The Shadow of Great Britain

We must thank God for sending us these rebels.

——Shakespeare, ”Henry IV,” Act 1, Scene 3

The cold wind on St. James Street swept past Brooks Club, as carriage after carriage arrived from the direction of White Hall, stopping in front of the club, the most central and traditional club of the Whig Party, with horse hooves striking an anxious rhythm on the cobblestones.

In the porch, the attendants of Brooks Club dared not speak loudly, bowing their heads in greeting.

No one expected so many prominent figures to gather at the club tonight.

The curtains in the Great Assembly Hall on the second floor of the club were tightly closed, and the thick velvet curtains blocked all street noise, leaving only the crackling of the fireplace flames.

Several old-fashioned portraits of Whig leaders hung on the walls, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Baron Summers, Earl of Halifax...these political giants who once led the Whig Party through reforms, battles, and victories seemed to overlook their successors in the room from within their frames.

”Portrait of Anthony Ashley Cooper, 1st Earl of Shaftesbury” painted by English artist John Greenhill in 1672

(One of the founders of the Whig Party, main proponent of the Exclusion Bill)

”Portrait of John Summers, 1st Baron Summers” painted by English artist Godfrey Kneller in 1705

(Father of Whig constitutionalism, co-drafter of the Bill of Rights)

”Portrait of Charles Montagu, 1st Earl of Halifax” painted by Swedish artist Michael Dahl in the late 17th century

(Pioneer of the Whig fiscal faction, key architect of the Bank of England and the modern British national debt system, former President of the Royal Society, main patron of Sir Isaac Newton)

The atmosphere in the Great Assembly Hall felt peculiar, with nearly everyone who came to attend the meeting wearing a somber expression—it hardly resembled what the atmosphere of a governing party’s meeting should be, but rather more like...a group of patients about to receive a death notice from a doctor.

Charles Grant, Minister of War and Colonization, sat at the side of the long table, fingers tapping unconsciously on the armrest. He was originally chatty by nature, yet tonight it seemed as if his throat was clamped, not only refraining from the usual chatting with colleagues but also constantly adjusting his collar, as if the suit he had worn countless times suddenly became too tight.

Sitting opposite him, the Naval Minister, Earl of Minto, looked equally troubled, after all, he was the first in the cabinet to learn of Canada’s state of war, and just one day later, news of the Canadian Colony’s rebellion was making the rounds in the city. Should Viscount Melbourne, the Prime Minister, decide to investigate the source of the leak, he would certainly be the primary suspect. Even if he was not the leaker, as the person with primary responsibility, Earl Minto could not escape blame either.

Spring Rice sat near the fireplace, but unlike his colleagues, the emotions brought by the Canadian rebellion to this 47-year-old Chancellor of the Exchequer were not of anger, but of anxiety. Since taking office in 1835, the poor harvest and the North American economic depression had already brought huge fiscal deficits to the government. The Church Tax Bill he proposed last year unsurprisingly died a quick death, even efforts to revise Ireland Bank’s charter ended in humiliation.

As the saying goes, fortunes do not come twice, but disasters never come alone. Now, not a single revenue-enhancing measure of the Treasury has been achieved, while they have also come upon the Canadian Colony rebellion.

At the thought of the soon-to-be massive military expenditure required to suppress the Canadian rebellion, and the inevitably hugely affected Canadian tax revenue, Rice couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Among those present, perhaps only the Foreign Secretary, Palmerston, felt the most relaxed, after all, the mess in Canada had nothing to do with the Foreign Office, which was concerned only with affairs in France, Spain, Portugal, and the East.

As for North America? Diplomatic relations with the U.S. have always been second-tier affairs within the Foreign Office, with very low priority.

Regarding the Canadian rebellion, Palmerston’s basic attitude was also very simple; he did not like the Radical Party, nor did he like the concept of a responsible government. However, this did not mean he did not support simple violent suppression, because such violent suppression would position the free Britain alongside autocratic countries like Russia and Prussia in the eyes of other nations.

Home Secretary Lord John Russell didn’t even have time to change out of the dark suit he wore while responding to inquiries in the Lower House. Upon entering, he headed straight for the high-backed chair by the fireplace, said not a word, and harshly leaned his cane against the table.

When he looked up, all eyes turned to him: ”Gentlemen...”

Palmerston glanced around: ”Is the Prime Minister not coming today?”

Russell’s voice unexpectedly hoarse: ”The Prime Minister is at Buckingham Palace, Her Majesty the Queen has required him to report on Canada’s current situation in person. Before his departure, he entrusted me to preside over today’s meeting on his behalf.”

As soon as Russell finished speaking, most people in the assembly hall could not help but sit up straight.

Palmerston tutted softly: ”Her Majesty the Queen has only been on the throne for six months, and already she is forced to show concern for colonial affairs; this is surely not a good omen.”

Minister of the Colonies Grant frowned; he despised Palmerston’s backseat driving tone: ”Henry, if the Foreign Office is willing to assist us in communicating with the United States, ensuring they do not intervene in the Canadian rebellion, then perhaps I could be a bit more relieved.”

Palmerston, seeing that Grant not only did not reflect but still had the mood to accuse him, could not help but let out a cold snort: ”The United States? Though I cannot conceive of what motivation they would have to wade into these murky waters. But, dear Lord Grennell, the trouble we make ourselves, others are not obliged to help share.”