Chapter 1548: Chapter 2: Royal Family Strife (Part 2)
Disraeli raised his cane and pointed to a portrait hanging opposite, saying, “Luckily, it wasn’t this gentleman who appeared on the platter.”
Everyone turned to look, and it was indeed a portrait of King George IV. Though the artist had tried hard to conceal the pleasure-seeking king’s belly, it was still easy to see from the strained shirt buttons that Britain’s forr supre ruler hadn’t managed his figure well.
Arthur couldn’t help but scoff, “Since the portrait is hanging here, it seems the previous rumors about His Majesty the King were not entirely fabricated.”
As they entered the private room, the warmth from the burning fireplace enveloped them instantly. The firelight flickered, complenting the crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
In the room was a long table covered with a deep red linen tablecloth, the candle flas flickered slightly, and exquisite silverware and crystal goblets were neatly arranged.
They had just taken off their coats and settled down when the waiter began serving appetizers: ga pie, pickled shrimp, foie gras, and freshly baked rye bread.
Disraeli raised his glass first, a hint of uncovered amusent in his eyes: “Then, let us raise a glass to the only man in this room who has ‘died once,’ Sir Arthur Hastings!”
Arthur was resting his cane by the side of his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on his silver goblet as he raised an eyebrow and looked at him without comnt.
“Three days.” Disraeli swirled the red wine in his glass. “You know, in our Christian-believing nation, three days is quite a symbolic period. Of course, since the Archbishop of Canterbury has already made a statent, I can’t say you went to et Saint George during those three days.”
Dickens nearly spat out his wine, imdiately putting down his goblet and covering his mouth to stifle laughter, while Tennyson partially covered his face with his hand, a rare teasing gleam in his eyes.
If it was a few years ago, Arthur might have felt embarrassed by such teasing, but by now he was used to it: “Luckily, you only suspected I went to et Saint George. If you suspected I went to et King George IV, then the one in haste to summon this afternoon wouldn’t be Viscount Palrston, but rather Baron Motley, the Lord Chamberlain, and Baron Willoughby Dresby, the Chancellor of Rites.”
Disraeli smiled at this and said, “What would it matter if you did see him? He wasn’t able to strip Princess Victoria of her inheritance while alive; how could he be more effective in death?”
“Strip her of her inheritance?”
As Disraeli said this, even Dickens and Tennyson put down their knives and forks, all eyes turning to him: “Benjamin, have you heard so royal secret?”
As everyone’s eyes focused on Disraeli, the Jewish young man’s penchant for drama took over.
His tone suggested he was discussing a banal matter: “Nothing much, I just heard an amusing tale from Mr. Beau Brumll.”
Everyone knew Beau Brumll served as the Royal Fashion Consultant during the ti of George IV and that the famous London playboy was close with Disraeli, the recently acclaid fashionista.
Though Disraeli kept insisting he only knew so rumors, everyone understood that any royal secrets from Brumll’s lips were ninety-nine percent reliable.
Under the group’s persistent demands, Disraeli finally relented: “It’s really not a big deal. I heard that when Princess Victoria was just born, her father, the Duke of Kent, consulted a fortune teller, and the Gypsy Witch said: This child is destined to be a queen. The Duke not only believed in this prophecy himself but also told many others about it.
The Duke originally planned to na his daughter Elizabeth, but on the naming day, George IV, who was then the Regent King, unexpectedly announced he would attend his niece’s christening ceremony. According to tradition, royal family mber’s nas typically require the reigning monarch or regent’s approval. So, when the Archbishop of Canterbury asked the Regent King during the ceremony what na to baptize the child with, the Regent’s response was: Alexandrina.”
Dickens pondered aloud: “Well… although the na isn’t very English, considering the Princess’ godfather was Tsar Alexander I, it makes sense from a commorative standpoint.”
Disraeli sneered: “It would be nice if that were the case. Because the Duke of Kent imdiately asked if he could add another na to his daughter, like Alexandrina Georgina, or Alexandrina Elizabeth. The Regent King maintained a stony silence for a long ti before finally declaring: ‘Then let’s use her mother’s na, Victoria, but her na must start with Alexandrina!’ ”
At this point, even the dimst fellow grasped that George IV likely didn’t care much for his little niece.
The Duke of Kent wished to na his daughter Georgina or Elizabeth because those nas easily evoked famous English monarchs. Yet George IV insisted on Alexandrina, clearly hoping to emphasize the foreign elents associated with his niece.
On the surface, it was rely a christening ceremony, but in reality, it was a royal struggle over the throne and public favor.
Dickens shook his head repeatedly: “I always knew there was bad blood between George IV and his brothers, but I never imagined it ran this deep.”
Disraeli added with relish, “It’s more than just bad blood. Since he had no legitimate heirs, each ti he heard his brothers had legitimate children, he’d sulk for days. And, Charles, don’t assu the Duke of Kent’s side was purely victims. Years ago, before His Majesty ascended to the throne, didn’t Queen Adelaide give birth to four children?”
“But didn’t all four children die young?”
“Indeed, they did die young.” Disraeli snorted: “Do you know how the Duchess of Kent reacted upon hearing of the children’s deaths? She was positively gleeful! Originally, Queen Adelaide would often visit her at Kensington Palace after the Duke of Kent passed away, but after losing her children, the Duchess could actually laugh at her sister-in-law’s tragedy.”
Dickens was startles, his hairs standing on end: “Are the family relations within the royal family really that dire?”
Tennyson also comnted, rather indignantly: “I used to have a decent impression of her. Everyone said she was different from other royal mbers, but from what you’re saying, her behavior was utterly appalling. No wonder His Majesty dislikes her so much… I used to think he was just an unprincipled old bully of widows.”
Arthur had t King William IV several tis, and he recalled: “I can’t claim His Majesty was an elegant person; regardless of whether he was speaking English or French, his accent had a heavy Hanoverian tinge, and he often had ‘that’s another story’ on his lips. If you only knew him slightly, you might think he was a rather coarse nobleman, but if you knew his preferences, you’d find him a sincere and generous elder. I rember the Duke of Wellington once telling , back when His Majesty served in Arica, General Nelson spoke highly of him. He participated in the Battle of Cape St. Vincent and avoided any special treatnt on the ship, didn’t even bring a cook, eating als he cooked himself.”
Disraeli also chid in: “I heard that when North Arica was fighting for independence, did George Washington consider kidnapping him?”
Arthur scratched his chin: “Not exactly kidnapping, at least that’s not how the Aricans viewed it. Washington Irving told that George Washington’s exact words were: Obviously, freeing Prince William and Dig would shock the British command imnsely. I authorize you to do whatever it takes to complete this mission, adapting as necessary. Moreover, I’m sure I needn’t remind you to refrain from personally insulting or harming the Prince.”
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