Chapter 179: Parliamentary Farce

Chapter 178 The Parliamentary Farce
Wednesday, it was the day of the week that felt the most delicate.

It wasn’t as abhorrent as Monday, the first working day of the week, nor did it feel as anticipated as Friday or Saturday.

And for the Duke of Wellington and all the Tory members who were still supporting the Cabinet, it was likewise an incredibly delicate day.

For today there was a grand and special program scheduled in Parliament – Prime Minister’s Questions.

On the north bank of the Thames, around Trafalgar Square, the hands of the clock towers of Westminster Abbey and St. Margaret’s Church were simultaneously pointing to twelve o’clock noon.

The Palace of Westminster, home to the House of Lords and the House of Commons of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

In the south-west and north-west corners, two Gothic spires over 100 meters high rise into the sky, seeming to poke a hole in the gloomy sky, while below the two spires, there are also countless small sharp towers, which from a distance look like a group of line infantrymen marching with flintlock muskets on their shoulders dressed in bright yellow uniforms.

And in front of the dark entrance gate of the Palace of Westminster, the bright yellow facade stands countless black hollowed-out niches, which emits a faint light, the light will patrol the nearby sidewalks of the Royal Guard bright red uniforms illuminated.

Several dark black horse-drawn carriages arrived from Downing Street and Whitehall Street, converging in front of the Palace of Westminster and finally stopping in front of the crowded entrance gates.

As the carriage drove in, the original noisy crowd suddenly fell into a silence, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, with the carriage trotting ahead of the attendants in turn went forward to pull open the door of the carriage, a pair of hard riding boots from the carriage gradually stepped out.

The first to get out of the carriage was a gentleman wearing a dark gray tuxedo with a white shirt, he straightened his back and had a calm appearance, but the hint of sharpness flashing in his eyes could still make people feel that he was not a good person.

Although as a soldier, he didn’t like to show his face, there were still quite a few people in the crowd who recognized his identity.

Sir Edward Barnes, who had served as the British Army’s Director of Military Affairs at the Battle of Waterloo, General of the Army of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and who was about to take up his new post as Commander-in-Chief of the British Army in India.

Standing beside him was Rowland Hill, Viscount Almaraz, General of the Army, who had been commander of the British Second Army at the Battle of Waterloo and was currently Governor of Plymouth, Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

And at his side was a soft-looking man in black, but with an empty pair of pants, who could only advance on crutches.

That was the right-hand man of the Duke of Wellington at the Battle of Waterloo, the then Deputy Commander-in-Chief of the British Army and Commander-in-Chief of the Cavalry, the current Secretary of State for Ireland, and the Admiral of the Army of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland – Henry Paget, Marquis of Anglesey.

The three generals exchanged glances and then stood respectfully on either side of the road.

The overcast sky suddenly blew a gust of cold wind, obviously so morose weather, the audience present but vaguely feel the tip of their noses seem to linger a lingering smell of smoke.

A few drops of rain sprinkled on the brick road in front of the Palace of Westminster, the door was slowly pulled open by the valet, a high-topped riding boots slowly stretched out, heavy and forceful step on the rain-dyed brick road, the boots landed along with the sound of clanging, with such strength to step, as if the owner of the boots is not wanting to walk, but wanting to run the road bricks into the dirt.

A crimson attire of the Duke of Wellington leaning on his cane stepped out, he looked up at the crowd of spectators on both sides of the walkway, and was about to wave to them, but did not expect an angry accusation cut through the original tranquility in the air.

A lady in a white dress, accompanied by two manservants, who seemed to be in favor of the Whigs, opened her mouth and sneered, “Your Excellency the Duke, if my husband was as opposed to parliamentary reform as you are, then I would have poisoned his breakfast coffee.”

Just when the group thought that the Duke of Wellington, who has always been silent in public, would surely be silent again this time, who knows that this white-haired old man, who was once praised as a hero of Britannia, and today is ridiculed as having a rusty head, but looked that lady up and down, and then sneered back.

“Madam, if I were your husband, then even if I knew that the coffee was poisonous, I would not hesitate to drink it. With a wife like you, I don’t want to live a moment longer.”

At the end of his speech, the Duke of Wellington then leaned on his cane without changing his color, and stepped into the Palace of Westminster with several generals amidst the public’s shouting and cursing.

“Wellington, you will be Waterloo today!”

“Despotic tyrant, we were expecting you to be the next George Monk, yet you want to be the next Cromwell!”

“The presence of a man like you in the position of Prime Minister is the greatest dishonor to British democracy!”

However, the Duke of Wellington was oblivious to these shouts, he had already heard too much of this kind of itchy shouting these days. He even felt that these curses were far gentler than the mobs that attacked his mansion.

Although he was already an old man in his sixties, Duke Wellington’s pace was still brisk.

In the Palace of Westminster, a huge palace with more than a thousand rooms and a hundred staircases, the promenade running through the entire palace was three miles long.

Fortunately, the Duke of Wellington did not have to walk the entire length of it.

He was standing right in the center of the Palace of Westminster. To his right was the House of Peers, the seat of the House of Lords.

And to his left, the Hall of Commoners, representing the seat of the House of Commons.

Although the Duke of Wellington, as a nobleman, participated in politics in the House of Lords all year round, today, the Commoners’ Hall was his destination.

The Duke of Wellington’s cane was pestled on the palace’s ornate and intricate patterned floor, and only a thumping sound could be heard gradually coming from near and far.

The halls of the House of Commons were getting closer and closer, and after a brief period of dimness and silence, the clamor of the crowd shouting grew, and the light gradually became brighter and brighter before the Duke of Wellington’s eyes.

Though the chamber was not small, after cramming in 658 members of the House of Commons and the many members of the House of Lords who had come to take part in the questioning, it still made the hall, which boasted just over four hundred green seats, seem crowded.

The Tory and Whig MPs were clearly divided into two camps, with the Speaker’s seat and the table as the dividing line, with Whig supporters seated on the left and the ruling Tories on the right.

Although the questioning had not yet begun, the smell of gunpowder in the air was already quite strong, and from the ugly faces of the Home Secretary, Lord Peel, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Goulburn, and the Foreign Secretary, the Earl of Aberdeen, in the front row on the right, one could analyze the fact that the meeting of the House of Commons held this morning had not been going very well.

And when the Duke of Wellington appeared in the meeting, the already very agitated atmosphere was pushed to a new climax.

The Whig backbenchers even sent out a burst of ‘NAY’ (against) shouts at him, hoping to give him a head start before the questioning even began.

“John, give it up for our Honorable Prime Minister!”

“Didn’t you once go to St. Helena and meet Napoleon? Did he tell you how to defeat Wellington?”

“We will defeat you here!”

“Today, right here!”

And Tory members rose to their feet and chanted ‘YEA’ (support) for party leader the Duke of Wellington.

“Your Excellency Prime Minister, since you were able to lead Britain to defeat the French, there is no reason why you would lose to these Whig curmudgeons today.”

“John Russell, feel free to use any tricks you have!”

“If you can’t hold your own, why don’t you simply join your brother, the Duke of Bedford!”

“If that doesn’t work, why don’t you all just dig Napoleon out of the dirt again!”

The members of the two parties were in a war of words, and seeing that they were about to quarrel before the questioning began, the Speaker of the House, who was seated in the center of the members of the two parties, could only lift up his gavel and bang it repeatedly: “Silence! Silence! Silence!”

However, the members of Parliament were oblivious to the Speaker’s request.

Perhaps it was due to the heated debates of the morning that had cranked up the emotions of both groups, and the appearance of the Duke of Wellington was like a spark that completely ignited the dynamite barrel.

The backbenchers of both parties would not stop talking to anyone, and their war of words, even if the Speaker repeatedly demanded it, was just a useless endeavor.

A Tory member of parliament scolded to the emotional point, actually directly copied up the documents on the table toward the opposite side of the Whig party smashed over.

As he did so, he cursed, “Edward! You have to be glad that this is not the 14th century, if Edward II had not banned the wearing of swords and armor in the parliament building, I would have to take your head off and kick it as a ball today!”

The Whig councilor known as Edward was unfazed and sneered back, “Can’t you duel without weapons? Alex, in my opinion, your fists aren’t half as hard as your mouth!”

“You insolent man, it seems I must save you a lesson today!”

As soon as these words were said, the Tory backbencher named Alex couldn’t help but rush to the front row, waving his fists with the intention of finding the other party to fight it out.

Seeing this, the Speaker couldn’t help but slam the table with his gavel while growling, “I repeat, it is strictly forbidden for anyone to die in the Parliament! Guard Officer! Guard Officer! Throw these two insolent people out immediately!”

(End of chapter)