The Shadow of Great Britain

In Peel’s view, true talent should not be focused on studying how to garner votes.

However, Peel couldn’t help but laugh secretly when he saw the former High Chancellor Lord Lyndhurst caring for Disraeli so much, treating him as his favorite pupil.

After all, from some perspective, Disraeli’s friend Arthur is also a top student of another former High Chancellor, Lord Brougham.

What’s more amusing is that Lyndhurst and Brougham were extremely at odds with each other.

In the divorce case between George IV and Queen Caroline, Brougham appeared as the Queen’s defense lawyer, while Lyndhurst, the then Deputy Attorney General of Britain, opposed him as the King’s defense lawyer.

Both made a name for themselves through this case, laying the foundation for their future appointments as High Chancellor, but they also became rivals because of it.

In the nearly twenty years since, they’ve opposed each other on multiple topics such as the abolition of slavery, electoral system, and court reform.

And after entering the House of Lords, their nobility didn’t improve their manners much; their fierce debates with sharp words and mutual disdain almost became a norm.

Especially during the Parliamentary Reform in 1832, Brougham passionately defended the necessity and legality of the reform in the House of Lords, whereas Lyndhurst, equally adept at legal procedures, adopted technical opposition strategies in the House of Lords, such as vetoing in sections and delaying speeches to obstruct the passage of the Reform Bill.

Brougham loved to slam the table, so Lyndhurst mimicked him slamming the table.

Lyndhurst liked pushing his glasses up on his nose, so Brougham mimicked him doing it sarcastically.

Privately, Brougham often cursed Lyndhurst as ”a snake in the judge’s black robe,” ”a lapdog of Downing Street,” while Lyndhurst mocked Brougham at banquets saying, ”even without the judge’s black robe, he still looks like a clown on stage.”

In summary, how should I put it...

Their relationship is quite complicated.

Because after Brougham fell out of favor in the Whig Party and stepped down as High Chancellor, many of his political enemies took the opportunity to hint in newspapers that Brougham had abused his power and intervened in judicial justice. At the time, everyone thought Lyndhurst might seize the chance to add insult to injury, giving his old rival a kick.

To everyone’s surprise, when Lyndhurst saw someone attacking Brougham in the House of Lords over this, he actually stood up coldly to defend Brougham, saying: ”These judgments have no basis, debates in the House of Lords should not chase shadows.”

However, Brougham seemed indifferent to the old adversary’s defense.

He was so angry at the time, saying Lyndhurst was hypocritical and cunning, secretly manipulating everything, yet pretending to be the good guy.

Of course, whether Lyndhurst actually fanned the flames behind those attacks on Brougham, besides the involved parties, probably no one knows.

But if Lyndhurst was genuinely speaking well of Brougham, it’s hard not to imagine whether it was a mutual appreciation between old opponents, or if his private secretary Disraeli perhaps whispered ”pillow talk” to Lyndhurst due to his friend Arthur.

Peel, thinking of this, suddenly looked up and asked, ”Speaking of which... John, the thing I asked you to convey a few days ago... Is there any reply from Disraeli?”

Lyndhurst was flicking ash from his cigar with his fingertips; he heard Peel’s question, raised an eyebrow, as if he’d anticipated he would ask this.

”I’ve passed on the message, but he hasn’t replied yet. That lad suddenly ran off mysteriously to Oxfordshire last week, saying he was attending Sir Francis Sykes’ Christian charity banquet, he might not be back for a couple of days.”

Peel frowned slightly: ”So, he hasn’t visited Arthur yet?”

Lyndhurst shrugged: ”All I can say is, he promised he would test the waters, but how he plans to do it will depend on what that occasionally bright, occasionally smoking brain of his comes up with...”

He hadn’t finished speaking when the door of the Carlton Club was pushed open with a bang.

A young figure eagerly stepped in, followed quickly by the sound of boots striking the floor in the hallway, approaching like drumbeats.

The attendant at the door just tried to stop him, but was intimidated by that eager yet confident face.

Disraeli, while taking off his gloves, raised his voice and said: ”Guess who’s back?”

Before the words had fully left his mouth, the heavy reading room door of the Carlton Club was pushed open with a clatter by him: ”I just got back from Bromley, almost got kicked in the chin by the post horse, but...”

Disraeli hadn’t finished speaking before he sensed something off in the reading room’s air.

The mischievous and excited smile hadn’t yet spread across his face completely, before it froze totally in the next second.

His gaze drifted past the sherry cabinet by the door, swept across the carpet, fireplace, finally fixed on those several faces so familiar they couldn’t be more familiar, yet seldom collectively appeared in the same room.

The Duke of Wellington, Sir Peel, Lord Stanley, Earl of Aberdeen, Earl of Lyndhurst, Earl of Ellenborough, Mr. Henry Goulburn...

Two former Prime Ministers, a former Postmaster General, a former Foreign Secretary and Colonial Minister, a former High Chancellor, a former India Affairs Committee Chairman, a former Chancellor of the Exchequer and Home Secretary...

The least significant person here was probably the Party Secretary and Election Committee Head Francis Bonham, but even such a guy can decide how much money to allocate for Disraeli’s campaigning in the next election.

The room’s air seemed to be sucked out in an instant.

Disraeli could almost hear the sound of his own swallowing.

He clearly had prepared a set of exaggerated opening remarks, playful metaphors, and even rhyming phrases that might come in handy, but at this moment, all these golden ideas seemed to have flown out of his skull like ravens.

Disraeli finally realized what kind of occasion he had barged into, like a street vendor accidentally straying into the Royal Palace; his steps froze for a moment, trying to lean left towards the liquor cabinet, as if standing with the cabinet could make himself, the former Foreign Office Vice Minister, seem not so out of place.

”Uh... Your Excellencies... I’m not...” Disraeli lifted his hat, stuttered and slightly bowed to the crowd: ”I... I’m here to find Lord Lyndhurst.”

Lyndhurst looked at him, suddenly grinned: ”Didn’t you say you didn’t have time to return my message? How come the message hasn’t arrived, yet you sent yourself first?”

”I... was planning to write a letter.” Disraeli chuckled heartily: ”But I thought, since I already know Arthur’s attitude, I’d report back sooner, so as not to trouble Your Excellencies...”