SGB Chapter 265

## Chapter 265: Golf and Censorship (6K2)

Golf, an ancient sport dating back to the 15th century, has been deeply rooted in the small island of Britain for a long time.

However, the sport first gained popularity not in England, but in Scotland.

Initially, it was simply a variation of a hockey-like game called “Chole” that originated in Flanders, Belgium.

This simple game, requiring only a stick, a ball, and a few mole holes, quickly gained popularity in Scotland. Within a few years, it had become a national pastime for everyone from noble clergymen to ordinary people.

Perhaps due to the vast expanse of Scottish land and the sparse population, after a period of evolution, the Scottish people, in their playful spirit, were no longer content with playing Chole in a small area. They naturally expanded the game to the surrounding pastures and farmlands. Natural obstacles like wheat fields and ponds, though adding difficulty to the game, also enhanced its enjoyment.

After that, they gave Chole a formal English name: Golf.

But while the people were having fun, the King of Scotland was not.

All the nobles and commoners in the country were obsessed with playing golf and football, neglecting even archery practice. If the English from the south were to attack, what would they do? Would they use a golf club to knock them into a hole, or kick them through the door?

Deeply concerned that the country might face a national defense crisis, His Majesty the King finally made a decision that went against the will of the entire nation.

In 1457, after consulting with Parliament, King James II of Scotland issued a Royal Proclamation, officially banning golf and football throughout the country.

Although the Royal Proclamation stated this, its actual effect was equivalent to banning mahjong in China.

The Scottish people played golf, even God couldn’t control them, how could the King have any say in the matter?

Thus, this proclamation, after being issued for half a century, was finally repealed in 1502.

The reason for its repeal was simple: the new King, James IV, the grandson of James II, was himself a golf enthusiast. The first thing he did after taking office was to go straight to the Perth archery workshop and order two top-quality golf clubs.

In 1553, one of the two leading figures in the Scottish religious community, the Archbishop of St. Andrews, who had jurisdiction over four dioceses: Aberdeen, Dunkeld, Galloway, and Argyll and the Isles, also issued a decree, allowing local residents to play golf in St. Andrews.

However, the Archbishop of St. Andrews probably didn’t realize the consequences of his decree. For a long time afterwards, the church discovered that a group of people would often sneak out to play golf during Sunday sermons.

Because of this, the city of Edinburgh even had to impose a rule strictly forbidding people from playing golf during Sunday sermons.

In 1603, when England and Scotland formally merged to form the Kingdom of Great Britain, the first British King, James I, naturally brought his habit of playing golf from Scotland to England.

The Blackheath golf course, which Arthur and his companions were visiting today, was established by this first British King in 1608.

Thanks to this King’s love for golf and the decree he issued in 1618—that the right of British people to play golf on Sundays was inherent—Arthur and his companions could go out to play without checking the calendar or being reprimanded by clergymen.

Arthur stepped out of the wooden shed in the preparation area of the golf course, unbuttoning his tailcoat to reveal the white shirt and breeches he wore underneath. He shielded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sun hidden behind the clouds in the sky.

Next to him stood an ancient locust tree, its age unknown. Beneath his feet was a lush green lawn. In the distance lay a green and a pond, not far from the pond, separated by a moat and embankment, was a small river, with a wooden bridge across it. Occasionally, a few officers in Royal Navy uniforms could be seen riding past.

Under the trees on the green, a few gentlemen could occasionally be seen sitting under the trees, looking up at the sky with worried faces, as if waiting for apples.

It was not surprising to see the Royal Navy here, as the Royal Naval College, which Eldred had taken Arthur to visit, was located at the northernmost point of the golf course.

As for those gentlemen under the trees, Arthur speculated that they were most likely employees of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich.

The Royal Observatory, like the golf course, was located within Blackheath Park, a short walk away. As for why these gentlemen were so gloomy, Arthur thought it was probably related to the director of the Royal Observatory, George Airy.

Working under that arrogant, jealous, narrow-minded, and old-fashioned scholar was a headache just thinking about it.

Even in the field of electromagnetism, which had nothing to do with Airy, he would launch into a tirade against Arthur and Faraday’s new ideas. It would be even worse to be around this astronomical tyrant every day.

But this tyrant was not without merit. In Arthur’s opinion, besides being one of Cambridge’s best mathematicians and a brilliant astronomer, his most outstanding achievement was designing those glasses that corrected astigmatism.

Arthur put his golf club on his back and stretched, then casually swung the club a few times in the air. As a skilled swordsman, he quickly found the center of gravity of the club. Just as he was thinking about finding a ball to try, he heard Lionel Rothschild’s voice behind him.

Lionel saw through his intention to knock the ball high and far with one swing, and said with a smile, “Arthur, this is not cricket, you have to lower the club a bit. But if you really want to hit it a couple of times, I’ll organize a game later, are you free next Saturday?”

“Next Saturday?”

Arthur pondered for a moment, “It’s hard to say. Lionel, you know, Parliament might be dissolved, anything urgent could happen in between, I don’t want to stand you up.”

“Then we’ll talk about it when you’re free.”

With that, Lionel beckoned to the caddy beside him, motioning for him to bring over the golf bag. He pulled out a club from it and threw it towards Arthur, “Try this one, American walnut wood club, it’s much easier to use than the one you have. The best wood in Britain has been taken by the Royal Navy for shipbuilding, the wood used for golf clubs is all second-rate.”

Arthur took the club and swung it a couple of times, creating a gust of wind, “It does seem stronger than the one I have.”

Lionel leaned in with a smile, “I say, Arthur, Blackheath plays by the ‘St. Andrews Rules’, is Mr. Talleyrand familiar with them?”

“It doesn’t matter what rules we play, Mr. Talleyrand and I are both beginners. You’ll have to let him off easy, he had a run-in with the Foreign Office today and isn’t in a good mood, he was even muttering about wanting to win my money on the carriage ride over.”

Lionel just tapped Arthur’s shoulder lightly, smiling, “Arthur, what are you saying? I won’t let Mr. Talleyrand off easy. If I lose, it’s simply because Mr. Talleyrand is talented. A brilliant diplomat who can navigate the European stage, it’s only natural for him to have some talent for golf, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur pursed his lips, took an apple from his pocket and took a bite, “There must be a reason why Rothschild’s business is so successful!”

Lionel was taken aback by the sudden apple, “Where did you get this apple?”

Arthur pointed his head towards the green, “Don’t we have resources? Freshly picked. Do you want to try it? I have another one in my pocket, it’s fresher than the Newton’s special in Jermyn Street.”

“This…” Lionel said with a wry smile, “Maybe you should save it for Mr. Talleyrand, he met a few acquaintances at the entrance of the golf course, it’ll be a while before he gets here.”

Agareus, who was squatting on the locust tree munching on an apple, spat out an apple peel and said, “You stupid little Jew, what’s the big deal about eating a couple of rotten apples? When I was chewing on golden apples, your ancestors hadn’t even crossed the Red Sea!”

But Lionel obviously didn’t notice the devil’s foul language. With Talleyrand away, he had something he wanted to discuss with Arthur.

Lionel dismissed the caddy and said with a smile, “Actually, I met Mr. Talleyrand a few years ago, but he probably doesn’t remember.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Arthur thought for a moment, “I almost forgot, your family’s business in Paris is run by your uncle, James Rothschild, right?”

Lionel smiled and replied, “That’s right. I was studying in Paris at the time, and my Uncle James wanted to take me to see the world. When he went to the Tuileries Palace to see Charles X, the one who took your house in Regent’s Crescent, to discuss the issuance of French bonds, he took me along.

I was young at the time, and I didn’t dare say anything along the way. My uncle just introduced me to all the big names in the French court, Prince Polignac, Prince Condé, and Lafayette. As he was introducing me, I suddenly saw an old cripple walking out of the court. After he walked away, I heard from others that he was the famous Talleyrand.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows and asked, “Really? How did they describe him?”

Lionel scratched his chin, “They said a lot of things. On the good side, they said Mr. Talleyrand was considered a Voltairean figure, humorous and witty, always spitting out a few classic quotes that were worth remembering for a long time and made the audience willing to pay for them.

As for the bad side, it’s just the usual clichés, like: France’s misfortune is that it gave birth to a man like Talleyrand, who lacked even the most basic moral character. And the even more unfortunate thing is that the results France obtained at the Congress of Vienna were actually achieved by such a man.”

Arthur wrapped the apple core in his handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket, “If the French all think that way, it’s a bit unfair. I don’t know Mr. Talleyrand that well, but I think the reason he doesn’t care about morality is because he was born in France.

In the era in which he grew up, there was only one true morality in France, and that was the King’s whims. No matter how many bad things you did, as long as the King smiled at you, you were a moral gentleman. If the King kicked you into the Bastille, even if you did a lot of good things, you were definitely a hypocrite.

Therefore, Mr. Talleyrand doesn’t care what others think of him. He doesn’t just not care, he doesn’t even bother to hide his various misdeeds. Not only him, even Vidocq, the head of the security department of the Paris Police Prefecture that I know, is like that. They call this style of behavior ‘actively remaining silent.’

Whether during the reign of Louis XVI, the Revolution, or when Napoleon became Emperor, this style of behavior helped them survive unscathed in the political arena. As for those who talk a big game, if you put them in the same period, let alone changing their allegiances six times, they would probably end up on the guillotine sooner than Louis XVI.”

Lionel couldn’t help but smile meaningfully at these words, he took out his cigar case from his pocket and gently flicked it open, “Arthur, I didn’t expect you to share the same opinion as my Uncle James, I thought all young people like us were full of dreams.”

Arthur reached out and pulled a cigar from the case, lighting it, “Young people do love to dream, so if you can wake up earlier than your peers, you’ll easily gain an advantage. You can spend less time dreaming and learn some useful skills or knowledge, although these skills and knowledge may seem insignificant compared to the natural advantages of some people.”

Lionel smiled slightly, “But it’s better than nothing.”

Arthur nodded gently, “That’s right, at least you’ve got a head start.”

Lionel suddenly changed the subject, “Speaking of which, Arthur, I just found out about a list of young people who love to dream, are you interested in helping them get rid of their useless and harmful fantasies and do something practical?”

“Huh?”

Arthur sensed something amiss from Lionel’s words, he kept his mouth half open, letting the cigar smoke swirl around his lips, “Isn’t the order of the City of Finance maintained by the security team hired by the City of Finance Autonomous Group at great expense? The police force in your area is much richer than the metropolitan area, and Scotland Yard can’t reach there either.”

“No, no, no, Arthur, you’re wrong.” Lionel laughed, “I’m not talking about physical attacks and destruction, but about attacking Rothschild in the realm of public opinion and the spirit.”

“Public opinion and the spirit?”

Arthur didn’t intend to agree to his friend’s request directly, but chose to continue to beat around the bush, “Lionel, didn’t Rothschild just buy a large stake in The Times this year? I don’t think there’s any newspaper in Britain that can overshadow The Times in terms of public opinion. Even our The Englishman, whose sales have recently skyrocketed, relies on the marriage ads published in The Times.”

Seeing that Arthur still wouldn’t give in, Lionel tentatively threw him a bait, “Arthur, I remember you like literature and philosophy.”

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have started The Englishman.” Arthur said calmly, taking a puff on his cigar, “Lionel, you know, literature is my dream, just like playing the piano.”

Lionel asked with a smile, “Do you also read literary review magazines like Blackwood’s when you’re not writing? The article reprinted from a French newspaper in the last few issues of Blackwood’s was exceptionally good.”

Arthur heard this and immediately remembered the article, “You mean the one about Ludwig Börne and Heine’s Paris debate? That one was really good. Although I don’t fully agree with Mr. Börne’s point of view, I have to applaud his creative use of metaphors.”

Lionel couldn’t help but laugh out loud, “That’s right, after all, besides Börne, probably no one else would call Goethe of Weimar ‘a rhyming servant.'”

Arthur half-jokingly said, “That’s better than Hegel of Württemberg, after all, in Börne’s mouth, Hegel is ‘a non-rhyming servant.'”

Lionel nodded, “But he was still merciful in his assessment of Heine, he just compared Heine to ‘a servant of aestheticism.'”

The Red Devil, lying on his side on the locust tree, picked his ears with a tree branch and frowned, “They’re all servants? Arthur, is this Börne a Spartan who lived in ancient Greece?”

Lionel laughed and said, “But aside from Goethe and Hegel. Regarding the description of Heine, I think Börne was right. As he said in the article: To shake off one illusion is more enlightening than to discover a truth. Arthur, you police officers are always so realistic and rational, Mr. Börne’s insightful view is probably related to his early years as a police clerk. I think Mr. Heine is now reluctant to shake off his own illusions.

Look at what he’s writing, yet he wants to publish it all in Britain. Although Britain has now achieved a degree of freedom of the press, at least in the field of book censorship, it’s still necessary to respect the facts, right?”

Arthur took the yellowed manuscript from Lionel’s hand and glanced at it, immediately understanding why Rothschild was so enraged by it.

People of all Europe, look before you, Rothschild I, Wellington, Metternich, and the Pope have joined hands to form a wall against freedom.

These Rothschilds have been playing the same game all along, their goal is to amass wealth. Bankers are the greatest enemies of the state, they do more damage to the foundations of freedom than anyone else. There is no doubt that if Rothschild had not provided financial support to those despots, most Europeans would be enjoying complete freedom by now.

Although the Rothschild family has not yet seized the crown, when a throne is vacant, they will provide advice from all angles and choose a new king.

The July Revolution in France? It was just a self-indulgent joke!

If Louis-Philippe is still King of France in a year, he will be able to crown himself!

Not in the Cathedral of St. Remy in Reims, but in the Cathedral of Notre Dame in the Paris Stock Exchange!

Rothschild will serve as the Archbishop of the ceremony. After the coronation, pigeons will be released as usual, one of which will fly to St. Helena and land on Napoleon’s grave, then mockingly say to his remains, they saw his heir crowned yesterday, but not anointed by the Pope, but anointed by a Jew. Moreover, the current ruler of France has been given a title, 5% for Emperor, 3% for King, the rest for the protector of bankers and traders!

Arthur saw this manuscript, his mouth couldn’t help but twitch, he took a deep breath and asked, “If I remember correctly, isn’t Mr. Heine also a Jew? Even if he dislikes Rothschild, there’s no need to humiliate the Jewish identity in the last paragraph, is there?”

Lionel shook his head slightly, “No, the last paragraph wasn’t written by Heine, but by his friend, Mr. Börne.”

Arthur exhaled a puff of smoke, “Are you sure? Would a friend make fun of Mr. Heine’s ethnicity?”

“Absolutely sure.”

Lionel nodded with a complex expression, “Because Mr. Börne is also a Jew, and he was born in the Jewish quarter of Frankfurt. My grandfather came from there. Even now, we often go back to our ancestral home in Frankfurt for family meetings. I don’t understand what they’re thinking, of the two, Heine doesn’t know what he’s rebelling against. And Börne is even worse, he’s a German nationalist, even though he’s a Jew.”

“Jewish German nationalist?”

Arthur covered his mouth and took a deep breath, “嘶… I didn’t even know these three things could be put together, it’s really… very imaginative. Mr. Heine is at most just a young man’s confusion, but Mr. Börne is crazy, and he’s very sick.”

“That’s right.”

Lionel said with a wry smile, “As a Jew who came from Frankfurt, doesn’t he understand where the worst anti-Semitism in all of Europe is? The German Confederation! Jews in Britain have few rights, but what we get here is far more than we could get in Germany. Arthur, I don’t ask you to stop this book from being published, but if possible, I ask you to talk to them both under the guise of censorship.”

Arthur frowned and asked, “According to the article in Blackwood’s, isn’t Mr. Heine in Paris now?”

“That’s right, Heine is still in Paris.” Lionel said, “But Börne is in London now, and Heine will come to London to talk to him about publishing the English edition of this ‘Travel Sketches’ soon.”

“Then…” Arthur paused, “How do you know this?”

Lionel smiled slightly and took a letter from his upper pocket, “Arthur, I have to remind you, if you want to send a letter, don’t use the British Post Office, not only is it slow, it’s also easy to lose. Besides, Rothschild’s postal courier service is the best in all of Europe.”

Arthur understood, he extinguished his cigar and ground it out with his toes, “It’s a pity that Rothschild is still not very good at confidentiality…”

(End of Chapter)