shadow of britain

Chapter 905 The Queen's Mentor, and Also the King's Consort's Mentor

A letter from King Leopold I of Belgium to Queen Victoria

My dear child, I have no doubt that the Viscount of Melbourne will do everything in his power to serve you. He is now in a very advantageous position, a situation that was quite awkward under the previous king, but now he has your trust and sincere support. If the election results are favorable to the Melbourne cabinet, this will give them ample strength.

In addition, you should try your best to win over the large number of moderate Tories, who, by nature and their views, have always been solid and ideal supporters of the British monarchy. At the same time, you must also be wary of the adverse effects of the two extreme factions within the Whig and Tory parties, whether radical liberals or extreme conservatives, both of which are detrimental to your rule.

Here I would like to mention a key figure you value highly – Sir Arthur Hastings.

You may have noticed that he possessed a rare balance. As one of the first graduates of the University of London and its former Provost, he naturally enjoyed high prestige among radicals, and the spirit of that nascent institution enabled him to understand freedom of thought, the power of scholarship, and the tides of public opinion. At the same time, he was a legendary figure at Scotland Yard, deeply respected by conservatives for his fearless courage and self-sacrifice during the 1832 Parliamentary Reform Riots. Because of these two contrasting experiences, he could sympathize with reformers while also being trusted by those who maintained the status quo.

Figures like Arthur Hastings are extremely rare in any country. Because of his seemingly contradictory experiences, he can be understood by both sides, but this also often makes him unpopular with both.

But, my dear child, you must understand that people like him are most afraid of being neglected and isolated. If he feels isolated, he will remain silent. If he feels trusted, he will repay you wholeheartedly. You don't need to deliberately praise him, nor do you need to show your goodwill in public. Just let him know in crucial moments that you understand his situation and give him enough support, and that will be enough for him to be grateful for a lifetime.

I can confidently assert that as long as you can skillfully position him in the delicate balance between you and both parties, he will become an excellent bridge for balancing and communicating the power of both sides. This will greatly benefit your success, because a wise and courageous ally is always a welcome addition.

Your uncle and friend whom you can always trust

Leopold R.
Laken Palace, August 22, 1837

……

In front of St. James's Theatre, the glow of gaslights cast swaying shadows on the cobblestones.

The evening breeze lifted a corner of the red carpet in front of the door, and several newsboys were watching the carriage at the bottom of the steps from afar.

It was a carriage with extremely high four-wheel suspension and a deep black exterior. The side door was inlaid with gold relief emblems, and two grey and white Norwegian stallions stood upright with their manes neatly trimmed.

As soon as the carriage came to a stop, the coachman, dressed in a black woolen uniform and wearing a top hat, skillfully flipped himself down and gently fastened the reins to the hitching post beside him.

With a soft click, the car door, adorned with dark gold patterns, suddenly opened.

The gleaming boots were the first to step out of the carriage, their heels striking the stone pavement with a steady thud.

Then I saw a dark blue woolen cloak with a neatly folded collar, simple and clear.

After getting off the bus, Albert stood there for a moment, not in a hurry to look around, but first straightened his cuffs.

Just then, a person came to greet them from the top of the porch steps.

“Your Highness,” Arthur smiled, removed his gloves, and extended his hand to him, “Welcome to the St. James’s Theatre.”

“Sir Arthur.” Before Arthur could get close, Albert also climbed up the steps and grasped his outstretched hand: “Thank you for sending me the Göttingen Lectures, especially the section on the differences between Kant and Fichte regarding the obligations of the state, which I have read more than once.”

"It was nothing at all," Arthur replied with a smile. "My lecture notes are rather dry, after all. Any gentleman you could pick out from the Carlton Club could offer a more insightful explanation than I can. By the way, how did your afternoon go?"

Speaking of this, Albert's eyes lit up: "Fantastic. I met the Duke of Wellington there and spoke with the Earl of Aberdeen about the North German Customs Union. Of course, of all the people, the one who impressed me the most was Sir Robert Peel."

Upon hearing this, Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly, his usual smile still playing on his lips.

“Sir Peel is not an easy conversationalist,” he said, gesturing to Albert to enter the theater. “He rarely engages in small talk, dislikes flattery, and gets straight to the point. He is a true pragmatist, but certainly not a good socialite. How did you manage to strike up a conversation with him?”

Albert walked beside Arthur, looking excited and seemingly very satisfied with the afternoon's trip to Carlton: "That's why I feel he's different from everyone else. Sir Peel didn't talk to me about his family background, titles, or military achievements; instead, he immediately asked me how I viewed the conflict between agricultural tariffs and urban laborers. In his words, what the German states are currently experiencing is exactly the same path that England took twenty years ago."

“Oh?” Arthur smiled and teased, “Then it seems he doesn’t see you as a relative of the royal family, but rather as a real politician.”

“That’s exactly what he said.” Albert nodded with a smile. “He said I shouldn’t be content to play the role of a ceremonial symbol, but should focus on reconciling the gap between the old system and the new forces. He specifically used the word ‘gap,’ saying that the future Europe would no longer tolerate rigid authority, nor could it accept radicalism without limits, and that reasonable and respected middle ground must be pioneered by well-educated people who are not entirely dependent on vested interests.”

Arthur gave a soft hum: “It certainly sounds like Sir Peel’s tone. The fact that he’s willing to talk to you so frankly shows that he has high expectations for you. After all, I’ve never heard him say these things to other members of the royal family of your generation.”

As a seasoned veteran of decades in politics, Peel may not understand, and is even less willing to, deal with a princess like Victoria, who is raised in the inner palace. However, to ask him to make empty promises to a student like Albert at the University of Bonn, the Conservative Party leader's shrewdness is still too superb.

To be honest, college students like Albert are like novice porcelain in the eyes of seasoned politicians.

Exquisitely crafted and quite expensive, it looks like it can be used for decoration, but you really don't know if it can actually hold water.

Having just emerged from the piles of Latin, nationalism, and Roman law lectures at the University of Bonn, he had an instinctive fondness for complex terms like "rational governance" and "civil contract." This wasn't his fault; after all, when he was a student, he had hardly ever witnessed how a budget was forcibly distorted into something that appeased all three parties.

He was ambitious for the country but knew nothing about his constituency. He was hopeful for reform but had never witnessed the bizarre aspects of elections. He enjoyed discussing the legitimacy of power but had never dealt with a single member of parliament who disagreed.

Perhaps no one understands how to deal with such idealistic young people better than Robert Peel.

After all, no matter how you look at it, Peel's resume is really impressive.

Albert, as a college student, may find it difficult to understand things he hasn't actually experienced, and therefore it's hard for him to have much awe for the bigwigs in the political circle when it comes to political practice.

Just as his respect for Arthur stemmed solely from Arthur's exceptional academic background and the lecture notes he left behind while teaching at the University of Göttingen.

And what about Peel? Although Peel has never been a professor, he was just elected as the Chancellor of the University of Glasgow at the beginning of this year.

Of course, some might say that Peele's appointment as principal was mainly due to political influence.

But even putting that aside, when Peele was studying at Oxford University, he entered Christ Church College, Oxford, on a full scholarship from Westminster.

It's important to know that only one to three new students receive the Westminster Scholarship each year, and the recipients must be outstanding in classical literature and logic and rhetoric.

In the general public's perception in 19th-century Britain, the Westminster Scholarship was not only a symbol of honor, but also roughly equivalent to a qualification to become a cabinet minister in the future.

To obtain this scholarship, one must undergo an extremely rigorous selection process. Therefore, unlike many political aristocrats of his time, Peel truly entered Oxford through examinations, rather than through bloodline or the nepotism of his father, Sir Sir Peel the Elder.

What further demonstrates Peale's academic prestige is that he was the first person in Oxford University's history to receive a First Class Honours degree in Classics since the university established its degree system.

Peale's outstanding performance in his youth naturally attracted the attention of Oxford University. Even before Peale graduated, someone privately wrote to Peale's father, predicting that his son would definitely become prime minister in the future.

As a flagship product of the Oxford education system and a first-class honors graduate of Christ Church College, Oxford, Peale himself was naturally highly symbolic of Oxford University. Therefore, from the moment Peale graduated in 1808 and entered politics, Oxford alumni spared no effort in providing maximum support to this rising star in all aspects.

In 1817, Peel changed his constituency to Oxford University, where he remained for more than a decade.

If it weren't for the Catholic Reform Act, which made Oxford alumni feel betrayed, Peale might have held onto his seat for another two or three decades.

For a college student, Robert Peel's resume is almost the ideal template for all passionate young people.

Albert certainly understood how difficult this path was.

He himself devoted himself to his studies at the University of Bonn, spending two whole months just to gain the professor's approval for the course "Foundations of Roman Law." Meanwhile, Peale easily achieved the highest score in Oxford's history in both Classics and Rhetoric.

Moreover, Peale accomplished all of this between the ages of eighteen and thirty: winning the Westminster Scholarship at Oxford, earning a first-class degree, being elected a Member of Parliament, and becoming a cabinet minister. And this young Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha is currently eighteen.

However, Albert doesn't need to be discouraged by not being able to catch up with Peel, since he still has Sir Arthur Hastings by his side to help him catch up.

Sir Arthur, now 27, entered the University of London at 16, graduated at 19 and joined Scotland Yard, was promoted to Greenwich Police Superintendent at 20, and then to Superintendent of Police in both boroughs at 21. He was originally a representative of rapid promotion.

However, perhaps due to the excessive recoil of the bullet, he wandered from place to place for the next six years before finally returning to London and taking up the chair of the Commissioner for Police Affairs.

Even so, the path Sir Arthur walked doesn't seem so simple.

After all, it is quite remarkable that this product of the excellent education of the University of London has come this far without the help of alumni resources.

Albert was engrossed in comparing Peel and Arthur the whole way, and his steps unconsciously followed Arthur as he climbed up to the second-floor box of the theater. It wasn't until he stepped onto the wooden floorboards with deep red carpet that he paused slightly, realizing that they had entered a space so quiet that they could almost hear their own heartbeats.

The theater was dimly lit, with a faint smell of paint and sawdust emanating from it. The seats were covered with dust-proof cloths, and numbered nameplates were still attached to the backrests.

The velvet curtains were not yet properly hung, some even draped diagonally over the chair backs, clearly indicating that the installation was only half-finished. Even the picture frames in the private rooms still had the artist's signature on them, and unopened wooden crates were piled up everywhere in the corners.

Albert glanced back at Arthur, looking utterly puzzled.

"This... Sir Arthur, this theater isn't open yet, is it?" he finally asked. "Is tonight... a rehearsal?"

Arthur did not answer, but smiled slightly and raised his cane to tap the stage below.

Below the stage outside the box railings, a dozen musicians dressed in black tuxedos had already taken their seats. The timpani were being adjusted, the violin section was tuning, and the brass section stood in a row. The thin, disheveled conductor was looking down at the sheet music, muttering something, seemingly confirming the rhythmic division of a certain note with the harpist next to him.

“It’s a rehearsal,” Arthur said softly, “but not an ordinary rehearsal.”

He turned his head and looked into Albert's eyes: "Your Highness, I remember you enjoy studying music?"

Albert replied modestly, "I'm a hobbyist, but compared to you, I'm definitely far inferior. Today is..."

Before he could finish speaking, the conductor swung his baton sharply.

The next moment, the music started.

It wasn't just any music; it was the kind of brass overture that, from the moment it started, seemed to lift the roof off.

The drumbeats, though not hurried, possess a magnificent rhythm reminiscent of warhorses galloping side by side. The double bass provides a steady foundation, like an echo of history's sediment. And upon that, a horn rises, like a cannon salute, piercing the London twilight and striking straight to the heart. Then, trumpets and French horns enter in staggered fashion, with oboes embroidered in like stitches, yet not overshadowing the main melody.

Albert's pupils contracted slightly, and he couldn't help but straighten his back, his eyes fixed on the stage below.

He turned sharply to look at Arthur, his face filled with unspeakable shock: "Sir Arthur, what is this?"

Seeing this, Arthur smiled slightly. He leaned against the railing, took off his hat, and bowed slightly, saying, "Your Highness, this is a piece of music that we composed together. Please never forget this."

(End of this chapter)