The Dead Skunk
- Thread starter Lycaon pictus
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Of course being n adulterer, which everyone knew, or even him being declared one officially, isnt going to make him abdicate. What it is, is an excuse. What really will get him to abdicate is pressure from the tories, who fear civil war.
If he plays along, however unwillingly, he gets a nice sinecure and lovely pension, otherwise hes ousted anyway and has to flee to live supported by relatives on the continent.
Actually, his best bet is probably to have a fit of apoplexy on hearing the proposition, and die of a massive stroke on the spot.
Id say 'poor man', but he really is reaping what he sowed.
Checkmate (1)
Lycaon pictus
Donor
Thanks, everyone.
Sunday, July 23
1 p.m.
Carlton House
"I beg your pardon?" said King George IV in dangerous tones. He had summoned his cabinet again, possibly not trusting them out of his sight. They had met briefly outside his house.
"We are all in agreement on this," said Lord Liverpool. "The Pains and Penalties Act must be abandoned tomorrow." Castlereagh, Eldon, Bexley[1], Harrowby[2] and Westmorland[3] all nodded.
So did Wellington. "I have reason to believe that the Radicals are plotting to turn the proceedings against us, to depose you in favor of your daughter and—"
"She is not my daughter!"
"If we drop the matter now, we can still salvage the peace," continued Wellington. Last night he had felt terribly guilty about having plotted to depose George himself. Now that he was in the man's presence again, those feelings were slipping away.
"Do you know that girl and that woman both had Sir Charles Hesse as a lover?"[4] said George. "Why hasn't that been addressed?"
"It is too late for that," said Castlereagh. "I will not have another 'infallible' plan explode in my face."
"No one is asking you to invite the queen back into your home, Your Majesty," said Liverpool. "Your marriage to her will remain a legal fiction, as it has these many years."
"Endure it, Your Majesty!" spat George. "Can't be helped! It's for the best! Again and again and again! Was ever a man subjected to such constraints, such coercions—"
"Do you call this constraint?" said Wellington. "All your life, Your Majesty, you have enjoyed at ratepayers' expense such luxuries as few men even dream of — endless nights of parties, wine, games and music, well-born women lining up to be your next mistress — and all that was ever asked in return was that you endure a bad marriage, a thing many men suffer with far less recompense!" Myself, for one, he thought.
"I would have traded a good many nights of gaming and drinking to marry a woman I loved!" said George. "And to be forced — forced, if I wanted my rightful inheritance — to couple with that… stinking thing…" He gagged a little, but continued. "While everyone assured me it was for the best, and all London celebrated because their prince had found true love at last… and how was I rewarded for my pains? With that… cuckoo's egg!"
"Your Majesty, that allegation was proven to be—"
"If she's not a bastard in the flesh, she certainly is one in spirit! Goneril and Regan were better daughters!" He put his head in his hands.
There was a long pause. Then Lord Liverpool spoke.
"Your Majesty, we all sympathize with your position, but—"
"No," interruped George. "No. I have had enough. I have suffered enough. I will not go to church to hear her blessed and prayed for. I will not have her by my side at my coronation. I had no choice but to obey my father, but I need not obey you lot — I am king. I know what a great inconvenience that is to everyone, but it is the truth. If Parliament will not satisfy me in this, then I shall dismiss Parliament as is my right.[5]
"And do not presume to threaten me with a Whig majority, either. Should that happen, the lot of you go back to the back benches and I will still be king. I can dismiss a Whig Parliament just as easily."
There was another long pause.
"So be it, Your Majesty," said Liverpool, "but for the sake of the kingdom I have one request."
"What is it?"
"I request," said Liverpool, gesturing in Wellington's direction, "that His Grace be permitted to continue his services as Master-General of the Ordnance, should you choose to dismiss the rest of us. If things come to the worst… we may have need of him."
"Very well, if he can refrain from offering me unsolicited advice."
As they were leaving Carlton House, Wellington turned to Liverpool. "Should I thank you for that?" he said.
"No, you shouldn't," said Liverpool. "I did it because if the fate of the kingdom were to rest on one man's shoulders, I would choose you to be the man."
* * *
7 p.m.
Apsley House
Wellington looked down the length of the table at his wife. Once, a young violinist had loved and desired that lady more than anything — so much so that he had abandoned his music and gone into the army to win her father's approval. (He had actually burned his violin. Damned silly gesture, he could have sold it and bought something useful… but perhaps at the time it had been necessary for him.)
And it had worked. Now she was his wife. Ironically, the feeling between them had long since vanished. In a greater irony, he had found he was better at war than at music. If that young fool had been given the freedom he desired, he could not possibly have made a life for himself that was as satisfying — or as useful to king and country — as the one Providence had chosen for him. Which was why he had very little sympathy with those who agitated for greater freedom… and no sympathy at all for the king.
"Of course, if we choose to continue with the trial," he said, "then while Lords are trying the Queen, Brougham will have the Commons try the King. And, again, the King will dismiss Parliament."
"If he tries to govern without Parliament, it will mean chaos," said Catherine. "I know that much. What will you do?"
"That is what I have been asking myself again and again. If I obey him, it will only prolong the ruin of the kingdom."
"Why not resign, then?"
"Because I wish to avert the danger to the kingdom, not merely wash my hands of it. If I resign, the situation will be the same as it is now, but with some empty-headed lackey doing my work in my place.
"The only other option would be to defy His Majesty and His Grace the Duke of York. I could do that, and I think the army would follow me. But if I did, I might as well crown myself King Arthur II… or, more fittingly, Emperor Wellington Bonaparte I."
"I must say, you would certainly make a better king than—"
"Silence," he said in a voice he might have used to reprimand a subordinate.
Catherine was silent.
"I am not the Thane of Glamis and Cawdor," he said. "Do not say such a thing to me again."
"Forgive m—" Wellington motioned for her to be quiet.
"It never happened," he said. Then he set about eating his dinner, which was starting to get cold.
Of course he'd make a better king, and so would nine out of ten random Englishmen. But if the crown was up for grabs, if a general couldn't win three battles in a row without becoming a threat to the Government, Britannia would soon suffer the fate of the Roman Empire. That was why legitimacy mattered, even if it meant the occasional rule of a millstone such as George.
Some other way forward would have to be found.
[1]Chancellor of the Exchequer.
[2]Lord President of the Council.
[3]Lord Privy Seal. His son, whom I mistakenly referred to earlier as the Earl of Westmorland (I'll clean it up for the Finished Timelines version) is the British ambassador to Italy.
[4]Charlotte herself told her father that Caroline tried to play matchmaker between her and Hesse. This was years ago, when things hadn't gone completely toxic between George and Charlotte.
[5]IOTL, when his cabinet abandoned the war on Caroline, George threatened to resign in favor of his brother Frederick, and afterwards tried to have Lord Liverpool removed. Here, what he sees as his daughter's betrayal has pushed him over the edge.
Sunday, July 23
1 p.m.
Carlton House
"I beg your pardon?" said King George IV in dangerous tones. He had summoned his cabinet again, possibly not trusting them out of his sight. They had met briefly outside his house.
"We are all in agreement on this," said Lord Liverpool. "The Pains and Penalties Act must be abandoned tomorrow." Castlereagh, Eldon, Bexley[1], Harrowby[2] and Westmorland[3] all nodded.
So did Wellington. "I have reason to believe that the Radicals are plotting to turn the proceedings against us, to depose you in favor of your daughter and—"
"She is not my daughter!"
"If we drop the matter now, we can still salvage the peace," continued Wellington. Last night he had felt terribly guilty about having plotted to depose George himself. Now that he was in the man's presence again, those feelings were slipping away.
"Do you know that girl and that woman both had Sir Charles Hesse as a lover?"[4] said George. "Why hasn't that been addressed?"
"It is too late for that," said Castlereagh. "I will not have another 'infallible' plan explode in my face."
"No one is asking you to invite the queen back into your home, Your Majesty," said Liverpool. "Your marriage to her will remain a legal fiction, as it has these many years."
"Endure it, Your Majesty!" spat George. "Can't be helped! It's for the best! Again and again and again! Was ever a man subjected to such constraints, such coercions—"
"Do you call this constraint?" said Wellington. "All your life, Your Majesty, you have enjoyed at ratepayers' expense such luxuries as few men even dream of — endless nights of parties, wine, games and music, well-born women lining up to be your next mistress — and all that was ever asked in return was that you endure a bad marriage, a thing many men suffer with far less recompense!" Myself, for one, he thought.
"I would have traded a good many nights of gaming and drinking to marry a woman I loved!" said George. "And to be forced — forced, if I wanted my rightful inheritance — to couple with that… stinking thing…" He gagged a little, but continued. "While everyone assured me it was for the best, and all London celebrated because their prince had found true love at last… and how was I rewarded for my pains? With that… cuckoo's egg!"
"Your Majesty, that allegation was proven to be—"
"If she's not a bastard in the flesh, she certainly is one in spirit! Goneril and Regan were better daughters!" He put his head in his hands.
There was a long pause. Then Lord Liverpool spoke.
"Your Majesty, we all sympathize with your position, but—"
"No," interruped George. "No. I have had enough. I have suffered enough. I will not go to church to hear her blessed and prayed for. I will not have her by my side at my coronation. I had no choice but to obey my father, but I need not obey you lot — I am king. I know what a great inconvenience that is to everyone, but it is the truth. If Parliament will not satisfy me in this, then I shall dismiss Parliament as is my right.[5]
"And do not presume to threaten me with a Whig majority, either. Should that happen, the lot of you go back to the back benches and I will still be king. I can dismiss a Whig Parliament just as easily."
There was another long pause.
"So be it, Your Majesty," said Liverpool, "but for the sake of the kingdom I have one request."
"What is it?"
"I request," said Liverpool, gesturing in Wellington's direction, "that His Grace be permitted to continue his services as Master-General of the Ordnance, should you choose to dismiss the rest of us. If things come to the worst… we may have need of him."
"Very well, if he can refrain from offering me unsolicited advice."
As they were leaving Carlton House, Wellington turned to Liverpool. "Should I thank you for that?" he said.
"No, you shouldn't," said Liverpool. "I did it because if the fate of the kingdom were to rest on one man's shoulders, I would choose you to be the man."
* * *
7 p.m.
Apsley House
Wellington looked down the length of the table at his wife. Once, a young violinist had loved and desired that lady more than anything — so much so that he had abandoned his music and gone into the army to win her father's approval. (He had actually burned his violin. Damned silly gesture, he could have sold it and bought something useful… but perhaps at the time it had been necessary for him.)
And it had worked. Now she was his wife. Ironically, the feeling between them had long since vanished. In a greater irony, he had found he was better at war than at music. If that young fool had been given the freedom he desired, he could not possibly have made a life for himself that was as satisfying — or as useful to king and country — as the one Providence had chosen for him. Which was why he had very little sympathy with those who agitated for greater freedom… and no sympathy at all for the king.
"Of course, if we choose to continue with the trial," he said, "then while Lords are trying the Queen, Brougham will have the Commons try the King. And, again, the King will dismiss Parliament."
"If he tries to govern without Parliament, it will mean chaos," said Catherine. "I know that much. What will you do?"
"That is what I have been asking myself again and again. If I obey him, it will only prolong the ruin of the kingdom."
"Why not resign, then?"
"Because I wish to avert the danger to the kingdom, not merely wash my hands of it. If I resign, the situation will be the same as it is now, but with some empty-headed lackey doing my work in my place.
"The only other option would be to defy His Majesty and His Grace the Duke of York. I could do that, and I think the army would follow me. But if I did, I might as well crown myself King Arthur II… or, more fittingly, Emperor Wellington Bonaparte I."
"I must say, you would certainly make a better king than—"
"Silence," he said in a voice he might have used to reprimand a subordinate.
Catherine was silent.
"I am not the Thane of Glamis and Cawdor," he said. "Do not say such a thing to me again."
"Forgive m—" Wellington motioned for her to be quiet.
"It never happened," he said. Then he set about eating his dinner, which was starting to get cold.
Of course he'd make a better king, and so would nine out of ten random Englishmen. But if the crown was up for grabs, if a general couldn't win three battles in a row without becoming a threat to the Government, Britannia would soon suffer the fate of the Roman Empire. That was why legitimacy mattered, even if it meant the occasional rule of a millstone such as George.
Some other way forward would have to be found.
[1]Chancellor of the Exchequer.
[2]Lord President of the Council.
[3]Lord Privy Seal. His son, whom I mistakenly referred to earlier as the Earl of Westmorland (I'll clean it up for the Finished Timelines version) is the British ambassador to Italy.
[4]Charlotte herself told her father that Caroline tried to play matchmaker between her and Hesse. This was years ago, when things hadn't gone completely toxic between George and Charlotte.
[5]IOTL, when his cabinet abandoned the war on Caroline, George threatened to resign in favor of his brother Frederick, and afterwards tried to have Lord Liverpool removed. Here, what he sees as his daughter's betrayal has pushed him over the edge.
Lycaon pictus
Possibly the cabinet can approach the Duke of York to try and persuade George to see sense? He's pretty right wing but also a lot more knowledgeable about the world. He will realise that the country is on the verge of possible chaos. I don't know if he might fancy being king himself under different circumstances but I think he has the sense to realise that currently its a poisoned chalice.
Alternatively if Wellington was to feel forced to help depose George by force, or at least order the army not to support him, which is probably all that would be required, then he could be king-maker, which is a dangerous enough role but less risky for the country. Forcing George to abdicate, possibly with talk of him being affected by the same insanity as his father, is probably the best way to go. He and the other Tories might not like the idea of Charlotte as queen but I think they could manage with her easier than with her father. Especially since Parliament and the country had just shown that a monarch who stepped too far out of line was disposable.
However whatever happens its going to be a pig of a mess.
Steve
Possibly the cabinet can approach the Duke of York to try and persuade George to see sense? He's pretty right wing but also a lot more knowledgeable about the world. He will realise that the country is on the verge of possible chaos. I don't know if he might fancy being king himself under different circumstances but I think he has the sense to realise that currently its a poisoned chalice.
Alternatively if Wellington was to feel forced to help depose George by force, or at least order the army not to support him, which is probably all that would be required, then he could be king-maker, which is a dangerous enough role but less risky for the country. Forcing George to abdicate, possibly with talk of him being affected by the same insanity as his father, is probably the best way to go. He and the other Tories might not like the idea of Charlotte as queen but I think they could manage with her easier than with her father. Especially since Parliament and the country had just shown that a monarch who stepped too far out of line was disposable.
However whatever happens its going to be a pig of a mess.
Steve
Goneril and Regan, eh?
1) he DOES remember Lear was mad, right?
2) and of course, he himself was such a dutiful and obedient son, right?
1) he DOES remember Lear was mad, right?
2) and of course, he himself was such a dutiful and obedient son, right?
I started reading this a week ago and thought it was good. But the way it is now goes much further than that. Well done, sir.
Checkmate (2)
Lycaon pictus
Donor
Wonderful, bloody wonderful! I Wish I could write like that
I gotta say, I was initially bored by the royal family-related updates. But having reached the most recent one, they have become my favourite part of the timeline
Will we see updates focusing on the South American theocracy?
Thank you both.
The growth of Carlos' new government and how it interacts with the existing colonial power structure is something I really want to do justice to, but I will get to it. In the meantime…
Monday morning, July 24. The moment of truth had arrived.
The Lords' first order of business was an address by Henry Brougham, whose tones of unctuous concern did nothing to disguise the true nature of his speech. "I pray your lordships to pause," he said. "You are standing upon the brink of a precipice." He advised them that if they found against the Queen, "it will be the only judgment you ever will pronounce which will fail in its object, and return upon those who give it." He called the Lords "the ornaments" of the nation, but reminded them that "you could flourish no longer, when severed from the people, than the blossom when cut off from the root and stem of the tree." Brougham went further: "Save the country, that you may continue to adorn it [emphasis added]—save the Crown, which is in jeopardy—the Aristocracy which is shaken—the Altar itself, which never more can stand secure amongst the shocks that shall rend its kindred throne."[1]
One would have to go back centuries to find anyone offering naked threats such as these to a House of Parliament. In case anyone needed reminding where the power to make these threats good came from, Brougham said that although Queen Caroline's name had been struck from the liturgy, "she has indeed, instead of that solemnity, the heartfelt prayers of the people." Solicitor General Robert Gifford[2] was ready to defy the Queenites — "My lords, God forbid that the time should ever arrive when such threats should have any weight in this assembly!" — but most of the Lords seemed to want to get this affair behind them and move on with the business of state…
No sooner had the Lords voted to abandon the Pains and Penalties Act than Lord Liverpool had to inform them that the King had chosen to exercise his right to dismiss them. Before they could act on this, however, someone else spoke up.
It was Charlotte Augusta Princess of Wales. "Given the present state of the realm," she said, "I request that Parliament delay its dissolution for a period of one week, so that it may take necessary actions to assuage public fears." She emphasized that she knew she had no right to command them and would never ask them to defy her father, but hoped they would honor her request as an heir to the throne and who had reached her majority.
This of course would be an unprecedented move. To the Tories, however, it was not only a chance to salvage something from this debacle, but welcome proof that Charlotte was her own woman and not merely Brougham's puppet. As for the Whigs, they did not wish to risk civil war in order to achieve power. The motion passed both Houses as quickly as anything has ever passed in Parliamentary history. (When asked if she did not fear one day having her power compromised in turn by one of her own children, Charlotte replied, "If ever I forget the good of the nation, I hope they shall act as I have today.")
The very next day, the King rescinded his dissolution of Parliament. His Majesty, who had begun the year as king in all but name, was now king in name only. If the next election produced a Whig majority and he dissolved it at once, his daughter could intervene again, asking for a "delay" of who knew how long. By taking this step, however, he could at least put off the Whigs' day of triumph.
But even as Parliament was quietly burying the King's attempt at divorce, the people in the northern cities were demonstrating — literally — that this was no longer simply a matter of who was their favourite member of the royal family…
Bertrand Martineau and P.G. Sherman, The Great Scheme
[1] This is the same speech Brougham gave IOTL in front of the Commons. I could not possibly improve it.
[2] I earlier referred to him as "Lord Gifford." My mistake. He wasn't raised to the peerage until 1824. I'll clean it up in post.
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Parliament just handed a constitutional role to the sovereign of Wales.
If this doesn't explode everything inside of a generation, the balance of powers going forward is going to be quite a bit of fun.
If this doesn't explode everything inside of a generation, the balance of powers going forward is going to be quite a bit of fun.
Lycaon pictus
Donor
True. Charlotte Augusta isn't thinking past the current crisis. Going forward, she'd better be nice to little Leo if she doesn't want some PM using him to thwart her someday.
Given that shes a hannoverian, good relations with her heir are ... not guaranteed, shall we say.
I must admit that is something I was wondering as well? At which point did female's become members of the house? Unless she's making a declaration from the public gallery, but not sure if that would be that welcome.
Steve