Chapter 63
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: To a Higher Place
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About a fortnight after King William IV's funeral.
Victoria, after consulting with Robert Peel, issued a royal proclamation dissolving Parliament.
The British Empire still held the belief that the authority and legitimacy of Parliament stemmed from the Crown, and thus a law existed stating that Parliament could not continue upon the monarch's death.
Recently, questions had been raised about the relevance of this law, but as long as it existed, it had to be followed.
And so, in what would be recorded as the last dissolution of Parliament in the history of the British Empire due to a monarch's death, an official notice was sent out across the nation, announcing an election to form a new Parliament.
Having concluded all the necessary procedures, Prime Minister Robert Peel returned, sighing heavily.
A new deep line seemed to have etched itself onto his forehead, showing the immense mental toll the affair had taken on him.
“You’ve worked hard, Prime Minister.”
“Parliament is dissolved, so I’m not the Prime Minister right now.”
“You’ll be Prime Minister again anyway, so what does it matter?”
“I would hope so… But have you found out everything you were looking into? Are you certain those Whigs are up to something else?”
“Of course.”
I had only given Robert Peel about half of what I had investigated.
I’d framed it as the Whigs planning to oust Daniel O'Connell and install a pro-Whig figure as his successor to alter the Repeal Association’s direction.
I didn't tell him the shocking truth that they intended to incite a massive riot in Ireland, blame it on the Conservative Party, and wipe out both the Tories and the Young Ireland faction in one fell swoop.
“So you’re saying the Whigs planned to get rid of O’Connell and make this MP named O’Brien the next leader of the Repeal Association. To me, they acted as if they wanted to obliterate the Repeal Association entirely. As I suspected, they had other intentions.”
“They probably plan to use O’Brien for all he’s worth and then cast him aside as well.”
In any case, O’Brien and the Young Ireland faction were nothing more than pitiful clowns dancing in the palm of the Whigs’ hands.
They might believe they are working for their country's independence out of some noble conviction, but the only ending awaiting them was to be cast aside after their usefulness had been exhausted.
They should be thanking me, really; at least history wouldn’t record them as the worst traitors who ruined Ireland.
Besides, how many who sought independence by borrowing the power of an outside force had ever succeeded?
And what if that force was a political party from the very nation that ruled over them?
They had buttoned the first button wrong from the very start, so there was no solution other than to sweep everything away and start over.
“In any case, since you said you have a plan, I will watch without informing the party. But you are well aware that if things go wrong, this won't end as just your problem, won't you?”
“Yes. But I trust that if I resolve this incident perfectly, you will grant me a more significant role in the next administration, Prime Minister.”
“Is that even a question? I’ve been thinking, and I’ve concluded that these things happen because our Conservative Party doesn’t have complete control over Ireland. My relationship with Daniel O’Connell isn’t bad, but he’s getting old, and given his desire for independence, we are bound to part ways eventually.”
“If someone from the Young Ireland faction, even if not O’Brien, succeeds O’Connell, there will be even more conflict with our party.”
“You’re right. So, if we become the ruling party this time, we must, no matter what, increase our party’s influence in Ireland. And since you’ll be of age next year, you’ll be able to participate in politics in earnest.”
Good, good. It’s going exactly as I’d hoped.
But surely you know what I need to completely swallow Ireland?
There has to be some give and take.
“However, Prime Minister, even when I come of age, it won’t be easy to make my presence known in politics. As an Earl, I cannot enter the House of Commons, and an Irish Earl cannot sit in the House of Lords…”
“Don’t worry about that. Once the election is over and Parliament is formed, the party will officially request that Her Majesty grant you a peerage. She is fond of you, so she is unlikely to refuse. Then, starting next year, you will be a member of the House of Lords.”
“Will there not be opposition within the party? Last I heard, there was significant dissent about me entering the House of Lords as soon as I come of age…”
“After the election, the full details of this incident will be known within the party, won't they? Then, the argument for pushing you as Ireland's representative to prevent such things in the future will inevitably gain strength. Don’t you worry.”
Of course. That’s how it should be.
After all, one of the reasons I didn't tell Robert Peel all the details was precisely this.
What if I had revealed all of the Whigs' schemes? How would Robert Peel and the Conservative Party have reacted?
They would naturally have focused all their efforts on stringing up the Whig leadership and laying waste to the opposition party.
Then I, having made a great contribution, would certainly be trusted at first, but how many years would that last?
Paradoxically, my value and Ireland's value were enhanced precisely because the Whig Party was a threatening opposition.
If the Whigs were reduced to a minor party struggling to win even 100 seats, my usefulness would be over.
Why would the Conservative Party continue to shower me with benefits when they were guaranteed to be the ruling party with or without Irish seats?
Scipio, who defeated Hannibal and crushed Carthage, is a prime example.
The unparalleled general, Scipio Africanus, who won the Battle of Zama and ended the Second Punic War.
At first, he was hailed as the hero who saved Rome, but he was eventually driven out of Roman politics by the Senate, which feared his growing influence.
If the Whigs were to truly fall, my future would not be much different.
They would bestow upon me the hollow title of a hero of the Conservative Party who helped drive out the Whigs, and then gradually push me into a corner.
“Thank you. If I am able to enter the House of Lords, I will strive even harder and dedicate myself to the Prime Minister and the Conservative Party.”
“Good. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Completely neutralizing the Whigs would have to wait until I was certain the Conservative Party was perfectly mine.
Of course, the more weaknesses of the enemy I held, the more ways I could use them, so I had to keep gathering evidence.
With the materials I’d collected this time, I could end the political careers of Viscount Melbourne or John Russell if I so chose.
So, until the time comes to release it, I hope they remain a threatening opposition party, at least in name.
So I can keep picking up the scraps that fall my way.
***
A small house on the outskirts of Ireland’s southernmost region.
Cork County, one of the largest constituencies in Ireland, was one of the crucial locations where this incident would begin.
And now, with the day of the event fast approaching, I was with O’Brien, reviewing the plan one last time.
“...With this, all preparations are complete. Now, as long as we move without mistakes on the day, the plan will proceed smoothly.”
“So you’re saying you will be by his side the moment O’Connell is arrested.”
“Yes. I need to give the signal in case the police don’t recognize him.”
It wasn’t a consciously crafted method, but the structure was similar to the way Judas betrayed Jesus in the Bible.
As I had been doing, I simply went along with O’Brien’s plan without adding much of my own commentary.
“The framework looks solid. With Killian Gore coming down to give support speeches for his party’s candidates, a large crowd will gather, and interest will be high. Are you planning a direct act of terror against the Conservative MPs there?”
“I’d like to, but for now, we’ll stick to threats. Besides, you promised to take care of Killian Gore.”
“Right, I did. Oh, if you need any additional support, just let me know. I can provide the funds.”
I didn't argue about the plan or pry too deeply, and I offered to provide funds.
From the perspective of the one carrying it out, there could be no more reliable an investor, which is why O’Brien continued to trust me to the very end, even though he had not yet seen my face.
“By the way, I suppose I’ll get to see your face after this plan is over. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Still curious about my identity? Or suspicious?”
“Not a chance. You’ve provided so much funding without a single complaint. And I can guess why you can’t show your face. A person your age who can move this much money can’t be common in this country. I can imagine the kind of background you must have.”
O’Brien looked at me as if he had a few candidates in mind and had come to some sort of understanding on his own.
Then he poured a glass full of Irish beer and proposed a toast.
“Now, everything will return to its rightful place. To the success of the plan, and for Ireland!”
“For Ireland.”
I didn't refuse, downing the lukewarm beer.
It was a shame for O’Brien, but the reason I had generously given him money and not asked probing questions about the plan was because there had been no need to.
Money is a current, and if you know the current, you see the whole plan.
Simply by tracking how O’Brien used the money I gave him, I could see exactly what kind of design he was working with.
How he disguised his operatives as rioters, in which regions he would simultaneously incite similar riots, and how he would fabricate evidence to frame Daniel O’Connell as the mastermind and pass it to the Irish police.
I had already figured it all out beforehand.
Had he been more experienced, he might have felt something was amiss, but the hot-bloodedness of his thirties and the intoxication of being close to the plan's success must have blinded him.
At the same time, through O’Brien, I had confirmed what kind of ideology the extreme radicals hidden within the Young Ireland faction shared.
Unfortunately, I couldn't keep such a dangerous bomb, one that completely disregarded reality, within Ireland.
If so, I hoped they would at least disappear as kindling for Ireland, just as they always sang.
As spectacularly as possible.
***
The day of the fateful campaign rally.
O’Brien tried to hide his tension, doing his best to assist Daniel O’Connell as usual.
“Today, we have a joint rally in Cork County. From the Conservative side, the Earl of Arran and the candidates he supports are coming, so a fierce debate is expected.”
“Still, that place supported us last time, so at least three of the four seats should be won by our people. What’s most important is to convince not just the voters, but all citizens of our policies.”
O’Connell wasn’t obsessed with just winning elections.
His grand goal was to win the support of all Irish citizens who had put down roots in this land, even if they didn’t have the right to vote.
In that respect, Cork County, with a population well over 800,000, was a region they could not afford to lose, and the same was true for the Conservative Party.
“Lord O’Connell, the rising popularity of the Earl of Arran’s family is no small matter. If we don’t respond with care, we might lose the regions we hold to them.”
“If the citizens of Ireland believe their ideology is more righteous than ours, we must humbly accept it. Our hearts are both for Ireland, so isn’t it right to engage in friendly competition?”
“That is too soft a thought. Look at what those British bastards did this time. They’re spreading slanderous articles claiming you’re having an affair with John D’Esterre’s widow.”
“There’s no need to be swayed by such low-brow schemes. The wise voters will know that it’s a trash article not even worth considering.”
The provocative articles, meant to obscure the true purpose of the Whigs and O’Brien, continued to spread, but O’Connell didn’t seem to pay them much mind.
His strategy for this rally was to offer a brief rebuttal and focus on the more fundamental issues.
He wasn’t wrong. He certainly wasn’t wrong, but he was far too lenient.
Take the issue of Killian Gore, for instance.
Both sides were sincere in their love for Ireland?
With such a soft heart, how could he possibly unite Irish public opinion and achieve independence?
Politics must be approached with the mindset of a war, where one must bring the enemy to their knees and monopolize all benefits.
In his heart, O’Brien once again confirmed O’Connell as a weak leader.
What was about to happen today was not wrong; it was all for Ireland.
After once again justifying his decision, O’Brien no longer had a shred of hesitation.
Finally, as their carriage arrived at the rally site, a cloud-like crowd surged forward, raising their voices.
“O’Connell! O’Connell!”
“The hope of Ireland! The guardian of Ireland!”
The fiery cheers of his followers poured down before he even stepped onto the stage.
Responding to their fervor, O’Connell delivered an impromptu speech in an even louder voice as he walked to the podium.
“My dear compatriots, my beloved brothers and sisters!”
“O’Connell! O’Connell! O’Connell!”
“Thanks to all of you who have believed in and supported me, we have achieved much! No longer are your tithes used solely for that minority Anglican Church, nor is our local administration swayed by a few corrupt politicians! But we have not yet reached our destination! What is it that we want?”
“Independence! Independence! Independence!”
“That’s right! We will continue to march towards independence! Until the day we can determine our own future with our own hands, I, Daniel O’Connell, will be with you! Even if you pay a little less in taxes, even if you do not have the right to vote, I will listen to the voices of all. Do not forget that I, O’Connell, will always be by your side! For Ireland!”
“For Ireland!”
That charisma, driving his supporters wild before the proper rally had even begun.
For how long had he harbored the regret that if only that ability were used better, Ireland’s independence could have been hastened?
But that feeling, too, would end today.
Just as the atmosphere had heated up nicely, at the perfect moment, he saw the Conservative MPs and their supporters gathering on the far opposite side.
Just as O’Connell, standing on the stage, was about to begin his main speech, O’Brien, standing behind him, gave the signal. As if on cue, shouts erupted from various parts of the crowd.
“There! The lapdogs of the unionists, obstructing our independence!”
“Traitorous bastards who deny independence!”
“Isn’t it because of those assholes licking England’s boots that we still don’t have independence?”
“Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!”
As the numerous agitators planted beforehand rushed out shouting, some of the crowd, already seething with anger, were swept up in the frenzy before they knew it.
It takes two to tango, and if the other side didn't react, it would have fizzled out, but of course, people had been planted on that side as well.
“Empty-headed independence parrots!”
“They want a beating, let’s give them what they want!”
It wasn't unheard of for opposing sides to clash during campaign activities, but the scale this time was different.
Thanks to the agitators embedded at key points, the crowd completely lost their senses, and the uncontrolled masses instantly turned into a mob.
They weren't just fighting amongst themselves; they were smashing the carriages of landowners and candidates, tearing down banners, and chairs and clubs flew through the air.
“Smash it all! This was all built on our blood and sweat anyway!”
It wasn't just here.
Similar incidents would be occurring in the north and central regions, so the authorities would not be able to ignore this disturbance.
Watching the cauldron of curses, screams, and madness erupting everywhere, O’Brien moved to O’Connell’s side, feigning protection.
“Lord O’Connell, the situation looks serious. Just in case, you should probably get away from here…”
“What are you talking about! We have to stop this madness! Everyone, listen to me! You must not use violence! Using violence only undermines our own position!”
No matter how much he appealed, his words fell on deaf ears, already consumed by the frenzy of violence.
Besides, even if this side stopped, the rioters planted on the other side would continue to cause a ruckus, so this tide could not be stopped.
“Lord O’Connell! The Conservative MPs have already recognized the gravity of the situation and have all pulled back. If we stay here, there’s no telling what might happen to us.”
“How on earth did this happen…? This feels too unnatural.”
He looked bewildered, unable to understand why such an incident had suddenly erupted when they had held the rally at a considerable distance to prevent just this, and nothing had happened last time.
“Even if you must ponder, you should do it in a safe place! It’s dangerous here!”
“Haa… This shouldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be…”
Convinced of the plan’s success, O’Brien led O’Connell away through a pre-arranged escape route.
After about an hour of catching their breath, the Irish police, who had arrived late as scheduled, found them.
“Are you Daniel O’Connell and William Smith O’Brien of the Repeal Association?”
“We are. Are you here to investigate today’s incident?”
“We are here not to investigate, but to arrest. We have secured clear evidence of a mastermind behind this incident, and an arrest warrant has been issued.”
“Arrest? Whom?”
O’Connell’s face clouded with confusion. O’Brien offered a silent apology to the old master he had once revered.
‘You’ve worked hard until now. I will carry on your will, so please forgive me.’
Four police officers stopped before them and slowly, deliberately, spoke the name of the person who had orchestrated the incident.
“We are arresting Mr. William Smith O’Brien as the mastermind of this riot.”
“Nonsense! To say Lord O’Connell is the culprit, what kind of ridiculous—!”
Wait, who were they arresting?
“I said we are arresting William Smith O’Brien, not Daniel O’Connell, as the mastermind of this riot.”
About to deliver his planned reaction, he felt as if he had heard a name that shouldn't have been spoken and looked around.
He stared blankly at the calm expressions of the police and the shocked eyes of Daniel O’Connell, then pointed a finger at himself and asked.
“...Who? Me?”