The Fox of France - Chapter 334: Negotiations

At this crucial moment, disagreements erupted among the “dignified” individuals.

Mr. Rayne, the instigator of this issue, naturally erupted in fury. As a member of the lower house, during the assembly, he slammed the table, vehemently castigated the rioters, and criticized the incompetence of the London Police Department. He pointed at Sir Shaw, questioning where all the annual allocations had gone and why they couldn’t suppress the subversive elements while also protecting those who genuinely contributed to the nation.

Sir Shaw had grown accustomed to such accusations. He initially shifted blame to his predecessor, stating he’d only taken over the London Police Department three years ago, and the mess left behind was immense and unresolved. It wasn’t his incompetence but rather the accumulation of problems over many years, some dating back to the era of the Great Fire of London.

“These miscellaneous problems have accumulated over many, many years. Some have lingered since the era of the Great Fire of London. They’ve piled up like the manure in the stables of Augeas. Yet, I can’t solve these issues using Hercules’ methods — surely none of you would tolerate such an approach. So, how can you blame me for these problems?”

The lawmakers couldn’t condone Sir Shaw’s attempt to evade responsibility. He further contended that the funds allocated by Parliament to the police department were insufficient, resulting in an inadequate number of officers to ensure the city’s safety. Essentially, to fix the problem, more funds were needed — without money, what could they do?

However, faced with the demand for more funds, the immediate reaction of the lawmakers was to tightly clutch their purses. Increasing funds meant raising taxes, which in turn would reduce the income of the legislators. Therefore, Parliament’s longstanding principle was to accomplish as much as possible with minimal expenditure.

Consequently, the matter of augmenting the London Police Department’s funds naturally faded away. Nevertheless, a consensus was reached within Parliament: any action by law enforcement must not compromise security in the “vital areas.” Consequently, the mobility of the London Police Department was severely curtailed.

Subsequently, Parliament began deliberations on how to address the strikes.

The “London Textile Workers Union,” responsible for organizing the strikes, had proposed negotiation terms. They sought reduced work intensity and increased wages.

Lawmakers first queried Sir Shaw about whether, while ensuring the security of the “vital areas,” they could swiftly suppress these rebellious elements.

Sir Shaw naturally replied that it was impossible under the circumstances and would require additional funding. Even if funds were provided, it would take considerable time to reinforce the police force. In short, using the police force to solve the problem before the trade fair was unfeasible.

“Of course, if the military were employed, it would be possible to suppress these troublemakers before the fair. However, as you all know…” Sir Shaw trailed off.

Using the military might suppress the troublemakers before the trade fair, but it would cause significant collateral damage. Employing the military meant no chance of resuming production before the trade fair. Furthermore, it wouldn’t only affect the textile industry but others as well.

As soon as this was mentioned, almost all lawmakers immediately opposed it. Consequently, a decision was swiftly made:

No major disturbances before the trade fair. As for the present issue, it had to be resolved by the textile industry owners themselves.

Several textile factory owners gathered and deliberated. Eventually, they decided to first negotiate with the rebels, attempting to hoodwink them, ensuring the minimal cost and shortest duration to resume production, all to maximize earnings during the trade fair.

Hence, several factory owners, in the name of the textile industry guild, extended negotiation invitations to the worker representatives. Initially, they contemplated playing the worker lottery to select representatives for negotiation, a move devoid of any sense of whose interests these representatives truly represented. They also adopted an attitude of having made significant concessions already, displaying a sense of being unfairly treated.

However, the London Textile Workers Union representatives were no fools and wouldn’t accept such ludicrous conditions. Consequently, this request was rightfully rejected.

Considering the urgency, the gentlemen had no time to waste. Thus, reluctantly, they agreed to negotiate with the representatives chosen by the London Textile Workers Union.

One of these representatives, operating under the pseudonym Nield, was actually a criminal, wanted and on the run. However, in an era without photographic technology, facial recognition was a joke. The existence of portraits primarily aided the police in their side gigs rather than capturing suspects. Additionally, the crimes committed by Nield had very few eyewitnesses, let alone anyone who had seen his face — so he wasn’t worried about being recognized.

However, Nield’s high-profile presence was still incredibly risky. It wasn’t due to his former identity but his current one. Indeed, some believed that the crimes of the worker representatives posed a greater threat than theft, robbery, or kidnapping.

“Anyone acting as a representative in negotiations with these vipers should be prepared for death. Even though they’re hesitant now, they’ll surely retaliate in the future. Some might inexplicably die or vanish. If anyone’s scared, they can still back out,” Nield told the other representatives before departure.

“Nield, are you underestimating us? Are we such cowards?” one representative chuckled.

“Nield, you know who we are. Stop the chatter; we should depart,” another said.

The negotiation venue wasn’t far from Westminster Abbey. The worker representatives, being penniless, couldn’t afford carriages, not even public ones. Therefore, they had to walk. Departing before dawn, a few carried lanterns, stepping onto the streets from their houses.

Unlike the affluent areas with gas streetlights, the streets in the poorer district were pitch-black at night. In this intense darkness, the dim yellow light from the lanterns barely illuminated a small area ahead of Nield.

Nield walked confidently in the darkness, a path he’d tread for countless years. Gradually, the road became clearer, and the sky brighter.

Around 8 a.m., the worker representatives reached the negotiation site, but the other party — the gentlemen — hadn’t arrived on time.

Having studied in Toulon, Nield knew this was a tactic to exert pressure. He’d anticipated this and forewarned everyone. Some suggested they should also be late, reversing the pressure.

However, Nield dismissed the idea.

“We have time on our side; we don’t need such tricks. In fact, the more tricks they play, the more anxious they appear. If they persist in wasting time, well, we’re willing to wait — there aren’t many days left, but we can hold out until the trade fair begins.”

“Can you hold out until then? By that time, you’ll all be starving,” a gentleman taunted.

“We don’t mind. For workers like us, if we can’t save up for a ticket to North America in five years, we’ll all perish. Dying a few years earlier is no different. But you gentlemen, dragging things out, buying materials for the fair, borrowing money… haha, you’re not afraid of death, what do we have to fear?” Nield promptly retorted.

“Oh, Nield, don’t be angry. Our negotiations aim for a satisfactory outcome for all. We’re not here to squabble. It’s getting late; why don’t you present your demands, and we’ll discuss them together? What do you think?” Rayne said with a friendly smile on his face.