Chapter 34

My initial bewilderment stemmed from a fundamental misunderstanding of the British Empire's power structures. It was perplexing how George Canning, a man seemingly ill-suited for the pinnacle of power, ascended to the premiership, holding the office from 1812 to 1827. His physical presence was unremarkable, even detracting: his spectacles perched precariously, his eyes perpetually narrowed in a nervous squint, his demeanor betraying a palpable anxiety. Furthermore, his eccentricities—ostentatiously displaying his scars, cruelly handling his pet, and conducting official business in undignified postures—were hardly assets in the court of public opinion. Yet, this unprepossessing figure masterminded pivotal policies during the British Empire's zenith, bequeathing a formidable legacy to his countrymen.

As a young student, I grappled with this enigma: how could such an individual, lacking the obvious charisma and competence of his numerous rivals, not only surmount the obstacles to become Prime Minister but also wield such decisive influence over the Empire's fate, dictating its course in times of war and peace? The answer, I eventually discovered, lay in Canning's mastery of interpersonal diplomacy—what I now term "retail politics." His success hinged not on broad public appeal, but on meticulously cultivating relationships within the corridors of power. Instead of courting millions, he focused his energy on a select cadre of influential decision-makers. His persuasive charm, deployed directly and intimately, swayed senators, parliamentarians, and other key figures, effectively controlling the votes of the broader populace. His strategy was laser-focused: securing the support of pivotal individuals rather than chasing the elusive phantom of widespread popular approval.The fewer the audience, the more potent his influence. I was privileged to witness this firsthand, hearing him utter a profound aphorism: addressing six hundred and fifty representatives is simpler than persuading three hundred senators. Viscount Palmerston, delivering this observation, fixed his gaze upon the assembled company, his eyes lingering on Prince Edward.

"Indeed," he declared, "the Senate and the House—herein lies his true domain; the House's larger assembly suits him perfectly." Prince Edward remained taciturn. "My Lord Palmerston," Princess Helena interjected, her voice sharp, "why, pray tell, is it easier to sway the House than the Senate?" Before Palmerston could respond, Princess Louise, her gaze briefly touching Prince Edward's startled expression, met Palmerston's gaze with unwavering intensity. "Because," she explained deliberately, "the Senate's composition predominantly comprises the progeny of royalty, hereditary and titled aristocrats, and those elevated through various means—life peers, Scottish and Irish nobility, even former prime ministers and high-ranking clergy. In contrast, the House of Representatives comprises elected officials, more accessible and responsive." Viscount Palmerston's eyes, crinkled with age, betrayed his astonishment. This was far from unprecedented. Princess Louise consistently astounded him, a fact he now subtly regretted. He wished fervently she weren't betrothed to the Dutch royal family.

Truthfully, within the British Empire, few seemed worthy of her hand—marrying another aristocrat felt insufficient.A priceless jade artifact, shrouded in the dust of ages, sat before them. Viscount Palmerston's immediate dismissal of its beauty revealed a profound understanding of Queen Victoria's current predicament. The jewel, representing Princess Louise, was a source of both immense affection and crippling anxiety: to relinquish it felt like a betrayal, yet to hold onto it, a constant agony. He contemplated the unwieldy British political landscape. "Eight former Prime Ministers, countless nobles, a chaotic confluence of factions vying for power – the Senate is a maelstrom of competing interests, a far cry from the House's relative simplicity and order." Alice's query regarding William IV was unexpected. "How fares the ex-King?" she inquired, her tone suggesting a hidden agenda. Palmerston chuckled, his gaze lingering on Crown Prince Edward. "William IV, a man of surprising depth. His literary prowess is known only to a select few. Years ago, a theatrical masterpiece of his astounded all of Europe." Alice's sharp intake of breath hinted at a shrewd guess. Helena, equally perceptive, mirrored her unspoken anticipation. The intensity of their gazes was palpable. Palmerston observed them all, but Princess Louise's enigmatic composure remained impenetrable. Did she already possess the answer?

"'The Drama of a Dream'," Palmerston declared. The revelation hung in the air, a weight settling upon them. Louise, outwardly calm, felt an inner tempest rage. The play, a ubiquitous phenomenon across Europe, had moved millions to tears. They had all witnessed its poignant beauty, memorized its haunting lines: Alice whispered, her voice trembling, "The world's allure, merely a prelude to profound suffering…a shattered dream unveiling a cruel conspiracy. Anger born of compassion... humanity's plight." The play's desolate angel, unable to cleanse the world's depravity, ultimately immolated herself, a sacrifice that highlighted the crushing weight of human suffering. Only a select few, the play implied, possessed true divinity. The gravity of the moment pressed upon Alice. She was in Amsterdam, a stone's throw from the Dutch National Concert Hall where Louise's wedding was imminent. Palmerston, recognizing the need for repose, knew they must rest

….....

Amsterdam's luxury hotels overflowed with guests, drawn by the spectacle of the royal gathering. A hushed excitement rippled through the crowd. "Observe," someone whispered, "the Swedish Prince, fourth son of King Carl XV – a notorious playboy, indifferent to affairs of state, preferring the company of his brother Oscar, who, unlike him, actively assisted their father in governing Norway." A collective intake of breath followed the sighting of another flag. "The Tsarist Russian Empire," a voice murmured, awestruck. "A colossus among European powers, its land dominance unparalleled. Even Napoleon's formidable army was utterly routed in Moscow, a humiliating retreat that irrevocably cemented Russia's supremacy. Their representatives, Crown Prince Nicholas and Prince Alexander, have arrived. The Empire's formidable influence promises to secure the hand of any desired bride." Then, another pointed exclamation…