The Shadow of Great Britain

745: Chapter 356: The Greatest General’s Most Severe Test_3 745: Chapter 356: The Greatest General’s Most Severe Test_3 At the end of the day, it was his and Duke Wellington’s differing understanding of the position.

In the era when Duke Wellington came of age, the title of opposition leader was hardly a term of endearment, almost synonymous with troublemaker.

For his lordship, a staunch Royalist, supporting the King and upholding his authority was a duty innate to his being.

Perhaps at times the King’s behavior could be erratic, as with George IV, who was mockingly called “Europe’s finest comedian” by British nobility.

But when the King erred, Duke Wellington would never publicly criticize his policies and performance, preferring to point them out during private meetings, or, at most, make a quip at a banquet.

To ask such an old man, whose thinking was set in its ways, to accept the title of opposition leader was almost like a deliberate tarnishing of his honor.

Understanding this, Arthur finally grasped the Duke’s recent awkwardness.

No wonder he never criticized the Government in the newspaper like the Whig Party did; since stepping down as Prime Minister, news about him was almost exclusively reported tangentially.

Duke Wellington spoke, “My seat in Parliament allows me to express agreement when I support and dissent when I disagree.

But I absolutely won’t agree to become some leader of the opposition.”

My casting a dissenting vote is not because I’m obstructing so-called progress, but because I suspect there is a dreadful conspiracy behind it, much like the events in Britain during the Great Revolution in France.

I think the conspirators in this country are all Britons, yet their roots hail from Paris.

France has had its revolution, Belgium has had its revolution, Italy’s Carbonari insurrection and Poland’s Warsaw uprising have occurred, and now Portugal is also in turmoil.

French gold hurries those agitators to and fro.

I somewhat blame myself now; if I hadn’t lifted the bans on publications back then, allowing these media tools to incessantly sow chaos, perhaps things wouldn’t be as bad as they are now.”

He looked somewhat disheartened, “Have you seen what they say in the newspapers?

I assure you, the gentlemen currently in power have connections with the revolution behind closed doors.

They welcome everything from Paris and Brussels.

I once told His Majesty the King that if he could implement punishment from horseback, there would be no revolution.

It’s clear, though, despite his efforts, he can’t manage such an expert level of horsemanship.”

Arthur asked softly, “Do you suspect a problem with our Prime Minister, Earl Grey?”

“No, I don’t suspect Grey.

I’ve known him for a long time; he’s been like this for over twenty years,”

Wellington spoke with self-mockery, “Moreover, I’ve discovered that in this Cabinet, the Prime Minister’s authority over his followers is clearly less than that of a field commander over his troops.

And this trend has spread from the Whig to the Tory Party; aside from myself, everyone does as they please.

There is no commander in the party, or rather, everyone is a commander, but there are no troops.

Aside from myself, no one obeys me, nor does anyone even plan to listen to others.

Yet, if anything goes wrong, I must bear the responsibility.”

Arthur asked, “Sir Peel hasn’t supported you?”

“Peel…”

Duke Wellington paused, “He’s a capable man, a person of noble sentiments, but there’s a flaw in his character because he hasn’t been tempered by the military, so he can’t be as resolute as I am.

We’ve worked well together most of the time, but now his stance is somewhat fickle.

Being open to others’ opinions is his strength and his weakness.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but recall his conversation with Disraeli.

He remembered that Disraeli had made a similar assessment of Peel and, more importantly, the fashionably dressed youngster had boldly predicted: “I suspect Peel’s people might betray us in the next vote on parliamentary reform—his recent stance is too ambiguous, causing divisions within the party.”

Arthur didn’t care which side Sir Peel would take in the parliamentary reform, but he was concerned about the ramifications if the next vote passed in the House of Commons.

After some thought, Arthur boldly ventured, “Your grace, I’m not interested in politics, but as I’ve stated before, I’m worried about the recent instability in public order.

Some of it is due to cholera, some due to parliamentary reform.

Hence, I seek your advice, as an astute gentleman like you always has valuable guidance for the youth.”

“Advice?”

Duke Wellington looked at Arthur with a sincere face, not sure why the young man had suddenly raised such a query.

More importantly, it wasn’t two years ago anymore, and this Arthur Hastings was no longer the junior officer from Scotland Yard he had first met, but a man wielding considerable power as the number three at the Greater London Police Department.

Duke Wellington pondered for a moment, finally speaking slowly, “If you must seek advice from me, then my boy, I’ll pass on the creed of my life to you.

Whatever happens, do what you must.

You must live up to the honor bestowed upon you by this country and give back your full loyalty.

I’ve never been a policeman, but I believe that the sternest test for a great police Commander is maintaining order.”

Arthur nodded slightly, blinking and asking with a smile, “Then, what is the sternest test for a great general?”

Wellington uttered almost without thinking, as Lord Stanhope had asked him this very question not long ago while compiling documents on the Peninsular War.

“For a general, the sternest test is knowing when to retreat, and daring to do so.”

Duke Wellington had just finished speaking when he sensed something amiss.

He looked at Arthur for a while before raising his teacup to clink with his, “You sly young man.

I am not the media, so I do not tamper with my words.

But asking me to retreat now is rather premature.”