The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1128: Chapter 109: Sausage Tactics (Part 2)

Arthur asked, “If that’s the case, why don’t you order beer?”

Bismarck deftly popped the cork from the wine bottle and filled his glass to the brim. “My mother is worried that I’ll pick up the bad habit of alcohol addiction in university, so she forbids me to drink beer. I’m a good boy. If she tells me not to drink, I won’t. Besides, wine and spirits are just the same.”

Arthur glanced at this rebellious youngster, shook his head, and laughed twice. Then he pointed to the wooden menu hanging above the owner’s head and said, “One dark lager, and a plate of steaming white sausages with sauerkraut.”

The owner, hearing this, turned around and dug sausages and sauerkraut from the boiling pot behind him and placed them in front of Arthur.

Just as Arthur was about to start, suddenly, the owner handed over a small plate, on which were neatly arranged two dark green pickles.

Then, he took the liberty of pouring Arthur a small glass of pale yellow cider.

Before Arthur could ask, the usually reticent owner spoke. “You seem like a new face, probably your first time in Gottingen, right? Consider those pickles as a gift from me. As for the cider, it’s our local specialty. If you don’t try it, this trip will be in vain.”

Hearing this, Arthur knew that his previous feelings were indeed correct. This place was very similar to the village taverns in York; although it seemed a bit rustic and somewhat backward, there was a strong sense of camaraderie.

In such local taverns, alcohol is not just a drink, and meals are more than just meals; it acts as a social tool among neighbors.

People celebrate, express friendship, and even resolve disputes through clinking glasses.

In such places, village news always spreads the fastest, whether it’s a neighbor’s marriage or a new policy in town; it will always be hotly discussed in the tavern.

Religious beliefs are also an indispensable part of such taverns. The cross and saint icons in the corner, though usually ignored, become the focal point during religious festivals, making the tavern the liveliest place.

Arthur raised his cider with a smile and shouted to the owner, “Cheers, sir, to Holy Mary and to Gottingen!”

The few red-faced patrons sitting next to Arthur also laughed and raised their glasses. “True! To Holy Mary, to Gottingen, and may we have a great harvest this year!”

The owner, seeing this, gave a shy smile and nodded slightly in response to the guests’ toast.

Bismarck, seeing Arthur so quickly blend in with the tavern’s patrons, couldn’t help but hold this British Knight in higher esteem.

He spoke, “I heard you’re from London. I didn’t expect you to be such a natural in the countryside as well.”

“Is that so strange?” Arthur took a gulp of beer, contentedly exhaling a long breath. “I must correct you a bit. I’m not from London; I’m a genuine countryman. Of course, I don’t mean I’m an American. I’m a proper English gentleman from York, not some hillbilly from New York, America.”

“I know, of course,” Bismarck responded sourly. “If you weren’t English, how could you be the Academic Director of Gottingen University at your age? A little professor like Dalman from Germany, he couldn’t hope to become the Chancellor of Gottingen University even after a lifetime.”

“Hmm?”

Although Arthur had been engaged in deep conversations with Bismarck for several days, it was the first time he had heard a genuine remark from this guy’s mouth.

Arthur asked, “Otto, I disagree with your opinion. Although I haven’t shared this view with others yet, as the National Special Representative of Gottingen University, I’m actually considering recommending Professor Friedrich Dahlman as the next Chancellor of Gottingen University. If he performs well in this role, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s elected into the Hanover Kingdom’s Cabinet as a Cabinet Minister in the future.”

Upon hearing this, Bismarck felt even more prickly all over. “Really? Then Dalman is quite lucky, but I still don’t think he’ll achieve anything significant. In the affairs of Germany, or politics here, you foreigners don’t understand a thing.”

“How so?”

Arthur looked at the young man in front of him, only eighteen, and found his critique of politics at such a young age genuinely amusing.

Though he was Bismarck, he was still just an eighteen-year-old Bismarck. The biggest crises he had faced might have been debts and being confined in a detention room.

As for politics, unless you’ve personally experienced those bizarre events, you’ll never truly understand how bad things are.

But Bismarck didn’t care how Arthur saw him. At eighteen, young people never believe their political views are terrible.

Bismarck spoke indignantly.

“Throughout Germany, whether in Prussia or Hanover, foreigners have received too many privileges! Our government genuinely believes that foreigners are more talented than the Deutsch. They think we native rural nobility do not have the capabilities expected in politics or the talents needed to make up for the various existing shortcomings in each department.

My mother sent me to Gottingen to study law, but what good is that university degree? In Prussia, for a juror of the appeals court or a government judge with no connections to Cabinet Ministers or senior officials, if he doesn’t spend decades on the monotonous bureaucratic ladder attracting attention from above and getting promoted, he practically has no hope of participating in Prussian politics.