shadow of britain

Chapter 559 Heine's Patriotism

Although it was still early in the morning, the office of the Dean of Students at the University of Göttingen was bustling with noise.

Arthur looked at the angry Assistant Dean Professor John Herbart in front of him and could only smile politely as if apologizing.

In Herbart's opinion, the new school director performed very well when he first took office. He not only relaxed the academic control of the campus and promoted the local free spirit, but also kept everything within a reasonable range.

But with the arrival of Heinrich Heine a few days ago, Herbart felt that the orderly, controlled and gradual reform atmosphere was broken. Students gathered wildly in the square, took off their hats and threw them high into the sky, and cheered various slogans that were strictly prohibited by the German Confederation Parliament.

However, Sir Arthur Hastings, a policing expert who was regarded as a conservative lackey in London, had no intention of stepping forward to cool down the situation.

Although Professor Herbart was also a liberal, he considered himself to be a conservative among liberals. He believed that if the situation was allowed to get out of control, the tragedy of the Frankfurt garrison incident would soon be repeated on the campus of Göttingen.

That was why Professor Herbart had rushed to the Dean's office early this morning and told Arthur in person that he hoped the Dean could show even half the courage he had at the Tower of London last June.

Arthur certainly understood the old professor's concerns, but the problem was that the professor who had lived on campus for a long time and the police chief who had long fought on the front line of counter-revolution had different perspectives on things.

In Arthur's opinion, compared with what happened in London last June, what the Göttingen students did was just like playing house.

They don't have a leader who is influential enough...

Oh, maybe now, but that leader is Heinrich Heine.

Secondly, even if they have a leader, they do not have a clear organizational structure.

Well... no, there is an organization now, but that organization is the Gestapo.

Finally, even if they have both, are these college students really dangerous?
hiss……

Arthur knew that there was such an organization. They had a clear leader, Giuseppe Mazzini, and a well-organized party called Young Italy. They even colluded with evil foreign forces.

But what about the results?

Ah!
They really did something big!

They have driven the performance of the news and publishing industries in the Italian states to grow by several percentage points.

But unfortunately, for the sake of protecting state secrets, Arthur could not tell Professor Herbart everything.

He could only say tactfully, "Mr. Herbart, please believe that things are not as bad as you think. I am a liberal, that's true, but I am also a German liberal like you. If things really reach the point of touching the bottom line, whether it is confinement or expulsion from school, I will definitely not be lenient."

Professor Herbart was obviously still worried: "What about Heinrich Heine? Are you going to let him speak nonsense on campus?"

"In fact, you should have more say than me about Heine."

Arthur stood up and paced in front of the window with his hands behind his back. He said, "We all know that Heine completed his undergraduate studies at the University of Bonn, the University of Göttingen and the University of Berlin. In these three schools, he was taught by Savigny, Hegel, Theolder, Schlegel and others. I don't think..."

Unexpectedly, before Arthur finished speaking, he was interrupted by Herbart: "Sir, you are just making a sophistry. Any student who studies law in these three schools will accept their teachings. I hope you should focus on why he went to three schools during his undergraduate studies."

Arthur did not directly refute Herbart, but asked: "If he was so bad, why did the academic committee allow him to finally complete his doctoral thesis in law in Göttingen?"

Herbart shook his head and sighed, "Sir, I never said Heinrich was bad. On the contrary, he was quite outstanding. His talent made Professor Gustav Hugo, the treasure of Göttingen and the representative of the historical school of law, couldn't help but admire him: Heine was not only a likable candidate for a doctorate in law, but also a poet who wrote a large number of popular poems. In Heine, literature and law are closely linked. It was precisely because of Hugo's appreciation of him that we reluctantly accepted this undergraduate who was once expelled from Göttingen."

Hearing this, Arthur could not help but return to the desk and write down this sentence: "You should have told me these things earlier. However, since Professor Hugo can vouch for him, can't I vouch for him?"

"This is different."

Professor Herbart insisted: "As the dean of the law school, it is Professor Hugo's freedom to accept any students he wants. As a professor of philosophy, I have no right to interfere. But Heine is not enrolled in the University of Göttingen as a student, and the current period is so sensitive that admitting him will definitely not be conducive to the overall development of the school."

"So, it's okay for him to be active outside the campus?"

Seeing Arthur's persistence, Herbart was silent for a long time and sighed, "This is my bottom line. You should also consider that the management work of the Punishment Student Committee is not easy to do."

"I understand your difficulties." Arthur put down his pen and stood up to see the guest off: "Don't worry, sir, if something really happens and the committee cannot control it, I will let the police intervene in the end."

Herbart stood by the door and shook his head: "I hope it won't come to that. I don't want the police to taint this pure land of academia even more than Heine does."

Click.

Herbart closed the door, and Arthur heard the footsteps fade away. Perhaps it was because of his occupational disease, he hummed a tune, took out a student file that had been dusted for many years from the drawer of his office, and started today's entertainment activities.

A striking name was written on the cover of the file - Heinrich Heine.

Most of the files of ordinary students are only a few thin pages, but Heine's file is almost as long as a novel.

Arthur first took out a thick stack of various warnings and punishments, then took out a few transcripts, and finally a stack of petitions in which Heine strongly appealed to the Disciplinary Student Committee.

While admiring these works of calligraphy from the great German poet, Arthur was secretly calculating how many tens of thousands of francs the University of Göttingen owed Heine over the years.

He was reading with great interest when suddenly, there was a click and the office door was pushed open.

With arrogance and contempt in his eyes, Heine walked to the opposite side of Arthur, pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his legs elegantly: "It's been eight years, and Göttingen is still like this."

Arthur swept the file bag under the table. "What's the matter? Heinrich, every time I return to the University of London, I only feel cordiality and pride, but you seem to have a different view on the word alma mater than I do."

Heine said with some disgust: "I don't hate Göttingen, but I hate many people here and those unreal words that make people crazy. For a long time, everything with the word patriotism has disgusted me. Those annoying fools work hard out of patriotism. They wear well-fitting work clothes and are really divided into three levels: master, assistant and apprentice. They exercise the same etiquette and fight in the country. Yes, I was indeed a little annoyed when I saw these disguised faces."

At this point, Heine changed the subject and said, "But this does not mean that I hate patriotism. I only hate German patriotism. France also has patriotism, and their patriotism also lies in loving their own country, but France is also a civilized country and a humane and progressive country. And what about German patriotism? On the contrary, German patriotism lies in hating the French, hating civilization and freedom. Therefore, since I praised France, I am not a German patriot. Now, do you know why I am angry?"

Arthur saw through Heine's thoughts at a glance: "It seems that not everyone in the student community in Göttingen welcomes their hero."

Heine wanted to curse, but before he could say anything, he seemed to have thought of something. The momentum that had just risen weakened, and even his eyes became much softer. "The love of freedom is a flower that blooms in prison. Only in prison can you feel the preciousness of freedom. Therefore, only when you reach the border of Germany will you develop a love for the German motherland, especially when you see that the land where I grew up is suffering from misfortune abroad, this love for the motherland becomes even stronger.

I don't want to flatter myself, but I will say that when I heard about the Frankfurt garrison and the passage of the Carlsbad Resolution by the German Confederation, I felt a strong desire to return here. It was not a sudden patriotism, but something nobler, kinder, and more simple: I wanted my hometown to be better. "

Heine leaned over the desk and sighed, "Perhaps I should thank Alexander. When he told me that we had entered Prussia, my heart was in my throat. I wanted to stuff this fat man into a sack and beat him up. But slowly, when the fear passed, I suddenly felt a sense of courage to face death. Let them come, the Prussian gendarmes, the Austrian police, let them come! Tell them that Heinrich Heine, whom they want to catch, is standing right here! Come on, shoot me!"

"Heinrich, if you really need me, I can always report to the Mainz Intelligence Office of the German Confederation."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I just want to tell you that I'm pretty good at playing a reactionary."

Heine rolled his eyes at him. "Sometimes I just can't understand you. Where do you stand? You're a student of Jeremy Bentham!"

Arthur smiled. "At the same time, I was a knight of William IV for three years. I have people on both sides, and I feel bad if either side suffers a loss. As you said, Heinrich, my position cannot be explained by narrow liberalism and patriotism."

Heine raised his eyebrows and asked, "So? You really won't report me to the Mainz Intelligence Office?"

"Of course not." Arthur smiled and replied: "If I really wanted to report it, how could I tell you?"

Heine was about to say something when he suddenly caught a glimpse of the document in Arthur's hand: "What are you looking at? Could it be the material to report me?"

"Nothing." Arthur dispelled Heine's doubts with one sentence: "If I really wanted to arrest you, why would I bother writing a letter of denunciation? I would have already done it now."

He stood up and sorted out the documents on his desk quite naturally. "Do you remember the friend I mentioned who was drifting in South America? This is the letter he sent me. It tells me about some reptiles he found in South America."

"Oh! Mr. Charles Darwin?"

Heine's eyes lit up and he said, "The author of the 'Diary of the Voyage of the Beagle'? That's a very good book. Although it has no literary merits, it is very interesting to read. To be honest, this is my favorite of the serial works of 'The Limey'."

Arthur smiled and put the document back into the drawer. "Heinrich, what you said is disrespectful to the author of The Flowers of Evil. Have you forgotten Mr. Elder Carter?"

"Damn it! Indeed, there is Carter! His poems are really weird, depravity, death, corruption, forbidden love, pain, constantly offending false social morality and public order!"

Heine showed great respect when talking about Carter: "Whether in terms of technique or subject matter, Carter is a genius. It's a pity that those vulgar people can't understand Carter's greatness. Even Carter himself dared to publish "Flowers of Evil" anonymously, and the British Book Committee even put this collection of poems on the banned list. This is really ironic."

Arthur had originally intended to distract Heine, but when he heard Heine's evaluation of Elder, the self-esteem of a higher species forced him to ask back: "If you really think this collection of poems is so good, why don't you write another one on the same subject?"

"Come on! This is what I admire about Carter, he actually dared to write those things on paper!"

Heine praised him: "I don't have his courage. What Britain cannot accept, probably not many people in France and Germany can accept. Apart from anything else, if I really wrote such a collection of poems, my uncle would probably break up with me completely."

"Uncle?" Arthur recalled. "Oh, I remember now, Mr. Solomon Heine, the big banker in Hamburg. Although you didn't seduce your two sisters, I remember that he seemed to have continued to support you over the years, right?"

"To be precise, he was supporting me until July this year. But after he heard that I accepted a subsidy from the French government, he stopped the funding."

"Well?" Arthur asked, "is your uncle a German patriot, too?"

"Oh..." Heine curled his lips and said, "He is just afraid that being too closely associated with me will affect his business. You have to understand that among those who work as bankers, there are not many patriots."

"What about your father?"

"My father? My father probably wouldn't care that I wrote about that kind of subject matter. He might even laugh and pat his son on the shoulder and say that the little boy in the Heine family has finally grown up. But unfortunately, that lively big boy died four years ago."

Heine turned his chair over and leaned on the back of it, his eyes showing a look of reminiscence: "In fact, one of the reasons why I went to live in England during that period was to commemorate him. He served in the Hanoverian army in the early days of the Napoleonic Wars. I still have a portrait of him at home, in which he is wearing the uniform of the British King's German Legion.

He had long, enviable hair, as smooth and golden as Chinese silk, but he insisted on wearing his long curls in a bun with a little comb, according to the Franconia custom, and then powdering his hair white, which, if you ask me, looked very stupid.

But there was no way, the old man liked it, and until the day he died, he still asked people to powder his head. But this also corresponds to his position in the Hanoverian army. He was a quartermaster in Prince Ernst's army. The Prussians generally called this position "mealworm".

Because of this experience, the old man boasted every day about how close his relationship with the prince was. He firmly believed all his life that Prince Ernst had never forgotten his old friend. But the embarrassing thing was that the old man himself could not explain why His Royal Highness had never sent anyone to look for him.

Arthur couldn't help but hold his chin up and smiled, "It sounds like you almost became a British citizen. After all, many people in the Royal German Legion later moved to Britain. Mr. Schneider's father from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs came to Britain at that time."

Heine shrugged and said, "Who knows? Life is so strange sometimes. After my father retired from the army, he moved to Düsseldorf and fell in love with my mother there. But unfortunately, my father developed some bad habits during his military career, so my mother could only help him change little by little."

"For example?"

Heine counted on his fingers, "That's a lot. Perhaps because of his frequent contact with the nobles, my father developed a hobby of playing high-level games. He likes to sponsor theatrical art, or, well, let me put it more bluntly, his real purpose is to protect those actresses who devote themselves to this field. In addition, he also learned all the nobles' hobbies of walking dogs and raising horses.

When my father first came to Düsseldorf, he was engaged in business, and he opened a silk shop. But his monthly income was not as much as his expenses. Before he married my mother, he raised twelve fat and strong horses. But my mother warned him that if he wanted to marry her, he had to sell all the animals first. Because these animals ate too much oats, but they could not return anything except horse manure.

My father had no choice but to surrender in front of love. He first sold his horse, and then his groom and hounds were also sent away by my mother. Only the ugliest spotted hound named Yoli was left behind. However, the reason why this dog was left behind was not because it was the most capable, but because it was the least capable one among the group of dogs.

"Huh?" Arthur asked, "Why do you have to keep this one?"

Heine recalled the funny things that happened in his childhood, and the poet, who was always cold and indifferent to venomous snakes, couldn't help laughing.

"My mother thought it was impossible for my father to take Jolly out hunting, as he was obviously not a hound. My father first found him at the door of the house, and he and my father exchanged a meaningful look, and then my father sighed, 'Ah, Jolly.' Jolly came toward my father, wagging his tail sadly.

At the time, I thought to myself that this dog was a flattering hypocrite. Facts proved my point. He was the only hound allowed to stay in my house. Unfortunately, my father did not have the vision to recognize his true face. When he was in the army, the nobles around him did not have the seriousness and honor of a soldier, so he was always like this, focusing not on courage but on superficial splendor.

But Yoli couldn't survive for the rest of his life. He had no skills and could only flatter his master. My father once saw his pet being kicked and crying out in a particularly pitiful way, so he admitted in a bad mood that the bastard was pretending. Later, Yoli got scabies and was covered with lice. My mother insisted on drowning him, and my father had no choice but to let it go without any objection.

So you see, Arthur, how different is the indifference of men in sacrificing their four-legged pets, from the indifference of kings in sacrificing their two-legged pets? Patriotism, it is a ridiculous word, and I would rather be driven away like those capable hounds than be drowned by my master like a hypocrite like Jolly.

(End of this chapter)