Unholy Alliance

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The blizzard that howled across the icy expanse ofLake Ontario and struck the defenceless city broadside on thisparticular midwinter evening was little noticed by the fivegentlemen seated in the drawing-room of the Bishop’s palace onFront Street. After all, supper had been lavish, as usual, and morethan satisfying, especially so since not one of the prelate’sguests felt himself to be less than deserving of the great man’slargesse. Friday evening was secular night at John Strachan’spalatial residence, an opportunity for men of worth and promise tocongregate, sup well, gossip idly, and then move on to discuss thepressing political issues of these turbulent times. Though theguest-list varied from week to week, those attending invariablyshared a number of beliefs and convictions. That all were adherentsof the Church of England was a given, and whether that fact wasinstrumental in shaping the rest of their character or not, theywere, to a man, High Tory in their politics, conservative in theirmorals and demeanour, terribly sensitive to distinctions of raceand class, and inclined towards capitalist enterprise. And no lessimportantly, they were susceptible to a good cigar and a finesherry.

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