## Chapter 128: Arthur’s Farewell
From the top floor attic of Arthur’s residence, a southern view stretched across a street to the renowned Hyde Park.
Hyde Park, before the 16th century, was church property granted by royal favor to Westminster Abbey. However, during the 16th century, King Henry VIII, under the pretext of his own divorce, formally declared a break with the Roman Catholic Church. He led English Catholics to secede from the Catholic Orthodox Church, establishing the Church of England, and declared himself the supreme religious leader of England.
Furthermore, all Catholic monasteries throughout England were ordered to be dissolved by him. As a consequence, the property of Westminster Abbey was naturally returned to the Crown.
After returning to the Crown, Hyde Park was transformed into a Royal Park and Royal Hunting Ground by Henry VIII. During the reign of Charles I, who was beheaded by Cromwell, Charles I, in order to curry favor with the London citizens, ordered the opening of this royal garden to the public. This tradition has been maintained to this day.
Hyde Park is not small in size, covering over 360 acres. In addition to various greenery, trees, fountains, and sculptures, there are many interesting spots within the park.
For instance, the northeast corner of Hyde Park, where Arthur met Disraeli today, is a special area known as “Speakers’ Corner”.
Almost every afternoon, people can be seen expressing a wide range of political views here.
The speakers’ rhetoric can be described as encompassing the full spectrum of human life. Here, you often see supporters of slavery and anti-slavery activists spitting at each other, or priests dreaming of returning to the Middle Ages, preaching “I have a dream”, and their counterparts, Byron and Shelley’s fans, standing a few meters away, these atheists shouting to sweep God into the dustbin of history.
Of course, in this place filled with bizarre and diverse viewpoints, it is understandable that Mr. Disraeli’s speech wouldn’t pique the interest of others.
At the southern end of Hyde Park, there is another location that can be considered heavyweight. It is the Hyde Park Cavalry Barracks, where the old regiment that Constable Clemens once served in is stationed. This is the Household Cavalry Regiment, directly under the command of the Army Headquarters.
The Household Cavalry Regiment has a long history. It was formed in Bruges during the Restoration of Charles II in 1658. Initially, its official name was “The King’s Own Loyal Regiment of Horse,” and the political composition of the cavalry regiment was very singular. All members of the regiment were die-hard royalists who had fled abroad.
After 1788, the Household Cavalry Regiment lowered the social status qualifications for recruiting officers. They no longer required officers to be of noble birth, and were thus mocked as “the Household Cavalry Regiment is no longer a bunch of gentlemen, but a bunch of cheese merchants.”
Although the social composition of the regiment changed, the ideological tradition of the Household Cavalry Regiment was clearly well-preserved. After the reorganization, they still performed brilliantly, suppressing the London Piccadilly riots in 1810, just as their predecessors had suppressed the Monmouth Rebellion in 1685, earning the “glorious” title of “Piccadilly Butcher.”
Arthur stood under a maple tree in Hyde Park. The bright, soft moonlight poured down, illuminating the half-red maple leaves crushed under his black leather boots. Hanging from the branches above his head was Clemens, his eyes bulging, skin pale, and body gradually stiffening.
Clemens’ body hung from a thick hemp rope. With the wind blowing, it couldn’t help but sway slightly.
In his pocket was a letter with a postmark, a letter that had not yet been sent.
Arthur smoked, slowly exhaling a puff of white smoke. Through the smoke and the gaps in the branches, he could vaguely see the marble arch not far ahead.
Looking at the scene before him, he felt a sense of familiarity. He remembered the scene of hanging the grave robber in the church cemetery not long ago.
The Scotland Yard officers on duty in Bayswater tonight had already surrounded the area, isolating the crime scene from the outside world according to Arthur’s instructions.
Constable Field looked at Arthur, who was leisurely smoking, with a hesitant expression. He didn’t know why, but he was a little afraid of this superior who was about the same age as him. Although Scotland Yard officers who knew Arthur well all praised Inspector Arthur Hastings for being very kind.
Most importantly, he could bring benefits to everyone. All the frontline patrol officers of Scotland Yard had received a 25% salary increase thanks to Inspector Hastings’ efforts.
But Field always felt that behind his radiant and upright posture, there was a dark place that ordinary people couldn’t imagine.
He endured for a while, finally unable to help but ask, “Inspector Hastings, aren’t you going to check the body?”
Arthur glanced at him, smiling and shaking his head, “I’m off work. Although I don’t mind working overtime for the public good, Hyde Park is not my jurisdiction.”
Field pondered those words, feeling like there was some deeper meaning.
He tentatively asked again, “But aren’t you going to check the letter in Constable Clemens’ pocket? Everyone is very curious about that letter.”
Arthur raised his eyebrows, “What do you think it is?”
“I guess?” Field was taken aback, “A suicide note? Or maybe a testament to the division of property?”
Arthur nodded slightly, “I disagree with your viewpoint. I guess it’s a resignation letter.”
“Resignation letter?” Field thought for a moment, “You mean you think Constable Clemens committed suicide because he couldn’t bear the pressure of his job?”
Arthur shook his head when he heard this, “Whether he committed suicide or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that everyone hopes he committed suicide. Charles, remember, when everyone hopes that someone can live, they may not survive. But if everyone hopes someone dies, then they will inevitably die.”
Field was confused by Arthur’s words, “Why is that?”
Arthur paused, as if he couldn’t answer the question either.
But after being silent for a while, he still gave an explanation he considered appropriate, “Because humans are social beings.”
Field nodded thoughtfully, but soon he asked again, “Should we notify the news media? Or should we suppress this incident?”
Arthur poured out the ash from his pipe, lifted his toes, and gently crushed the embers on the ground, “That’s not for us to decide. How to proceed depends on the decision of Chief Inspector Rowan or someone higher up.”
Field heard this, and looked at Speakers’ Corner not far away. It was known to be the area with the most freedom of speech in all of Great Britain. However, compared to Arthur’s words, it seemed like a scene of irony behind the scenes.
He sighed and asked, “But didn’t we say we want freedom of the press? The press censorship has just been lifted recently. If we do this, I’m afraid it wouldn’t be in line with the public’s expectations of government agencies.”
Arthur smiled and patted Field on the shoulder, “Charles, I’m glad you think that way. But you also have to understand, where there is light, there is shadow. Freedom of speech and freedom of the press only exist when the government believes it is safe. So, you see, the Duke of Wellington’s cabinet is not stable right now.
We are Scotland Yard police, and our primary task is to protect the lives and property of the public. To do that, we must first maintain social order. Actually, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think you’re a good guy, so I’m telling you things I shouldn’t.
Do you know General Codrington? Take a look at his resume in your spare time. It will be helpful for your future development. Charles, you’re still young. Some truths that are detrimental to social stability, just don’t publicize them. Unless those truths are so numerous that they affect the happiness and interests of the vast majority of people, some things should be dealt with internally.”
Field heard this, and felt a sense of familiarity.
He thought for a while, then suddenly realized, “I almost forgot your background. You graduated from the University of London. You’re a follower of Jeremy Bentham? I remember hearing his supporters advocating utilitarianism on the street when I passed Westminster last time.”
Field thought Arthur would nod in confirmation, but he saw him shake his head slightly.
Field saw a faint red glow in his eyes.
“Mr. Bentham’s ideals are certainly noble, but I, a humble soul, can only partially absorb them. For a Scotland Yard policeman, you have to consider how to survive in this environment for a long time. I can’t propose great ideals and visions like Mr. Bentham. I can only do my best to be a shadow on them.
People like Mr. Bentham are responsible for telling the human world how to move forward. They are responsible for guiding humanity to find the light. But small insignificant figures like me are responsible for reminding people not to forget what exists behind the light. If anyone dares to remove the light, it will release things like me.”
Arthur said this, and couldn’t help but look up at Clemens’ face, which looked terrifying and grotesque because of death.
The moonlight shone on Arthur’s side face. On the bright side, one could see Arthur’s calm face. On the dark side, one could see Arthur’s red-glowing pupils and the corners of his mouth gradually rising.
Arthur took off his hat, his hand clasped in front of his chest, and bowed slightly towards Clemens’ body.
Behind him, the shadow of Agareus, smiling, floated.
“Constable Clemens, I’m sorry I couldn’t send you off personally.”
(End of Chapter)