The Shadow of Great Britain

40: Chapter 2: The Donkey Problem in the House of Commons and House of Lords 40: Chapter 2: The Donkey Problem in the House of Commons and House of Lords In the corner café, Darwin and Arthur sat in a secluded corner, discussing various topics as several of Darwin’s textbooks from his time at Edinburgh University lay spread out before them.

Darwin shared with Arthur the pharmacological knowledge he had accumulated throughout his life, and Arthur listened quietly, occasionally picking up his pen to jot down points he deemed important on his manuscript paper.

Whenever Darwin reached a crucial point in his explanation, Arthur would raise his hand and ask a few questions.

“So the most widely used anesthetic at the moment is laudanum?

And it’s very easy to purchase?”

“Even for fever, cold, headache, or heat, doctors prescribe this medicine?”

“What?

They prescribe it for insomnia too?”

“The side effect is easy addiction?

Well, I did know that.”

“You treat patients with bloodletting; I’ve indeed seen this in clinics.”

“Listening to this, using leeches for blood doesn’t seem so disgusting anymore; at least the patients won’t feel pain.”

As time ticked away, Darwin glanced at the full page of notes Arthur had taken and sighed deeply.

“Arthur, I think what we discussed today should be enough for you to digest for a while.”

Arthur nodded, packed his notes into his bag, and took a sip from his teacup.

“You really did a lot today, Charles.”

Having said this, Arthur glanced at Eld, sitting beside them absorbed in a newspaper.

He asked, “But what are you doing here today, Eld?

Didn’t you tell me you’ve been diligently studying drawing skills recently?”

To Arthur’s surprise, Eld, engrossed in his newspaper, dismissively replied, “Let me finish this section first.

I really hadn’t realized that other newspapers could also be this interesting.

These penny street papers always have more sensational content than the regular four-penny ones.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but interject, “Even if you like reading these kinds of newspapers, can’t you avoid saying their prices in front of me?

Everyone knows, a newspaper incurs a three-penny stamp tax, so anything priced under three pennies is an untaxed, illegal publication.”

“Eld, I’m still wearing my police uniform, could you at least wait until I take it off to say that?”

But Eld, unconcerned whether Arthur was in uniform or not, excitedly pulled on Arthur’s arm, drawing him closer, and pointed to a section in the newspaper.

“Look at this part, it slams Parliament ruthlessly and even says this bunch of donkeys finally stopped braying.”

Arthur scanned it briefly; the article was mostly about the recent ‘Swin Rebellion’ in rural areas.

Laborers, unable to endure the high cost of living brought on by the Corn Laws and aggravated by recent agricultural crises, gathered together.

At nightfall, they attacked landlords’ estates and burned their granaries, also destroying their threshing machines.

This type of activity was particularly severe in Hampshire, Wiltshire, and Kent County, and the newspapers over the past few days had been filled with stories of landlords and priests being set on fire by angry farmers.

Incidents of this nature, involving widespread destruction under the cover of darkness, had occurred many times before in Britain, even developing into a standard riot procedure, not confined solely to the agricultural sector.

The most famous of these was perhaps the Luddite Movement, which erupted in 1811.

At that time, stocking merchants in Nottinghamshire, disregarding industry norms by producing a type of inferior long stockings, drove down the prices of socks, severely impacting the earnings of artisanal sock knitters.

Thus, some weavers secretly organized themselves in the name of the fictitious “General Ludd” to destroy merchants’ stocking machines and sabotage their wool and sock factories, and if they found the factory owners, they would strangle them immediately.

The fire in Nottingham quickly spread across various parts of England, and all sorts of riots bloomed in just over a year.

To suppress the workers’ riots, the British authorities even had to recall part of the Army that was participating in the Napoleonic Wars in the Iberian Peninsula.

At the height of the Luddite movement, the number of British Army troops left to deal with the rioting workers even exceeded those dealing with Napoleon.

Thereafter, the British Government passed two urgent bills to counter the Luddite movement, namely the “Machine Breaking Restriction Act” and the “Malicious Damage Act of 1812”.

But clearly, the rioting workers, in their fervor, paid little heed to these laws.

Since the Luddite movement was mainly spontaneous without a unified organization, British authorities faced wave after wave of riots that persisted intermittently into the 1820s, still under the banner of “General Ludd”.

Although this Skewing riot did not bear the banner of “General Ludd,” they merely changed it to “Lieutenant Skewing,” but the tactics of the riot were of course the same old ones.

However, the response of the Tory Cabinet, led by Duke Wellington, to this “Swin Riot” was uncharacteristically silent, although they still dispatched military police to restore order in the riot areas.

At the same time, they unusually stated that unless the situation escalated further, they would not deploy Army troops to suppress it.

Over the following days, the situation developed even more bizarrely.

Almost at the same time as the Swining riot, Lord Saffield delivered a speech in the House of Lords about advancing the “establishment of a plot system.”

He proposed that 50 acres of land be allocated in each parish nation-wide as shared fields, which were to be rented out to landless farm laborers at low prices, emphasizing that this approach would effectively reduce poverty rates, increase employment among agricultural workers, and mitigate the conflict between laborers and landed farmers.

Indeed, Lord Saffield had put forward many similar suggestions before, but this time, he won unanimous praise in the House of Lords.

The Speaker of the House even spared no compliments, calling Lord Saffield’s plan an exceptional, excellent, and creative proposal.

He said that although he had heard the noble lord mention this proposal many times, each time felt as fresh as the last.

Just eight days after Lord Saffield’s speech in the House of Lords, Member of Parliament Briscoe likewise declared his support for Lord Saffield’s initiative in the House of Commons and planned to propose a feasible bill concerning the issue.

Since Arthur had come to this country, this was the first time he felt that the Houses of Parliament were an institution so capable of action.

The characteristically conservative Tory Party made a sudden one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, catching the eager Whigs, who were ready to impeach the Cabinet, completely off guard.

With both parties agreeing, the implementation of the plot system practically became an irreversible conclusion.

The only thing left was the matter of time for legislation.

This was the first time since the end of the Napoleonic Wars that the Houses of Parliament had shown such harmony.

Eld covered his belly and clapped in laughter; this matter had provided him with amusement for the entire day.

“Just like the newspapers said, the donkeys indeed have stopped braying.”

As for Arthur, he stroked his chin, as if he had discerned something.

Suddenly, he realized something, and Arthur smiled slightly, taking the newspaper from Eld’s hands.

He murmured, “It seems that sometimes, if the whip is well used, it can still make them turn the millstone.”