SGB Chapter 293

## Chapter 293: Your Majesty’s Command (4K6)

Heine leaned against the window of the second-floor box, looking down at the bustling hall of the Astley Theatre. The venue was packed with spectators from all corners of London.

The ordinary citizens and working-class families, with slightly more disposable income, occupied the back rows and the higher-tier standing tickets.

Though not wealthy, they were driven by London’s inherent love of face and attention to fashionable appearances. They would even dip into their meager family budgets to find a decent second-hand formal outfit at Covent Garden’s flea market.

Wide-brimmed soft hats and corseted bodices, tailored breeches and Hessian boots, linen scarves and top hats paired with frock coats or tailcoats – these once exclusive choices of the upper class had now found their way into the wardrobes of ordinary families.

While most had only one such formal attire for show, as long as one didn’t scrutinize the details and stitches, they didn’t seem much different from the middle class seated in the front rows.

The middle-class families, those they envied and whose children they desperately pushed to emulate, were comfortably enjoying the bar’s food and drinks in the front rows.

The men, the pillars of these families, were mostly skilled professionals working in iron and steel, coal mining, shipping, construction, banking, or international trade companies. Some were also small business owners, running retail shops, private workshops, blacksmiths, or leather workshops.

Thanks to the successful unfolding of the First Industrial Revolution in Britain, this middle class was rapidly expanding.

While not as affluent as the true upper class families, nor comparable to the 154 wealthiest individuals in Britain with fortunes exceeding £500,000, they had undeniably become the main consumers in London’s entertainment venues.

As the literary criticism magazine *Monthly Review* – the arch-rival of *The Englishman* and a persistent critic of Disraeli’s early black history – said, “Our nation seems to be undergoing a transformation of taste. This transformation of taste is not limited to the literary field, but to the entire cultural realm.”

One of the favorite novelists among middle-class women, Mr. Benjamin Disraeli, even poked fun at this phenomenon in his serial novel *The Young Duke*: “Take a pair of pistols, a pack of cards, a cookbook and a new set of quadrille steps, then mix them with half a dozen impure motives and one perfect marriage, divide them evenly into three parts, and you have a fashionable three-volume novel that is much sought after.”

And at the Astley Theatre today, the middle-class gentlemen and ladies’ fantasies of the upper class were almost entirely realized.

Just as they had seen in fashionable novels, they witnessed the luxurious coats, silk stockings, flowers, opera box seats, duels, elopements, gifts wrapped in silver ribbons, eight male servants, four coachmen, matching horses for the coachwomen, subtle smiles, gestures that hinted at unspoken conspiracies, ladies with slight tears in their eyes due to their husbands’ chaotic private lives, and the black silk hats worn to mourn the recently deceased uncle.

The appearance of the bigwigs on the red-carpeted staircase leading to the second and third-floor boxes of the Astley circular theatre greatly satisfied their curiosity.

They eagerly asked their friends about the backgrounds of these bigwigs, such as who was the old gentleman who just walked down the stairs, looking as straight as a sword, like a knife, and what was the background of the lady with two male servants helping her hold her long dress.

In a mere half-hour, they had heard more illustrious names than they usually heard in a whole year.

The French Ambassador to Britain, former Prime Minister Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord.

Former Prime Minister, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, Duke of Wellington Arthur Wellesley.

Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston Henry John Temple, accompanied by an unidentified lady whose face they couldn’t see.

And after them, countless socialites, including a fair number of MPs from both the Tory and Whig parties.

Besides these political bigwigs, there were also quite a few cultural celebrities.

Gentlemen with wider social circles and diverse interests might recognize Mr. William Turner, the recently rising star, professor of perspective at the Royal Academy of Arts and famous landscape painter, as well as Sir Walter Scott, who had refused the highest honor of “Poet Laureate” and hoped to invite Turner to illustrate his novels.

By sheer coincidence, Mr. Robert Southey, the great poet who had fortunately filled the vacancy after Sir Walter Scott’s rejection of the “Poet Laureate” title, was also at the Astley Circular Theatre.

Accompanying him were two outstanding poets, his friends, who were rarely seen in London, the other two representatives of the British Lake Poets – Mr. William Wordsworth and Mr. Samuel Coleridge.

Naturally, Arthur’s friends were all present at this occasion.

However, their arrival methods differed slightly. Dickens and Tennyson had arrived early by carriage, while Whiston, who usually disliked socializing, had been coerced into being present at the theatre early to provide scientific guidance on the stage setting.

Tennyson held two wine glasses, gazing at the bigwigs passing by on the stairs below, his excitement evident even in the shaking of the liquid in his glass.

“My God! Southey, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, a Poet Laureate, a poet who refused the laurel, and three Lake Poets all present, what’s going on today? I can even say that tonight, the Astley Theatre is brimming with half a century’s worth of British poetry!”

While not as excited as Tennyson, Dickens, a former court clerk who had become a “little writer” just a year ago, couldn’t help but feel uneasy facing a crowd of literary giants.

“I thought this was just a regular performance. I didn’t expect it to attract so many socialites… My novel’s stage play premiere has such a grand opening, it’s… it’s all thanks to Arthur.”

Seeing the pained smile on Dickens’ face, Tennyson couldn’t help but smile and say, “Charles, are you feeling the pressure?”

“Ugh…” Dickens sighed repeatedly, “It’s impossible to say I’m not under pressure. So many bigwigs, great poets are watching, what if my stage play doesn’t succeed… Ugh, Alfred, I’m done for!”

As Dickens finished speaking, he heard the door behind him slam open.

Alexandre Dumas strode in, leading Disraeli into the room, introducing them as he walked, “Come, Charles, Alfred, meet Mr. Heine, the new author of *The Englishman*. I just had a brief chat with him, he’s a decent fellow.”

Dumas then opened the wine cabinet in the room and poured himself a glass to quench his thirst.

Seeing his actions, Tennyson couldn’t help but stifle a laugh and ask, “Alexandre, aren’t you nervous at all? Charles is about to faint. So many bigwigs are here tonight, he’s worried that *The Pickwick Papers* premiere won’t be successful.”

Dumas leaned back on the sofa, disdainfully waving his hand, “Charles, you’ve simply had less experience. Benjamin and I almost risked our lives, what’s a mere stage play failing? If the play fails, the audience suffers, what does it have to do with us who write the script? We’ve already collected the ticket money anyway.”

Disraeli also sat on the sofa, taking off his hat and fanning himself constantly, “Charles, you don’t know what it was like. If Tom and the others had been any later, Alexandre and I would have been hanged on the Tyburn gallows in front of London docks, just like Captain Kidd who was hanged back then.”

Dickens was stunned, “What did you two do?”

Dumas took a sip of wine and said, “Nothing much, just brought along thirty pounds of black powder and nine guns.”

“What?!”

Tennyson and Dickens were completely shocked by his audacity.

Dickens exclaimed, “What did you bring those for?”

Disraeli, upon hearing this, briefly explained their previous plan to everyone.

Heine, after listening to the narrative, couldn’t help but admire Dumas and give him a thumbs up, “Mr. Dumas, you said you had people bombard the Tuileries Palace, I didn’t believe it. But now, I think that story might not be so exaggerated after all.”

“What kind of competition was Arthur in today, a swordsmanship contest or a gunfight?”

“Damn it! How would I know?” Dumas raised an eyebrow and put down his glass, “All I know is that he originally planned to bring two forks.”

“The kind used for eating at home?”

“How could that be? A dinner fork can’t even pierce a coat. Arthur originally planned to borrow them from a dung collector.”

Just as they were talking, they suddenly heard a cheer and a joyful shout from downstairs.

Everyone looked down and saw a sturdy man with a sea-blue cloak, a white-haired old man with a sailor’s red face standing at the top of the stairs, greeting the audience, “Enjoy your beer, enjoy the duel, enjoy this joyful night, in short, everyone have fun, enjoy yourselves, my subjects!”

“My God! It’s His Majesty!”

“Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“Of course not, I’ve seen him by the Thames several times, he often walks there with the Queen.”

“Your Majesty, have fun too!”

“Your Majesty, I’m going to place a bet. Do you think either side will win today’s duel? I’ll take your word for it!”

William IV’s greeting elicited cheers from the audience, indicating that this sailor king was indeed more popular among London citizens than his brother, George IV.

The cheers of the audience also flattered William IV, who always enjoyed being the center of attention and had already had a few drinks before coming to the theatre, making him laugh uncontrollably. As he was about to say a few more words to his people, the attendants responsible for the king’s safety were already sweating profusely.

They couldn’t help but persuade him, “Your Majesty, let’s go to the box first. Although Scotland Yard has enforced gun control in the vicinity, there are many people here, a lot of them drunkards. If their emotions get the better of them, even a fist could hurt you.”

William IV frowned at this, dissatisfied, “You’re underestimating me! Back when I served in North America, Britain was fighting those rebels! You should know, I participated in the Battle of New York, I personally fired three cannonballs at Long Island! I’m telling the truth, Gambier was the captain of the *St. Vincent*, I served under him. If you don’t believe me, go back and ask him!”

Seeing the king’s temper, the attendants could only persuade him with kind words, “Your Majesty, we know all about your glorious deeds, Admiral Gambier told us about them long ago. He also said that your combat performance was very brave, even the great Admiral Horatio Nelson had a high opinion of you. I remember he wrote in your naval performance report – you surpassed most people in your position. But this is not a war, Your Majesty, we’re just here to watch a play, you don’t need to risk it to give the audience a pre-war mobilization speech.”

William IV sighed when the attendants mentioned the name Nelson, “Ugh… Nelson, if he were still alive, Gambier wouldn’t be the Royal Navy’s Admiral. If I had to serve under someone on board a ship, I’d only be willing to steer for Horatio Nelson.”

Just as he was saying this, George Eliot, a Royal Naval officer assigned as a royal attendant, suddenly pointed to the two strings of flags hanging above and below the box downstairs, “Your Majesty, what’s that?”

William IV turned to look at the flags, his previously somewhat melancholic mood instantly vanished. The sailor king clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Good! Good! To dare to put up these two strings of flag signals, it seems that the young man from Scotland Yard is determined to win today!”

As the king turned, the audience also noticed the two strings of flags that had appeared at some point.

Those in the crowd who had served in the Royal Navy couldn’t help but stand up and cheer along. Amid their cheers, the other spectators finally understood the meaning of the two strings of flags.

The upper string was the Royal Navy’s motto and combat creed – Fight the enemy, England!

The lower string was the last combat order issued by Horatio Nelson before his death, also the Royal Navy’s current battle flag – England expects that every man will do his duty.

Amidst the cheers, the atmosphere in the theatre heated up even more. Arthur, who was on stage and making final confirmations for the duel site, suddenly saw George Eliot, standing beside the king, beckoning to him.

Arthur, seeing this, simply took off his hat and smiled slightly.

Eliot leaned down and whispered to the king, “Your Majesty, that’s the protagonist of today’s duel – Chief Inspector Arthur Hastings. I once met him at General Codrington’s banquet.”

“So he knows Codrington?” William IV laughed, “In that case, he must understand those two flag signals?”

Eliot smiled and replied, “I think he should be able to understand them. You may not know this, but he also participated in a high-seas chase with the Royal Navy. Captain Fitzroy of the *Beagle* said of him: his boarding skills are not inferior to General Edward Rotheram.”

William IV was invigorated by this, “Not inferior to Rotheram? That’s not an exaggeration, right? I’ve seen Rotheram’s swordsmanship, in the entire Royal Navy, only he has the ability to engage in boarding combat with a frigate against a battleship.”

Eliot just smiled and said, “I don’t know if it’s an exaggeration. But as you can see, the battle flag has been raised, you know what that means in the Royal Navy.”

William IV, upon hearing this, burst into laughter. He took the sword hanging from his waist and raised it high, shouting to Arthur on stage, “The battle order has been given, I don’t ask you to bring back a *Santa Ana* like General Rotheram, but if you can defeat that Parisian sword master, young man, this sword is yours!”

Without further ado, William IV hung the gleaming, ruby and diamond-studded gold-plated sword beneath the portrait of the king behind him.

William IV patted the ornate white wall behind him, which was engraved with various bas-reliefs, and loudly announced to all the spectators in the theatre and Arthur on stage, “Young man, as you can see, the sword is hanging there. If you’re up to it, come and take it!”

Arthur, seeing this, simply smiled softly and, under the gaze of the audience, knelt on stage and replied in a loud voice, “Your Majesty’s command.”

There’s another chapter, the chapter bonus for the alliance leader will be uploaded later.

(End of Chapter)