Lord Tebbit brings up the gunboats, while bullied Bragg is ‘inflexibil’

Lord Tebbit did not sound impressed. “Somehow,” harrumphed the former Tory chairman, “we seem to be thinking of nothing but the rights of foreigners!” Fellow peers flapped and huffed. They had gathered to debate the future of EU immigrants already living in Britain. Should the Government unilaterally guarantee their right to remain? Or should it – as Theresa May prefers – wait until the EU makes the same guarantee for British emigrants?

It was put to Lord Tebbit that the House was focusing on “the rights of foreigners” because that was all it could do. Ultimately, deciding on the rights of British emigrants was a matter for the countries they live in.

“Of course we don’t have the power to look after our citizens overseas,” grumbled Lord Tebbit. “Not these days, when we don’t have many gunboats ….”

As the Government feared, most peers wanted to guarantee immigrants’ rights unilaterally. Speech after speech trumpeted the virtue of bestriding “the moral high ground”, and deplored the use of human beings as “bargaining chips” in a negotiation. The mood was exemplified by the crossbench peer Lord Kerslake. “The right thing to do,” he whinnied nobly, “is to do the right thing.”

Among those sharing this view was Melvyn Bragg, or, to give him his proper title, Baron Bragg. The television arts presenter, dressed in a professorially crumpled corduroy jacket, spoke stoutly of contributions that immigrants make to “our cultural and intellectual life”. But that wasn’t the only reason he had to oppose the Government. “I speak strongly for minorities,” he quivered, “because I am a member of one! A bullied and beleaguered minority, whose views have been dismissed and effectively gagged!”

This minority, he revealed, was “those who voted Remain!” Peers stared at him, some with looks of admiration, others of puzzlement.

Certainly, it was true, those who voted Remain were a minority, but if they can still express their views from the floor of the House of Lords, then the gagging hadn’t been quite as effective as Lord Bragg suggested.

Viscount Hailsham, meanwhile, offered historical parallels. “Think how shocked Europe was,” he cried, “when Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes!” Peers nodded gravely. They remembered it well.

On the whole, though, the debate was pretty samey. In the end, the speech I enjoyed listening to most was the one by the former Tory leader Lord Howard, if only because I love the way he pronounces a certain syllable – or syllabil.

For “simple”, he says “simpil”; for “noble”, “nobil”; for “possible”, “possibil”; and for “unpalatable”, “unpalatabil”. I like it. In some inexplicable, or inexplicabil, way, it makes him sound like a cartoon vampire.

Not that it stops him getting his point across. He’s perfectly intelligibil.