Chapter 410 It’s Raining in London (6K2)

Facing the current chaotic situation, I have prepared for the worst, but I still have the best expectations for the future. On June 5, 1832, Arthur Hastings wrote in his diary.

——A History of Britain in the Nineteenth Century by George Macaulay William Curry

As soon as Arthur walked out of the theater, he smelled an atmosphere of uneasiness and chaos permeating the streets, like the smell of sweat mixed with the filth emanating from the Thames River, as if the whole city was gasping in pain.

At this moment approaching dusk, the street gas lamps newly installed this year have been lit. However, this flickering light cannot dispel the haze and fog that descends on the streets of London at night.

The carriage drove quickly through Oxford Street. Through the window, Arthur saw the crowds on the stone road surging like a tidal wave. They shouted slogans and their faces were distorted with anger and dissatisfaction.

Rubbles, shards of glass and the remains of carriages that had been overturned covered the road, and the orderly scene of the past was gone.

Some in the crowd waved wooden sticks and broken tools, while others picked up goods from roadside vendors and threw them at the opponents. Whistles, screams, and the occasional gunshot were all lost in the sea of ​​noise.

The doors and windows of the shops were closed and padlocks clanged. Many shopkeepers hid in their shops in fear and peered into the outside world through the gaps in the windows. In the streets and alleys, fires were burning, reflecting the complex expressions of fear and determination on people's faces, and the air was filled with the smell of smoke, sweat and uneasiness.

Among the demonstrators, a few Scotland Yard policemen in dark blue tuxedo uniforms could occasionally be seen. They were holding batons and trying to maintain order. However, in front of the stormy crowd, such meager efforts were tantamount to a mantis trying to stop them. The coming tsunami.

And the nervousness and fear that emerged in their hearts could not be disguised either.

Sweat covered their foreheads, and their lips, which were blue and purple due to excessive stress, betrayed their true feelings at the moment.

They looked at the crowds pouring onto the streets like a tide, and their expressions that wanted to tear them and the world apart together. A trace of despair gradually appeared in the eyes of several police officers.

Bang bang!

Two gunshots suddenly rang out in the street.

Then, they saw several carriages with open doors speeding toward them.

Standing beside the car door was a police officer in the same uniform as them, holding the armrest and holding a Hastings revolver.

Behind that carriage were several modified cars with their roofs lifted off. On each car stood two policemen armed with short guns. They fired into the air while pointing at the demonstrators. He screamed angrily: "If you don't want to die, get back home!"

These gunshots quickly calmed down the situation on the street, but soon, when the rioting crowd found that no one was injured after the gunshots, the fear that had just risen quickly disappeared.

"Overturn their carriages! They are out of bullets!"

I don't know who shouted this, and these rioters quickly gathered together again as if they had discovered the truth. They were like wildfire sweeping the earth, and would soon ignite the entire city.

Plunkett, who was chewing tobacco leaves in his mouth, saw this situation and spat out the tobacco residue in his mouth. Without even taking extra aim, he raised his pistol and shot the leader of the crowd in the left leg with one bullet. wear.

The veins on his neck popped out, and even the flesh at the corner of his mouth was twitching: "I don't have many bullets, but one bullet is enough to send you to hell! And I tell you, I specialize in shooting those at the front. one!"

Plunkett's roar was like thunder, and the scene of blood on the streets instantly shocked the rioting crowd who had just regained their mood. They didn't want to retreat, but no one wanted to take another step forward. Because everyone knows that most of what this Scotch Yard scoundrel says is true.

Taking advantage of the stalemate between Plunkett and the crowd, Arthur quickly urged several police officers surrounded by the rioting crowd to get into the car: "Quick, we don't have much time."

Several police officers woke up from a dream, and they hurriedly squeezed into Arthur's carriage.

However, before they could settle down, the carriage started moving again.

Their violent breathing, coupled with the occasional gunshots and burning firelights coming from outside the carriage, made these police officers who had narrowly escaped death unable to completely relax even after escaping from danger.

Several police officers had just been staring at Arthur without saying a word, for fear that the officer with the badge of St. Edward on his shoulders and the command baton would scold them for not doing things well.

Arthur looked at the numbers hanging on the chests of several police officers, put his hands in his pockets and was about to take out a cigarette, but found that his cigarette case seemed to be lost at the Astley Theatre.

After a moment of silence, Arthur pointed to the bulging pocket of one of the police officers and asked, "Do you have any cigarettes? I need to borrow a fire."

Hearing this, several police officers breathed a sigh of relief. The officer pointed at by Arthur smiled reluctantly: "Sir, I have it in my pocket, but you have to pay for it yourself. I...I don't mean to offend you, But the mob hit me with a few sticks on my arm, and now... I really can’t lift it.”

Arthur didn't say anything after hearing this. He emptied the police officer's pockets, and finally added: "Excuse me, please lend me your pipe."

"Of course, you... please do it."

The carriage jolted violently, Arthur started the engine, took a deep puff, and his tense face relaxed. He savored the aftertaste in his mouth, raised his eyebrows and said, "So strong? Do you have a lot of pressure at work? So you need this level of goods to help you relieve it?"

Several police officers heard this and waved their hands and said, "No, no, we are used to it. We are all in this business, there is nothing we can do."

Arthur saw their uniforms stained with blood, their heads bleeding, and their miserable appearance, and just shook his head and said, "I don't want to blame you, on the contrary, I think your boss is very Irresponsible. If he hoped to suppress a riot with only the four of you, he should have equipped you with guns. If he didn't, he should have given you enough manpower. Don't tell me that there are only four of you guys in this patrol area."

"Of course not, sir, you... you misunderstood. Of course it's not like this in normal times, but today is an emergency. Most of the team was transferred to the headquarters for assembly, and only the four of us were left in the police station. We were unlucky. Not long after the main force left, the mob started to attack the police station. The four of us couldn't resist and were forced to flee. We arrived at Oxford Street, but there were also violent protesters here, so...so what you just saw happened."

"Attack the police station?" Arthur frowned and asked, "Did you lose your gun?"

The police officer said, "Please rest assured, all the guns in our police station were taken away by them when the main force gathered. However, if the mob looked carefully, they might find some spare civilized canes we left in the police station."

Arthur nodded and patted the young police officer on the shoulder: "Well done, you are very worthy of the clothes you are wearing today. When the situation calms down, Come, I will go to the hall to apply for a special award for you. "

The young police officer was slapped by Arthur and grimaced, but he still stiffened his arms and replied loudly: "Thank you for your kindness, sir! But we were beaten too badly today, and we are too ashamed to ask for an award."

"It doesn't matter."

Arthur took a puff of cigarette: "If you feel ashamed, you can make up for it later. Police officers, use your actual actions to prove to everyone that you deserve a bonus and a commendation."

...

At No. 4 Whitehall Street, Inspector Ledley King, Director of the Fifth Department of the Police Intelligence Bureau, wandered anxiously in front of Scotland Yard.

In the past hour, one superintendent after another has led their assigned teams to set off.

In the usually crowded office on the third floor of the Greater London Police, there is no senior police officer above Ledley at this time.

What's worse is that the Metropolitan Police is now short of manpower. Not only have all the superintendents received their respective tasks, but even Commissioner Rowan and Deputy Commissioner Sir Richard Mayne have already led the team to set off in person.

Just fifteen minutes ago, the two retired army colonels each rode a pure white English thoroughbred horse and led the last reserve of Scotland Yard - 50 Bow Street Mounted Police, to the Woolwich Arsenal in Greenwich for reinforcement.

They are extremely worried about the consequences of the arsenal falling into the hands of the rioters, because according to their understanding, the Woolwich Arsenal has at least more than 50,000 guns and more than 60 artillery of various calibers that will be delivered to the Army Ordnance Bureau, and in their shipyard, the Royal Navy's 74-gun third-class battleship "Achilles" is currently under maintenance in the port.

Once the rioters get these, the consequences are self-evident. This riot is bound to evolve into a large-scale armed uprising. This is also the reason why Director Rowan and Sir Mayne decided to lead the team to set off immediately after receiving the news that the instigator from Bristol appeared in Greenwich.

The task that the two directors gave to Ledley before leaving was to tell him that before the two of them returned from the Woolwich Arsenal, Assistant Commissioner Arthur Hastings would temporarily preside over the current overall work of the Greater London Police.

But unexpectedly, the house leaked and it rained overnight. Just a few minutes after the two directors left, the City of London received bad news again.

The City of London Police sent a messenger to Scotland Yard for urgent help. The messenger told Ledley that the scene in the London Stock Exchange at this time was simply hell. According to normal trading hours, the stock exchange should have been closed at this time.

But the group of stockbrokers and investors got the news of the instigator in Greenwich from somewhere. The current situation of fires everywhere in London, the fireworks that would rise from time to time in the sky, and the speculation that the Woolwich Arsenal might be captured at any time caused widespread panic in the City of Finance.

The influx of stock traders and bond holders was so crazy that they almost trampled the threshold of the exchange. They sold British government bonds and stocks that they usually regarded as treasures like crazy. In just a dozen minutes, the price of British government bonds fell by five points.

Not only that, these investors even resorted to violence to prevent the stock exchange from closing, because they were very worried that by tomorrow, the stocks and bonds they currently held would become worthless.

What exactly does the London Stock Exchange mean to the country of Britain? This is something that everyone knows. If there is a total collapse there, then the throne will also tilt.

Realizing the seriousness of the matter, Ledley's first reaction was to dispatch troops to support the Financial City, but before he could give the order, he found himself in a dilemma.

Move troops, where are the troops now?

Whether they are elite troops or miscellaneous troops, they have been sent out for emergency response at this moment. Even the Bow Street Mounted Police, which is used as a reserve team, has also headed to Greenwich.

At present, he only has a small group of left-behind police officers who have just escaped from the riot area. Even if they are added together, there are only twenty or thirty people.

As for the more than ten office staff who are urgently processing letters from various police districts in the lobby on the first floor, regardless of their combat effectiveness, if Ledley pulls them out at this time, who will he call if a special police situation occurs again soon? To deal with it?

As for the Guards Cavalry who were responsible for defense nearby, Ledley was not sure whether these proud gentlemen would be willing to listen to him, let alone let them disobey military orders and go to the Financial City.

Moreover, even if they retreat ten thousand steps, these Guards Cavalry are willing to go, but after they leave, who will be left to guard Whitehall Street?

If those mobs took advantage of this situation and burned down the cabinet ministries on Whitehall Street and smashed the Prime Minister's official residence at No. 10 Downing Street...

The magnitude and impact of these things could be worse than letting the City spiral out of control.

Just when Ledley was about to kneel down and pray to God, he heard the rumble of wheels rolling.

Just hearing a horse neighing, the door of the black carriage opened, and the hard high-top riding boots stepped on the floor tiles of Whitehall Street, making a crisp sound.

Arthur smoothed back his messy hair and put on the standard Scotland Yard police top hat again: "Ledley, you look terrible."

Ridley took a deep breath, stood at attention and saluted: "Sir, now I finally understand why believers are so happy to see Jesus resurrected. Because this is the feeling in my heart now."

Arthur held his pipe in his mouth, lit the match and glanced at him: "Are you cursing me to death?"

"No, sir, I don't mean that at all." Laidley responded: "But if you had come a few minutes later, I feel that I would have been close to death."

Arthur raised his head and glanced at the disgraced and dejected patrol officers in front of Scotland Yard who had just escaped from various chaotic areas, and nodded slightly: "I think I probably know what's going on."

He was just about to take a breath when suddenly, a big raindrop fell from the sky, hitting his pipe and extinguishing the sparks.

Arthur looked up at the dark cloud-covered sky and shook his head slightly: "So, can you tell me about the current situation? Where are Director Luowan and the others?"

When Ridley heard this, he hurriedly poured beans through a bamboo tube and recounted everything he had learned.

Immediately, he concluded dejectedly: "Sir, the Financial City needs support, but as you can see, we only have these defeated soldiers left in our hands."

Arthur looked around, looking at the dejected faces of the police officers, and suddenly replied: "A defeated army? I don't think so."

Plunkett also stepped out of the carriage behind him. He had two gun holsters hung on his left and right waists, and a Colt revolver that had just been adjusted on his back.

The sharpshooter put his pistol back into his holster, put his hands on his waist and agreed, "I don't think so either."

"Don't think so? Why?"

Ledley was confused. He didn't know why both Plunkett and Arthur spoke highly of the group of subordinates in front of them who had just suffered a major failure.

But Plunkett did not give him an explanation. Instead, he turned around and winked at Arthur: "Sir, the soldiers are good soldiers, but if you can make them regain their courage, you have to..."

Arthur nodded understandingly, and he walked towards the group of police officers crowded against the wall.

Scotland Yard's beautiful uniforms were stained with blood and dust from unknown sources. Everyone was more or less stained. Seeing the arrival of senior police officers, they didn't even dare to raise their heads and look Arthur in the eyes. .

But soon, a burst of applause caught their attention. They raised their heads, and what met their gaze was Arthur's admiring eyes.

"Gentlemen, I know what you are worried about. You are afraid of being blamed, afraid of being scolded by everyone, because you just failed to protect the neighborhood you are responsible for in your respective tasks. I know what you think about yourselves, you are a Helping the defeated soldiers is a straggler and an out-and-out loser.

But, I have to say, I don’t see it the same way as you do. Because in my opinion, if you are really losers, you should have gone home crying to your mother by now. But what do I see here now? You guys didn't do that! Although you have just suffered a tragic defeat, you are still strong enough to cross several blocks and face countless dangers and attacks to come here to recover. This shows what? This shows that you still have honor in your hearts! "

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, many police officers' dejected eyes lit up, and their faces began to look bright again.

Suddenly, a young policeman stood up, took off his hat and said: "Sir...sir, I'm sorry."

Immediately afterwards, one after another police officers all stood up. They also took off their hats and stood up and said: "Sir, we are very sorry!"

"Feel sorry?"

When Arthur heard this, his smiling face suddenly turned serious: "Gentlemen, I am not here to hear you apologize to me. We are not here to dwell on past failures, but to We must draw strength from it in order to make our success more brilliant! And you, you idiots, straighten your backs!"

Arthur's roar echoed in the empty Whitehall Street, like a law, an indescribable belief. For some reason, every police officer present drew strength from it, supporting them to straighten their waists. Like a straight sword.

Arthur stepped forward, sword in hand, and circled their ranks.

"At this decisive moment, we are gathered here, carrying the expectations of a country and the trust of an era. The current British society is undergoing a historic social change, just like a This double-edged sword not only brings the dawn of progress, but also causes uneasiness and resistance among some people. Human nature seeks order in chaos, just like stars seek light in darkness.

We all know that this country is not perfect, it has many problems that need to be solved, and maybe it does need to make changes at this moment. However, we want it to change in a way that brings us closer to that dreamed kingdom of heaven on earth, not further away. The essence of the social contract is that each of us must submit to the laws we collectively create in exchange for peace and stability.

I know some of you must be scared, and I am scared too, because humans are wired to indulge in illusions of hope. When painful reality comes, we often close our eyes and dare not face it. We would rather listen to the song of the siren until we are turned into beasts. This is not something to be ashamed of, it is human nature.

But, gentlemen, when we put on this uniform, we cease to represent ourselves as individuals. We are the police, the embodiment of order. What we face is not a battle for personal honor, but a battle to defend the concept of the rule of law.

Every person who takes to the streets and attempts to disrupt order with violence is a challenge to our common beliefs. Faced with such challenges, we must, as John Milton said: stand up and defend the supreme truth.

We choose to come forward, and it does not come lightly. We choose to step up because of the difficulty!

At this moment, as practitioners of British law, we will be like a lighthouse and a morning star, guiding the lost ships through the starry night to the land of extreme daylight where darkness is invisible. The task of the brave is not to promote chaos, but to maintain order!

We must bravely stand on the front line and take on the responsibilities no matter what role fate assigns to us.

Do it! As it says in the Gospel: Let your light shine before others, so that they can see your good deeds. You are the light of the world. A city built on a mountain cannot be hidden.

We will turn into firewood and burn ourselves, just like a candle offering to light up the fog in London.

We will spread our blood and nourish the vast soil, just for the flowers of order to bloom on the high hills in the mountains.

Do it! Let’s use the afterglow of the setting sun to light up the night, because I know that we will eventually stand on the top of the world like a city on a mountain, admired by everyone! ! ! "

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, the police team immediately erupted with an alarming volume.

"Yes, sir!!!"

Arthur ripped off the rope of the carriage, got on his horse, drew his sword and shouted: "Boys, all of us! Run towards the Financial City!"

…

Boom!

In Bentham's apartment, the old man was lying weakly on the bed.

Butler Andrew sat next to him and held his cold hand. Suddenly, he noticed that Bentham's fingers moved slightly.

Bentham struggled to open half of his eyelids, and with his skinned, dry lips, using up his little life force, he asked: "Ann, Ann...Drew...is it thundering outside?"

After hearing this, Andrew looked up at the smoke and falling raindrops in the sky, and nodded slightly: "That's right, Mr. Bentham. It's raining in London."