The Shadow of Great Britain

When the journalist inquired about the actual content of the draft, Sir Arthur was very candid: ”What we are discussing is merely the issue of specialization and administrative efficiency. For example, standardizing uniform procurement, police officer health stipends, reforming the night patrol system, consolidating overlapping police districts, or providing patrolmen with longer-term literacy and report writing training. If this can be described as autocratic, then fine, Britain is an autocratic country, and I am indeed a Prussian-style minister, but please note, under such circumstances, I am by no means the first Prussian-style minister.”

It is well known that there is a widely spread rumor that the draft contains a secret clause to ”establish a central intelligence system,” similar to France’s Paris Police Hall Security Bureau, Russia’s Third Hall of the Imperial Office, or Prussia’s Constitutional Guard Headquarters.

Regarding this, Sir Arthur was straightforward: ”If such a system existed, I should be happier than anyone. Because London deals with more cases daily than can occupy ten investigation departments busy. Unfortunately, reality is far duller than the rumors; we have only scarce manpower and endless files.”

The journalist promptly followed up: ”Then do you completely deny the possibility of establishing a similar organization in the future?”

Sir Arthur replied: ”That should be asked of Parliament, ask the Cabinet, ask the Treasury and the Home Office... ask anyone willing to pay for police expansion. What the Police Commissioner Committee can decide is nothing more than the size of the patrol shoes. Nowadays, Britain’s police system has long been an object of emulation by various countries in Europe. Our strength comes from a transparent government, from community support, from the sanctity of law, not from secret meetings or any dark corridors. No reform will change this fact; regardless of the rumors outside, London neither needs Prussian constitutional soldiers nor Paris spies, and I won’t allow a similar system to emerge during my tenure.”

...

As the Observatory clock of the University of London struck three in the afternoon, a team composed of four professors still lingered on the main lawn of Bloomsbury Square.

Winter’s weak sunlight spread a pale gold on the academy’s red brick exterior, the cold wind swept up fallen leaves, yet did not dampen the excitement of the professors who had long been away from Britain.

”Is this your library?” Professor Ewald looked up at the cast iron gate ahead: ”It’s younger than I imagined.”

”Young, but very free.” Weber’s hands in the pockets of his coat, showing from the smile on his face that this physicist’s visit to the headquarters of England Electromagnetic Telegraph Company this morning must have been very pleasant: ”Free enough to make most professors in Germany’s academic circles envious.”

Arthur walked alongside them, smiling: ”Since it’s so free, why not stay completely? I’ve talked with the board, though funding for University of London is always tight, adding a few faculty positions for you is still feasible.”

Weber stretched lazily: ”I have no problem with that, although I’ve only been here for a few days, I quite like the atmosphere here. Although London’s academic atmosphere might not be as dense as Germany’s university towns, the number of companies engaging in cutting-edge technology development here is simply astonishing. Honestly, if I hadn’t visited England Electromagnetic Telegraph Company myself, I wouldn’t believe telegraph technology is already so widely applied in London.”

Coming to this point, perhaps feeling tired from walking, Weber casually leaned against a large tree: ”If Mr. Gauss weren’t too old and unwilling to leave Germany due to family ties, I might even persuade him to come to London.”

Ewald, Albrecht, and Gevinus share similar sentiments with Weber; though they are not scholars of Natural Philosophy, but of history and law, they, like Weber, are just in their thirties and therefore not heavily tied by familial concerns, making it easy for them to adapt to teaching in a different place.

This is why Arthur brought them out today for a separate discussion.

After all, compared to them, it might not be as easy to persuade those in their fifties like Dalman and the Green Brothers.

For now, it isn’t only University of London competing for these seven professors.

Although the German states predominantly sided with the Kingdom of Hanover during the Göttingen Seven incident, several determined German universities are prepared to take in these seven martyrs for German academic freedom.

However, in order to avoid direct confrontation with the government, the positions that German universities can offer are merely lecturerships, with conditions not as favorable as those at University of London.

Yet, after all, Germany is the homeland of the seven professors; they might very well decline the invitation from University of London to stay closer to home.

Nonetheless, inviting Göttingen Seven is just the first step in the plan to ”make University of London forever great.”

After all, the impact of the Göttingen Seven incident is quite adverse; while Hanover only dismissed them, many professors at Göttingen also intended to leave, and other German universities are keen on uprooting Göttingen’s academic strength, offering high-paid positions to recruit talent.

As of now, University of Göttingen has seen its first professor resign voluntarily, namely their Electromagnetism Associate Professor, Mr. George Ohm.

This discoverer of resistance has already submitted his resignation to Göttingen University’s Academic Committee, and eagerly accepted the position offered by University of London.

Once Ohm completes his resignation procedures, University of London will welcome an unprecedentedly grand lineup in the field of Electromagnetism: Charles Wheatstone, William Weber, and George Ohm.

As they crossed the main building’s colonnade, a young assistant in a dark gray short wool jacket hurriedly ran down the steps, clutching a thick stack of syllabi: ”Sir Arthur! Mr. Wheatstone asked me to express his gratitude to you. He said that the laboratory you arranged...”

He hadn’t finished his sentence.

Arthur suddenly stopped halfway up the stairs.

Because he saw a more familiar figure, a long dark coat, the brim of the hat pressed low, breathing the rush of having run all the way from White Hall.

Henry Blackwell, recently transitioned as a private secretary from the Foreign Office to the Home Office Police Commissioner Committee.

The young secretary seemed swept over by the wind from the far end of the square.

His shirt collar was slightly askew, and he wore an old-fashioned copper pin that he retained from his Foreign Office days on his chest.

”Sir!” he practically rushed up, nearly tripping on the steps and only regaining his balance before looking up: ”Someone from Downing Street came over. The Prime Minister...”

Blackwell’s breathing was rapid, only then noticing the professors nearby, quickly offering an awkward smile before leaning close to Arthur, speaking in a hushed tone as if worried the professors might hear: ”The Prime Minister requests you to immediately visit No. 10 Downing Street.”