SGB Chapter 266

## Chapter 266: Flowers, Swords, Poland, and France (6K4)

A powerful swing of the club, followed by a resounding *thwack*. The leather golf ball soared high into the air, disappearing beyond the green.

Lionel shielded his eyes with his hand and peered into the distance, a smile spreading across his face. “Mr. Talleyrand, is this truly your first time playing golf? To possess such skill on your first drive is truly unbelievable.”

Talleyrand tossed his club lightly into the air, catching it mid-flight with a flourish. He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and turned to Arthur. “Young man, it’s your turn.”

Arthur nodded, taking the club and feeling the distance between his arm and the grip. He swung with a burst of force, but just before the club reached the ball, he effortlessly released the power.

The golf ball, as if caught by a gentle breeze, plopped onto the ground with a soft *thud*.

“Ah,” Arthur feigned surprise, then looked up at Talleyrand. “My hand slipped.”

Talleyrand burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Come now, Arthur, this isn’t a social gathering. Don’t try to play such a ridiculous joke on me.”

Lionel, standing nearby with his experience in swordsmanship and combat, noticed something in Arthur’s movements.

He inhaled sharply, then shook his head with a smile. “Arthur, I shouldn’t have asked you to play golf. That level of power control, I dare say, is unmatched by anyone in the London Fencing Club. How about I take you there sometime to spar with them?”

Talleyrand, upon hearing this, slapped his forehead. “Oh! I forgot. I remember reading in the newspaper the other day about ‘Napoleon of the Foil’ wreaking havoc in London. Arthur, are you not going to defend your British fencing glory?”

“Napoleon of the Foil?” Arthur picked up the golf ball and placed it back on the tee. “Why are all the recent nicknames so uninspired? Napoleon of Perfume, Napoleon of Tailoring, and we even have a Napoleon of Astronomy sitting in the Royal Observatory behind us. If it weren’t for Napoleon, London’s media would probably lose half of its news coverage.”

Lionel joked, “It’s not all Napoleon, you know. You were called ‘Wellington of Scotland Yard’ by *The Times*.”

Arthur pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the club. “That was probably your idea, wasn’t it? After all, Rothschild invested a lot of money in *The Times*. But I wonder how Duke Wellington himself would feel about *The Times* calling me that.”

“How would he feel?” Talleyrand leaned on his club and chuckled. “I had dinner with Wellington just the other day, and he didn’t mind you using his name. After all, he has a new nickname now. Londoners call him ‘The Iron Duke,’ don’t they?”

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Talleyrand urged, “Kid, I say, why don’t you issue a challenge to Napoleon of the Foil? I heard he can take on seventeen pirates single-handedly. If you can also defeat Napoleon of the Foil, then you’ll have another nickname, ‘Wellington of the Foil.'”

Arthur simply sighed. “My lord, are you bored out of your mind these days?”

“That’s right, you guessed it,” Talleyrand said, chuckling. “Didn’t you say earlier that the Oxford-Cambridge Thames Boat Race is at the end of March, the Derby is in June, and the Running of the Bulls is now being stifled by taxes? And you, as a Scotland Yard policeman, despise large boxing matches. So, if you, Wellington of the Foil, don’t step up, the British sporting calendar for the rest of the year will be utterly bleak.”

Arthur, remembering Talleyrand’s schedule for the morning, casually asked, “If I’m not mistaken, Britain and France are currently at odds over the Polish issue. You even went to the Foreign Office this morning. Did you solve the issue that concerns the lives of millions of Poles in just one morning?”

Talleyrand shook his head with a smile. “Not solved, but it’s unsolvable. Since it’s already unsolvable, why bother spending so much effort on it? Arthur, let me tell you, your new Foreign Secretary, Viscount Palmerston, will regret the answer he gave me today. If I had spoken to the unfortunate Viscount Castlereagh today, he would never have been so resolute. It’s a pity, such an outstanding figure as Castlereagh, why would he choose to end his own life?”

Arthur quickly interrupted. “My lord, while I don’t want to oppose your opinion, for the sake of justice and Viscount Castlereagh’s honor, I must correct your point. He didn’t commit suicide, but was mentally unstable and couldn’t control his impulsive act. I remember you were a bishop once. How could you make such a mistake?”

Talleyrand, taken aback, burst into laughter. “Oh! I almost forgot. Suicide, in the eyes of the church and British law, is a sin that cannot be forgiven. How does the law state it? For a successful suicide, the deceased’s heart must be pierced with a wooden stake. For an attempted suicide, the perpetrator is to be hanged. Those two laws haven’t been abolished yet, have they?”

Arthur replied in a serious tone, “The first one was abolished by Sir Robert Peel, but the second one is still being debated and studied by the Court of the Lord Chancellor.”

Talleyrand nodded slightly. “So, it seems Peel is doing a good job. At least he knows how to look at things from a sporting perspective, which is much better than Palmerston.”

Lionel, upon hearing this, his eyes widened slightly, and he asked with a smile, “Viscount Palmerston had a disagreement with you?”

Talleyrand glanced at Lionel, seemingly nonchalant. “If he could learn to converse with foreign envoys with a respectful attitude, I believe he could do better at the Foreign Office. Or, at least, I hope he can show the same respect for France as he does for Russia.”

Agareus, lounging on the locust tree munching on an apple, couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “One wants to hear, the other wants to speak. But they’re both being coy and half-hearted. It’s so tedious, like a bunch of women.”

Arthur, upon hearing this, just glanced at the Red Devil. “Agareus, I understand your complaints, but we humans call it diplomacy.”

Lionel followed up, pressing Talleyrand. “What did he say to you?”

Talleyrand coughed twice, imitating Palmerston’s formal and serious tone. “I believe that even if Britain were to intervene in the Polish issue amicably, it would be rejected by Russia. Moreover, the major powers have recently rejected France’s proposal to intervene in the Polish issue.

Given that amicable mediation will be rejected by Russia, any British and French intervention in the Polish issue can only be forceful. However, the close partnership between St. James’s Palace and St. Petersburg does not allow the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland to engage in such intervention.

Furthermore, Russia’s right to Poland has been affirmed in the Vienna Treaty. And I am also quite certain that the current Tsar of Russia is a strong and powerful monarch. Therefore, for Britain and France to take military action against a strong monarch with an undeniable right, it is currently far from an opportune time.”

Arthur, upon hearing this, finally understood why Talleyrand was unhappy.

While Palmerston’s words seemed well-reasoned at first glance, upon closer examination, there wasn’t a single logical point.

Firstly, based on recent news reports, not all major powers have refused to intervene in the Polish issue.

For example, Austrian Chancellor Metternich, who once stood in the same trench as the Russians on the issue of Belgian independence, was growing restless about Poland.

Austria’s reluctance to let Belgium secede from the Netherlands was because the Austrians wanted to use a complete and powerful Netherlands to hinder France’s eastward expansion. Similarly, Austria didn’t want the Russians to swallow Poland whole, but hoped Poland would serve as a buffer between Austria and Russia.

Therefore, Palmerston was lying in his first statement.

In his second statement, he deliberately escalated the intervention to military intervention, essentially threatening the French to either not intervene or fight Russia. And if France were to go to war with Russia, Britain would not provide any form of assistance.

The third statement, about the Vienna Treaty, directly exposed his shameless audacity. In the Vienna Treaty, Russia’s possession of Poland was conditional, namely that Russia must respect Poland’s 1815 Constitution. The reason France and Austria wanted to intervene in Poland was precisely because this condition no longer existed.

Lionel, after listening to this, was astonished. “This… this is really what Viscount Palmerston said? I was already surprised that he didn’t actively seek trouble with the Russians, but if we infer from these words, he’s simply selling out Poland without seeking any compensation from Russia? This doesn’t align with everyone’s impression of him. He’s always presented a tough image since entering politics!”

Arthur simply muttered, “Lionel, that just shows how little you know about Viscount Palmerston. He’s always been tough on the weak, but when it comes to strong enemies, his attitude can be summed up by a speech he gave in Parliament years ago.”

Talleyrand, intrigued, asked, “What did he say in Parliament?”

Arthur replied, “Someone wants us to make threats during negotiations, regardless of the fact that we are not prepared for war if negotiations fail. If we always talk about war but actually want neutrality, if we threaten with our army but hide behind official documents, if we only brandish our swords in a provocative manner when discussing issues, but grab our pens to write protests when it comes to fighting, then we become boastful cowards. This will not only be despised by the whole of Europe and become an object of their ridicule, but no one will take our words seriously in the future.”

Talleyrand pondered for a moment, then asked, “When was that speech?”

Arthur rubbed his temples. “If the archives are correct, it should be 1823, when France, commissioned by the Holy Alliance, sent troops to intervene in the Spanish revolution. At that time, many liberal members of Parliament believed that Britain should immediately launch a crusade to defend progressive liberty and send troops to aid the revolutionary constitutional government of Spain.

Then, Viscount Palmerston gave the aforementioned speech in Parliament, strongly opposing this action, which he considered ‘a Don Quixote-style crusade for abstract principles.’ Because, in his view, this action was neither economical nor realistic, and it would also risk offending most of Europe.”

Talleyrand, upon hearing this, suddenly chuckled. “If that’s the case, I can understand why he made such a statement today. I understand he doesn’t want to take risks, and he doesn’t squeeze soft persimmon. But I can also clearly say this: he will regret condoning the Russians’ actions sooner or later.

Look at Greece. Because Britain tolerated the Russians in the Russo-Turkish War and the Greek War of Independence, and even allowed Codrington to completely destroy the Ottoman navy, the Russians now have a stronger presence in Greece than France, and even Britain can’t touch their backside.

Don’t forget, that Greek president, Capodistrias, was once the head of the Russian Foreign Ministry and a negotiator for Russia at the Congress of Vienna.”

Arthur, upon hearing this, simply said calmly, “Regarding Mr. Capodistrias, there will be someone else responsible for that.”

Talleyrand’s expression suddenly changed. He raised an eyebrow. “Kid, does Scotland Yard handle this kind of thing? I always thought your jurisdiction was limited to London.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur swung his club, sending the golf ball soaring into the sky. “But I also occasionally go to the Royal Navy’s Geographic Information and Topographic Data Statistics Department and the Army’s Ordnance Survey. I sometimes hear some interesting things from their mouths.”

“Oh…”

Talleyrand, who understood the implications of those two names, couldn’t help but look at the young man in front of him with renewed respect. “What do you talk to them about?”

Arthur bit his white glove and took it off. “Nothing much, just exchanging information about reptile specimens.”

“Reptile specimens?” Lionel was baffled. “Shouldn’t you go to the Linnaean Society for that? When I was looking for specimens for the Duke of Sussex, I usually went there.”

Arthur looked at him. “Lionel, the Linnaean Society’s specimens are for civilian use. I’m talking about police and military specimens.”

Talleyrand, with a serious expression, patted Arthur on the shoulder. “Then do you know who’s handling the specimens this time?”

Arthur simply sighed. “My lord, you should know this better than I do. The craftsmanship of the natives in the specimen’s origin is the best.”

Talleyrand chuckled. “It seems you know a lot, kid.”

Lionel, hearing this, felt something was amiss. He had a feeling that the old man and the young man were using some kind of code to communicate.

After thinking for a while, he decided not to ask for now.

If Rothschild wanted to know what was happening in Greece, he could just send a few messengers to Athens, and he would receive a detailed written report in a few days.

He patted Arthur on the back and said with a smile, “We’ve been talking about all sorts of useless things, and we’ve almost forgotten our real business. We’re here to play golf today, not to discuss reptile specimens. Come on, Arthur, where did you hit your ball just now?”

Arthur simply shook his head, glancing at Agareus squatting on the tree, clapping his legs and laughing hysterically. “It depends on where the crow flew.”

Talleyrand frowned. “Crow?”

The caddie standing nearby chimed in, “Yes, sir. Mr. Hastings’ ball was snatched by a crow that flew over the course.”

“Snatched?” Lionel slapped his forehead, exclaiming, “My God! Does the *St. Andrews Rules* mention how to penalize a ball snatched by a crow?”

“Uh…” The caddie was embarrassed. “The rules state: If a ball is obstructed by any person, horse, dog, or other objects, it should be played from where it lies. But a ball being snatched by a crow, that’s probably a first in hundreds of years. Perhaps I should suggest adding this to the next revision of the *St. Andrews Rules*.”

Lionel questioned, “Can you suggest rule revisions to the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews?”

The caddie, upon hearing this, was quite displeased. “Sir, I am the head caddie at St. Andrews. Besides, I am the best golfer in all of Scotland, even in all of Britain. I was actually here for an exhibition match. If I hadn’t heard that three distinguished guests were visiting today, and two of them were beginners, I wouldn’t have been temporarily assigned to provide instruction to you gentlemen.”

Talleyrand also quipped, “Young man, you’re really the best golfer in Scotland? I see you’re only sixteen or seventeen years old. Don’t let your tongue slip with your boasting.”

The caddie didn’t care who Talleyrand was. On the golf course, he was the king.

The caddie said, “If you don’t believe me, why don’t we have a match? If I lose, I’ll pay for your club membership this year. But if I win, I won’t bully a beginner like you. Just call me ‘Napoleon of the Golf Course’ on the course.”

“Another Napoleon, hahaha, that’s interesting,” Talleyrand laughed. “May I have the honor of knowing the name of the best golfer in Scotland?”

The caddie took a club from his bag and weighed it in his hands. “Alan Robertson, my lord. Don’t blame me for not reminding you, no one has ever defeated me on the course.”

“Alright then, Mr. Robertson, where shall we start?”

“My lord, we’ll play eighteen holes according to the rules. I’ll give you a three-stroke handicap. As for the initial tee-off location, you can choose anywhere you like.”

Talleyrand, having found a strong opponent, couldn’t help but feel a competitive spirit.

He raised his hand to bid farewell to Arthur and Lionel. “Gentlemen, this kid is so arrogant. It would be unmanly not to accept his challenge. By the way, Arthur, don’t forget to save me a ticket.”

“Save a ticket?” Arthur frowned. “What ticket?”

Talleyrand, turning his head towards Arthur as he walked away, waved his hand. “What else could it be? A ticket to your duel with Napoleon of the Foil. Arthur, don’t say that your friend isn’t supporting you. Even though Napoleon of the Foil is French, I’ll definitely bet all my money on you. You wouldn’t let this old man with a meager income lose a fortune, would you?”

Arthur watched Talleyrand walk further and further away, then lit his cigar. “Mr. Talleyrand is really efficient. He says what he needs to say and doesn’t want to stay around for a moment longer.”

Lionel also nodded slightly. “It seems those conversations he had with Viscount Palmerston were deliberately leaked to us. He’s still not giving up on the Polish issue. He also knows that Rothschild is now siding with the Whigs, and you can get to the Home Secretary, the Lord Chancellor, and the Tories. It’s more effective for us to say those things than for him to relay them himself, because his position is too official for France.”

Lionel then turned his head and asked, “Arthur, what do you think the final outcome of this will be?”

Arthur took a puff of his cigar. “There won’t be any results in the short term. After all, Parliament has too many issues to deal with right now. Poland and parliamentary reform are simply not priorities. But for Mr. Talleyrand, perhaps he never intended to have any results. He just wants to annoy Viscount Palmerston. A man who has changed masters six times, even Napoleon had to suffer when he offended him. How can he justify not giving Palmerston a taste of his own medicine?”

Lionel thought for a moment. “Well, it’s good to get a favor from Mr. Talleyrand. After all, we have a lot of business in Paris. But Arthur, what are you going to do on your end?”

“Me? We’ll see,” Arthur loosened his wrist. “Besides, I still have a big match to play. Who is this Napoleon of the Foil?”

“You’re actually interested?”

Lionel winked. “Napoleon of the Foil, the Fencing Master of Paris, François Bertrand. Arthur, think carefully. This guy isn’t like those showoffs from the London Fencing Club. He doesn’t have many flashy but impractical moves, but his speed of drawing his sword and his agility are the best I’ve ever seen. He arrived in London last month and swept through all the fencing halls in London, defeating thirty-six London fencing masters in a row.”

Arthur blew out a smoke ring. “Oh? Sounds familiar. Did he happen to split open a plaque that says ‘French Sick Man’?”

Lionel recalled the news reports. “Plaque? No, not that I know of.”

Arthur asked, “Speaking of which, what style does he use? The Richard Nerthal or Meyer schools of Germany, or like me, the Fiore dei Liberi school of the Apennine Peninsula?”

“None of those,”

Lionel chuckled. “Arthur, you use longsword techniques. But Mr. Bertrand, as his nickname suggests, is a foil master. His moves are naturally French foil, beautiful, smooth, and stable, primarily based on thrusts.

However, since you’re familiar with the Fiore dei Liberi swordsmanship, you should be able to adapt to Italian-style foil quickly. After all, Fiore dei Liberi also originated in Italy, and its style is in the same vein: proactive, fierce, and sharp.

Especially in terms of footwork, with the foundation of Fiore dei Liberi, even if you don’t actively practice, you can intuitively use the technique of using small leaps to close in and pressure your opponent. That’s the beauty of Italian foil. It’s visually appealing, even if you lose, you appear to have been dominating your opponent throughout the match. And as long as your opponent is careless for a moment, you can finish them off with a single leap and a thrust.”

Arthur, upon hearing this, pondered for a moment, then said, “Sounds good. I guess I’ll have to practice hard in my spare time. I’m really short on cash these days.”

Lionel winked. “Don’t worry, Arthur, let me know when you’re ready. I’ll organize this match. We’ll make a fortune just from ticket sales.”

(End of Chapter)