon millions of slaves. And I don’t need to remind anyone here, there’s no dignity to be had in being a slave. That’s what we fought for and that’s what we won. We won the right to be free citizens. And it’s one of the privileges of being born English that no matter who you are, no matter if you’re rich or poor, you’re born free and you’re born so that you can express your opinion freely, and vote in your member of parliament or vote him out. That’s what dignity’s really about, if you’ll excuse me, sir.’
‘Now now, Harry,’ Mr Taylor said. ‘I can see you’re warming up to one of your political speeches.’
This brought laughter. Mr Harry Smith smiled a little shyly, but went on:
‘I’m not talking politics. I’m just saying, that’s all. You can’t have dignity if you’re a slave. But every Englishman can grasp it if only he cares to. Because we fought for that right.’
‘This may seem like a small, out of the way place we have here, sir,’ his wife said. ‘But we gave more than our share in the war. More than our share.’
A solemnness hung in the air after she said this, until eventually Mr Taylor said to me: ‘Harry here does a lot of organizing for our local member. Give him half a chance and he’ll tell you everything that’s wrong with the way the country’s run.’
‘Ah, but I was just saying what was right about the country this time.’
‘Have you had much to do with politics yourself, sir?’ Mr Andrews asked.
‘Not directly as such,’ I said. ‘And particularly not these days. More so before the war perhaps.’
‘It’s just that I seem to remember a Mr Stevens who was a member of parliament a year or two ago. Heard him on the wireless once or twice. Had some very sensible things to say about housing. But that wouldn’t be yourself, sir?’
‘Oh no,’ I said with a laugh. Now I am not at all sure what made me utter my next statement; all I can say is that it seemed somehow called for in the circumstances in which I found myself. For I then said: ‘In fact, I tended to concern myself with international affairs more than domestic ones. Foreign policy, that is to say.’
I was a little taken aback by the effect this seemed to have upon my listeners. That is to say, a sense of awe seemed to descend on them. I added quickly: ‘I never held any high office, mind you. Any influence I exerted was in a strictly unofficial capacity.’ But the hushed silence remained for several more seconds.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ Mrs Taylor said eventually, ‘but have you ever met Mr Churchill?’
‘Mr Churchill? He did come to the house on a number of occasions. But to be quite frank, Mrs Taylor, during the time I was most involved in great affairs, Mr Churchill was not such a key figure and was not really expected to become one. The likes of Mr Eden and Lord Halifax were more frequent visitors in those days.’
‘But you have actually met Mr Churchill, sir? What an honour to be able to say that.’
‘I don’t agree with many things Mr Churchill says.’ Mr Harry Smith said, ‘but there’s no doubt about it, he’s a great man. It must be quite something, sir, to be discussing matters with his like.’
‘Well, I must reiterate,’ I said, ‘I didn’t have a great deal to do with Mr Churchill. But as you rightly point out, it’s rather gratifying to have consorted with him. In fact, all in all, I suppose I have been very fortunate, I would be the first to admit that. It has been my good fortune, after all, to have consorted not just with Mr Churchill, but with many other great leaders and men of influence – from America and from Europe. And when you think that it was my good fortune to have had their ear on many great issues of the day, yes, when I think back, I do feel a certain gratitude. It’s a great privilege, after all, to have been given a part to play, however small, on the world’s stage.’
‘Excuse me asking, sir,’ Mr Andrews said, “but what sort of a man i
s Mr Eden? I mean, at the personal level. I’ve always had the impression he’s a jolly decent sort. The sort that can talk to anyone high or low, rich or poor. Am I right, sir?’
‘I would say that is, by and large, an accurate picture. But of course I have not seen Mr Eden in recent years, and he may have been much changed by pressures. One thing I have witnessed is that public life can change people unrecognizably in a few short years.’
‘I don’t doubt that, sir,’ said Mr Andrews. ‘Even Harry here. Got himself involved with his politics a few years back and he’s never been the same man since.’
There was laughter again, while Mr Harry Smith shrugged and allowed a smile to cross his face. Then he said:
‘It’s true I’ve put a lot into the campaigning work. It’s only at a local level, and I never meet anyone half as grand as the likes you associate with, sir, but in my own small way I believe I’m doing my part. The way I see it, England’s a democracy, and we in this village have suffered as much as anyone fighting to keep it that way. Now it’s up to us to exercise our rights, every one of us. Some fine young lads from this village gave their lives to give us that privilege, and the way I see it, each one of us here now owes it to them to play our part. We’ve all got strong opinions here, and it’s our responsibility to get them heard. We’re out of the way, all right, a small village, we’re none of us getting younger, and the village is getting smaller. But the way I see it we owe it to the lads we lost from this village. That’s why, sir, I give so much of my time now to making sure our voice gets heard in high places. And if it changes me, or sends me to an early grave, I don’t mind.’
‘I did warn you, sir,’ Mr Taylor said with a smile. There was no way Harry was going to let an influential gentleman like yourself come through the village without giving you his usual earful.’
There was laughter again, but I said almost immediately:
‘I think I understand your position very well, Mr Smith. I can well understand that you wish the world to be a better place and that you and your fellow residents here should have an opportunity to contribute to the making of a better world. It is a sentiment to be applauded. I dare say it was a very similar urge which led me to become involved in great affairs before the war. Then, as now, world peace seemed something we had only the most fragile grasp of, and I wished to do my part.’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Mr Harry Smith, ‘but my point was a slightly different one. For the likes of yourself, it’s always been easy to exert your influence. You can count the most powerful in the land as your friends. But the likes of us here, sir, we can go year in year out and never even lay eyes on a real gentleman – other than maybe Dr Carlisle. He’s a first-class doctor, but with all respect, he doesn’t have connections as such. It gets easy for us here to forget our responsibility as citizens. That’s why I work so hard at the campaigning. Whether people agree or disagree – and I know there’s not one soul in this room now who’d agree with everything I say – at least I’ll get them thinking. At least I’ll remind them of their duty. This is a democratic country we’re living in. We fought for it. We’ve all got to play our part.’
‘I wonder what could have happened to Dr Carlisle,’ Mrs Smith said. ‘I’m sure the gentleman could just about use some educated talk now.’
This provoked more laughter.
‘In fact,’ I said, ‘although it has been extremely enjoyable to meet you all, I must confess I’m beginning to feel rather exhausted …’
‘Of course, sir,’ Mrs Taylor said, ‘you must be very tired. Perhaps I’ll fetch another blanket for you. It’s getting much chillier at night now.’
‘No, I assure you, Mrs Taylor, I’ll be most comfortable.’
But before I could rise from the table, Mr Morgan said:
‘I just wondered, sir, there’s a fellow we like to listen to on the wireless, his name’s Leslie Mandrake. I just wondered if you’d happened to have met him.’
I replied that I had not, and was about to make another attempt to retire only to find myself detained by further inquiries regarding various persons I may have met. I was, then, still seated at the table when Mrs Smith remarked:
‘Ah, there’s someone coming. I expect that’s the doctor at last.’
‘I really ought to be retiring,’ I said. ‘I feel quite exhausted.’
‘But I’m sure this is the doctor now, sir,’ said Mrs Smith. ‘Do wait a few more minutes.’
Just as she said this, there came a knock and a voice said: ‘It’s just me, Mrs Taylor.’
The gentleman who was shown in was still fairly young – perhaps around forty or so – tall and thin; tall enough, in fact, that he was obliged to stoop to enter the doorway of the cottage. No sooner had he bade us all a good evening than Mrs Taylor said to him:
‘This is our gentleman here, Doctor. His car’s stuck up there on Thornley Bush and he’s having to endure Harry’s speeches as a result.’
The doctor came up to the table and held out his hand to me.
‘Richard Carlisle,’ he said with a cheerful smile as I rose to shake it. ‘Rotten bit of luck about your car. Still, trust you’re being well looked after here. Looked after rather too well, I imagine.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘Everyone has been most kind.’
‘Well, nice to have you with us.’ Dr Carlisle seated himself almost directly across the table from me. ‘Which part of the country are you from?’
‘Oxfordshire,’ I said, and indeed, it was no easy task to suppress the instinct to add ‘sir’.
‘Fine part of the country. I have an uncle lives just outside Oxford. Fine part of the country.’
‘The gentleman was just telling us, Doctor,’ Mrs Smith said, ‘he knows Mr Churchill.’
‘Is that so? I used to know a nephew of his, but I’ve rather lost touch. Never had the privilege of meeting the great man, though.’
‘And not only Mr Churchill,’ Mrs Smith went on. ‘He knows Mr Eden. And Lord Halifax.’
‘Really?’
I could sense the doctor’s eyes examining me closely. I was about to make some appropriate remark, but before I could do so, Mr Andrews said to the doctor:
‘Gentleman was just telling us he’s had a lot to do with foreign affairs in his time.’
‘Is that so indeed?’
It seemed to me that Dr Carlisle went on looking at me for an inordinate length of time. Then he regained his cheerful manner and asked:
‘Touring around for pleasure?’
‘Principally,’ I said, and gave a small laugh.
‘Plenty of nice country around here. Oh, by the way, Mr Andrews, I’m sorry not to have returned that saw yet.’
‘No hurry at all, Doctor.’
For a little time, the focus of attention left me and I was able to remain silent. Then, seizing what seemed a suitable moment, I rose to my feet, saying: ‘Please excuse me. It has been a most enjoyable evening, but I really must now retire.’
‘Such a pity you have to retire already, sir,’ Mrs Smith said. ‘The doctor’s only just arrived.’
Mr Harry Smith leaned across his wife and said to Dr Carlisle: ‘I was hoping the gentleman would have a few words to say about your ideas on the Empire, Doctor.’ Then turning to me, he went on: ‘Our doctor here’s for all kinds of little countries going independent. I don’t have the learning to prove him wrong, though I know he is. But I’d have been interested to hear what the likes of yourself would have to say to him on the subject, sir.’
Yet again, Dr Carlisle’s gaze seemed to study me. Then he said: ‘A pity, but we must let the gentleman go off to bed. Had a tiring day, I expect.’
‘Indeed,’ I said, and with another small laugh, began to make my way round the table. To my embarrassment, everyone in the room, including Dr Carlisle, rose to their feet.
‘Thank you all very much,’ I said, smiling. ‘Mrs Taylor, I did enjoy a splendid supper. I wish you all a very good night.’
There came a chorus
of, ‘Good night, sir,’ in reply. I had almost left the room when the doctor’s voice caused me to halt at the door.
‘I say, old chap,’ he said, and when I turned, I saw he had remained on his feet. ‘I have a visit to make in Stanbury first thing in the morning. I’d be happy to give you a lift up to your car. Save you the walk. And we can pick up a can of petrol from Ted Hardacre’s on the way.’
‘That is most kind,’ I said. ‘But I don’t wish to put you to any trouble.’
‘No trouble at all. Seven thirty all right for you?’
‘That would be most helpful indeed.’
‘Right then, seven thirty it is. Make sure your guest’s up and breakfasted for seven thirty, Mrs Taylor.’ Then turning back to me, he added: ‘So we can have our talk after all. Though Harry here won’t have the satisfaction of witnessing my humiliation.’
There was laughter, and another exchange of good nights before I was at last allowed to ascend to the sanctuary of this room.
I trust I need hardly underline the extent of the discomfort I suffered tonight on account of the unfortunate misunderstanding concerning my person. I can only say now that in all honesty I fail to see how I might reasonably have prevented the situation developing as it did; for by the stage I had become aware of what was occurring, things had gone so far I could not have enlightened these people without creating much embarrassment all round. In any case, regrettable as the whole business was, I do not see that any real harm has been done. I will, after all, take my leave of these people in the morning and presumably never encounter them again. There seems little point in dwelling on the matter.
However, the unfortunate misunderstanding aside, there are perhaps one or two other aspects to this evening’s events which warrant a few moments’ thought – if only because otherwise they may come to niggle one throughout the coming days. For instance, there is the matter of Mr Harry Smith’s pronouncements on the nature of ‘dignity’. There is surely little in his statements that merits serious consideration. Of course, one has to allow that Mr Harry Smith was employing the word ‘dignity’ in a quite different sense altogether from my own understanding of it. Even so, even taken on their own terms, his statements were, surely, far too idealistic, far too theoretical, to deserve respect. Up to a point, no doubt, there is some truth in what he says: in a country such as ours, people may indeed have a certain duty to think about great affairs and form their opinions. But life being what it is, how can ordinary people truly be expected to have ‘strong opinions’ on all manner of things – as Mr Harry Smith rather fancifully claims the villagers here do? And not only are these expectations unrealistic, I rather doubt if they are even desirable. There is, after all, a real limit to how much ordinary people can learn and know, and to demand that each and every one of them contribute ‘strong opinions’ to the great debates of the nation cannot, surely, be wise. It is, in any case, absurd that anyone should presume to define a person’s ‘dignity’ in these terms.