Chapter 273: Dickens’ Love History (K6)
Chapter 272 Dickens’ Love History (4K6)
Today’s London was still foggy with a hint of drizzle, the wind seeped into the house through the windows, and the chilly environment froze Arthur, who had just entered the door, couldn’t help but shiver.
Arthur pushed open the door of the room, collected the umbrella and put it into the umbrella tube beside the door, he exhaled white breath as he unwrapped his scarf and opened his mouth, “Charles, feel free to sit down.”
Dickens put away his umbrella and looked up and scanned the pitch-black interior of the house and joked, “This is too dark, doesn’t Alexander usually light up when he’s home?”
“Depends on his mood, but he really isn’t home today. At this hour, he’s either critiquing dishes at some restaurant on a London street corner or watching a play at some small street theater.”
Arthur leaned the two men’s soggy boots against the window sill and whirled around before unscrewing the oil lamp that sat on the dining room table.
He looked into the dim light of the room for a moment in hesitant contemplation before finally deciding to be extravagant and light the fireplace in the room.
Dickens leaned back on the sofa, and while watching Arthur make tea by the fireplace, he opened his mouth and asked, “So Alexander also likes to go to the little theater down the street to watch shows?”
Arthur removed two towels from the lavatory and tossed one to Dickens as he wiped his damp hair and asked, “It seems you like the little theater down the street as well? Is there something uniquely charming about it?”
“Well ……”
Dickens nodded with a smile, “A licensed grand theater like the Coburg Theater naturally has its own unique features, Shakespearean classics like Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello, and King Lear are only eligible to be staged in these formal theaters, and the ultimate goal of playwrights all over Europe is to bring their works to the stage here.
But while the small theaters near River Street were not eligible to stage Shakespeare’s regular plays, as a result of the Original Price Uprising of 1809 at the Covent Garden Theater, the Minister of the Palace, who was in charge of theatrical performances, was forced to concede to the citizens of London by opening up the eligibility to perform burlesque and some musical stage plays to the small, unlicensed theaters.”
“The Original Price Uprising?” Arthur put two tea bags into a white porcelain teacup and brewed it with hot water, “There was also an uprising in London in 1809?”
“Not a real uprising, just an ordinary riot borrowing the name of an uprising.”
Dickens, who was quite observant of London’s city life, laughed loudly and said, “You know, the citizens of London are just like this, from the beginning of London’s inhabited, the residents of this place are always looking for an opportunity to riot and march on the streets. Although our means of rioting is not as extreme as the Parisian citizens, but can not stand the Londoners riot frequently ah!”
Arthur, who has been a police officer in Scotland Yard for almost three years, thought deeply, “When I was still in college, my professor popularized the long tradition of riots in London. The reasons for the riots were varied, and for the more grandiose ones, there were those who wanted to overthrow the king, those who wanted to demolish the Houses of Parliament, and those who wanted to fuck up the cabinet. For those concerned with people’s livelihoods, there were those who protested against the rising price of rice and entered the market to seize food, and those who complained that wages were too low and therefore destroyed factory machinery. Then there are those who are bored and want to meddle in the king’s affairs, those who don’t like the new queen and want to protest, and those who want to march against the king and queen’s divorce. Let me guess, this original price uprising you’re talking about wouldn’t be a protest against theater ticket price increases, would it?”
Dickens smiled and took a sip of tea, “Arthur, you are worthy of being a detective, and you really let you guess right. At that time, the Covent Garden Theater was hit by a fire and had just been rebuilt. In order to recover the construction costs, the theater manager added a new layer of private boxes, exclusively for the enjoyment of the rich, and the ticket prices of other seats also rose.
However, this angered the public, who rioted and seized the theater, and the trumpets and drums sounded for two months, so eventually the theater manager and the Minister of the Palace had to make concessions to the public.
Arthur raised an eyebrow and said, ”Luckily, there was no Scotland Yard at that time, otherwise it would have been really difficult for us to deal with this kind of thing when we ran into it. After all, our police officers aren’t exactly well-paid, but they do have a need to see the theater. But then again, with the price hike at Covent Garden, why don’t they go elsewhere to see a play? With all due respect, the plays there are all of excellent quality, but seeing two or three of them is pretty much all you need to do, and seeing more than one is still pretty pointless.”
Dickens spoke up, “It’s not that the citizens don’t want to go to the theater elsewhere. But before the ban on small theater performances was lifted in 1809, there were only two regular theaters in London that had been granted royal warrants, one was the Covent Garden Theater and the other was the Drury Lane Theater.
In those days, these two theaters not only performed elegant plays and musicals, as they do to-day, but also ran such popular curiosities as lion-taming in cages, or horse-riding, as are now to be seen in the small theaters. I have heard some old Londoners say that the layout of the theater in those days was different from what it is now. The theater was divided into four floors, the third floor is reserved for the rich and nobles, there are also two royal boxes. And in the bottom of the main hall in addition to selling sitting tickets, but also selling standing tickets.
When the play started, the audience went around joking with friends beside them, or shouting greetings to friends in the upstairs boxes, and there was a lot of noise and clamor everywhere. That’s why people said that only actors who had been through Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatre could really call themselves actors in London.”
Arthur nodded softly, “That sounds pretty hilarious. According to this, tickets shouldn’t have been too expensive back then, should they?”
Dickens smiled back, “Indeed it wasn’t expensive, even ordinary people could go to the theater once in a while. I have heard those people say that when the theater opened in winter, citizens living in all parts of London, after work in the evening, could buy a ticket in the main hall for four pence each time, and have a good time. For two or three pence more, they could buy a large glass of ale and a side order of fish and chips at the theater bar. If you go out to a dozen pence, then you can buy a couple of meat dishes, like wolfsbread or something.”
Arthur just felt weird hearing that, and he stared at Dickens for a long time before he suddenly clenched his jaw and spoke, “Charles.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Is this London you’re talking about? Why do I get the feeling it’s Luton?”
Dickens froze at first, then clapped his hands and laughed, “Arthur really can’t keep anything from you.”
“What? You got a new pen name, Zhou Shuren?”
“Arthur, are you kidding me again?”
Dickens chuckled, “But you’re right, wolfsbread does come from Luton in Bedfordshire. Flour mixed with water and slate oil rolled into a roll with salted ham and bacon on one end and dipped in applesauce on the other. But as good as the wolfsbread is, I still prefer the other offerings in the pub, such as the beef loin pudding stuffed with beef and beef loin and deep-fried and coated in gravy, or the famous Cornish vegetable pie or whatever it is.”
Arthur took a sip of tea and rubbed his stomach, “I’m kinda hungry when you say it like that. Then again, did the citizens who watched the theater in the main hall often eat these things you mentioned back then?”
Dickens shook his head, “How could that be? The guests in the main hall were mostly those who worked as laborers in the docks or factories, and they were by and large not so generous. Only those in tuxedos would pace into the bar room, ask for wine and food, and sit and drink slowly while watching the theater. And most of the bachelors who sell their labor, even if they have money, don’t spend it on food. Arthur, you should also know that most prostitutes bought special season tickets to get in and out of the theater in order to make a living. There were only two regular theaters in all of London at that time, so there was no shortage of customers when they went to that place. Whether it was in the hall or the bar, they could do business.”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but raise his finger and tap the tabletop, “I thought that this phenomenon was only in recent years, but it turns out that this has been going on for decades? Charles, if you hadn’t told me, I almost let the Bishop of Exeter fool me.”
Dickens asked, “What did he blindside you about?”
Arthur said helplessly, “Nothing more than accusing Scotland Yard of doing things badly. He said that the original intention of establishing Scotland Yard in the first place was to eradicate all sorts of evils that existed in the society, yet more than two years have passed, and Scotland Yard has delivered an answer sheet that actually has eighty thousand prostitutes lying on it.”
Dickens wondered, “I was going to ask you about this before, is the situation in London really that bad now? Are there really eighty thousand prostitutes in London as the Bishop said, or eight thousand as Scotland Yard reported?”
Arthur didn’t want to lie to his friend, he just waved his hand and said, “Neither.” Dickens asked, “You mean the Bishop exaggerated and Scotland Yard under-reported?”
Dickens had just gotten to this point when, suddenly, the door to the room was pushed open and Dumas walked in with his pompadour covered in fallen water.
Dumas noticed the light in the room and turned his head, “Yo! If it isn’t Charles! You’re not here to deliver my manuscript, are you?”
Dickens pulled the manuscript out of his carry-on bag and placed it on the table, “The manuscript is due, of course, but I’m discussing the number of prostitutes with Arthur right now.”
Alexandre Dumas put down his umbrella with a hearty laugh at his words, “Do you even need to ask? What on earth has gotten into you that you want to believe Scotland Yard’s statistics.”
Dickens wondered, “Alexander, why do you say that?”
Arthur took a sip of tea and spoke, “That’s because Alexander has suffered from statistics. He told me before that when he was in Paris, Mr. Leonor, the president of the Paris Statistical Society, was his friend. Whenever that guy gave an example of statistics, he always liked to make fun of Alexander’s mistresses and the number of illegitimate children.
At that time, Alexandre was already famous in Paris because he had written a play. He invited Alexander to give a speech at the annual meeting of the Statistical Society. As a result, Alexander disliked Mr. Leonor with just one sentence in his speech.”
“What did Alexander say?”
Arthur spoke, “He said: all statistics are false, and that includes the ones about myself.”
Dumas casually took the bottle from the liquor cabinet and poured a glass, “Am I wrong? Aren’t all statistics based on demand? Lionel knew that making fun of my private life would draw applause from his audience, so he liked to exaggerate the number of my mistresses and illegitimate children. According to him, half the women of Paris could be related to me.
As for Scotland Yard and the Bishop of Exeter, one of you wants to avoid responsibility and the other wants to lure the faithful into coming to church, so of course what you say is not credible.
Charles, instead of trusting them, you should instead wait for Elder to return from the sea and consult him directly. After all, Elder may not know much in other areas, but he is still very attentive when it comes to favoring stragglers. Oh yes, you should also be aware that Elder’s figures may also be a bit larger than the real ones, as his statistics occasionally extend to Paris and men by accident.”
Arthur shrugged his shoulders at that, “Alexander, you just said you couldn’t possibly relate to half the ladies in Paris, and now you’re starting to believe in Elder’s abilities? While it’s true that Scotland Yard’s numbers are on the small side, even the subjects we’ve actually identified are 8,600.”
Dickens took a deep breath at that, “Arthur, so do you think it’s realistic if you count on 30,000?”
Arthur thought for a moment, “I think it’s probably about right, most of those 8,600 people identified by Scotland’s Place have been in the profession for a long time. But some of the ladies were not in the business for the long term, but dabbled in it for a period of time because of short term financial difficulties. Once their economy turns around, they will simply leave the profession. These people come and go, and others are more covert mistresses and concubines, which is the fundamental reason why it is difficult for Scotland Yard to recognize the whole picture of this business. Like I said earlier, there are always a few organized rogues, most fly solo.”
Dickens heard this and suddenly spoke, “That …… Arthur, I have a request, I wonder if you would like to hear it?”
“What?” Arthur remembered Dickens’ previous habit of frequently visiting various slums in London to investigate, and opened his mouth to ask, “Do you want to do a documentary interview with them?”
“No, not an interview.”
Dickens shook his head, “I’m not a journalist now, and although I still maintain the habit of visiting the field, it’s no longer my duty to write news. I was thinking of doing something for these ladies. You see, I’ve earned some money now, and my life is a little better than it used to be. Just as you helped me before, I want to help others now.
Like putting aside a sum of money to set up a place that will help them acquire job skills and provide temporary housing so they can have a chance to get out of this business. To tell you the truth, I’ve been working on this since I saw that news report earlier, and I’ve named the place Urania House. Would you be willing to work with me on behalf of Scotland Yard?”
Hearing this, the Red Devil on the side couldn’t help but whistle, “Urania, the muse of astronomy and astrology, that’s a pretty chick. Arthur, this little fellow of yours is really getting literary.”
Dumas sniffed and couldn’t help but joke about Dickens, “Charles, no? Tell me, did you come up with this name? It couldn’t have been the beautiful young lady who accompanied you the last time I saw her, could it?”
“Huh?” Dickens sniffed, “When did you see that?”
“Come on, Charles.” Dumas raised his elbow and poked Dickens, “Come on tell the gang, what’s the lady’s name and how far have you gotten with her.”
Dickens smiled coyly, “It’s nothing really, we’re just ordinary friends. Her name is Maria, you may not know about her, but you and Arthur may have heard of her father. His father is that Mr. Bidnell of Financial City, who has business dealings with both the Bank of Bahrain and the Rothschild Bank.”
Dumas couldn’t help but inhale and flirt at that, “A banker’s daughter? Charles, you’re aiming pretty high here!”
“No, no. Alexander, don’t say that.” Dickens blushed, “Of course, I can’t deny that I do have a glimmer of something nobler than friendship in mind for her, but I don’t know what she thinks yet. It’s hard to say whether this will work out or not.”
Dumas said, unconcerned, “Charles, what do you care? If you like it, put on some guts and cower, you won’t please a girl that way.”
Dumas’s words just fell, suddenly, outside the door rang again a burst of urgent knocking sound.
Shy Dickens hurriedly got up to open the door, in order to leave this place of wrongdoing.
But to his surprise, he just pulled open the door of the room, he saw a rain-covered Disraeli like a leopard out of the cage scampered in.
Disraeli rushed to Arthur’s front and fiercely opened his mouth to inquire, “Arthur, is it true that Gladstone is going to Scotland Yard to work as a psychological counselor?”
Arthur took a sip of his tea and gently put down his teacup, smiling and raising an eyebrow as he asked, “What? Does this proud gentleman also have an idea about helping these ladies who have inadvertently lost their way?”
(End of chapter)