Every year, roughly two to three hundred cadets enter service in the Royal Navy, of which only about a quarter can pass the Navy Departnt exam and beco officers after a six-year internship period, and among them, only about eight percent beco captains, while only two percent are promoted to general officers.
This ans that, even if you do have backing, in the Royal Navy, you must achieve results that match your status and rank if you wish to be promoted.
Today at the docks, there are two ready examples: Colonel Robert Fitzroy, captain of the Beagle, a distant nephew of the Duke of Grafton, and Mr. Eld Carter, a descendant of the Carter family, a prominent Irish family, who was recently transferred as Assistant Director of the Navy Supply Affairs Bureau, nephew of Major General John Carter, and cartographer on the Beagle.
Even though these two young Royal Navy servicen co from distinguished backgrounds, they still grit their teeth and completed the arduous five-year global scientific expedition on the Beagle. While there were often jokes about Mr. Carter’s easygoing personality from those who were envious, it must be admitted that compared to the army officers who rarely endure hardship, Eld stands out as truly noble and virtuous.
This makes the group even more disdainful of the Duke of Cumberland, who was promoted to General of the Army relying on his royal identity.
Not to ntion that during the war, the Duke of Cumberland had more than once argued with Navy Marshal Lord Balem and the Navy Finance Committee, coupled with his inherent army-first attitude...
In summary: if Cumberland ascends the throne, they do not believe he will treat the Royal Navy kindly.
With this in mind, the ivory folding fan in the hands of the Duchess of Kent slowly closed within her palm.
"Please notify the band to prepare for ’Rule, Britannia!’."
Conroy, who was accompanying the Duchess, was taken aback at first, but he quickly understood the Duchess’s intention.
This was not only about winning the hearts of the Royal Navy, but also a great opportunity to showcase how Princess Victoria differs greatly from the Duke of Cumberland.
"Understood, Your Highness."
Soon, a deep brass horn sounded at the dock, followed by orderly trumpet echoes.
When the final note of the brass instrunt resonated in the damp sea breeze, the trumpet sound pierced across the entire dock like a morning bell and evening drum; not only were the sailors on the deck of the Beagle affected, but even those on nearby ships, who were originally sorting ropes and cleaning masts, paused in unison. Many of them are old sailors who took to rchant ships after the Napoleonic Wars ended.
Many humd the rhythm along with this Royal Navy song.
"When Great Britain carries out Heaven’s mandate,
Leading the rise from the blue oceans,
Rise, rise, rise,
Rising from the blue oceans!"
As the lody of ’Rule, Britannia!’ soared, the dock felt instantly awakened by so ancient spirit.
Sailors standing on the deck of the Beagle instinctively straightened their backs; so raised their hands to solemnly place their hats against their chests, while others choked on emotions, seemingly recalling their five years of hardships.
They sang those words together with almost breaking voices: "Among nations, you are most sacred; it is your mission to eliminate despotism, expel tyrants! Mission, mission, mission, holy mission! Prosperity is with you, greatness and freedom accompany you, fear and envy are the feelings of foreign peoples..."
The singing was not in unison, so might even be considered hoarse and unpleasant, but when all voices rged together, they accumulated a stirring force.
Even Eld, who normally is indifferent, was moved by the atmosphere, shedding tears uncontrollably. At so point, this lad put down the bouquet and gently smoothed his lapel with his calloused fingers before turning towards Victoria, staggering and then half-kneeling.
He cried while his singing continued: "Rule, Britannia! Britannia stands firm, Britons never will be slaves!"
Soon, another sailor knelt down. Then a third, a fourth...
In the end, nearly all the figures on the deck knelt toward Victoria’s direction.
This sentint quickly spread like wildfire to nearby ships, where almost all sailors cheered, removed their hats, and saluted Victoria.
Victoria was completely taken aback by this scene.
The day’s experience was even more shocking than the one in St Martin’s Church, as unlike last ti when Arthur had inford her beforehand, she had neither given orders nor made speeches, yet this spontaneous action by over a hundred sailors made her emotions churn repeatedly in an instant.
She suddenly felt sowhat guilty, so guilty that she could hardly lift her head to look at the bouquet that had fallen to the ground.
Victoria’s cheeks flushed red, and her chin, which had been proudly raised in anger, unknowingly lowered a bit.
Her gaze shifted, slowly turning towards Arthur.
That man still stood to the rear-side, hands on the brim of his hat, with an expression neither sad nor happy, simply nodding lightly towards her: "Your Highness, when do you plan to summon the crew representatives of the Beagle next week? I can reschedule my class anyti if it conflicts with teaching."
Arthur spoke quite naturally, naturally as though everything had already been arranged.
Victoria understood Arthur’s intention; just as she worried whether her mother would agree to invite the Beagle’s crew to visit, she suddenly heard her mother’s voice from behind.
User Comments
0 comments from readers