The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1277: Chapter 162: The Dilemma of a Rational Prisoner

Arthur Hastings’s first exile began. The former senior head of the London police lived in a luxurious mansion in the small town of Gottingen, although life here could not compare to the opulence of London and Paris. Yet, he enjoyed power equivalent to that of a sovereign prince. At only twenty-four, he had already fully experienced the hardships and joys, successes and misfortunes of a political career, the eternal ebb and flow within the tides of fate.

He had tasted the favor of the powerful and felt the despair in times of downfall. He had once been impoverished, worried about daily bread. Now, he was a wealthy man admired by some, loathed by others, respected by a few, and despised by many—now, as a Junior Knight, National Special Representative, and Academic Director at the University of Gottingen, possessing wealth worth tens of thousands of pounds, he obeyed only his will and belonged to no one. He could leisurely rest in Gottingen’s great library, renowned throughout Europe.

He would ride in a carriage decorated with intricate patterns, slowly taking strolls, visiting the famous noble families of the Kingdom of Hanover, accepting loud praise from the small town of Gottingen and whispered sympathy from London. He no longer had to engage in the annoying tasks of dealing with foolish officials and tyrannical masters daily. If you believed the contented look on his face, then Arthur Hastings truly felt the comfort of shedding official duties.

Hastings’s memoirs, much like himself, were unreliable. This stubborn man, who seldom spoke, never revealed the whole truth even in death. Most people spoke to express thoughts, but Hastings spoke to hide his. Afraid others might discover his secrets, he took them to the grave, ensuring he remained forever a fog on London’s streets, a vague mystery in the night, an enigmatic shadow.

However, there was a section in his doubtful memoirs that revealed his contented demeanor was nothing but a pretentious guise—the ingrained habit of wanting to know everything haunted him, the desire to glimpse secrets tormented him, making the ”exile life” in Hanover extremely comfortable yet monotonous and dull. Whenever he encountered boredom, he could not escape the peculiar habit that unknowingly formed.

According to his confession, the charm of his ”retirement life” did not lie in the charming scenery glimpsed during brief stays in Paris, nor the inspired vitality obtained from immersing in the sea of natural philosophy. It came from the enjoyment of sorting complex newspaper headlines, street rumors, and gossip, analyzing valuable intelligence from them.

”With the help of trustworthy friends and loyal messengers, I arranged a secret communication. Regular greeting letters from a few London friends supported this secret channel. And the unexpected visits from Heinrich, Alexander, and others, together with the budding friendship with Garibaldi and members of Young Italy, extended my intelligence network to Genoa and Paris. And Sir Auguste Schneider, we have been close friends confiding in each other since then. I appreciated the local specialties he brought back for me from Munich; the Munich lagers paired well with pretzels. The sudden arrival of the Duke of Sussex also made me realize that my significance to this country and the Royal Family might be more than just taking a bullet. Though it might sound conceited, yes, it made me quietly proud.”

Denying this restless man official duties only made them his pastime. Not allowed to enter White Hall, he yearned for it. He thought, at least through others’ eyes, he could peek through the keyhole and, with others’ ears, eavesdrop on meetings, especially on whether there might finally be a chance to recommend himself for a comeback.

This prisoner did not rejoice in leaving the ”cell.” Others posted bail to be released from jail, but he exhausted every resource, spent considerable financial and mental effort, solely to return to the ”prison,” to squeeze to the betting table of historical times to play another round.

—Stephen Zweig, ”Arthur Hastings: The Ambition of a Rational Prisoner Driven”

Persuading Lionel to focus on railway investments was not difficult.

Even before the railway craze hit the London Financial City, Rothschild had already noted the enormous investment potential behind railway construction.

The first passenger railway in Britain, the Manchester-Liverpool Railway, which killed former State Minister Hesketh, was financed and constructed through Rothschild Bank. After this railway’s success, Rothschild, having tasted success, soon set sights on the Great Western Railway, the largest and most discussed during the railway construction boom, and made considerable profits with Arthur, Disraeli, and others.

However, investing in Hanover’s railway was not as straightforward as investing in British railways.

Rothschild was not short of funds; they lacked foolproof policies.

After proposing the railway construction plan, it needed approval from Parliament.

If this were in Britain, Lionel wouldn’t even need to spend heavily to find out which railway companies might receive construction approval that year because Disraeli currently served in the Lower House’s Committee on Railways and Industrial Infrastructure, which handled this matter.