SGB Chapter 322

## Chapter 322: The Stakes in Liverpool

**Chapter 322: The Stakes in Liverpool**

Liverpool, Georgia District, 92 Duke Street, Monroe Tavern.

If there’s one thing you absolutely must do after arriving in Liverpool by train from London, it’s to visit a tavern and order a few good glasses of gin and wine. This would undoubtedly top the polls among British citizens.

While the quality of drinks in London taverns might not be inferior to those in Liverpool, when it comes to price, London, being at the King’s feet and the heart of the Empire, certainly doesn’t offer the same affordability as Liverpool, where regulations are relatively relaxed.

Arthur, though not particularly fond of drinking, found himself using it as an excellent way to prevent himself from falling ill in these extraordinary times.

Sitting by the window, Arthur could easily smell the pungent odor wafting in from the street.

The Central Health Commission’s guidelines for cholera prevention, issued to local authorities, emphasized the necessity of using limewater, hot limewater, bleach to clean the streets, and the need for whitewashing and fumigation of crowded and filthy areas.

In related recommendations, the commission subtly suggested that it would be even better if homeowners could be required to repaint all walls from floor to ceiling with lime.

However, as the government lacked the legal authority to enforce cleanliness in private spaces, most newly established local health commissions came up with a solution: providing free brushes, buckets, and disinfectants to the poor, allowing them to paint their houses themselves.

This “freebie” disinfection promotion quickly achieved unprecedented success throughout Britain. Following the principle of “don’t be a fool if there’s a bargain to be had,” this approach was adopted everywhere, from the luxurious Buckingham Palace where the King resided to the leaky shelters of the poor.

In just a few weeks, at least a third of the houses in Britain had been freshly painted.

However, not everyone responded to the government’s call. A significant number of people in Britain still treated cholera as a non-issue.

Due to a lack of understanding of this unfamiliar disease, many believed cholera was a hoax fabricated by the government, doctors, and merchants.

Arthur had noticed an article in the Newcastle Morning News a while back.

It reported that cholera had become almost synonymous with irony in Newcastle. If you were to tell a Newcastle resident that they were at risk of contracting cholera, you could expect to be met with a fist the size of a sandbag, or perhaps the spit of some angry women.

When a local Newcastle journalist interviewed a drunkard in a 24-hour tavern, the man, clutching a bottle of liquor, even claimed, “I’m not worried about this little ailment, sir. As you can see, drinking cures all ills. That’s how I’ve lived for half my life, and I’ve never had any problems. The only thing I worry about is getting drunk and falling into some stinking gutter.”

While drunkards’ judgments are usually inaccurate, regarding cholera, Arthur had to admit that this old fellow had surprisingly hit the nail on the head.

Arthur had also wanted to suggest this to the Health Commission, but fearing that his lack of reputation in the medical field, coupled with the idea that drinking could prevent disease, might trigger a backlash from the doctors, he kept his mouth shut.

But Arthur’s silence didn’t mean that other half-knowledgeable outsiders wouldn’t speak up.

As the earliest barefoot doctors in the entire Christian world, who had descended into the realm of unlicensed medical practice in modern times, the clergy, upon discovering the arrival of cholera, began to trot out their centuries-old rhetoric.

Cholera is not a physical illness, but a spiritual moral deficiency!

This is God’s punishment for society’s descent into darkness!

The Bishop of Exeter’s earlier criticism of London’s imminent transformation into a hell of sin is coming true!

In this difficult time, we must strengthen our faith. Attending sermons and reading the Bible will effectively reduce the probability of contracting the disease.

Generally, when Arthur saw such news headlines, he felt like the clergy were having a mental breakdown.

However, he had to acknowledge that the clergy did provide some assistance in cholera prevention.

For example, the Bishop of Exeter, who had just criticized the problem of prostitutes in London, not only didn’t flee his diocese when a large-scale epidemic broke out, but also took to the streets to urge his followers to donate to the poor who couldn’t afford medical treatment. During this time, he also persisted in conducting funeral services for those who died from cholera.

The bishop’s leading charge somewhat stabilized the volatile situation in Exeter. Previously, whenever such large-scale epidemics occurred, Britain’s middle class would always flee the city with their families.

This time, however, cholera did not shatter social order. Shops continued to operate, factories continued to produce, and ports continued to function.

After listening to a sermon, one small shopkeeper even tearfully expressed remorse for his past sins. He declared that he would give up drinking and smoking, among other vices, and start anew as a good person.

Moreover, he called on all members of his trade association to stand bravely in the face of adversity. They, the middle class, had gained wealth from the city, so they shouldn’t stand by and watch it crumble when it faced hardship.

At the shopkeeper’s urging, Exeter raised over 300 pounds in donations within a few days. While this may not seem like much, for Exeter, with a population of only a few thousand, it was definitely a proud achievement.

Though Arthur didn’t know if this man’s decision to quit drinking during the cholera outbreak was wise, he believed that if he could survive this cholera pandemic, he would surely make a lot of money in the future. After all, his good deeds had spread throughout Britain through newspapers in just a few days.

Arthur flipped through the various newspapers he had bought from a newsstand that morning. The heartwarming story of Exeter’s good deeds was certainly touching, but most of the news was not something he could be happy about.

The various miracle cures for cholera in medical journals seemed like a clash of the titans, a battle of the mighty.

Even without a systematic medical education, Arthur couldn’t offer professional opinions, but these myriad approaches, no matter how he looked at them, seemed questionable in terms of reliability.

Whether it was using enemas made with saline, resin, and aromatics for patients, or making them ingest emetics mixed with magnesium oxide, rhubarb, and castor oil, it all seemed quite dubious.

But these methods weren’t the most perplexing to Arthur. He found the blistering therapies, using boiling water, nitric acid, or cantharides ointment applied to specific acupoints on the body, as well as the heartburn, abdomen, and other areas, to be the most baffling.

Doctors insisted that stimulating the skin to form blisters could achieve the effect of clearing meridians, promoting blood circulation, regulating internal organs, and eliminating toxins, thereby achieving the goal of treating internal diseases externally.

However, while it seemed somewhat gruesome, compared to the clergy’s practice of reciting the Bible, Arthur could at least partially accept the methods of Britain’s old physicians.

Among all the papers, the one that caught Arthur’s attention the most was an article in The Lancet proposing a new therapy. These authoritative doctors from the London College of Physicians emphasized: hot air baths, bottled or canned hot water, are always preferable therapies.

They strongly recommended that hospitals with the means should simply give patients a hot steam bath, ideally followed by some muscle-relaxing and heat-generating massage techniques.

They also cited a case of recovery using this therapy. Dr. Dalton of Birmingham published an article claiming that an eight-year-old boy named Barratt had been severely dehydrated, groaning continuously, and on the verge of death.

To this, Dalton immediately gave the patient soda water with brandy and opium tincture. At the same time, he had his assistant fill a bathtub with about six gallons of water and three ounces of nitric acid.

Dalton wrote: “I had him carried into the bathtub and submerged his body completely, with the water level reaching his chin. While he bathed, I had my assistant rub his entire body for twenty minutes.”

When Barratt had been in the tub for about ten minutes and hadn’t been taken out yet, his pulse was already beating strongly. His dry, cold tongue, while not yet at normal temperature, had become moist and warm. Barratt himself said he felt much better and wanted to lie down on the bed to rest.

Dr. Dalton, who had saved a life, couldn’t help but express his joy in the paper: “My little patient now seems to have recovered from that perilous state of collapse.”

Arthur closed the medical journal in front of him, resting his head in one hand, his spirits low. He took a sip of wine.

Although he felt that he wasn’t qualified to meddle in medical matters, perhaps it was because the High Court felt that since lawyers could do forensic work in court, it would be reasonable to send a history-trained policeman to guide public health.

At the very least, the recipient of the London University History Department’s Academic Gold Award surely knew a lot about how the Middle Ages dealt with the Black Death.

Therefore, Arthur’s trip to Liverpool was not just for his anti-smuggling work, but also to oversee the work of the local health commission.

To provide relatively sound advice during health meetings, he had to choose the most reliable treatments from among the myriad options.

In Arthur’s view, this job was far more significant than his responsibilities at Scotland Yard. The Criminal Investigation Department could investigate several cases for weeks and still only solve one murder. However, if cholera was not handled promptly, it could easily shatter Scotland Yard’s KPIs for decades.

Just as he was pondering how to approach his work, the tavern door suddenly swung open.

Louis Bonaparte, clutching a thin document, looked around for a moment. He quickly found Arthur’s location, sat down opposite him, and said, “Arthur, Mr. Mill and his team have roughly compiled the customs declaration information. There are quite a few errors. A preliminary estimate suggests that at least six thousand pounds in taxes are involved.”

“Hm?” Arthur didn’t reach for the document but looked up at Louis. “You found the errors so quickly?”

Louis nodded with a smile, “Yes, much faster than we expected. Mr. Mill and his team didn’t expect it to go so smoothly.”

Arthur leaned back on his chair, resting his arm on the table, and pondered for a moment. “Six thousand pounds… Liverpool’s annual customs revenue is around four hundred thousand. A five percent error isn’t unacceptable.”

“No, no, no.” Louis waved his hand. “Arthur, Mr. Mill said that six thousand pounds is just a preliminary estimate. If we wait until everything is sorted out, it’s likely to be more than double that.”

Arthur pushed the other glass of wine in front of him towards Louis. “Then let’s calculate it at triple, that’s four and a half percent, which is also reasonable. But being able to find these errors in the customs declarations at least means that the Liverpool Customs Office and the Customs Department haven’t given us a special white list. Do you know what that means?”

Louis took a puff of his cigarette and nodded, “They’re willing to cooperate.”

“That’s right.” Arthur nodded. “Since they’re willing to cooperate, let’s play with the chips on the table first.”

Louis heard this and pulled out another document from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Since we’re playing with chips on the table, then you can keep this document for now. It should come in handy later when we raise the stakes.”

Arthur glanced at the document and said, “This is about the Port Authority’s expansion plans?”

Louis nodded slightly. “Liverpool isn’t like London. We don’t have reliable informants here, so I can only go to the docks and inquire around. This morning, I disguised myself as a French tourist and chatted briefly with the local shopkeepers.

They told me something interesting. The upper class in Liverpool loves to buy property. Whether it’s wealthy merchants or government officials, they all do. Oh, maybe I shouldn’t say that, because here, government officials and wealthy merchants are practically synonymous. According to those shopkeepers, about 30% of Liverpool’s real estate is owned by these folks.

And these chatty people also assured me that the most powerful institution in Liverpool is neither the Municipal Council, the Port Authority, nor the Customs Office, but a private commercial organization called the Liverpool Association.

The Liverpool Association is an organization with two centuries of history. How should I describe its power in Liverpool? It’s said that seven Liverpool mayors were born from within its ranks. During its peak, nine out of ten councilors in Liverpool were members of the Liverpool Association. To this day, it still holds over 70% of the council seats.”

Arthur twirled his glass, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the clear crimson wine. “They like to buy land, the Liverpool Association councilors…”

He suddenly leaned back against the chair and said, “They wouldn’t buy so much real estate just for show. Let me guess, they must also love speculating on land, right? And they’ve been quite successful at it. They don’t buy real estate unless they’re buying in the planned expansion area of the port.”

A mysterious smile spread across Louis’ face. “Arthur, you have quite an imagination.”

Arthur took a sip of wine from his glass. “How much did Liverpool’s four new ports cost?”

Louis replied, “On average, each one cost about thirty thousand pounds. The construction cost of each port was between six and eight thousand pounds, and the remaining twenty thousand pounds was used for land requisition, warehouse construction, and supporting facilities.”

“Tsk tsk tsk…”

Louis asked with a smile, “What’s wrong?”

Arthur swirled his glass and replied, “Nothing, I just think the wine in Liverpool is a bit harsh on the throat. I thought London brandy was already quite heavy, but compared to the wine here, it’s practically bland.”

Louis heard this, raised his glass, and took a sip. “Hmm… The wine might be a bit strong, but the Mersey River water is clearer than the Thames River water!”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, set down his glass, and nodded slightly. “You make a valid point. I was wondering why Liverpool’s Port Authority kept asking the House of Commons Public Works Committee for money three times. It turns out that the water quality is different, so the cost of building the port keeps increasing. When I rented a house for a friend of mine, he complained that the price I gave him was too high, saying that my house was made of gold. Now it seems like he’s never been to Liverpool. Houses made of gold are here.”

Louis also joked, “Arthur, you’ve clearly never read The Travels of Marco Polo. What’s so special about a house made of gold? Marco Polo said that in the far east, even the streets are paved with gold. Oh, and on the island to the east of the east, they use silver.”

When Arthur heard this, the wine he was about to drink almost went up his nose.

He quickly pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his mouth to hide his embarrassment. “I’ve taken note of the port issue. However, it’s not within my purview. We don’t need to escalate it to that level for now. At least, based on the customs declarations, they’ve shown some sincerity.”

Louis replied, “I think it’s out of our jurisdiction to meddle in this matter. We don’t need to bring it up unless absolutely necessary. Besides, it’s not just Liverpool that does this. There are many people who have gotten rich doing this. If we rashly expose it, we’ll surely get ourselves into trouble.”

Arthur adjusted his mood, smoothed his hair, and asked, “Besides this, are there any new discoveries?”

Louis thought for a moment and added, “Besides the Port Authority, the Docks Committee is probably not clean either. I flipped through their roster briefly. This place has been controlled by a few families for a long time. And the companies providing services for the Docks Committee’s public affairs are very limited. Most of the procurement list suppliers are a company called Grindrod. If we continue to investigate, there’s definitely something fishy going on there.”

Hearing this, Arthur had a basic understanding of the local ecosystem in Liverpool. He raised his hand to interrupt. “We’ll keep this in mind. We’ll make a note of it, but we can’t play this on the table. I need something subtle, but not so severe that it uproots the entire land of Liverpool.”

Louis nodded, putting on his hat. “Okay, then I’ll go and inquire further.”

Arthur instructed, “Be sure to disguise yourself well and remember to carry a gun when you go out. When you’re not wearing a police uniform, you’re just a regular foreign tourist. If you get knocked unconscious with a stick somewhere, I won’t know how to get you out for a while.”

Louis placed one hand on his chest and bowed slightly. “Of course, sir, don’t worry.”

Arthur watched him leave, then he was about to study the medical journals in his hands.

Suddenly, the tavern door was pushed open again.

A man walked into the tavern, looking around. He suddenly saw the clothes Arthur was wearing and smiled. He came up to Arthur and asked, “Excuse me, are you Mr. Arthur Hastings?”

(End of Chapter)