SGB Chapter 267

## Chapter 267: The Story of the Editorial Department (6K)

Fleet Street, the heart of London’s news publishing industry for centuries, has always been a hallowed ground for British journalists. Today, this holy ground welcomed a new tenant – the editorial department of “The Englishman” magazine.

“The Englishman,” a magazine that rapidly rose to prominence on the streets of London in recent years, finally decided to move its headquarters out of Mr. Disraeli and Mr. Hastings’ two residences in Lancaster Gate, embarking on a new path of formalized office operations after a long period of makeshift arrangements.

Mr. Disraeli, who had been tirelessly working towards his goal of becoming Prime Minister, also announced that he would officially step down as the editor-in-chief of “The Englishman” today, splitting the position into two roles: Editor-in-Chief of Fashion Literature and Editor-in-Chief of Romantic Literature.

The one who took over the position of Editor-in-Chief of Fashion Literature was none other than Mr. Alexandre Dumas, who looked utterly reluctant.

Leaning back in his chair at the editorial office, Arthur sipped his tea and read the newspaper, offering a word of comfort to Dumas: “Alexandre, where you write doesn’t really matter, does it? You’ll have a salary working here on Fleet Street. And Benjamin, to make it easier for you, has specifically hired two writing assistants to help you gather information. Even if you don’t need a fixed office, those two assistants will, right?”

Dumas sat at the desk next to him, twirling his quill pen. The fat man yawned, looking impatient: “This place feels like a prison. Even if you make me stay here, you guys have to rent a bigger place, right? Not to mention anything else, we need to be more spacious than the Blackwood’s editorial department.”

“We will, someday,” Arthur said. “But for now, please bear with it. However, if you find it too cramped here, you can always go to Scotland Yard to help my police secretary with training.”

“Training?” Dumas paused, holding his coffee. He frowned: “What did you trick that Bonaparte kid into doing?”

“It’s not tricking, he proposed it,” Arthur said. “Louis reported to me that after a week of observing and researching London’s various police districts, he found that the quality of the officers varied greatly, especially in terms of execution and discipline. So…”

Dumas shook his head: “Who would want to be a policeman if they had a good job? Either it’s a newly arrived farmer or a bankrupt craftsman. Fifteen shillings a week, does he really want to hire the Pope’s Swiss Guard to Scotland Yard?”

Arthur replied: “The Swiss Guard is definitely out of the question, but Louis has at least studied at a military academy in Switzerland for a few years, and he does have some family background in training. He told me he’s planning to train a group of highly skilled police officers for Scotland Yard based on the training standards of the French artillery, and the Criminal Investigation Department will be his first training target.”

Dumas almost spat out the coffee in his mouth at these words: “What?! He wants to train a team of French artillery for Scotland Yard?”

“That’s right, which is why I asked if you’re interested in helping him.” Arthur shook the newspaper in his hand: “Alexandre, I remember you had the rank of Artillery Captain in France, didn’t you? You were even an Artillery Deputy Company Commander?”

“More than that!” Dumas instantly perked up, he snorted triumphantly and straightened his collar: “I even led people to bombard the Tuileries Palace!”

Arthur quickly raised his hand to stop him: “Just training this time, no need to teach them how to bombard St. James’s Palace. If you really get itchy fingers, you can go to St. Petersburg and teach the sailors there how to bombard the Winter Palace. It’s going to be bombarded sooner or later, right? Who bombards doesn’t matter.”

Dumas asked: “Do you have something against the Tsar?”

Arthur calmly replied: “No, it’s just that I don’t have any friends in Russia yet.”

Dumas couldn’t help but shake his head: “British people are so cold. You don’t have anything against the Tsar, but I do. Nicholas I, this cruel tyrant, just look at what he did to Poland! The hypocrite who claims to be the protector of all Christians in the world by sheltering Greece from the Ottoman Empire, finally tore off his mask of hypocrisy.”

After finishing his words, Dumas realized that Arthur not only didn’t respond but was actually reading the newspaper intently. He leaned over and asked: “What are you looking at?”

Arthur didn’t answer, just handed him the newspaper: “Just read it yourself.”

Dumas took the newspaper and scanned it quickly.

“Greek President Assassinated, Foreign Office Expresses Deep Condolences”

According to public information from Athens, the great leader of the Greek War of Independence, the renowned European diplomat, the unyielding champion of liberalism, the founding father and first President of the Republic of Greece, Mr. Ioannis Antonios Capodistrias, was attacked by two Greek Mani extremists on the street while attending Sunday mass at the church on October 9th.

Mr. Capodistrias was shot multiple times in the chest and died that afternoon after failing to respond to treatment.

The two attackers were arrested on the spot by Greek authorities. According to reliable sources, the reason for the two attackers’ assassination of the president was that recently, the Mani region refused to give up regional autonomy and pay taxes. The Mani leader, Petros Mavromichalis, was arrested and imprisoned by the Greek authorities, which caused extreme dissatisfaction among the local population, leading to the tragedy.

After the incident, Viscount Palmerston, the Foreign Secretary, immediately expressed condolences to the Greek ambassador and strongly condemned the perpetrators. Viscount Palmerston claimed that the entire British public stands with the Greek people fighting for freedom during this difficult time.

Currently, the Greek government has declared a state of emergency throughout the country. During the emergency period, all military and political affairs will be taken over by the Supreme Three-Man Governing Committee of Greece, consisting of General Kolokotronis, Commander-in-Chief of the Army, Admiral Miaoulis, Commander-in-Chief of the Navy, and Mr. Kolettis, leader of the Greek Parliament.

Arthur tapped his fingers on the table, muttering: “A classic Greek tragedy, isn’t it, Alexandre? Let’s mourn for three minutes for a great politician like Mr. Capodistrias.”

Dumas put down the newspaper: “So, does Scotland Yard have to lower the flag to half-mast in mourning?”

Arthur said regretfully: “If I had the authority, I wouldn’t mind doing so. But unfortunately, I don’t.”

Dumas, of course, wouldn’t be fooled by Arthur. As a vibrant 19th-century republican key politician, he was, if not familiar with the European situation, at least very interested in it.

As for Greece, a focal point region in recent years, Dumas had his own research.

He pointed at the list of the Greek Three-Man Governing Committee on the newspaper: “General Kolokotronis, the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, is a pro-Russian leader who shares the same views as the assassinated Greek president. The weapons and training of the Greek army are basically provided by Russian aid.

“Admiral Miaoulis is also interesting. I remember that during the time when British idealists like Byron and Shelley went to Greece to assist in the war, they mostly guarded Mytilene, and the supplies there were transported by Miaoulis for years. What kind of person is he, Arthur? Can you tell me?”

Arthur heard this, just raised his finger towards Kolettis, the last name on the committee: “Before that, why don’t we talk about Mr. Kolettis? Alexandre, he’s a great republican like you, a Frenchman in spirit, who has a profound love for the land of France. Even though France itself is not a republic now, it doesn’t change Mr. Kolettis’s fanatical pro-French tendencies.”

The office was silent for a while, then Dumas and Arthur looked at each other and smiled.

Dumas laughed and shook his head: “Oh… Arthur, maybe you’re right: in politics, there are no people, only ideas. No emotions, only interests. In politics, you can’t say you’re killing a person, it’s just clearing an obstacle. Mr. Capodistrias was cleared because he only served Russian interests.”

Arthur flipped through the manuscript in his hand and praised: “You’re right, just like it’s written in ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’. When a person has a certain amount of wealth, luxury becomes a necessity. When a person has a certain level of status, his ideals will shine even brighter.”

“So, you guys, the British, did this?”

“Given the lack of information at hand, I’m inclined to believe it could be a French-style accident.”

“Alright, let’s compromise, let’s just say it was the Greeks venting their frustrations.”

“That’s right, ‘The Times’ has given a fairly objective assessment that meets everyone’s expectations.”

As Arthur finished speaking, the door to the editorial office suddenly opened.

The face that appeared outside the door made Arthur and Dumas stunned.

“Alfred, how did you get here?”

Tennyson took off his hat. His expression looked tired, but he managed to squeeze out a smile: “Didn’t Mr. Disraeli tell you? Dumas is the Editor-in-Chief of Fashion Literature, and I’m in charge of Romantic Literature.”

Dumas was stunned: “You’re the editor? What’s Benjamin up to? Doesn’t he know you’re still studying at Cambridge?”

“I…” Tennyson paused: “I dropped out.”

“Dropped out?” Arthur raised an eyebrow: “Did something happen to you?”

“Yes, tell us if you have any difficulties.” Dumas put his arm around Arthur’s shoulder and punched him in the chest: “See, we can help you deal with the consequences, and if we can’t, we’ll clear the obstacles.”

Arthur glanced at him and lit his pipe, taking a puff: “Alexandre, it’s just going to school. I don’t think it’s necessary to go that far.”

Tennyson hung his hat and coat on the coat rack: “It’s nothing, you two don’t have to worry about me. I just dropped out because my father passed away, so I can’t afford Cambridge’s tuition.”

“This… Your father is gone?”

“Alfred, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Tennyson found a chair to sit down: “It’s nothing, God always calls people away, it’s just that this time he chose my father. But Cambridge is certainly not as reasonable as God. If you don’t have money, you have to drop out. That’s the rule.”

Dumas heard this, immediately took out his wallet: “How much is Cambridge’s tuition? Just tell me, I can lend you the tuition first, you don’t have to rush to pay it back.”

Tennyson hurriedly gestured for Dumas not to be impulsive: “Alexandre, thank you for your kindness, but it’s really not necessary. I’ve already dropped out. There’s no turning back. Besides, it’s really too expensive to pay one or two hundred pounds a year just for a second or third-class degree from Cambridge.”

“One or two hundred pounds?” Dumas’s hands trembled when he heard this: “Is Cambridge’s degree made of gold? It costs so much to go to school? If you complete your studies, the money for studying is enough to buy two houses in London.”

Speaking of which, Dumas suddenly realized something: “So, Charles, that little bald head, his family is quite wealthy?”

Arthur glanced at him: “What do you think? I told you before, out of all of us, only I’m a true peasant.”

Tennyson seemed quite open-minded, he smiled: “Arthur, you can’t say that, now I am too. Speaking of which, Cambridge’s education is actually quite boring. When William dropped out at the beginning of the year, I thought about dropping out with him. Now that my father has passed away, it gives me a formal reason to drop out. So, it’s dropped out, so be it.”

Dumas questioned: “Your friend, Mr. Thackeray’s father also passed away?”

Arthur looked at Dumas: “Alexandre, you’re quite a talker.”

Tennyson shook his head: “William’s father passed away earlier, but he was a senior official of the East India Company, and William was an only child, so he inherited a considerable fortune. It’s just that William, though a good person, is a bit solitary, so he’s not very good at handling his relationships with classmates. Plus, he was previously stimulated by Mr. Carter, and his several submissions to the magazine were unsuccessful. So, he dropped out at the beginning of this year and went to Weimar Republic in Germany specifically to study poetry and art with Goethe.”

Dumas couldn’t help but exclaim: “Goethe? That’s really reckless!”

Arthur also agreed: “I think it’s mainly because he has money. But I think he’ll gain something from this trip, after all, even Bernard, who always looked down on Goethe, could only belittle him as a ‘rhyming servant’. This shows that even his opponents can’t deny the beauty of Goethe’s poetry.”

Speaking of which, Arthur suddenly had a flash of inspiration. He pondered for a moment, then said: “Alfred, although this may sound inappropriate, I don’t think it’s necessary to study classical literature at Cambridge. And you’re going to move to London to live, why not find a school that’s affordable and doesn’t interfere with your work?”

“You…” Tennyson was also taken aback: “You’re talking about your alma mater.”

Dumas heard this and scoffed: “Come on, Arthur, what kind of classical literature department can the University of London produce?”

Arthur didn’t argue, he just said: “Maybe it used to be primarily an animal research institution, but now that Alfred is here, it’s different, isn’t it? Besides, Cambridge and Oxford charge one or two hundred pounds a year, and the tuition for the four Inns of Court in London can reach three hundred pounds a year, while the annual tuition at the University of London is only thirteen pounds and six shillings. This kind of value for money, where else can you find it?”

“But…” Tennyson was a little hesitant: “But I heard that the University of London doesn’t have a royal charter?”

Arthur sipped his tea and said: “Don’t worry, it’s coming soon.”

Tennyson was stunned: “How do you know?”

Arthur put down his teacup, leaned forward, and asked earnestly: “Alfred, do you know who is responsible for issuing the royal charter?”

Tennyson thought for a moment: “It… It should be the Lord Chancellor?”

Arthur nodded: “That’s right, but the Lord Chancellor is now our chairman of the board of trustees. So you understand, now it’s not us who need to worry about the royal charter, but Oxford and Cambridge. If they continue to incite the Education Committee to vote against granting the University of London a royal charter, then when their royal charter expires, they’d better pray that Lord Brougham has been ousted, otherwise, we’ll see.”

Tennyson heard this and immediately beamed: “This… If you say so, maybe I should really consider attending the University of London…”

Seeing that he was interested, Arthur took out a piece of paper from his drawer, wrote a note, and handed it to him: “Alfred, when you go to register, take this note to Principal Horner, he’ll definitely consider your previous study at Cambridge and arrange for you to skip grades accordingly.”

“Arthur, I…” Tennyson’s gloom vanished: “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

Dumas couldn’t help but whistle: “I told you, Alfred, now the obstacles have been cleared.”

Just as the three of them were chatting and laughing, the door to the editorial office was slammed open again.

Disraeli, swaying as he walked, stumbled into the office, clutching his head and complaining: “Damn it, I shouldn’t have drunk so much last night, I feel like the whole world is spinning since I woke up this morning, and it hasn’t stopped until now.”

Dumas couldn’t help but tease: “It seems our future Prime Minister has already tasted the taste of politics. Benjamin, how does it taste?”

“How does it taste?” Disraeli glared: “Spicy. It’s a bit sweet at first, but afterwards, you just feel a bit of burning in your throat.”

Dumas burst into laughter: “Then I think politics is probably 28 degrees.”

“Close enough.” Disraeli still felt a bit apprehensive when he thought about it: “God! You guys didn’t see the scene last night, it’s so unnerving to be targeted by so many ladies. You have to please this one and worry about offending that one, you dare not neglect anyone, otherwise, they’ll throw a seductive glance and they can crush me on the table. By the way, Arthur, why did you specifically call me here today?”

Arthur heard this, just took out the file bag next to him and threw it over: “What else could it be? Of course, it’s to pave the way for you to become Prime Minister.”

A full subscription group was created this afternoon, interested book friends can directly click on the link below the chapter comment to join.

(End of Chapter)