shadow of britain

Chapter 756 Different Politicians, Different Hamlets

The carriage suddenly jolted violently, tilting to one side, and the axle and crossbeam snapped with a crack.

Disraeli was nearly thrown from his seat, his whole body flailing wildly like a herring thrown out of the water, trying to maintain his balance.

He slumped to the floor, half of his coat draped over his shoulders, rubbing his backside as he struggled to get up.

"Damn it!"

Arthur's situation wasn't much better than Disraeli's. When the vehicle was hit, the silver-plated cane was right next to him. If he hadn't reacted quickly, he would have been pierced through by the cane stuck in the gap between the seats.

However, before Arthur could react, he heard Disraeli's wailing.

"My car! My new car!"

Disraeli flung open the car door and jumped out.

The horse pulling the cart was already kneeling, its hooves deeply embedded in the mud. The surrounding weeds had been knocked down by the wheels, revealing mottled, slippery roots and soil. The left side of the cart had also been dented, a hole the size of a head. A dying doe lay by the roadside; judging from its bloodied head, it was undoubtedly the culprit.

Disraeli's face turned ashen, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

Arthur got out of the car and took a look, then could only comfort him, "It's alright, Benjamin, it's good that everyone's okay."

“That’s it?” Disraeli’s voice trembled. “Do you know how much this carriage cost me? Three hundred and seventy pounds! I advanced half of my royalties, and borrowed the other half from Alexander. The lead horse was a gift from Mrs. Sykes to congratulate me on my election victory—a fine hunting horse! If I had bought it myself, it would have cost another hundred pounds. After getting the carriage, I barely rode in it more than a few times, and then…”

Disraeli grew angrier and angrier. He couldn't help but kick the dying doe, but whether it was because the road was too slippery or he lost his footing, he missed and almost fell into the mud.

Arthur reached out and pulled him back: "Calm down, Benjamin. You almost ruined another set of clothes that cost twenty or thirty pounds."

Disraeli was panting heavily with anger. He glanced down at the deer and suddenly his pupils contracted sharply.

"and many more……"

He bent down and parted the weeds on the dead deer's belly, revealing a bullet hole embedded in the fur. The edges of the wound were charred, and traces of gunpowder burns remained.

"This deer wasn't killed by a collision!" the usually refined and amiable Mr. Disraeli roared, rarely losing his composure. "It was shot! It was a deer that had been wounded and fled onto the road. In other words, this wasn't an accident, but murder! A premeditated murder of a carriage in its prime!"

Arthur stared at the bullet hole in the deer's belly, clutching his chest in discomfort, and groaned, "Ouch..."

The driver, Andrew, jumped out of the carriage: "The deer was indeed startled. I was wondering why I thought I heard gunshots in the woods just now. Sir, shall we go and settle accounts with the hunter?"

"Looking for him?" Disraeli was furious. He rolled up his sleeves and cursed, "I not only want him to pay compensation, but he also has to publish his apology letter to me in the newspaper! A hunter firing a shot without locking onto his prey is more unforgivable than a senator voting without being sworn in!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a brown and white hunting dog darted out of the woods, sniffing the bloodstains on the ground and heading straight for the carcass of the doe.

"Damn beast!"

Enraged, Disraeli launched a flying kick.

Caught off guard, the hunting dog let out a mournful howl and flew halfway before crashing into a pile of dead leaves by the roadside.

However, the next second, the sound of approaching hooves came from afar.

Four or five riders slowly emerged from the mist in the forest.

The middle-aged gentleman at the very front, riding a dark brown hunting horse and wearing a dark green deerskin cloak, was none other than Viscount Palmerston.

To his right, the Viscount of Melbourne, dressed in a grey-blue hunting robe, still had his eyes half-closed. It was more as if he had been carried there by a horse than that he had ridden there.

Behind them, several hunting servants dressed in hunting clothes hurriedly spurred their horses to catch up, clearly having followed the hunting dogs all the way.

Palmerston glanced first at the fallen hound, then at Disraeli's muddy boots and flushed face, his eyelids twitching almost imperceptibly. Although no one said a word, he could roughly guess what had happened from the chaotic scene.

He glanced down at Disraeli, then turned to Arthur and smiled politely.

“Ah, Sir Arthur Hastings, I never expected to meet you in this wood. You should have told me you were coming to Hampshire.”

Arthur was equally surprised to run into two old acquaintances in this place.

But on second thought, it doesn't seem like such a strange thing.

Because Palmerston's fiefdom, Broadlands Manor, seems to be nearby, and Palmerston has served as the local sheriff and honorary officer of the militia for many years, giving him substantial influence over Hampshire.

In the first general election after the parliamentary reforms of 1832, the former Foreign Secretary voluntarily moved his constituency from Cambridge to South Hampshire and was successfully elected as the first Member of Parliament in the history of this newly created constituency.

In other words, Hampshire is Palmerston’s home base.

Palmerston glanced at Disraeli, who was covered in mud, furious, and with his hair plastered to his forehead, and asked with a hint of mockery, "Looks like you're in trouble. Need any help, Mr. Disraeli?"

Upon hearing this, Disraeli's face immediately turned bright red: "Need help? Of course I need help! I need to find out which blind hunter did it, then drag him off his saddle and into the mud to confess. To be honest, that shot was really accurate, hitting the deer's lung, but it blew up my car and almost cost me the life of this rising political star."

Palmerston remained unmoved. He glanced at the hunting servant behind him and casually asked, "Who fired the shot?"

Upon hearing this, the Viscount of Melbourne couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

The hunters looked at each other, and when Palmerston saw that no one stepped forward, he asked again, emphasizing his words: "I said, who fired the shot?"

Upon hearing this, the hunters understood Viscount Palmerston's meaning. The lead hunter rode forward and said, "Sir, it's me. I saw that the deer was quite thin; one shot should be enough, so I took matters into my own hands..."

“Unauthorized firing.” Palmerston said calmly, his gaze returning to Disraeli. “Unfortunately, as you can see, our young man is indeed a bit too eager to make a name for himself.”

"Meritorious service?"

Palmerston's evasive answer made Disraeli's legs tremble with anger: "What feat did he accomplish? Was it that I flew out of the car window? Or that my purebred hunting horse was lame?"

Viscount Melbourne finally spoke up: “It does sound rather unseemly, but I just glanced at it and your horse is still alive, just weak in the legs, not broken.”

“But my car is more than just weak-legged!” Disraeli, furious, didn’t care about anything else: “Broken axle! Scratched paint! Dentated door! This is a Waterloo in the world of transportation! Your servant ruined my car, so you have to pay for it!”

"A Waterloo in the world of transportation?" Palmerston, adjusting his saddle, raised an eyebrow. "You're probably exaggerating the problem. But it wouldn't be good for you and Sir Arthur to leave disappointed after your long journey. Since you insist, I'll fulfill my duty as host."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and turned to an older servant beside him: "Go to the stables and pick out a spare carriage."

The old servant bowed slightly and asked in a low voice, "Which one are you referring to?" "The one parked in the rose shed. Quickly harness it and have someone bring it over here."

"You wouldn't be referring to..."

Palmerston interrupted his servant before he could finish speaking, saying, "That's the one. It's sturdy, durable, rainproof, and crashproof, and it's not easily frightened by deer."

After speaking, Palmerston turned to Disraeli and said, "As for your carriage, I will contact a mechanic in Broadlands for you, and I will cover all the repair costs. Once the carriage is repaired, I will send someone to deliver it to your residence in London."

Upon hearing Palmerston's impeccably courteous compensation arrangement, Disraeli opened his mouth, intending to seize the opportunity to lash out again, but the former foreign minister before him handled the matter flawlessly. For a moment, Disraeli's anger, though not completely subsided, was rendered speechless.

This is not hard to understand, though, since they are both members of parliament, there is a significant difference in their levels of experience.

Disraeli was, in fact, just an undersecretary of state for the Foreign Office who had not yet taken office, while Palmerston had been the head of the Foreign Office for three years.

Disraeli held his breath, and finally could only snort coldly: "Since you have said so, if I continue to pester you, it will only make me seem greedy."

After speaking, he flicked his cloak, glanced at the wreckage of the carriage, and called to the coachman Andrew, "Andrew, you stay here and take care of this carriage. When the repairmen arrive, explain the situation clearly. Once it's fixed, don't wait for me, just take it straight back to London."

Terrified by the conflict between the important figures, Andrew replied with relief, "Understood, sir."

After giving his instructions to Andrew, Disraeli let out a long sigh, as if he had finally vented all his resentment.

He paused, then turned to Viscount Melbourne and said, "It's getting late. If we delay any longer, we might not make it to town tonight. Could you lend me two more horses so that Sir Arthur and I can go ahead?"

The Viscount of Melbourne remained silent, but turned to look at Palmerston.

Palmerston, understanding the unspoken message, gestured and said, “Anthony, Bentley, dismount! Your two horses are gentle enough for Mr. Disraeli and Sir Arthur to ride.”

Perhaps because he disliked Disraeli, Palmerston surprisingly ignored him this time and instead unusually introduced the mare to Arthur: "This mare is named Ansellow, and she's the one I usually walk around the estate. She's very steady, perfect for someone like you who's still shaken by the car accident. As for this stallion, it's Bernard. He pulled my float during last year's town parade, so he's quite experienced."

Arthur took the reins from the hunter's hand: "Thank you, sir."

"It's no thank you." Palmerston turned his horse around, flicked his whip to the brim of his hat, and said goodbye to Arthur half-jokingly, "If you really want to thank me, just come to Hampshire more often and go to the Caucasus less. Come to the manor for tea sometime. Broadlands is nearby. Viscount Melbourne and I have some things to attend to, so we won't keep you company any longer."

Arthur smiled slightly and tightened his grip on the reins: "As long as there are no deer running amok in the woods, I'd be happy to come to Hampshire often."

“But I’m not so keen on it,” Disraeli interrupted abruptly, muttering as he awkwardly mounted his horse. “Next time, I’ll have to get a hunting road safety report from the local magistrate’s court first.”

Disraeli's barbed grumbling amused the Viscount Melbourne, who couldn't help but chuckle: "If you can really do that, I'll write to His Majesty the King and suggest you become a magistrate."

Disraeli did not seem to take the Viscount Melbourne's words as sarcasm. He had just settled himself in when he replied, "Thank you, Your Excellency, but I do not aspire to be a magistrate. My ambition is to be above the Cabinet."

After saying this, Disraeli and Arthur turned their horses around and galloped away.

Palmerston watched the two figures leave, then frowned and spat, "Arrogant Jews! Admittedly, parliamentary reform has many advantages, but one of its disadvantages is that it's making the House of Commons more and more like a magazine."

Melbourne began, “Arrogant? Perhaps, but he was far more arrogant three years ago. Back then, he wasn’t even a Member of Parliament, yet he dared to tell me in Downing Street that he would one day be Number 10. As for now, he is at least the Deputy Minister of State in the Department of Foreign Affairs. Compared to three years ago, I think this kid is much more humble now that he says he will become Prime Minister.”

However, although Melbourne said this, he also knew that Palmerston loathed Disraeli, and his hatred for Disraeli was no less than his hatred for Arthur Hastings.

Because Palmerston and Arthur's conflicts occurred more in private settings, such as private conversations in the Foreign Office and rebukes and rebuttals in correspondence.

But openly, in the newspapers, they at least did not publicly accuse each other.

But Disraeli was different. This Jewish guy not only publicly contradicted Palmerston during his report to the House of Commons, but also accused Palmerston of "diplomacy with fireworks, a game of lighting fires and then stopping them, and that Palmerston himself is a circus performer pretending to take risks to please the public."

Moreover, he even included Palmerston in his novel "Cunningham," using the character to allude to Palmerston's "pseudo-Whigism" and "gentlemanly reaction."

Although Palmerston, true to his old-school politician ways, considered it beneath his dignity to clash with a younger man like Disraeli, and thus never directly retaliated against Disraeli's attacks, it goes without saying that he harbored deep resentment towards Disraeli.

The Viscount of Melbourne's tone was devoid of any praise or criticism; he simply commented, "What an expressive young man."

Palmerston listened intently: "Expressive? You mean noisy?"

Viscount Melbourne smiled and said, "I didn't expect that after meeting Disraeli, you would be able to put aside your grudge against Arthur Hastings."

“William, that’s different,” Palmerston emphasized. “Hastings is a man you can talk to, and disliking someone doesn’t mean you have to completely reject them. Even though I dislike him, I have to admit that under the right conditions, Hastings is a useful person, and a very useful one at that. But Disraeli? Absolutely not!”

Upon hearing Palmerston's reply, the Viscount of Melbourne was relieved of his concerns.

In fact, Arthur had the idea of ​​reviving the legend of Scotland Yard as early as when he returned to London from Russia.

However, firstly, his most important political ally at the time, Palmerston, was at odds with Arthur.

Secondly, Arthur seemed to be getting too close to radical liberals at that time.

Compared to other Whigs, the Viscount of Melbourne was an outlier; in fact, from a political point of view, he should have joined the Tory Party.

Melbourne's joining the Whig Party was largely due to family tradition, specifically the arrangements made by her mother, Mrs. Melbourne Sr.

Aside from the Viscount of Melbourne, you'd be hard-pressed to find a Whig prime minister who wouldn't put national reforms on his agenda.

He never had any expectation of building a new, better country, nor did he have any idea of ​​making laws for it.

To most people, he might just seem like a harmless, old-fashioned gentleman. Aside from his occasional frivolous behavior and tendency to doze off, you can't really pinpoint any other characteristics of Melbourne.

But in reality, none of the Whigs who were considered stronger and more capable than him were able to shake his position as party leader.

His political skills are often underestimated, but regardless, stagnation has always been Viscount Melbourne's preferred stance in terms of political views.

His personal political motto also confirms this statement. When he was in the Home Office, the most common thing people heard from Viscount Melbourne was, "Why can't we put it aside?"
What's even more ridiculous is what he said to Bishop Whitley in private.

According to Bishop Whitley, the Viscount of Melbourne had told him personally that if he had been in power last year, he would certainly have ignored the complete abolition of slavery.

This is also the main reason why William IV decided to appoint the Viscount of Melbourne as prime minister after the Earl of Grey stepped down at the beginning of the year.

Given Melbourne's personality and political views, he would naturally view Arthur from a different perspective than Palmerston.

After all, in his view, under the political premise of not deploying the army and not allowing the Tories to take the opportunity to grow stronger, Arthur Hastings, the legendary figure of Scotland Yard, might be the only solution to keep the discontented workers and the unemployed in line.

(End of this chapter)