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Chapter 1155: An Eighteenth-Century House of Cards

William Pitt Junior remained cautious, offering no direct response to Grenville's suggestion regarding the formation of a new cabinet.

That evening, as the outgoing Prime Minister dragged his exhausted body home, his mind was still consumed by the conflict between Duncan and Jervis. He was met at the door by his wife, Anna, who helped him off with his coat.

"I encountered Lady Melville at the charity auction today," she remarked. "As you know, we don't usually move in the same circles."

Grenville's political instincts immediately flared. Lord Melville had served as Home Secretary and as the Navy Board's Comptroller of Storekeepers, and he currently presided over the Board of Control for India. He was, without question, a man of immense power in the political arena.

"What did she say to you?" he asked urgently.

"Oh, the usual—the weather, the latest fashions," Anna recalled. "But she did mention a new battleship, the 'Prince,' currently under construction at the Portsmouth shipyard. Apparently, it incorporates a wealth of new technology—something about the rigging and sails. Even the smallest cannons are 24-pounders..."

The fog in Grenville's mind suddenly cleared.

He had long wondered why Lord Duncan had launched such a fierce assault on the Chatham Dockyard, given that Duncan was technically a subordinate of Admiral Jervis.

Now it was clear: Duncan was working for Lord Melville. Melville possessed the seniority and the resume to serve as First Lord of the Admiralty; he just needed Jervis to vacate the seat.

Grenville nodded slowly.

The message was unmistakable. The Temple family wielded extraordinary influence in British politics. With a vote of no confidence looming over him, securing the support of such a dynasty would almost certainly guarantee his survival.

However, the problems he faced went far beyond a single vote. Even if he remained Prime Minister, his ability to govern effectively had been gutted.

He took his wife's hands and sat her down, speaking with gravity. "You must see Lady Melville tomorrow. Tell her that the embezzlement case will be investigated to the fullest extent. However, tell her I have decided to support your cousin. I hope the other Members of Parliament will follow suit."

Anna's maiden name, after all, was Pitt.

...

By the time Sir Hope's body was fished out of the River Thames, it was already bloated and distorted beyond recognition.

Inside his pocket, police discovered a suicide note wrapped in oilcloth. In it, he confessed to massive embezzlement of shipyard funds, claiming his corruption had led to the failures of the steam warship project. He took sole responsibility for everything.

Boulton, Watt, and Faulkner were promptly arrested, and their company was shuttered by the Navy Board.

Inside the banquet hall of the Navy Board, Jervis stared with a dark, brooding expression at Lord Duncan. "What is it you truly want? Hope is dead. It is over."

Duncan produced a slip of paper and pushed it across the table toward Jervis's teacup. "Since the beginning of the year, I have commissioned Lloyd's of London to investigate the Chatham Dockyard. These are the accounts involving you."

In truth, Lloyd's had found very little evidence on their own. However, they had recently received an anonymous letter detailing a massive trail of illicit funds tied to the Chatham Dockyard.

Back when the Boulton-Watt Company was "collaborating" with the shipyard, Frank had frequently taken the initiative to help them bribe Jervis or Middleton. Sir Hope had even been grateful for the assistance.

Now, those secret ledgers had been handed over to Lloyd's by the French Security Bureau.

Jervis froze for several seconds, his face twisting into a silent snarl. "State your conditions," he hissed through gritted teeth.

Duncan nodded. "First, you will petition the Naval Committee for the funds to commission eight new ships of the line from the Portsmouth shipyard."

Portsmouth was Lord Melville's sphere of influence. Securing those funds would require Jervis to burn through his remaining political capital.

On the surface, this appeared to be a strategic debate within the British Navy—whether to improve traditional sailing ships of the line or build new steam-powered ones. In reality, it was a brutal tug-of-war over the direction of government spending.

"Second, you will take full responsibility for the disastrous defeat in the Mediterranean and resign as First Lord of the Admiralty."

Duncan offered a thin, courteous smile. "In exchange, the matter of the Chatham Dockyard will have nothing to do with you. You can take a comfortable sinecure on the Naval Committee and live out the rest of your days in peace."

...

A court official bowed deeply to William Pitt Junior. "Mr. Pitt, His Majesty the King requests your presence at St James's Palace."

Pitt hesitated, surprised. "Did you say St James's Palace? Not Windsor Castle?"

"Yes, Mr. Pitt. His Majesty has recovered. He returned to St James's Palace two days ago."

The official leaned in and whispered, "The Prince of Wales has been sent away to Buckingham Palace. Sir Stuart asked me to inform you that His Majesty intends to entrust you with a heavy responsibility."

The Prince of Wales was the eldest son of George III and the heir to the British throne. Two years prior, when George III's porphyria had flared up, the Prince had begun governing as Prince Regent.

George III, however, harbored a deep loathing for his son. The moment his health improved, he had unceremoniously kicked the Prince out to Buckingham Palace, which was typically reserved for the Queen's residence.

The Prince of Wales supported the Whig Party; he was the primary patron behind Fox.

George III, on the other hand, was a staunch supporter of Pitt. As soon as he was lucid, he had called for him.

That night, William Pitt Junior left St James's Palace with a somber expression.

A few hours ago, the King had informed him that he had decided to accept Grenville's resignation. Parliament would be dissolved next month for a general election, and the King wanted Pitt to step forward and form a new cabinet.

Technically, Grenville was a Whig, while Pitt led the Tories. To serve as Prime Minister again, a new election was a constitutional necessity.

Faced with the King's earnest plea, Pitt could only accept.

The helm of the empire was back in his hands. Yet, for a man who had always been defined by his confidence, he felt a sudden, gnawing doubt that he could steer this ship out of the gathering storm.

Sir Stuart accompanied him all the way to the palace gates, giving him a supportive, fatherly embrace.

Pitt returned the gesture with a reassuring smile, then turned and stepped out into the relentless rain.

Wiping the water from his face, his mind was already racing, calculating how to defeat Fox in the coming election.

First, he had to court the Catholic vote; they numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Second, he needed to push for the abolition of the 'Rotten Boroughs' and grant parliamentary seats to rising industrial cities like Manchester. These 'Rotten Boroughs' were a relic of the Glorious Revolution and the Middle Ages.

After centuries of demographic shifts, over fifty of these constituencies had populations of fewer than two thousand people. One, the Dunwich constituency, had literally sunk into the North Sea.

If he could empower the new industrial cities, they would become his stronghold. To achieve this, he would need Grenville's cooperation.

But what Pitt did not expect was just how smoothly the election would go.

First, internal strife within the Whig Party split their vote. Then, the Temple family threw their full, formidable weight behind him.