Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 486 Private Visit (Part Two)

Not just anyone can sit in the parliamentary gallery; it requires a recommendation from a highly respected member of parliament or cabinet member.

Amir sat in the gallery of the House of Commons, the gaslight casting a dim, yellowish glow through the swirling cigar smoke. Prime Minister Russell stood before the oak podium, the parchment rustling as he swung his documents vigorously. Earl Derby leaned back on a scarlet bench, his gold-rimmed monocle chain swaying slightly with his mocking chuckle.

Speaker of the House of Commons John Evelyn Denison said: "Today's agenda is the second reading debate of the People's Representative Bill. I would like to ask His Excellency the Prime Minister to speak."

"Honorable members of parliament, while the machinery of the empire roars in every corner of the world, we are depriving the hardest working class of their voice at home! Last year, Manchester cotton mill workers worked fourteen hours a day and created 30% of the total export wealth—and how many of them actually got to go to the polls?"
Therefore, this bill lowers the property threshold for urban voters to seven pounds and for rural voters to five pounds…

Boos came from the back row of the Tory party, and the speaker had to speak up to maintain order.

"Silence! Silence! Please allow the Prime Minister to finish speaking!"

Prime Minister Russell stood on the podium again. "Ladies and gentlemen, we need this bill. It is a great opportunity for the Empire to achieve lasting prosperity, just like the Imperial Navy, which forges ahead fearlessly. I hope everyone will support this proposal. Thank you."

Opposition leader Earl Derby stood up, his fingertips tracing the malachite cufflinks.

"Has Your Excellency considered the consequences of your heartfelt speech? Your mercy will cause the electoral roll to swell by millions in an instant—how many of them are illiterate refugees who have just fled the Irish famine? How many are traitors to the Empire?"

The traitor the Earl of Derby was referring to was the Chartist movement that began in 1838. Trade unions held a meeting near Westminster Palace and petitioned Parliament for reforms, but the Conservative and Liberal parties jointly rejected the petition in June. Radicals then organized a riot after the petition was rejected.

In November 1839, a bloody battle broke out between government soldiers and demonstrators at the Melontown Hotel in Newport, Monmouthshire, South Wales. They exchanged fire, resulting in at least fifty wounded and more than twenty dead. A petition to Parliament was submitted again in 1842, but it was rejected, as Parliament feared the destruction of private property rights and the economic structure.

Following the February Revolution in France in 1848, labor unions mobilized 4 people to take to the streets on April 10th. Parliament was alarmed and granted the Duke of Wellington the power to command the army and police to defend the capital. However, a sudden downpour on the day of the march reduced the number of participants to only one-tenth. The march was stopped, and the petition to Parliament, supposedly signed by six million people, had less than half the signatures, with some even being fabricated. The civil rights movement thus came to an end.

Thunderous applause erupted from the Tory seats. The Earl of Derby's question stirred a commotion in the chamber. Amir, in the gallery, received a charred wooden plank from someone else. A man nearby explained that it was a 'gift' left behind by the rioters when they smashed the customs house; it clearly stated 'Equal Division of Property!'

Liberal MP Andrew stood up abruptly, the hem of his long black suit billowing in the air with his sudden movement: "Sir Derby, please explain why your constituency, Devonshire, has the highest miner mortality rate in the country, yet you remain in this parliament? And those workers who risk their lives underground every day don't even have a say in safety regulations?"

Chancellor of the Exchequer Gladstone adjusted his slipped monocle and calmly entered the debate: “Let me provide some data.” He unfolded a blue book, the pages rustling in his hands. “According to records from the Manchester Revenue Authority, 68% of the potential voters involved in this expansion have paid the Poor Tax for five consecutive years—these hardworking Britons have every right to question where their tax money went!”

A young Tory MP suddenly stood up from the back row, his voice trembling slightly with emotion: "What about the Irish sharecroppers? By that standard, even the beggars in the Dublin slums who can't speak English can vote! Are we entrusting the fate of our country to these people?"

Amir noticed that the Earl of Derby was speaking in hushed tones with the Marquess of Salisbury beside him, their expressions growing increasingly serious. As the debate continued late into the night and the gaslights began to dim, the atmosphere in the parliamentary chamber grew increasingly tense. Tories in the back row repeatedly shouted "Absurd!" while Liberal radicals responded with accusations of "reactionaries!"

He hadn't expected the debate to take so long; more than ten hours had already passed. These people were really energetic.

At 2:40 a.m., as the House of Commons bells tolled dully, Speaker John Evelyn Dennison announced the start of the final vote. Weary members of parliament dragged their heavy steps toward the polling station; some had loose bow ties, others had sunken eyes. The Earl of Derby was seen whispering something to several undecided members in the final moments before the vote.

When the vote count was finished, the Speaker announced the results: "287 votes in favor, 312 votes against. The People's Representatives Bill has failed to pass its second reading." A sigh of disappointment erupted from the Liberal seats, while the Conservatives shook hands restrainedly. Prime Minister Russell stood there, pale-faced, the parchment document in his hand falling limply to his side.

As Amir emerged from the Houses of Parliament, the first light of dawn was already enveloping London. He overheard two journalists arguing heatedly on the steps: "The Tories have won this time, but can they stop the tide forever?" The other replied, "Look at the anger in the Manchester industrial area; this is not the end, just the beginning."

Back in the carriage at his lodgings, Amir opened his notebook and, by the morning light, wrote down his observations: “Today I witnessed a clash between two kinds of England—feudal privilege and modern rights. When the Earl of Derby brandished the Magna Carta, he forgot that it was itself a revolutionary document that limited royal power. History is always so ironic.”

(End of this chapter)