The Shadow of Great Britain

On the flat streets of Whitehall, a black carriage traveled at a leisurely pace.

A middle-aged gentleman sat inside, flipping through a stack of documents in his hands.

Lady Peel was seated opposite him.

She said with a smile, "Oh! My dear, I really didn't expect that you would have time to come see me attend court today. Aren't you usually at the official residence working at this time?"

The middle-aged gentleman, or perhaps it's better to call him Sir Peel now.

He rubbed his sore temples and responded to his wife with a smile.

"How can official documents at the residence compare to your beautiful visage? If I had a choice, I would rather sit here and watch you all day long."

Lady Peel's cheeks turned red, she felt a bit shy, but the laughter at the corner of her eyes couldn't be hidden.

"Robert, we are an old married couple, there's no need for such flattery with me. You say on one hand the documents aren't pleasant to look at, but what is that thing you're holding in your hand?"

"This?" Sir Peel lifted the document in his hand: "The personal file of Officer Arthur Hastings."

Lady Peel also took an interest upon hearing this name: "Have you noticed that exceptionally talented young officer as well?"

"His performance today was just too dazzling. Unless I were blind, it would be difficult not to notice him. Did you not find that he bears a resemblance to another Arthur we know, strikingly so?"

Lady Peel thought for a moment: "I suppose you mean the Duke of Wellington, Arthur Wellesley? Oh my dear, you must be confused.

Although the Duke is indeed a gentleman of integrity and justice, he couldn't be as gentle and refined as Officer Arthur.

If the Duke were in Officer Arthur's place today, then before the court even convened, he would have given the magistrate a lashing or two."

"Ha ha, my dear, that's because you don't understand him well enough.

The Duke of Wellington isn't always so quick-tempered, he is only so when in the presence of His Majesty the King.

He emphasized to me countless times the principle by which he makes friends; he can tolerate a person being foolish, he can tolerate a person being bad, but he cannot tolerate someone who is both."

Lady Peel almost burst into laughter upon hearing this, she wanted to laugh out loud but felt it would be impolite, so she had to cover her mouth with a handkerchief instead.

"Does His Majesty the King know that you Cabinet members talk about him like this behind his back?"

Sir Peel playfully raised an eyebrow: "The comments I just made were separate and unrelated. My lady, there's nothing concerning His Majesty the King at all."

"Robert, you do have a wicked mind." Lady Peel laughed so hard her shoulders shook: "Alright, then tell me about the similarities between the Duke of Wellington and Officer Arthur."

"Everyone knows how outstanding a commander the Duke of Wellington is, a born genius of war.

When the whole world believed that Napoleon would sweep across Europe, it was he who demonstrated in the Battle of Waterloo who truly deserved the title of 'Conqueror.'

From India to Iberia, then to France and the Netherlands, he was unstoppable, victorious in every battle.

Look at all his honors; he is not only the Marshal of the British Army, but also the Marshal of the armies of Russia, Austria, Prussia, Hanover, Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands.

Yet it is this man, born for war, who often complains to me, saying that the thing he hates most in life is war, and after each battle, he says it will be his last time on the battlefield.

But whenever the nation needs him, just a gentle push is all it takes, and he steps forward to stand on the front line of war amidst the gunfire."

Lady Peel thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you think Officer Arthur is also that kind of person?"

"Of course." Sir Peel smiled and nodded: "And what I need to do now is just give him that gentle nudge."

Lady Peel agreed, "I also think Scotland Yard cannot lose such an outstanding officer; it would be irresponsible to the public. But hasn't he decided to leave already? How do you plan to push him?"

Sir Peel pulled aside the curtain of the carriage and pointed to the scenery outside, "My dear, haven't you noticed this is not the way home?"

Lady Peel looked outside, the building in view had a brick red exterior and a green dome, four stories tall.

"The Navy Department building? What are we doing here?"

Sir Peel said with a smile, "Officer Arthur just told me that he plans to seek a higher position in the Royal Navy.

But I think the Royal Navy already has plenty of talent, it certainly doesn't lack just one.

More importantly, as the Home Secretary overseeing Scotland Yard, I have no intention of letting my most outstanding officer go."

So, I made a special trip to talk to a few old friends from the Navy Department.

My lady, you wouldn't mind if I join them for a small drink later, would you?"

"Oh! Robert!" Mrs. Peel seemed somewhat angry. "You still have to work this afternoon."

But Sir Robert Peel had a ready solution: "I've already finished my work for today. The only person still busy in the Cabinet is the Duke of Wellington, who's off to Windsor Castle to see His Majesty the King."

"The Duke of Wellington, what's he going to Windsor Castle for?"

Sir Robert shrugged, "Certainly not to duel with His Majesty. Hmm... probably not."

...

At this moment, outside the audience hall of Windsor Castle.

The Duke of Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, strode down the steps with no intention of looking back.

Behind him, an angry, roaring old man followed in pursuit.

His upper garments were extravagantly luxurious, with a deep red cape edged in gold, and a silver-grey coat adorned with wheat tassel fringe, clearly of great value.

Strangely, though, the old man was wearing only knee-length breeches below.

It was clear that the old man had chased in such a hurry that he didn't even have time to put on a full set of formal attire.

He bellowed at the Duke of Wellington, "Wellington! Stop at once!"

The Duke of Wellington did stop obediently, but he still did not turn around.

His voice was as cold as the north wind in December, "Your Majesty, is there something else?"

The old man was none other than King George IV, the fourth monarch of the House of Hanover in Britain.

George IV's eyes widened, and with a shaking hand, he berated, "What did you mean by those documents you just handed me?"

"It means exactly what it says, if you cannot understand it. I can give you a simple recap," the Duke replied.

He turned around, stood on the steps, and said facing up to the king, "Parliament and the Cabinet have been arguing over Catholic emancipation for more than a decade, and it is with great difficulty that they have finally come to a consensus, hence this 'Catholic Emancipation Act' that everyone has agreed to.

It is a hard-won document, and I do not intend to go back to Parliament or the Cabinet to redraft it because that will inevitably lead to endless bickering again.

So, you now have two choices.

Either you accept the draft of the 'Catholic Emancipation Act' that I just presented, and assure the House of Commons and the Cabinet here that you will not use your influence among the nobility in the House of Lords to obstruct its passage.

Or, you can also choose to accept my resignation along with that of the other fourteen members of the Cabinet, and select a new majority party member you trust to form the government.

Or if it pleases you, call for a new election. After all, whoever wants to clean up this mess is welcome to do so, but I certainly will not touch it again."

Upon hearing this, George IV was so angry that even his voice trembled, "Wellington, you, you!"

But Wellington clearly didn't care about the King's attitude, continuing, "If you still regard yourself as the legitimate sovereign of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, then approve the bill.

I must explain here that although I, like you, am a devout Protestant, the issue of emancipation for the other branches of Catholicism can no longer be postponed.

The Kingdom is on the brink of civil war, and I have received reliable information that a large-scale rebellion will erupt in Ireland if the bill is rejected.

Therefore, I must also remind you once again that if a rebellion breaks out in Ireland, I will not accept your invitation to serve as the Commander of the Army.

As for how to choose, that is your prerogative, Your Majesty."

With that, the Duke of Wellington swept his cloak and strode away.

Furious, George IV shouted at his departing figure, "Wellington, you! You dare to be so bold against me!!!"

Attendants quickly stepped forward to support the old King from falling down the steps, trying to calm him.

"Your Majesty, please let it be. Since he was not afraid of Napoleon, don't expect him to be scared of you."

"I... I... Ah!!!" George IV blacked out and collapsed to the ground.

"Your Majesty? Your Majesty!" The attendants shook the King's body, and upon finding no response, they panicked: "Quick, call for a doctor!"