The Shadow of Great Britain

The Jewish youth whispered to Arthur, "Do you have time? I wanted to chat with you about this morning’s events."

"Of course." Arthur casually adjusted his hat.

"Don’t take too long!" Dickens saw them preparing to leave and half-jokingly shouted, "Without you two, how will we arrange tonight’s Romantic activities?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders without looking back, as a response.

The two men left the bustling editorial department, walked through the corridor filled with sample publications, and stopped at the balcony near the staircase.

Arthur leaned against the doorframe and lit a fire: "Go ahead, Benjamin, what’s the matter?"

Disraeli took off his gloves and smoothed his hair: "What else could it be but those articles about Liszt. Honestly, the situation is a bit out of control now; it seems like everyone is trying to drag the court into this mess."

Arthur took a puff of smoke: "You’re referring to those reports about Viscount Melbourne and Her Majesty the Queen?"

"Exactly." Disraeli nodded, "Fortunately, today is not Saturday, so most of the weeklies haven’t been printed yet. Now, the coverage of the events related to Liszt is mainly in the Morning Paper. While things haven’t escalated, we can go and inform those weekly magazines, at least ensure they delete any parts concerning Her Majesty the Queen when compiling the weekly news summaries."

If not for old London, most would likely not understand what Disraeli meant.

Why did he place so much importance on the weeklies but remained indifferent to the attacks from the Morning Paper?

This was primarily determined by the current publishing landscape in Britain.

Although the Morning Paper always had the latest and most timely news, for most people, it’s not only expensive but also too lengthy.

Many readers don’t have the time to read through all the parliamentary dynamics, police and court reports, railway and mining columns, and those who have the time aren’t interested in most of the content. For most readers, they prefer to read current events in a leisurely manner, neither seeking deep understanding nor willing to be forced to digest a daily news meal.

In all of London, only stockbrokers, insurance practitioners, and politicians would read the entire Morning Paper without missing a piece and are willing to spend at least six pounds annually on newspaper expenses.

For the majority of the working class, they lack money and time, and practically lack the willingness to read dailies. Perhaps they might occasionally buy a Morning Paper, but generally, they prefer to read weeklies.

Because weeklies are not only cheaper but also suit their tastes better. Compared to dailies, the news in weeklies is often carefully selected, more refined, easier to understand, and more interesting. The best part is that they include many illustrated explanations, providing enough reading material for workers to digest over a whole week.

Just as a worker said in a street interview: "We live in a peaceful country where everything is in its place. Even if news arrives days late, any upheaval cannot harm us. Dissolve Parliament? Let them dissolve it; after all, it’s just an election. Cabinet resignation? There are plenty of people in this country willing to be ministers, not worth worrying about. War breaking out? That’s great, we’re willing to pay for it, but thanks to the English Channel and Britain’s naval power, the Frenchmen stand no chance of invading England before the weeklies are issued. You see, all this indicates that people don’t need to rush to grasp the latest news!"

For this reason, Disraeli was concerned about the influence of weeklies.

Because the readership of weeklies not only included street workers but also those suburban lawyers, priests, teachers, real estate agents, and parliamentarians’ wives with some spare cash. These people read slowly, remember well, and love to discuss. If they catch sight of some ambiguous hints in the illustrations on the coffee table and add their imaginations to it, the matter would thoroughly ferment.

The pipe burned at Arthur’s fingertips, the wind blew over the balcony, dispersing the smoke.

He glanced at Disraeli: "Benjamin, tell me honestly, was it you who released the rumors about Liszt?"

Disraeli was startled at first, then frowned: "What do you mean?"

"Literal meaning." Arthur calmly said, "The current trend is too consistent, it seems to be anything but spontaneous."

"Why are you suspecting me? I have no grudge against Liszt." Disraeli immediately waved his hand, his tone carrying some annoyance over being wrongly accused: "You think I would do such a stupid thing? I’m not like those poets and literary critics making a living by stirring up rumors and blackening reputations."

"Don’t be agitated, Benjamin, I just want to confirm..." Seeing Disraeli’s attitude, Arthur shook his head with a smile and said, "If the news came from us, then all we have to do is execute our pre-set plan. If it didn’t come from us, then even better."

Disraeli’s brow furrowed deeper, he didn’t quite understand Arthur’s logic: "What do you mean? Are you intending to let them concoct nonsense? Do you know whom this issue will implicate? Liszt! Melbourne! And Her Majesty the Queen! Didn’t you fall out with Liszt in Paris? They’re sure to suspect us."

"I did fall out with Liszt, but Benjamin, you know me, I’m not petty." Arthur nonchalantly tapped his pipe: "Of course, if you don’t know me, I suggest you read the article I published in the Paris newspaper. I’ve never denied Liszt’s talent from start to finish, just can’t stomach his arrogant attitude. Liszt is undoubtedly a piano genius, but that doesn’t mean my protégé, Mr. Sigismund Thalberg, is useless."

"Even if you didn’t attack Liszt, you two surely had disagreements, right? Besides, we recently secured the English rights to that ’Beatrice’, and ’The British’ review has been written..." Disraeli froze mid-sentence.

He suddenly realized something; the review about ’Beatrice’ in ’The British’ hasn’t been published yet, ’The British’ latest issue is to be released tomorrow.

Disraeli’s face changed, he turned hastily: "Damn it!"

He almost reflexively ran downstairs, not even having time to properly re-wear his gloves.

But after running two steps, Disraeli heard Arthur leisurely calling out behind him: "Benjamin, where are you going?"

"Isn’t it obvious? I need to quickly retract the manuscript!"

"No need to run, I’ve already notified them."

Disraeli was puzzled for a moment, he turned around and asked: "You... what did you say?"

"I said..." Arthur leaned against the balcony rail, his tone infuriatingly calm, "The manuscript has been retracted, and even the layout has been changed."

"When did you...?"

"Just now." Arthur raised his hand and said, "While dining with Albert at Green Restaurant."

Disraeli’s mouth opened slightly, unable to close for a while, he even suspected whether he heard it wrong: "During dinner? How did you manage that?"

Arthur chuckled, removed the pipe from his mouth, "It’s not difficult, just needed to hand a note downstairs, have it delivered to the layout room downstairs for the print supervisor, and within half an hour the revision was complete. Poor Langworth, his review painstakingly written not only won’t see daylight but now has to pen an article ’When Paris’s Piano Met London’s Night’ this afternoon praising Liszt and Thalberg’s showdown at Buckingham Palace."

"You... anticipated it beforehand?"

"Not really." Arthur lifted his gaze to look at the distant street corner, "I didn’t expect someone to be rushing to do our dirty work for the sake of stealing news efficiency, but this counts as an unexpected delight. However, if this fire wasn’t lit by us, then we’re not obligated to extinguish it. Let it burn a while longer, and when someone uncomfortably roasted comes knocking, naturally, they’ll come seeking us."

"But this is too risky..." Disraeli thought of the potential consequences, still having a chill feeling: "Now everyone’s eyes are on Liszt and Buckingham Palace. If it continues to burn this way, even Her Majesty the Queen’s reputation might..."

"Benjamin, what are you afraid of?" Arthur interrupted him indifferently, "On this Great Britain Island, there’s no one more concerned about Her Majesty’s reputation than me."