"The authorities must exercise restraint... officers should avoid using firearms... however, if the situation becomes critical, full support must be given to Scotland Yard to maintain order..."

Regarding the series of directives from Viscount Melbourne, Arthur did not believe that these historical documents alone could influence his fundamental judgment of the Cold Bath Field incident, as in practice, historical documents hold no real significance.

Because Arthur had long since learned about the event in detail from Scotland Yard and magazines such as "The Poor’s Watchman" and "Friend of Workers".

Before the National Working Class Committee officially held the Cold Bath Field rally, Scotland Yard had already learned about the time and place of the rally and reported it to the Home Office and the Cabinet. Prime Minister Count Grey immediately ordered that if the rally was held, Scotland Yard must immediately arrest the organizers, and Home Secretary Viscount Melbourne, following the Prime Minister’s instructions, ordered the Greater London Police Department Commissioner Charles Rowan and Deputy Commissioner Richard Mayne to disperse the rally.

What was unknown to the public was that Rowan and Mayne, upon receiving the orders from the Home Office, did not immediately carry them out but rather expressed doubts about the legal basis of Viscount Melbourne’s orders. According to legal provisions, British citizens legally enjoy the right to assemble, so the two commissioners immediately requested a face-to-face discussion with Viscount Melbourne.

Ultimately, the two commissioners were persuaded by Viscount Melbourne and received his verbal assurances.

Thus, Scotland Yard immediately set about posting notices declaring the rally illegal and warning participants that they would be dispersed if it took place.

However, despite the police warnings, the large protest rally of 4,000 people went ahead as planned.

Scotland Yard fulfilled its promise by deploying 600 officers at Cold Bath Field on the day, leading to fierce clashes, during which Chief Robert Cali was killed in action.

After the incident, the jury did not accept the evidence provided by the police and ruled that the police actions were fierce and brutal, and that the conflict was not provoked by the public. They also cited the lack of reading of the "Riot Act" and ordering the crowd to disperse by the police as reasons to acquit the killer.

However, the Attorney General for England and Wales, Sir John Campbell, immediately objected to this verdict, and the not guilty verdict was overturned on May 30 by the High Court Throne Court, with Cali’s death reclassified as "deliberate murder by one or more unidentified persons."

Yet a few days later, the original jury wrote to Parliament, protesting the Throne Court’s reversal of its verdict and claiming that the Throne Court’s decision tarnished their reputation. Their protest also received strong support from public opinion.

Under considerable pressure, the Lower House had no choice but to set up a Special Committee to investigate the case. During the investigation, it was discovered that Viscount Melbourne had never signed the announcement declaring the Cold Bath Field rally illegal, rendering the announcement legally invalid.

What disappointed Scotland Yard the most was that Viscount Melbourne even told the committee that he only wanted to arrest the leaders, not disperse the crowd.

But Deputy Commissioner Sir Richard Mayne, who was a lawyer, stepped forward to prove that Viscount Melbourne was lying, as he had kept meeting minutes from his and Rowan’s meeting with Viscount Melbourne.

Compared to the documents provided by Viscount Melbourne today, Arthur certainly trusted his colleagues at Scotland Yard more.

The very reason Arthur never paid a visit to Viscount Melbourne after returning to London was his tremendous anger at Melbourne’s duplicity in the Cold Bath Field incident.

Although duplicity is a compulsory course for politicians, Viscount Melbourne went too far.

The more Arthur looked at these documents, the more disheartened he felt until he turned to an appointment letter—"Regarding the appointment of Joseph Thomas as Deputy Commissioner of Manchester Police."

Joseph Thomas, perhaps many forgetful Londoners had forgotten this name already.

But as a veteran officer of Scotland Yard, Arthur remembered this old colleague well. Thomas used to be the Police Chief in charge of policing Covent Garden Market, and during the outbreak of the Cold Bath Field incident, he was a key figure in charge of on-site command.

Because he was such a critical figure, after the Cold Bath Field incident, he was rightfully subjected to strong media criticism and had no choice but to follow the example of Sir Arthur Hastings, resigning from Scotland Yard in disgrace.

Three years later, the idle Thomas was successfully reinstated in the newly established Manchester Police, and Viscount Melbourne intentionally placed this appointment letter among the documents related to the Cold Bath Field incident.

It was all too clear what he meant.

He simply wished to ease his relations with Scotland Yard... or rather, to mend ties with Arthur.

Arthur gently closed the document, but the look in his eyes darkened in an instant.

How could he possibly forget that thick past full of hesitation, evasion, and ambiguity from back then?

Even if he was naturally forgetful, Scotland Yard could never forgive so easily.

However, when he lifted his gaze again, his lips had already returned to a gentle smile: "I understand Viscount Melbourne’s good intentions. Over the years, there have been too many rumors, inevitably leading to misunderstandings. But in fact, he needn’t go to such lengths to explain to me. I never regarded him as an enemy. If there were any misunderstanding between us, it was due to the chatter outside. In politics, the big picture is what matters. Some things are already three years past, revisiting them will benefit no one."

Copper replied with a chuckle: "You know, my uncle is quite a cautious person. I’ve long told him, you’re not the kind of person to hold such matters on your mind. Well, this way, he probably won’t hesitate anymore."

"Hesitate? Hesitate over what?"

Copper lowered his voice, yet still couldn’t help but boast proudly: "You should know the Cabinet’s policy direction by now."

"Reform?" Arthur thought for a moment and replied with a smile: "The Whig Party’s policy direction is nothing but reform, that’s not surprising."

"Right, reform. But, more accurately, it’s steady reform, not radical reform." Copper lowered his voice but still couldn’t hide his pride: "Regarding this police reform... he was originally hesitant, worried whether he chose the right consultant. But now, it seems his concerns were all unnecessary."

Arthur was tense inside but remained calm on the surface: "A police reform consultant?"

Copper realized he misspoke, hurriedly coughed, and with a smile that couldn’t be suppressed, ambiguously passed it off: "There’s no need for you to ask now; you’ll naturally know in a few days."

After speaking, he patted Arthur’s arm, with the light-hearted confidence typical of a young man: "By then, you’ll definitely find it to be a most appropriate arrangement. Sir, I won’t hold you up any longer, His Majesty the King is waiting to see you."

Copper put away his smug expression, turned around, and made a "please" gesture as they passed through several hallways and stopped in front of a lavishly decorated room.

"Sir, this is as far as I can accompany you," Copper stopped and spoke with a smile: "From here on, it is between you and His Majesty."

The attendant at the door was already waiting. Seeing Arthur arrive, he nodded slightly, then knocked on the door and said: "Your Majesty, Sir Arthur Hastings to see you."

After a moment of silence, a hoarse yet forceful voice came from within the heavy door: "Let him in."

The heavy door slowly opened, releasing an aroma mixed with herbs and the scent of aged parchment.

King William IV was seated in a high-backed chair by the window, draped in a wide velvet robe, a deep color seemingly intended to hide his ever-thinning frame.

The William IV now was no longer the gallant Navy Marshal depicted in portraits. At this moment, his face was sallow, his cheeks slightly sunken, and the bloodshot eyes and puffiness testified to days of illness and anxiety. Nevertheless, he sat up straight, his back impeccably straight, as if trying to use this posture to defy the waning vitality with the passage of time.

His fingers trembled slightly, yet they remained stubbornly pressed on the armrest, as if reminding himself and everyone present that he was still the King.

The attendant gently closed the door, and silence fell.

William IV’s gaze slowly moved towards Arthur; he laboriously lifted his chin and extended his hand, as if gesturing for Arthur to approach: "Sit down, Sir Arthur. What we need to discuss is not idle chatter."