Chapter 3
The next morning, when Westminster Abbey’s bells rang, Greg stood resolute on the cobblestones leading to the grandiose doors of the House of Lords. The ancient stones beneath his feet seemed to thrum with the weight of history, echoing the countless footsteps of those who had come before him. The chill London air made him draw his coat tighter around him, and his hope faltered as he prepared to make a lone Knight’s jump on a path nobody from his closest circle of friends could follow. His gaze lifted to the imposing structure, its gothic spires clawing at the grey sky above, a stark reminder of the gravity of the work unfolding within its walls—laws were passed by a few to be followed by the masses.
He’d first seen grand surroundings like this in Eton’s great halls, where the royals had come and gone. But even there, he had Fave and Arnold by his side. They’d hidden their Jewish identity, Greg had kept their secret, and he’d cherished their friendship at a time when his parents had sent him off to boarding school to get a gentleman’s education and prepare for a career in parliament.
On campus and in the lecture halls at Oxford, he felt as though he followed the footsteps of great thinkers whose intellectual brilliance had shaped England, while most of his classmates had only women or liquor on their minds—with the exception of Fave and Arnold, who again remained by his side. Both Fave and Arnold had excelled at their studies and reveled in the intellectual stimulation at Oxford—clandestine Jews hiding in plain sight among the aristocrats. There, Greg cultivated the skill of staying two steps ahead of their opponents—suspicious classmates asking uncomfortable questions. He protected his friends, and in return, they became his family.
By the time Greg was in his second year of studies, his father’s health had taken a bad turn, and Greg knew he’d soon be a Baron. A few years later, even though Arnold’s bride had questioned Greg’s loyalty to the Jews, Arnold came with Greg on a fleet of schooners to establish a trade route for gem roughs and pearls from America. After they’d returned, Greg’s friendship with the Klonimuses, the other Jewish family of Crown Jewelers in London, a diamond dynasty of amazing people, had blossomed. Even when he visited India, Ben Klonimus had not left him. The lure of his home country called, unmuted by his distance from the great island where his Jewish friends, his only and best friends, lived. Thus, every time Greg stepped up toward the large double doors to Westminster, his stomach churned for the Jews were not allowed there.
As he entered, the murmurs of hushed conversations enveloped him like a cloak, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of old wood and ink on paper. He moved through the corridors with a purposeful stride trying to convince himself he belonged there as much as the others around him, whose ancestors’ portraits lined the walls. But the doubt he’d harbored resonated with the soft tap of his shoes against the marble floors.
The sounds grew louder as he neared the chamber, a cacophony of voices clashing in heated debate. Greg cringed when a particularly harsh accent rose above the others, enunciating the open vowels with devilish malice. List was there, his Prussian accent slicing through the noise like rolling thunder announcing a storm.
Entering the fray, Greg’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, where sunlight through the stained-glass windows painted the room in a muted array of colors. He could feel the eyes of the assembly upon him, a mix of scrutiny and expectation that sent a shiver down his spine. Some of the other parliamentary members nodded in his direction, pausing mid-sentence. The tension was palpable, an almost physical force pressing against him as he made his way to the front.
“There he is!” the Lord Chancellor bellowed as he thrust his hammer on the podium. “Silence!”
“Am I late?” Greg asked one of the white-haired lords he usually sat beside.
“We started as soon as the international representative of the matter arrived. Sit, Stone.”
As the Lord Chancellor gestured to Greg, a tall figure appeared.
Greg’s heart plummeted with a thud so loud the disappointment was probably audible.
“Baron von List has come with the diplomatic question of the Jewish Emancipation on the Continent,” the Lord Chancellor informed Greg.
Sure he has.
“He’s shared his reservations about the bill introduced…” But Stone didn’t hear the rest when he realized that disaster was already underway.
His mind was a battlefield, torn between rage and panic as he stopped listening to the Lord Chancellor’s arguments against Jewish emancipation. People rustling in their seats echoed his unrest as if the room itself was shifting uncomfortably, mirroring the storm inside him. This tension made it hard for Greg to breathe, as if the very atmosphere was conspiring to suffocate him. The room’s sounds sharpened, each heightening his turmoil. Quills scratched on paper like taunts, mocking the fairness he craved, carving injustice directly into him with the pain of those being openly oppressed. It emphasized the futility of his family’s sacrifice—of his sacrifice, the relentless noise a stark reminder of the power in the hands of those opposing freedom.
Greg tuned in and out as he surveyed the room, trying to calm his mind and hide the fury bubbling within while the speeches continued.
In alignment with the diplomatic relations with the Prussian, Austrian, and Russian empires, Baron von List came to discuss a matter of grave import—the question of granting emancipation to the Jewish population within our realms. Let us not be led astray by the whims of modernity that seek to upend the very fabric of our society, which has long been established upon Christian principles.
List, with his smug grin, stoked the flames of Greg’s anger further. That grin was cruel, evidence of List’s enjoyment of the discomfort and pain of others. His icy blue eyes showed nothing but emptiness beneath, a complete lack of compassion or humanity. Staring into them sent a shiver down Greg’s spine, plunging him into a deeper despair.
As our Prussian friend pointed out, we must consider the precedent such an act would set. To offer full civic rights to those of the Jewish faith would invite a reevaluation of the roles and rights of all subjects under the Crown, potentially leading to unrest and instability within our borders.
Greg had hit a wall—not one made of bricks, for those could be torn down, but a wall within humanity’s limited ability to reason and listen to the heart. List didn’t have the latter, nor did his argument that the Lord Chancellor seemingly soaked up like a sponge in a muddy puddle, filthy with the propaganda List had imported from Prussia.
How then can we expect a harmonious integration of such disparate entities within the framework of our nation?
With every sense heightened and every emotion at its peak, Greg felt utterly alone in his fight. Yet, despite the chaos, a determined spark lit within him. He knew he couldn’t let the bleakness win. Despite the daunting path ahead, Greg resolved to stand against the tide of hate and bias. This wasn’t merely a moment of internal conflict; it was the start of his stand for justice.
Furthermore, the economic implications cannot be ignored. The admission of Jews to full citizenship could disrupt the current balance of trade and commerce, giving rise to competition that might disadvantage our established Christian merchants.
Aha! Competition and commerce, there was the problem. It always came down to money.
To drastically alter the composition of our Anglican society would risk unraveling it, introducing foreign elements that could weaken our national character.
It is also worth noting that such measures have not been adopted by our neighbors and allies, who recognize the dangers of too hastily embracing such radical change. We must not isolate ourselves by pursuing a course uncharted and unendorsed by our brethren nations.
Let us proceed with caution, lest we disturb the peace and prosperity we currently enjoy.
In conclusion, while the notion of emancipation may appeal to the sensibilities of some, we must weigh these temporary sentiments against the lasting welfare of our kingdom. It is our duty to maintain the order and principles that have long upheld our society, ensuring the continued prosperity and unity of our nation.
With a swing of his hammer the Lord Chancellor took his seat.
Applause erupted and Greg blinked twice as some of the lords extended their arm to congratulate List for his farsighted warnings.
Greg gestured to the Lord Chancellor and cleared his throat.
“Silence!” the Lord Chancellor called. He offered Greg a spot at the podium.
Greg rose, but he feared the people had made up their mind, losing the inability to think logically and fairly.
When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the noise with surprising clarity, each word carefully chosen and delivered with conviction. The room fell silent, the abrupt pause in the commotion making Greg’s heart pound in his ears. He could feel the weight of every gaze, the collective breath of the room hanging on his next words.
“Esteemed members of this assembly, I rise today to present a vision of our nation not as it stands, divided, but as it could be—united in its diversity and strengthened by inclusivity. The question before us, Jewish emancipation, is not merely a legal matter but a testament to our values as a society committed to justice and equality.
It is essential to recognize that the Jews, like any other group within our great nation, are capable of immense contributions to the arts, sciences, commerce, and the very soul of England. To deny them full citizenship is to deny ourselves the fruits of their labor and intellect, which have the potential to elevate our society to new heights of prosperity and innovation.
Moreover, the principles upon which our nation prides itself—liberty, justice, and equal opportunity—are not exclusive to any single faith or creed. We affirm these principles by extending full rights to the Jewish people, setting a powerful example for all minorities within our borders. This act of inclusion would inspire loyalty and a deeper sense of belonging among all our citizens, thereby enriching the very fabric of our society.”
The reaction was immediate and tumultuous, a flurry of responses that flew at him like arrows. Greg stood steadfast, a rock amidst the storm, his arguments unfurling with calm precision. The clash of wills was more than a debate; it was a battle for the future, fought not with swords but words.
In the corner, seated where he could watch the chaos unfold, sat Baron von List with the self-affirming gleam of a snake before snapping up its prey.
Greg narrowed his eyes but held List’s gaze as he continued. “If we choose to encourage the Jews to be fully English, to support and contribute to British prosperity, we not only enhance our nation but position ourselves as a beacon of enlightenment and tolerance on the world stage. Conversely, should we turn them away, we risk not only the loss of their contributions but the tarnishing of our international reputation.”
List chuckled, his crossed arms shaking as his face stretched into a broad grin—a dangerous one Greg recognized—the bluff of an experienced gambler.
A dangerous strategist.
“Furthermore, the argument that Jewish customs and laws are incompatible with British values underestimates the capacity of our society to grow and learn from new perspectives. Diversity in thought and belief has always been a source of strength and resilience for nations, driving progress and fostering a more harmonious society.
The economic concerns raised by some can be addressed not through exclusion but through integration and collaboration. The unique skills and entrepreneurial spirit of the Jewish community can complement and enhance our existing trade and commerce, leading to greater prosperity for?—“
“For you!” List called as if the Prussian had a voice in parliament. “So you can enrich yourself with the fortune of the Pearlers and Klonimuses, and the money they divert from the Crown!”
Greg paused, trying to control his fury at the interruption. How dare the Prussian self-appointed diplomat accuse his friends and family of stealing from the Crown?
“You are as misguided, Baron von List, as you are misinformed.” Greg shot him a warning stare and then turned back to the lords. “In regard to loyalty, it is a grave mistake to assume that granting full rights would divide allegiances. History has shown that inclusion fosters loyalty; when people are made to feel a part of the nation, they are more likely to contribute positively and work towards its success.”
“And how many more baptized Jews do you want to bring to the House of Lords?” said a person from the back.
List turned and exchanged smiles, raising his hands in silent applause of his supporter.
“Imagine King Solomon taking George’s seat!” said another person, drawing a round of vicious laughter.
Greg’s expression tightened. He was losing the battle, but the war continued, one in which values clashed with popular opinion. List had put his pawns in defense before an attack—how terribly unoriginal. He showed every evidence of a weak character, not just on the black-and-white squares of a board but also in the shades of grey in international diplomacy.
“You speak as though driven by desperation, Baron von List. Are you afraid the Jews can uproot your culture and national honor?”
List rose and slapped the armrest. “How dare you imply that?—”
“That you are sitting on an outdated throne? That you are too viscous in your thinking to understand that progress is fluid and can come from any citizen?” The room grew quiet. “It is a step forward that acknowledges every individual’s inherent dignity and potential, regardless of faith.”
“You’re nothing but a figurehead for the Crown Jewelers, Stone! Shame on you!” List shouted.
The Lord Chancellor raised his palm and requested silence prior to initiating the debate between List and Greg. “What is your allegation?”
“He’s seeking self-enrichment with the fleet and trade routes with the Pearlers and Klonimuses. I’ve watched him and?—”
Greg interrupted him. “Then you have seen the extensive ledgers and records we kept of all the transactions?”
“Fakes!” List roared, red-faced, veins popping up on his forehead, his blond hair standing up.
“Not even the Bailiff Nagy has been able to prove that. The Prince Regent appointed the Crown Jewelers not because they are Jewish, not because they are British, not because they are honest businessmen, but because they are the best.” Greg put a hand on his chest. “And I don’t know about you, leaders of this great nation, but the critics who have nothing to show but empty criticism are suspicious in their motives. I’d rather associate with the best.”
Gregory left the speaker’s podium to no applause, without support, but with hope that his words had planted a seed from which justice could sprout. He listened as his peers debated the Jewish Disabilities Bill, voices echoing off the gilded walls, each a sentinel to the status quo. The chamber was a whirlpool of contention—a seething crowd intent on maintaining the thick barriers of intolerance that Greg felt rather alone trying dissolve in parliament.
A death stare from List reached him from across the room. All the sacrifices of his forefathers upon the altar of assimilation—to don the cloak of Christianity—in vain. Where was the acknowledgment of his family’s endeavors? Had the businesses they’d founded, the fleet he’d commanded, and the trade routes they’d pioneered been lost to the gales of arrogance?
Tension simmered, revealing a more profound conflict of ideologies than either side dared to voice. Today, frigid disparagement was served colder than the February air gnawing at London’s cobblestones. The session was almost over and after the pause for spring and summer, it would be even harder to make progress in parliament. The truth brandished its steel, cleaving Greg’s illusions. He was a marionette in a theatre where strings were pulled by hands cobwebbed in antiquity—not the sort Fave had studied, but the rigid misinterpretations that divided nations. Sparta and Athens had not taught these great scholars anything but bred arrogance from Eton to Oxford and Westminster.
And Greg wasn’t sure his family’s sacrifice had been worth this seat.