The Shadow of Great Britain

528: Chapter 276: The Source of the Epidemic 528: Chapter 276: The Source of the Epidemic London Holborn, Greville Street, London Free General Hospital.

If it were just a first glance, the red brick building of only a few storefronts in size would hardly be recognized as a hospital, as it is easily mistaken for a private clinic commonly found by the roadside.

Although the clinic is small, it is well-equipped.

Most commendably, since its establishment in 1828, the London Free General Hospital has been dedicated to providing free medical services to the poor people of London.

The founding of this hospital cannot be discussed without mentioning Dr.

William Marsden, currently also a professor at the University of London’s medical school.

In the cold winter of 1828, Mr.

Marsden found a girl dying of disease and starvation on the steps of St Andrew’s Church in Holborn.

Moved by compassion, Mr.

Marsden picked up the girl, hoping to seek help from a nearby hospital.

However, due to the inability to pay for medical expenses, no hospital was willing to take her in, and the girl ultimately died two days later after missing the best time for relief.

This incident tore Mr.

Marsden’s heart apart.

To prevent such tragedies from recurring, Mr.

Marsden used his own savings to establish this hospital in the Holborn area where he found the girl.

Due to the lack of medicines, staff, and stable income, the operation of the hospital was always a struggle.

However, once the University of London learned of its existence, the utilitarian-minded Board of Trustees quickly extended an olive branch to Mr.

Marsden.

Now, the hospital has formally established a teaching link with the University of London’s medical school, becoming one of their affiliated teaching hospitals.

With a large influx of intern doctors and university funding support, the situation at the London Free General Hospital quickly improved.

Counting the years, this is its third year of operation in London.

Although the hospital is mainly associated with students from the medical school of the University of London, students from other colleges, like Arthur, also often come here for medical treatment.

While they cannot get completely free service as the real poor can, the low medical prices here are still quite cost-effective compared to other hospitals in London.

Arthur leaned on the hospital reception desk, and sitting beside him was Mr.

Marsden.

As a doctor, he originally had good prospects and a decent amount of savings, an excellent annual income, and a respectable position at a Royal hospital.

From any angle, he was part of the decent crowd among the middle-class gentlemen.

But to keep the hospital going, he not only sold his carriage, laid off two servants but now could only squeeze into a small two-bedroom apartment in Holborn with his wife and two children.

Arthur looked at the poor people supporting each other as they entered and left the clinic and at the young, energetic university medical interns, took a sip from his tea cup, and asked, “Mr.

Marsden, long time no see, how is the hospital doing lately?”

Mr.

Marsden appeared to have just finished surgery, with beads of sweat on his forehead and even clear bloodstains on his sleeve.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, not too concerned with appearances, and gulped down a mouthful of tea, “It’s a bit better than before.

Thanks to Mr.

Brougham…

uh, perhaps I should now refer to him as Lord.

In short, since he became High Chancellor, this year’s donations from the University of London have significantly increased, and with it, the previously tight teaching funds for the medical school have become sufficient.

Consequently, the financial support given to the teaching hospitals by the school this year has also doubled.

Although the shortage of medicines has eased, as you know, it’s only just enough for us to barely get by, as there are simply too many poor in London.”

Hearing this, Arthur stirred his tea with a spoon, seemingly pondering something.

Seeing this, Red Devil frowned, and Agares warned, “Arthur, don’t meddle in these matters.”

But Arthur clearly wasn’t one to heed such advice.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a brand-new check for one hundred and fifty pounds, placing it on the counter, “Please, take this for now.”

Mr.

Marsden took another gulp of tea and picked up the check, looking at it, “What is this…one hundred and fifty pounds?

Did the Board of Trustees send you to bring next year’s money early?”

Arthur just smiled, “You could say that.

I had planned to donate this money to the school anyway, and I suppose the Board would have likely ended up giving it to you.

So why go through all that trouble?

It’s more convenient for me to bring it directly to you.”

“This is your donation?”

Mr.

Marsden put down his tea cup and surveyed Arthur’s attire.

After pondering for a moment, he pushed the money back, “Arthur, you are among the most outstanding of the first group of graduates; I’ve heard many professors mention this.

But your career is just starting, and I’m not against your involvement in charitable work, yet you’ve been working for only a few years, and this money must be all your savings, right?”

Arthur just waved his hand dismissively and, tapping on his bandaged arm, joked, “You’re undervaluing me by saying that; I got this one hundred and fifty pounds by trading this arm, and I haven’t touched a penny of my savings.

It’s just that I think this one hundred fifty pounds is blood money, so it should be used where there’s blood involved.

And after looking around, your hospital might just be the most suitable place in all of London.”