The Shadow of Great Britain

763: Chapter 362: The Duality of Britain and France_2 763: Chapter 362: The Duality of Britain and France_2 But the distrust in the government and police cannot be blamed on the ignorance of these citizens; rather, it should be ‘credited’ to the ‘fine reputation’ that the Paris police had slowly accumulated over the past half-century.

After all, from any reasonable person’s perspective, it would be very difficult to trust a group of individuals who have, in the past, shot at you, cannonaded you, swung swords at you, and routinely extorted you.

In this way, as the Paris police’s denials of the rumors grew more fervent, the increasingly skeptical Parisian populace became more and more convinced of the existence of poisoning incidents.

Action was taken en masse, with vigilantes at pubs, pools, markets, and crossroads monitoring and interrogating anyone suspected of poisoning.

Such behaviors also led to many bloody incidents on the streets of Paris, in which numerous innocents were suspected, beaten, and even murdered.

Heine depicted such phenomena in the letter he sent to Arthur.

At the corners of streets where taverns coated in red paint stood, people gathered of their own volition.

It was in these places that suspects were hunted down; if one was found with suspicious items in their pockets, they were in great trouble.

The mob would descend on them like a beast, like an angry army.

Many escaped by their wits, many were spared through the aid of patrolling officers that day.

Six people faced merciless slaughter.

No scene is more terrifying than the rage of the people, especially when it turns bloodthirsty, strangling unarmed victims.

In the streets, the crowd surged, shirt-clad workers seemed like the damned, like devils, like clashing white-capped waves, roaring mercilessly, shouting.

On Saint-Denis Street I heard shouts of, “Let’s hang him from the lamppost!”

From my window, I saw one of the unfortunate barely clinging to life as an elderly woman took off her shoe and beat his head with the heel until he died.

He was naked, covered in blood, covered in wounds.

Not only had they stripped him of his clothes, but they had also plucked his eyebrows, hair, and nose.

Then came a ferocious fellow, who tied the corpse’s feet with a rope, dragged it through the streets while continually shouting, “This is the cholera virus!”

And there on the side of the road was a distinguished and beautiful woman, her body and hands smeared with blood, who also delivered a heavy blow to the passing corpse.

In order to clarify the facts, Victor, under the orders of the minister, had to go to various shops and wells across Paris to collect wine, spirits, juice, water, bread, meat, candy, and water samples among other suspicious items to be sent to the French Academy of Sciences for testing.

The results of the tests were publicized in the major newspapers of Paris the next day, revealing that the tested items did not contain any poison, while the internal and external doctors of Hôtel-Dieu hospital collectively issued a statement that they had conducted comprehensive exams on the patients admitted to the hospital and discovered no signs of poisoning.

However, these scientific evidences were not the main reason behind the dispelling of the rumors.

What truly convinced the Parisians that the cholera outbreak was not the result of poisoning was the steadily increasing number of infected individuals amidst the riots.

When cholera cases were first identified in Paris on March 26, there were only 16 infections and 7 deaths over four days.

After the ragpickers’ riot, the St.

Pelagie Prison uprising, and the violent incidents sparked by the poisoning rumors, by April 6 there were 1,851 new cholera cases in a single day, with 670 people dying that same day.

According to Victor’s conservative estimates, Paris was seeing a daily death toll of around 800 people.

And if those who died before they could be taken to the hospital were included, Paris might have at least 1,200 people falling victim to cholera each day.

As impolite as it is to say, compared to Paris, even London, which was thrown into chaos by cholera, could be considered orderly.

According to statistics from Britain’s Central Health Committee, last month Britain saw a new peak in cholera deaths; across 431 countable towns and villages in Britain, a total of 1,519 people lost their lives to cholera.

Under the relentless onslaught of cholera, the British Cabinet and Central Health Committee finally mustered the determination to make desperate attempts at finding a cure as if clutching at straws.

At this point, they cared not about accusations of despotism.

Fourteen newly appointed health inspectors were dispatched to the major industrial cities across the nation, and they required every parish to enforce the control of contaminated drinking water.

Lord High Chancellor Brougham directly issued an almost threatening public letter to the priests of each parish.

In that public letter, Lord Brougham claimed:

In this urgent moment, priests should fortify their faith and prioritize the health of their congregation above all else.

If the priests insisted on resisting like the parish of Clergy Street, refusing to invest their Poor Relief Tax into public health, then he would have to consider using the official power in the hands of the High Chancellor to temporarily withhold their Holy Salary.

If their behavior did not improve after the suspension of their Holy Salary, Brougham did not rule out submitting their names to the Chief Bishop in charge of the southern churches of England, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Deputy Archbishop in charge of the northern churches of England, the Archbishop of York.

Compared to the lip service of Lord Brougham, the approach of Victor Godric, Viscount and head of the War and Colonial Affairs Department, was much more direct.