## Chapter 64: Wellington and Peel’s Calculation
**London, Westminster, Whitehall Street, Home Office of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.**
In the office of the Home Office, Sir Peel sat in his chair, holding a fresh copy of the *Times* newspaper. Next to him lay a wet copy of the *Manchester Guardian*, just delivered to the Home Office.
He carefully read every word on the newspaper, but the more he read, the more his hands trembled.
Finally, he slammed the newspaper on the table with a snap.
“Utterly ridiculous! These people will stop at nothing to force the cabinet to resign!”
His private secretary happened to push open the door at that moment, startled by the scene. He was stunned for a moment before remembering his mission.
“Sir, the Duke of Wellington has sent word. He wants to see you at 10 Downing Street.”
Before the secretary could finish, a wet head popped out from behind him. Sir Peel recognized the familiar face immediately. It was the Duke of Wellington’s personal messenger.
“Sir, the Duke of Wellington has sent me again to tell you that you don’t need to go to him. He’s coming here instead.”
As the messenger finished speaking, there was a hurried sound of boots on the floor in the hall outside the minister’s office. The Permanent Under-Secretary of State pushed past the two men in front of him, saying in a flustered tone.
“Sir, the Duke’s carriage is…”
This time, before he could finish, the Duke of Wellington’s angry voice rang out in the hall of the Home Office.
“Robert, have you seen today’s papers! Those treacherous bastards are insane! Why don’t they dare say these things to my face? According to informed sources, every newspaper is quoting informed sources! Do they think I won’t know who these informed sources are just because they hide the word ‘Tory’?”
The Duke of Wellington’s voice arrived almost simultaneously with him. He frowned at the messenger, private secretary, and Permanent Under-Secretary crowding at the office door, and reprimanded them with dissatisfaction. “Don’t you have anything better to do? What are you all crowding here for?”
The three men exchanged glances, all quickly defending themselves. “Your Grace, we were just here to deliver your orders.”
“Deliver my orders?”
The Duke of Wellington, clearly in a bad mood, sarcastically said, “I thought the Prussian reinforcements at the Battle of Waterloo were slow enough, but compared to the three of you, I think Marshal Blücher was quite active.”
The three men smiled awkwardly, then quickly stepped aside, inviting the Duke of Wellington in and gently closing the door behind him.
The Duke of Wellington, looking furious, pulled a chair and sat down in front of the desk.
Sir Peel, seeing his state, could only smile helplessly, then got up and went to the cabinet in the office, asking, “Tea or sherry?”
The Duke of Wellington waved his hand impatiently, “Whatever.”
Hearing this, Sir Peel could only shrug, then took out two goblets and his prized sherry, pouring a little for each of them.
The Duke of Wellington swirled the glass, first sniffing the golden liquid, then taking a sip, before commenting.
“Good wine. This taste, it must be from Sanlúcar de Barrameda in Andalusia?”
Sir Peel smiled and nodded, “You really know your wine.”
Perhaps the wine took effect, and the Duke of Wellington’s bad mood finally calmed down.
He said, “If you had fought the Peninsular War, you would understand. From Lisbon in Portugal, to Madrid in Spain, to Toulouse in France, I wish I didn’t know wine so well.
Robert, remember what I told you? Fighting wars all the time is a bad thing. Even the most ruthless people, if you throw them onto the battlefield for a day, they will pray to God not to fight for even an hour longer!
The Catholic Emancipation Act must be passed, and Britain must not have a civil war. Those opponents simply cannot understand how important peace is. They just keep shouting, only when the cannonballs fall on their heads will they know what pain is.”
Sir Peel shook his head, “Your Grace, those extremists in the party are not what you think. A good number of them think war is a good thing.
The 22 years of Napoleonic Wars caused Britain to suffer a long period of continental trade blockade, leading to a surge in domestic food prices and a year-on-year increase in land rents.
But land rents are easy to raise, but difficult to lower. Those people are used to a life of luxury and indulgence, how can they be willing to go back to their previous way of life?
If it weren’t for their insistence on not lowering land rents, how could there have been such large-scale ‘Swing Riots’ in the past few months?”
Hearing this, the Duke of Wellington couldn’t help but curse, “Speaking of which, I’m so angry! These people refuse to lower land rents and refuse to continue revising the Corn Laws, and finally joined the Whigs in blaming the riots on me!
They’ve got all the good words! Now the Whigs are starting to talk about parliamentary reform! If rotten boroughs are all abolished, I wonder how those people will get into the House of Commons!”
Hearing this, Sir Peel could only put his hands on his temples and frown in thought, “This won’t do. Some people in the party have started to sway towards the Whigs.
If we lose their support, we won’t be able to maintain a majority in the House of Commons. We need to find a way to win over some people’s support.”
The Duke of Wellington said, “I’ve calculated that due to the passage of the Catholic Emancipation Act, we can now secure the support of almost all the MPs in southern Ireland, plus some moderate members from northern Ireland, we can probably get at least 80 seats out of the 105 seats in the House of Commons in Ireland.
Currently, there are about 200 Tory MPs in England, Wales, and Scotland who have clearly expressed their willingness to support the ****. That’s 280 seats in total.”
Sir Peel frowned and shook his head, “But it’s still not enough. You’re in the House of Lords, so I’m not worried about that. But the House of Commons has a total of 658 seats, and we need to secure the support of 330 seats. The key to whether the cabinet can continue now lies in whether we can win over those MPs who hold an intermediate position.”
Hearing this, Wellington sighed, “Robert, if nothing else, I’ll just reconcile with Huskisson. Although he has been increasingly distant from the mainstream of the party in the past two years, he hasn’t formally announced his departure from the Tories. Those Huskissonian MPs who follow him probably have about 30 seats.”
Sir Peel couldn’t help but smile at hearing this, “I didn’t expect you to be willing to bring this up yourself.”
“What else can I do?”
The Duke of Wellington said helplessly, “I can’t really do what the *Manchester Guardian* wrote: Be tyrannical, completely ignore philosophical principles, hold deep-rooted prejudices, be incompetent, and at the same time, be stubborn?”
Sir Peel narrowed his eyes and smiled, “So you saw it too. I thought, based on your temperament, you’d come to me today to order the Scotland Yard police to crack down on them.”
“Crack down? I’m too lazy for that. Let them say whatever they want. Their mouths are their own, let them do as they please.”
The Duke of Wellington stood up and smoothed his clothes, “So that’s settled. I’ll go and get Huskisson to agree. The remaining dozen or so seats will depend on you, Robert. I know you have a good relationship with some Whigs. See if you can win them over.”
Sir Peel nodded, “I’ll go and find some intermediaries later and see if I have a chance to contact them.”
As he finished speaking, the office door suddenly creaked open, and the private secretary poked his head through the door, meekly saying.
“Sir…”
Sir Peel, seeing his appearance, couldn’t help but laugh and said ahead of him, “Who sent you to deliver a message this time?”
“No, he’s already downstairs.”
The Duke of Wellington laughed when he heard this, and finished his sherry, “It seems you’ve made progress, at least you’re not talking so much nonsense.”
Sir Peel asked, “Who’s here this time?”
The private secretary blinked twice, “The Scotland Yard Superintendent, Mr. Arthur Hastings, requests to see you.”
“Oh?”
Sir Peel and the Duke of Wellington exchanged smiles.
“Let him in.”
(End of Chapter)