The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 636 - 314: Napoleon’s Direct Relatives

Dusk fell, and Louis Bonaparte ended a busy day by taking a carriage ride back to the Golden Lion Inn.

Because of his sensitive identity, he wasn’t assigned by Arthur to deal with the Liverpool City Council and the Port Authority but was given the task of supervising cholera prevention work.

One couldn’t tell if it was because the £200,000 Liverpool district renovation plan had taken effect, or if the various departments of Liverpool, feeling guilty about the assassination attempt on Arthur, were only trying to compensate in other areas.

At any rate, from what Louis saw during his rounds today, the cholera prevention efforts were quite effective.

Liverpool’s Sanitary Committee not only strictly enforced the various regulations of the "Cholera Prevention Manual," but also whitewashed crowded or dirty areas and poured a significant amount of lime into sewers and drains for disinfection purposes.

Moreover, they flexibly borrowed from the prevention and control experiences of cholera’s homeland, India.

Hindus often burn resinous substances. The practice of fumigation through burning to produce pungent, foul-smelling smoke is their traditional way of combating diseases or plagues.

In Britain, municipal authorities switched the burning material from resin to tar, pitch, or sulfur under the advice of experienced doctors.

Of course, such practices had to be carried out by professionals. A few days ago, Oxford’s Sanitary Committee caused an unfortunate street explosion accident while burning tar barrels to prevent epidemics.

Sensitive to explosions, the Liverpool authorities, to prevent another local explosive incident, grudgingly switched the cheaper tar for the pricier sulfur.

As for when to save money and when not to, they still had a relatively clear understanding.

At Arthur’s suggestion, wells in the cholera outbreak areas were also sealed off, in the interest of exploring the source of the disease.

A few local porter breweries generously took on the responsibility of providing clean and reliable drinking water to residents near the wells. One beer manufacturer was so moved that he published an impassioned speech on the local newspaper’s page.

—At the onset of cholera, we were at a loss, not knowing what we could do. But in the past few days, when the Sanitary Committee informed the Liverpool Brewers Association that Liverpool’s beer was suspected of having therapeutic effects, we decided to step forward without hesitation. We grew wealthy relying on this city, our wealth stems from the public’s recognition of our products. If Commissioner Hastings must say that beer can save Liverpool, then what reason do we have to refuse to provide this cure to the citizens of Liverpool? I hereby declare on behalf of the Liverpool Brewers Association that during the cholera outbreak, all our beers will be sold at half price, and those provided to the Sanitary Committee for the relief of our poorer brethren will be offered at cost price. Fellows, lost your job due to port quarantine? No worries, even if you live in the poorhouse, you can still have at least two cups of free beer from the Sanitary Committee every day!

Louis, not well-versed in medical matters, thought that although these beer manufacturers were somewhat guilty of false advertising, considering they did provide a lot of clean drinking water and even donated to the Sanitary Committee’s medical fund, there was probably no need to trouble them.

Besides, there were plenty of others to give them a hard time, with priests nearly at their wit’s end over the beer merchants’ ’beer cures disease’ theory. Even when there wasn’t a cholera outbreak, they often listed drunkenness as an unforgivable sin in their proclamations. They had always been determined to eradicate any advertisements encouraging drinking.

Recently, they even targeted Arthur, who suggested offering beer as an alternative to the sealed-off wells.

They mocked the young Scotland Yard inspector as a British Royal barrel that had rolled down the tracks from London, even sporting an Order of Saint Edward badge on its label.

However, Arthur didn’t take the priests’ attacks too much to heart; after all, on this small island of Britain, whether it be God, Jesus, or the King, all had to face attack. If you weren’t badmouthed, it only seemed like you didn’t quite fit in.

Besides, the priests were not entirely wrong, for excessive drinking indeed is not a good habit. Even other doctrines held by the priests, Arthur found quite reasonable.

Setting aside everything else, at least these very traditional, long-lived conservatives surely had life habits worth learning from for the majority of people.

If it weren’t for the unsuitable timing, Arthur might consider supporting their advocacy to prohibit alcohol, opium, gambling, prostitution, and so forth.

But for now, to encourage the brewers to generously cooperate with the epidemic prevention efforts, the priests would just have to rant a bit more in their church bulletins.

A British Royal barrel bearing the Order of Saint Edward badge surely had a larger capacity than ordinary barrels, enough to contain Liverpool’s priests without any problem.

Louis returned to the inn, briefly greeted his colleagues, and headed straight for Arthur’s room on the second floor.

Unexpectedly, before he could knock on the door, he saw the Great Dumas staggering past him.

The plump Frenchman joked playfully, "I’d advise against going in there; perhaps this year’s Criminal Investigation Department still has surplus in its medical care special fund."

"Hmm?" Louis raised an eyebrow, a strange smile playing on his lips, "No way, has Arthur picked up Liverpool’s bad habits so soon?"