shadow of britain

Chapter 151 The King's Speech ([-] in [-])

In the pouring rain, a thick wall was formed, which blocked the connection between people. Even if the distance was less than one meter, they could not touch the hearts of the companions around them.

Under the Arch of Wellington is the smallest police station in the London area. It is often ridiculed for being too small, but today, it has the strongest police force in Greater London Metropolitan Police.

More than 300 police officers were temporarily recruited from nearby places and gathered here.

On the road covered with plaster, there are layers of roadblocks, and there are several carriages parked under the arches. They are the weapons that Police Officer Tony borrowed from the Tower of London Armory according to Arthur's instructions. Iron shield with some rust.

From the mud formed after the surface of the shield is mixed with rainwater, it can be seen that these antiques must have been stored for some years. They may have been made in the 16th century, or the 17th century, the Middle Ages, or the Renaissance. No one knows. Their true ages, perhaps only the ravens raised in the Tower of London and passed down from generation to generation know their specific origins.

With the assistance of several police officers, Arthur stepped on the roof of the carriage and jumped onto the platform set up by wooden boxes earlier in the morning.

Behind him is the majestic, nearly 50-meter-high Wellington Arc de Triomphe, on which stands the Duke of Wellington's prancing horse towering like a giant under the sky and bringing a heavy sense of oppression like a dark and gloomy sky statue.

The rain washed over the bronze statue over and over again, and the rain poured like a waterfall on Arthur's shoulders, but it couldn't shake his body at all. This was not because he could bear the power of the rain, but because he It was found that the eyes of many police officers below had shaken.

He knew they didn't want to do the job, and maybe it would be better to let them go back to patrolling in the rain than to let them do this.

But at such an emergency, someone must stand up, and Scotland Yard must be ready for the first security crackdown mission since its establishment.

Arthur's gaze swept over the eyes of everyone present, his eyes were slightly red, and it was unknown whether it was because of Agares or the rain.

The figure of the Red Devil floated behind him, and Arthur's penetrating voice pierced through the rain, shaking the eardrums of every police officer present, whether they were willing or not, this deafening and soul-shaking voice would directly into their ears.

"My colleagues, and every honorable officer at Scotland Yard. It is a pleasure to see you here, braved the rain, the muddy roads, the difficult tasks, the long distances you were called from The various police districts are transferred here.

With your consistent courage and responsible attitude, you have once again proved why the Greater London Metropolitan Police Service is worthy of the trust of the public, the affirmation of the cabinet and the parliament, and every coin you get. make.

I, Arthur Hastings, stand here today, as you can see, a pair of white gloves, a tuxedo uniform, no police knife and flintlock pistol, but only a civilized staff .

I am not ordering you as the superintendent of Scotland Yard East London, but as a veteran patrol officer who has worked on the front line for a year, I want to talk to you about our past, present and future problems. Those problems that have been encountered or will be encountered soon! "

Accompanied by Arthur's roar, he swung his clenched fist violently into the air, his powerful arms pierced through the rain curtain, and the thumping sound seemed to be able to shatter the air.

Only a thunderbolt was heard, and the lightning pierced the gloomy sky in London, and everything was plunged into darkness. The only thing that could be seen in the eyes of more than 300 Scotland Yard police officers was the stalwart statue of Duke Wellington illuminated by lightning and the covered In the dark shadow of the statue, those red eyes gleamed.

The figure of Arthur seems to overlap with the Duke of Wellington. It seems that the statue standing under the Arc de Triomphe is not the superintendent Arthur Hastings of Scotland Yard, but Wellington galloping on the battlefield of Waterloo. Duke Arthur Wellesley.

Several superintendents who followed Arthur and retired from the army felt goosebumps all over their bodies. They couldn't help but subconsciously uttered a swear word, which was not an insult, but an expression of emotion.

"Holy Shit!"

All the police officers present took a deep breath, and their flustered hearts gradually calmed down. Each of them focused their attention on Arthur. Even when they were praying in church, they had never been so focused as they are now.

Although the heavy rain was majestic and the water was pouring, they could no longer hear those noises. All they could hear was Arthur's voice, the beating of their own heart competing with the thunder.

"We are not thugs, we are not accomplices, we are just a group of former shoemakers, blacksmiths, carpenters, grooms, thatchers, fitters, builders, bakers, and unemployed workers and landless farmers!

We come from all over the world, from all over the country, English, Scots, Welsh, and Irish among us, but in the end we are all the public and citizens of Great Britain!

The words in "Police Instructions" are not fucking farting. The words 'the police are the public, and the public is the police' are neither trying to make a big deal for you, nor are they trying to make the public relax their vigilance against us!
It's because, before putting on this tuxedo, our group of people is really just a group of ordinary people who are no different from the parade public today!
The relationship between the public and the police has been established as early as the "Winchester Act" in 1285. At that time, the sheriff was selected from the public, and citizens with good conduct and good behavior in the parish were responsible for duty in turn. The tradition continues to this day!
That's why I see so many strong, kind, upright lads standing here!

Today, we are going to suppress a demonstration initiated by workers. I don’t shy away from talking about the purpose of our actions, and I also understand the more or less resistance in your hearts with empathy.

I know you are skeptical about today's actions, but I must also repeat what the government is doing to improve the living conditions of workers.

In 1802, our immediate boss, Sir Robert Peel Sr., the father of Home Secretary Sir Robert Peel, resolved this problem by asking Parliament to pass an Apprentice Health and Morals Act, which is not only British history but world history The first factory law dedicated to protecting workers' rights!
It stipulates that the daily working hours of apprentices should not exceed 12 hours, improve the sanitation and ventilation conditions of the factory, and require the factory to allow each apprentice to receive at least one educational content in reading, writing, or arithmetic during working days and business hours.

In 1815, Sir Robert Peel Sr. proposed another amendment and expanded the scope of controlled factories to cotton, wool, linen and other hard-hit areas where child labor was abused. The amendment strictly stipulated that child labor under the age of 18 should The working hours shall not exceed ten and a half hours, and factory owners are ordered to provide one and a half hours of reading, writing, and arithmetic education for child laborers who have worked in the factory for the first four years.

In 1819, textile factories were prohibited from employing child laborers under the age of 9. In all factories, child laborers under the age of 16 were not allowed to work more than 12 hours a day, and factories had to arrange half an hour for breakfast and one hour for dinner.

Yes, you may say that these laws have not really played a role, because they all lack proper supervision, so they have not been enforced strongly.

That's right!That's why workers took to the streets to protest.

I don't mean to defend the government, I just want to let everyone understand that the British cabinet is still operating normally, and it is still introducing new ones and constantly amending laws.

Because everyone understands that our police in Scotland Yard are not allowed to have political positions. The purpose of our existence is to help the society create a good environment for normal communication. Finally, let the workers break through our defense line, which led to the dispatch of military police!

Let the workers go back not to destroy freedom, nor to guard this soulless sculpture behind me, because everyone understands that this triumphal arch has another alias, it is called the 'Constitutional Arch'!
The original intention of Scotland Yard was to patrol so far and work so long every day, in order to maintain the constitutional tradition and social order that have been passed down since the bloodless 'Glorious Revolution' in 1688!
If the situation is allowed to continue to expand, we may witness bloody incidents one after another, and we will take responsibility to refuse history from repeating itself!

We are not allowed to see the next Peterloo Massacre, St. George Field, Gordon Riot, or the fucking Catholic Queen Riot!

Our mission is, has been, and will continue to be to protect the property and life of the public!

Much of the public thinks, and even many of us think, that Scotland Yard is nothing more than a year-old organization with no trace of our law enforcement and ruthless style of ours!
They think that we are just a group of violent machines that exist to deal with the public and squeeze the living space of small traders, workers, prostitutes and a group of poor people!

They call us 'Blue Devils', 'Lobster Claws', 'Peel's Accomplices', 'British French Gendarmerie', 'Government Killing Guards'!
Most of the headlines in the news about us Scotland Yard officers have 'brutal' 'tyrannical' 'vicious' 'thugs'!
But here today, right here, we are going to make it clear to the public and to society across Great Britain that they are wrong, they are wrong! ! ! "

There was another thunderbolt, and as lightning flashed across the sky, rain dripped down the jaws of more than 300 police officers. The sky was still gloomy, but at least there was some light in their eyes.

They were divided into fifteen queues and stood straight, and in the aisle left in the middle of the queue, Officer Tony was distributing those old-looking shields to their hands one by one.

The weight of the shield weighed heavily on their shoulders, but the weight of the shield in their hands lightened the weight of the stone in their hearts.

Several superintendents from Scotland Yard looked at the approaching demonstrators in the distance. Maybe it was lightning that ignited their long-suppressed enthusiasm, or they thought that the roadblocks in front of them were a provocation to them.

Among the irrational crowd, there have been scenes of smashing the glass of roadside shops and besieging nearby policemen.

The sound of shattering glass, cries of fear and anger disrupts an already fragile and delicately balanced environment.

When a policeman was pushed to the ground, four or five workers came around and beat and kicked him in an instant. After the irritated policemen endured for a while, they finally couldn't help but began to fight back with their civilized sticks around their waists.

After a while, I saw people in the demonstrators and the police group with bloody heads. The blood reflected red on the workers' unlined clothes and the police's blue tuxedo, as well as on the ground. It was hard to tell whether it was clean or dirty. Gray water.

Several superintendents spat on the ground, and pulled out their civilized staffs to use them as commanding staffs.

They glanced at the Scotland Yard police officers who had equipped their shields and formed a phalanx, and several superintendents grinned and cursed.

"Damn it, it feels better than a war. Superintendent Hastings is kind of a morale booster."

"After all, they are all called Arthur, so there must be some charm of the Duke of Wellington, right?"

"A shield with a commanding staff is a bit like the Middle Ages."

"Stop talking nonsense, are you going to go?"

Several police superintendents looked at each other, then turned around in unison, and saluted Arthur against the heavy rain: "The London Metropolitan Police Force, all major districts and branches, have all been reorganized, Commander, please give an order! "

Arthur glanced at the crowd in the distance, took a deep breath, his neck burst out with blue veins, and his voice penetrated every eardrum and every piece of glass present.

"Listen to my orders! The divisions of the various divisions formed a character formation, ran forward, attacked the demonstrators, and compressed the demonstrators! Anyone who resorted to violence will be arrested and free to use civilized sticks, shields and other weapons!"

As soon as Arthur gave an order, the whistles of several superintendents of the London Metropolitan Police immediately replaced the thunder and became the sharpest and harshest sound off the field.

"Follow the whistle, run in small steps!"

Beep, beep, beep...

Under the command of the superintendents, the police phalanx moved forward a little clumsily. They held iron shields and rubbed their shoulders against their shoulders. At first, they were not used to it, but after a short adjustment, they quickly moved forward piecemeal and orderly. stride.

At the beginning, the whistle was very slow, but when they gradually approached the demonstrators, the whistle of the superintendents suddenly became shrill and urgent.

Beep beep beep! ! !
"Shock!!!"

Accompanied by the howls of the superintendents, the police phalanx hit the demonstrators like a waving brick. The unorganized and unprepared workers were staggered by them. The front team wanted to retreat, but the rear The team still doesn't understand what's going on.

It's like a sandwich, they're all crammed together.

But a terrified cry of 'the police are dispatched' quickly caused panic and confusion among the demonstrators.

With the civilized sticks whipping on their heads like whips, some workers wanted to escape, while others wanted to resist.

In Arthur's eyes, he only saw a man in a short-sleeved shirt with a bloody side face from a beating pointing at him from a distance.

Just as Arthur caught a glimpse of him, so Agares, riding on the head of the statue of Wellington, saw the man.

The Red Devil raised his brows suddenly, he snapped his fingers with a smirk, and suddenly amplified the man's voice in Arthur's ear.

Arthur was taken aback suddenly, no one knew what he heard, they only saw Arthur's hand fumbling for something in his pocket.

His throat was dry and itchy, and he wanted to smoke something, but he fumbled around for a while before remembering that he had given Tony what was there.

Those who watched him around probably thought that he was surprised by the rumbling thunder and lightning, while the London citizens standing in front of the windows on the side of the road thought he was surprised by the bloody and violent images.

After losing consciousness, people only saw that the young superintendent of Scotland Yard didn't say anything. He just stood there alone, under the statue of Wellington, like a shadow that no one cared about.

Arthur raised his hand to wipe his rain-stained face. He didn't make any expression, and he didn't know what expression to make.

He just couldn't forget the desperate roar of the man covering his bloody face before he fell to the ground.

Like a condemnation from the soul, and like a neighing from hell.

— Fuck you, you betrayed the working class!
Agares gently turned over the pages of the parchment in his hand, and slowly pushed his glasses.

The devil smiled and whispered: "Arthur... Maybe you are right, this is your destiny to become a king. Struggle or pain, all of this, you are not to blame for it?"

(End of this chapter)