## Chapter 79: Europe in Turmoil (Subscribe Now!)
The coffee shop across from the Greenwich Police Station was a haven of peace and quiet for Arthur.
At the next table, Tony and Tom were diligently studying the basics of natural history and medicine with Darwin. The Robin case had been a powerful catalyst for them, and for the first time in their lives, they realized the importance of education. It wasn’t just for the three shillings Arthur paid them, but to protect the lives of Londoners.
Across from Arthur sat Eld, looking like death warmed over. Despite Arthur treating him to lunch, the young man had little appetite.
Arthur glanced at his pale, lifeless face and asked casually, “What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you say Sir Isaac Newton was the only sun in your heart? Now that you have time, why don’t you go to Gresham College for a science lecture?”
“Science lectures? Where would I find the mood for that?” Eld groaned, clutching his head. “Arthur, you don’t understand. The Beagle’s refit is almost complete. At this rate, I might be on board with Charles for sea training soon.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re a cartographer for the Royal Navy. Isn’t sea training normal? It’s preparation for future circumnavigations. And besides, you get double the salary when you’re at sea, right?”
“Arthur!” Eld sighed. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want that money. At sea, you can’t even spend it, and the Admiralty doesn’t really pay much more. I’m not a captain or a navigator, I don’t make that kind of money.”
Arthur flipped to the next page of the newspaper and said, “Eld, think positive. Didn’t your uncle spend twenty years at sea and amass a fortune of over a hundred thousand pounds? Work hard, you might be able to do the same.”
Eld covered his face and lamented, “He just got lucky, catching the tail end of the Napoleonic Wars. Where else could he have made that kind of money?
Back then, to fight Napoleon and his allies, all the shipyards were working overtime, and the Royal Navy was constantly capturing ships. So as soon as my uncle was promoted to captain, he got a ship.
But now? The Royal Navy has over a thousand ships, almost two thousand captains, and the younger ones are all waiting on shore.
Some might never become captains, and there are many who receive the Admiralty’s land allowance all the way to retirement.
If not for the shortage of ships, why do you think the Admiralty is so comfortable letting young lieutenants be navigators, responsible for writing the logs and supervising the captains?
Because for those lieutenants, taking down a captain means an extra ship position. As long as they catch the captain in the wrong, they’re merciless in military court.”
Arthur was stunned for a moment. “The Admiralty does this, aren’t they afraid of the lieutenants falsely accusing captains?”
“Falsely accuse? Unless the lieutenant is crazy, that rarely happens.” Eld rested one leg on the table, leaning back in his chair. “Because a lieutenant’s promotion requires a recommendation letter from the captain. If he dares to give false testimony, but doesn’t manage to take down the captain, he’ll be in a world of hurt.
Besides, there’s more than one lieutenant on a ship. Unless they conspire together, false accusations are not easy.
Finally, even if they do conspire, there’s the master-at-arms.
Master-at-arms are usually experienced old sailors. Since their promotion is hopeless, and their appointment is decided directly by the Admiralty, not the captain, they generally don’t tell lies.
If a captain manages to offend both the lieutenants and the master-at-arms, then he probably won’t win any battles, and deserves to be fired.”
Arthur, stroking his chin, said, “That doesn’t sound too bad. So why are you so reluctant to go for sea training? I saw you looking like you were about to die, I thought Captain Fitzroy was going to tie you to the bowsprit.”
“He dare!” Eld glared. “It was his idea to have sea training. Everyone’s reluctant, and if he ties me to the bowsprit, I guarantee that as soon as the Beagle returns, he’ll be fired.
Who knows what’s wrong with his brain, six sea training sessions in three months, each lasting over a week. The Mediterranean Fleet my uncle’s in doesn’t train that hard!”
“How does the Mediterranean Fleet train?”
Eld looked around mysteriously, then covered his mouth and whispered, “I’m telling you, don’t tell anyone! I heard from my uncle that the Mediterranean Fleet spends half of the year in port.
And this is common in all the overseas fleets. The more pleasant the climate and living conditions, the longer the fleet stays in port.
The Mediterranean Fleet has the longest time in port, sometimes sixty percent of the year. The Baltic Fleet is much more diligent, spending only thirty to forty percent of the time ashore.
It’s not wartime, what’s the point of training so hard? The Royal Navy lads can make more money finding part-time jobs ashore than staying on board.”
“Not wartime?” Arthur laughed, pushing the newspaper on the table towards Eld. “Look at this. We might be going to war soon.”
Eld waved his hand dismissively, “It’s just the king died, what’s the big deal? I know that. The newspapers are full of articles criticizing him, even the tabloids I read dedicated two pages to bashing him.
I remember that tabloid quoted the Times’ review, saying that no king in history has died without a single person’s regret. Who shed tears for him? Whose hearts were moved, evoking genuine sorrow?
From nobles to priests to ordinary citizens, no one wasn’t cursing him. And he died, he died, he even wasted my time reading tabloids, he deserved to be cursed!”
“Is that so?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You might not know this, but I heard from a friend who does parliamentary reporting, that court clerk, Charles Dickens, that the Duke of Wellington said in his eulogy in the House of Lords that the late king was ‘the most cultured gentleman of his time.'”
Eld was stunned. “The Duke of Wellington said that? I remember when the king blocked the Catholic Emancipation Act, he privately called the king the worst, most selfish, most faithless, most wicked person he’d ever met. And worse, the king had absolutely no redeeming qualities to compensate for his flaws.”
Arthur smiled, “Eld, you don’t understand. Being Prime Minister is like that, you have to wear two faces. Do you know what the Duke of Wellington’s reaction was when he heard the king had died?
He exclaimed, ‘I used to swear to the king that he might never do a good thing in his life, but now it seems I was wrong.'”
Eld laughed, “No wonder he called the king ‘the most cultured gentleman of his time.’ But what does that have to do with the possibility of war?”
Arthur pointed to the headline of today’s news, “Because I wasn’t talking about Great Britain at all. Take a look at the top story.”
Eld flipped the newspaper over, bringing it in front of him.
The headline was simple, but the implications were profound: “Revolution Erupts in France, National Guard Occupies Paris.”
(End of Chapter)