The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 197 - 197 135 Hastings The Eye That Discerns the Genuine Article

197: Chapter 135: Hastings, The Eye That Discerns the Genuine Article 197: Chapter 135: Hastings, The Eye That Discerns the Genuine Article Arthur, holding the phonograph, stood on the stage with a smile and introduced it to the astonished ladies and gentlemen who were lost for words.

“As you all have seen and heard, this is a phonograph.

As the name implies, its function is to record sounds onto the disc that is now spinning on the machine.

Of course, it can also play back the recorded sounds.

The piece you are hearing now was recorded by me in Mr.

Charles Wheatstone’s music shop on a special piano that can be connected to the phonograph.

It’s an adaptation of Paganini’s etude ‘The Bell’.”

Of course, limited by the size of the disc, the recording capacity of the phonograph is currently only about 4 to 5 minutes, and you have to wind it up again after a short while.

However, I believe with Mr.

Wheatstone’s intelligence, he will solve these problems sooner or later.”

Having known about this new invention for a while, Eld replied with a mischievous smirk, “You’re right, Mr.

Wheatstone wouldn’t be able to say he couldn’t solve these problems even if he wanted to.”

With that, he gestured towards Arthur with his index finger and thumb formed into the shape of a pistol.

The guests below the stage were all amazed by this invention, and they exclaimed,

“My God!

What on Earth is the principle behind this?

To record a person’s voice, I always thought only God could do such a thing!

Could it be that He has finally decided to share the secrets of the world with us?”

“Who exactly is this Mr.

Charles Wheatstone, and why have I never heard his name before?”

“Mr.

Hastings, is he the young scientist you have recently discovered?

Like how Sir David discovered Faraday, and Faraday discovered you?”

“It is because of natural philosophers like you and Mr.

Faraday, always ready to bring fame to others, that Britain is becoming more and more beautiful.

Thank you, Mr.

Hastings, and let’s thank God, hoping He will continue to bless you!”

“By the way, where is Mr.

Wheatstone’s music shop?

How much would it cost to buy one of these phonographs and a disc?”

As soon as these words were spoken, the curiosity of the gentlemen and ladies present was immediately piqued.

A phonograph was fascinating enough on its own, but if it included a piano piece adapted from Paganini’s signature work ‘La Campanella,’ they would be prepared to spend any amount to acquire one for themselves.

Being the first to get their hands on such a machine wasn’t just about being able to listen to music anytime; it was proof of their enthusiasm for the latest scientific technologies.

Just imagine playing it at one’s own salon during a banquet—wouldn’t it astonish all of one’s friends?

And the astonishment of friends signified trendiness—signified that one’s family was more fashionable than others!

For these gentlemen and ladies active in social circles, nothing could satisfy their vanity more than the envious gazes of others.

At this moment, most gentlemen and ladies were focused on inquiring from Arthur about the places to purchase and the prices, but some guests, who were passionate about music, noticed the blind spot hidden in Arthur’s words just a moment ago.

With a sweaty forehead, Mrs.

Cordington asked, “Wait a minute, Mr.

Hastings, did you just say that the phonograph can record for no more than five minutes?”

Arthur nodded slightly,thinking Mrs.

Cordington was dissatisfied with the recording duration, so he tactfully defended the phonograph, “Currently it is indeed so, but five minutes can already accommodate quite a few pieces.”

Mrs.

Cordington quickly waved her hand, “No, no, you misunderstood me, I’m not questioning this great new invention.

I …

I …

Good heavens, what am I thinking.

Mr.

Hastings, I really shouldn’t doubt you!

To tell you the truth, I noticed while listening to your performance of that étude, that ‘The Bell’ was considerably simplified compared to Mr.

Paganini’s ‘La Campanella.’ At that time, I thought it was because the original piece was too difficult, so you had to reduce some of the rapid variations of ‘La Campanella.’

Now it seems you shortened the piece to accommodate this phonograph!”

Upon Mrs.

Cordington’s reminder, Mr.

Mozesales, standing next to Arthur, also had a moment of realization about this subtle detail.

He was so amazed by the new invention that he had forgotten this essential point.

“This…” Mr.

Mozesales looked a bit conflicted and cautiously inquired, “Mr.

Hastings, could you add more difficulty to it?”

Arthur thought about the price of “The Bell” at the Devil’s, and he managed a smile with difficulty, “Actually, the room for improvement is already quite small.”

“You can actually still improve it?!”

As Mr.

Mozesales roared, many guests slapped their foreheads as if on cue, creating a sharp snapping sound that nearly shattered the ballroom’s window panes.

After much deliberation, Mr.

Mozesales couldn’t help but speak up, “Mr.

Hastings, I wonder if you’d be interested in joining the London Philharmonic Association?

We are currently working on establishing the third symphony orchestra of the society, and I sincerely invite you to become its pianist and conductor.

Would you accept?”

Upon hearing this, Arthur declined without a second thought, “Mr.

Mozesales, you truly overestimate me.

Like I said before, I am a beginner, and the only piece I can play is this adaptation of ‘La Campanella,’ ‘The Bell’.”

Although Arthur said this, Mr.

Mozesales wasn’t buying it.

“Mr.

Hastings, don’t be so modest.

Even if you are a beginner, the fact that you can play ‘The Bell’ right now means that even if you don’t make any progress in the future, you are fully capable of learning most of the piano pieces available on the market.”

No sooner had Mr.

Mozesales finished speaking than Mrs.

Copper, who had been standing below the stage with a smile, also spoke up.

“Mr.

Hastings, I think Mr.

Mozesales is right.

Or to put it another way, even if you only knew this one piece for the rest of your life, I would still be willing to bring my friends to your concert.

Mr.

Paganini’s skills may be superb, but after all, he is a musician from the Apennines.

Compared with him, I would prefer to support you, a native of Britain.”

General Cordington, hearing this, joked with his wife, “I don’t want to wear the Paganini hat you bought me, but if it’s a hat embroidered with Hastings’ name, I might consider it.”

Upon saying this, General Cordington also took his wife’s hand, pointing at the Paganini silver chain on her wrist, humorously adding, “Speaking of which, Anna, maybe you should consider getting new jewelry.”

General Cochrane, holding his wine glass, also joined in the teasing, “Mr.

Hastings, look here, there are over a dozen guests tonight.

If you are willing, you have already pocketed our tickets.

Of course, General Sidney Smith probably can’t make it; he has to return to Paris soon.”

General Smith’s cheeks were flushed with drink, and he seemed a bit drunk, “Nonsense, Cochrane!

Whether I return to Paris or not depends on whether Mr.

Hastings gives me face.

As long as he doesn’t send Scotland Yard’s police to throw me into a debtor’s prison, I am very willing to attend his concert.”

Hearing this, General Cochrane finally confirmed that General Smith was indeed inebriated and jokingly mocked the old general who had been bullying him in the lounge before the banquet began.

“No worries, General Smith, even if you end up in a debtor’s prison, listening to a gramophone inside is just the same.”

The crowd couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Before the laughter had subsided, as the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind, Eld, who had been bullied by Cochrane before, spoke up with a sneer.

“General Cochrane, your earlier words might already have been recorded by the gramophone.

When General Smith is in a debtor’s prison, do you really want to play this for him to hear?”

General Cochrane raised his eyebrows in fright and quickly turned to Arthur, “Mr.

Hastings, you didn’t really record that part, did you?

Please, for the sake of our acquaintance today, erase that segment immediately.”

Arthur nodded earnestly, “Regarding that, I need to check carefully.

I almost forgot to tell you, each record has two sides, and I will check whether the other side has recorded anything for you.”

The guests exclaimed in surprise, “Can this thing actually record two different things at the same time?”

“Both the front and back sides, five minutes each, that makes ten minutes in total.”

“It seems this gramophone is even better than I thought; ten minutes can already record quite a few pieces.”

“General Cochrane, I think you’d better watch what you say in the future, not to waste such a fine thing.”

In the midst of their discussion, Arthur lifted the needle, flipped the record over, and started playing it from the beginning again.

The ladies and gentlemen held their breath, and after a period of noise, the gramophone’s copper horn emitted the rustling sound of pages being turned.

Suddenly, Arthur’s gentle voice rose from the gramophone, “The Count of Monte Cristo, chapter one, the ship arrives in Marseille.

On the twenty-fourth of February, eighteen fifteen, the lookout on the watchtower in the breakwater signaled to the people that the three-masted ship Pharaoh had reached the Port of Marseille.

It had set sail from Smyrna, passing through Trieste and Naples, and now…”