Chapter 15
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: To the Highest Place
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“Who did you say wanted to see me?”
“My father. So it seems we'll have to go together now.”
“Did you tell the Duke of Wellington about me?”
“I asked him for a letter of recommendation, so of course, I had to talk about you.”
Come to think of it, he did say he would take responsibility and get me the letter.
In truth, I was confident I could get into Eton College even without the Duke of Wellington's recommendation.
But as an illegitimate son of an Irish nobleman, could I truly avoid any form of discrimination at such a prestigious school?
I might be fine since I am still a nobleman, but I couldn't be sure without fully understanding the atmosphere of this era.
In that respect, the Duke of Wellington's letter of recommendation was a crucial form of insurance.
Because no one would be audacious enough to mess with a nobleman who entered with a letter of recommendation from the Duke of Wellington, unless they were out of their mind.
“Are you saying His Grace wishes to see me in person to decide whether or not to write the letter?”
“It seems so. Once he talks to you, he'll definitely be convinced, so I suppose I've kept my promise, right?”
“I'm just asking to be sure, but you didn't say more than was necessary about me, did you?”
“Of course not. What do you take me for? I told him you're not a once-in-a-century genius, but a genius nonetheless.”
What's with that ambiguous qualifier?
In any case, setting aside Wellesley's strange description, the chance to meet the Duke of Wellington in person was an undeniable golden opportunity.
As expected, my father, upon hearing the news, welcomed it with open arms and pushed me on my way.
“If the Duke of Wellington wants to see you, you must go at once! He's a very serious man who rarely meets people personally. If he has asked to see you, don't question it, just go immediately.”
“Yes, I'll be on my way then.”
“If today goes well, I'll have to visit the Duke with a personal gift. This could make it much easier to have the title passed down to you.”
After being repeatedly warned to mind my words and actions in front of the Duke of Wellington, I followed Wellesley out of the mansion.
* * *
Riding in the carriage, I entered the Mayfair district, where the wealthy nobles of London resided in this era.
The Duke of Wellington, befitting a man called a national hero, lived in a magnificent mansion known as Apsley House.
The Duke held a great affection for this mansion, a gift from the state after his victory at Waterloo, and had adorned its interior with priceless works of art.
It was a place that remained faintly in my memory, as in modern times it was used as a museum displaying items related to the Duke of Wellington.
Of course, unlike in modern times, the prestige of Apsley House with its original owner still very much alive could not be compared to a mere museum.
From what Wellesley told me, the mansion had been bustling with numerous famous figures attending an event just yesterday.
Moreover, since official events of that caliber were held regularly, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it the true center of high society in the British Empire.
However, the placement of the Waterloo Gallery for all visitors to see was, frankly, a bit amusing.
Considering the future Trafalgar Square and Waterloo Station, perhaps it wasn't the French but the British who loved Napoleon the most.
Of course, they probably just wanted to revel in the pride of 'our great British Empire that defeated the great Napoleon'.
In any case, thanks to that, I feasted my eyes on the artworks the Duke of Wellington had collected as I entered his study with Wellesley.
“Father. I've brought him. This is Killian.”
“Is that so?”
A middle-aged man who had been reading in his chair turned to look at us without rising.
Though he was now in his early sixties, entering his twilight years, he was an impressive man with a well-maintained physique and a powerful aura.
“Killian, make your greetings. This is my father, His Grace, the Duke of Wellington.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you for the first time! I am Killian Gore, son of Arthur Gore, the Earl of Arran. It is an honor to meet Your Grace, the hero of Waterloo.”
“Indeed. It is a pleasure to meet you. Seeing you in person, you have sharp features and a clear jawline; you will grow to be a very handsome man. And I hear you are brilliant as well? The Earl must be very pleased.”
“Thank you for your kind words.”
Perhaps it's because I've encountered him so often in historical records. Despite seeing him for the first time, I feel a strange sense of familiarity.
The Duke of Wellington, who had been observing me, closed his book and gestured to Wellesley.
“I need to speak with him alone for a moment, so you may leave.”
“What? If it's just a conversation, I can also...”
“You've praised him so highly, it's only natural I'd want to find out more for myself. Your presence might cloud my judgment, so I'm asking you to step out for a moment.”
“Yes. I will step out for a moment, then.”
To openly state he was going to test me... was he planning some kind of stress interview?
No. A Duke of the nation wouldn't do such a thing to a ten-year-old child.
Sure enough, as I quietly watched Wellesley leave, the Duke of Wellington spoke to me in a much softer tone.
“Pay no mind to what I said earlier. It was just an excuse to send that boy out.”
“Lord Wellesley... ah, it would be better to call him Major here. The Major seems to hold me in very high regard.”
Since the Duke of Wellington before me also had the surname Wellesley, using the title would avoid any confusion.
The Duke, watching me speak so articulately with an amused expression, pointed a finger at a document on his desk.
“This is the letter of recommendation. Once I sign it, you will enter Eton College as someone whose qualities are guaranteed by the Duke of Wellington. Charles told me that not giving you such an opportunity would be a dereliction of his duty as a nobleman of this country.”
“Such excessive praise is rather embarrassing.”
“Still, it is the first time that boy has praised someone to this extent. So naturally, I became curious. He said I would understand your brilliance just by speaking with you, so what topic shall we discuss? Shall we start with why you wish to enter Eton?”
“Before that, may I ask if the Major has explained even a little of my background to Your Grace? Although I imagine Your Grace would know everything without needing to be told.”
I didn't need to hear the answer to know.
There was no way a man of the Duke of Wellington's stature wouldn't have done a background check before summoning me.
Naturally, the Duke nodded, the benevolent smile never leaving his face.
On the way here, I had been racking my brain.
How could I impress the Duke without revealing my true nature?
The answer, surprisingly, was not far off.
An Irish nobleman, a half-blood with Asian lineage.
That is my identity.
Although my birth was an undeniable weakness, it seemed it could also be a breakthrough.
Even if a gem doesn't shine brightly, if it is unique in the world, its rarity alone makes it stand out.
Then all I had to do was season my story in a way that would make the Duke, one of Britain's most powerful men, perceive my value positively.
“Since you know of my origins, I will not elaborate further. I wish to become an indispensable figure in this country. I believe attending Eton will be an excellent aid in achieving that goal.”
“Oh...?”
Intrigued by the grand ambition that contrasted with my origins, Wellesley slowly leaned forward from the back of his chair.
“I understand that Eton College is one of the finest educational institutions in this country. I wish to follow in the footsteps of great alumni like Your Grace there. Of course, that is not to say I wish to become a soldier.”
“It is true that if one does not graduate from Eton or Harrow, even with an Oxbridge degree, there is a perception that they are not among the top elite. If you wish to be the best, graduating from there is the right choice.”
The public schools in Britain, while not strictly universities, wielded an influence that in some ways surpassed them.
As the Duke said, no matter how prestigious a university like Oxford or Cambridge one attended, there were clear limits. Without a diploma from a school like Eton, Harrow, or Winchester College, one was bound to fall behind in terms of connections and perception.
“So, you need the prestige of that famous school. You believe that despite being a nobleman, your Irish origins will be an obstacle.”
“When I first arrived in London, I thought so. But since I cannot change the circumstances of my birth, I decided to accept it as an advantage. It is also true that my situation now is incomparably better than where I was before.”
“An advantage? How so?”
“It has not yet been thirty years since Ireland was incorporated into the British Empire. I do not know how Your Grace perceives it, but I have heard from my father that many Irish people still feel they are discriminated against.”
Throwing out such a sensitive topic was a gamble, but the advantage of being a child was that a certain degree of tactlessness was permissible.
The Duke wore a slightly troubled smile, as if he never expected such a topic to arise.
“It would be best not to say what you just said in front of other nobles. Depending on the situation, it could be taken as a very sensitive statement.”
“I know. My father also warned me never to speak of this. But I believed it was a necessary point to address in order to explain my goal to Your Grace.”
“Ireland... it is indeed a sore spot.”
“Yes. I was not in Britain last year, so I did not know, but I heard there was a tremendous backlash within England regarding the Catholic Emancipation Act.”
If one were to name the biggest event in Britain in 1829, it would undoubtedly be the Catholic Emancipation Act.
Since the Church of England had become the state religion, Britain had followed a separate path from Catholicism, but the vast majority of Ireland's population were Catholics.
This very point led to discrimination against the Irish in public office after the union with England, and in 1829, this discontent exploded.
At the center of it was Daniel O'Connell, Ireland's spiritual and political leader.
With the absolute support of the Irish clergy, lawyers, and citizens, he pressured the British government, and Parliament eventually yielded.
This sparked considerable backlash throughout England, and a torrent of criticism was reportedly leveled at the Duke of Wellington.
When my father told me this story, I felt that this incident could actually work in my favor.
And now, seeing the Duke of Wellington's reaction, that feeling had turned into certainty.
“I understand that the current population of this country exceeds twenty million, and the population of Ireland accounts for nearly a third of that. That is to say, if the Irish were to unite and act as one, as they did with the Catholic Emancipation, would the government not be pressured?”
“Yes. And even more so if a figure like Daniel O'Connell becomes their focal point.”
“That is why I believe someone like me is all the more necessary. I have Irish blood, but my identity as a Briton is strong. To be more precise, I have no intention of seeing Ireland and Britain as separate entities.”
“I see. You intend to become a deterrent to quell Irish discontent? A remarkable idea, hard to believe it came from the mind of a ten-year-old. Indeed, if you could become such an asset, we could not be more grateful.”
Knowing the future, I was well aware of the great tragedy that would befall Ireland and how it would fuel anti-British sentiment.
But a division of the nation would be of no benefit to Britain, nor to me.
I had to somehow turn Ireland, with a population one-third that of Britain's, into my political asset.
And through my existence, Ireland too could minimize the damage of its fated tragedy and greet a much more hopeful future.
“It has been less than a year since I came to this country, so there is much I do not know. But to me, who grew up suffering miserable treatment in Joseon, this country was a land of hope and opportunity. I wish to be perceived as such a figure by the people of Ireland.”
“Certainly, the higher you rise in this country, the more likely Irish discontent will subside. Or we could even groom you to be a counter to Daniel O'Connell. But won't many Irish people call you a traitor?”
“I will provide far more for the people of Ireland than those people ever could, so their accusations would be meaningless. No one would pay them any mind.”
“Hahaha! Excellent confidence. I suppose one needs that much nerve to so boldly ask me to support them.”
He was almost convinced, but there was one final blow left.
If it ended here, the Duke of Wellington might only try to use me as a propaganda tool for Ireland.
I had to firmly imprint upon him that my value was far greater than that.
“Finally, I am fluent not only in Asian languages but also in their culture. The master of the household where I grew up was a high-ranking official in charge of Joseon's diplomacy. From what I saw and heard, I have a general understanding of how people over there think.”
“Oh, is that so? I do recall hearing something of the sort.”
“Yes. And whether in ten or twenty years, won't this country inevitably become entangled with those nations of the Far East? When that time comes, I believe there will be no one who can carry out the mission more brilliantly than I.”
I considered mentioning the war of nerves with Russia more specifically, but I decided against it, as that was not a thought that would come from a ten-year-old's mind.
This much was more than enough.
The Duke of Wellington could probably sketch out a rough picture on his own from this conversation alone.
I fell silent and waited for him to speak again.
Before long, the Duke of Wellington smiled faintly and moved his pen lightly across the letter of recommendation on the table.
“I wondered why Charles was making such a fuss, but now I see his judgment was accurate. Of course, most of this is likely the Earl's thinking, but to understand it properly and articulate it like this is impressive enough. Learn much at Eton, and I will be cheering for you to become a fine leader who can represent Ireland as you said.”
“Thank you. I will ensure you are never disappointed.”
Maintaining a respectful demeanor without showing any excitement, I accepted the letter of recommendation the Duke offered me.
This paper I've just obtained is not merely for gaining admission to Eton.
It was not a simple acceptance letter, but a guarantee—a promise that I would not be barred from the central political circles of Britain because of my birth.
With this, the minimum foundation has been laid.
All that remains is to accumulate as much power as possible before this veil is lifted.
* * *
In the months following my receipt of the Duke of Wellington's letter of recommendation, a series of major and minor incidents occurred in Britain.
The funeral procedures for George IV, who passed away this year, were concluded, and the scheduled general election was held. The results were as expected.
The Tory Party, led by the Duke of Wellington, was defeated by the Whig Party, led by Charles Grey, and was relegated to the opposition.
Their inept handling of the Catholic Emancipation Act and the Swing Riots was the undeniable cause of their defeat.
The Tory Party lost, but this only made it clearer that my future role would be even more important, so it wasn't a bad outcome.
My father said he would begin the inheritance process in earnest once I entered Eton, and I simply studied moderately while waiting for the right moment.
As the seasons passed and the year turned, I used all my incoming revenue to purchase land in Chicago and Illinois, just as I had planned.
Wellesley, who had been watching my investments with doubt, came to see me about a year later in 1831, holding a mid-term report that had flown in from across the sea.
“Damn it all! I should've trusted you and invested when you told me to!”
The paper he held out to me briefly stated the approximate amount I had invested so far and the news that the sum had grown by more than threefold.
“Killian, I'm begging you, next time I don't listen to you, curse me out until I do. Got it? Ah... seriously. I just missed a chance to triple my fortune by sitting on my hands. I'm such an idiot.”
Watching Wellesley scratch his head and shake it wildly, I decided it was about time to make my move.
Now that I had secured Wellesley to act as my public shield, wasn't it time I found a proxy to act on my behalf?
Fortunately, the perfect candidate for that position had already been decided upon since my very first day in Britain.