Chapter 243: Spreading Warmth and Education
While Gérard was discussing the sale of steam engines by the cozy fireplace with Watt, little Oliver was busy delivering warmth to the residents of Petticoat Lane under the guidance of Feigin.
This act of delivering warmth was truly heartfelt. A week earlier, a brutal and invisible intruder known to the doctors as "pneumonia" had stealthily entered Petticoat Lane. This uninvited guest roamed through the lane, touching here and there with his icy fingers. This malefactor boldly strolled through, leaving a trail of victims behind, dozens and even scores of unfortunate souls in every courtyard he entered.
For the impoverished people of Petticoat Lane, falling ill at this time was akin to stepping through the gates of the underworld. Starting three days ago, every morning, cold, lifeless bodies were dragged out from the dark little houses on either side of Petticoat Lane. These bodies were placed on stiff wooden carts, one, two...until the cart was filled to the brim. The shivering cartman, numbed by the cold, cracked his whip, and the horse's nostrils exhaled white mist as the iron-clad hooves pounded on the hard, iron-like ground. The cart rumbled slowly forward, the ungreased wheels emitting a low, intermittent friction sound, akin to the lament of a worker's wife, who had been awakened by the cold in the middle of the night, realizing that she had no idea how to fill her husband and children's hungry stomachs the next day.
This dire situation greatly concerned Feigin. Dealing with pneumonia was beyond his capabilities. At this point, he could only rely on natural means and the grace of God, hoping that the residents could rely on their own resistance and divine protection to weather this calamity. Then, after the elderly and children had mostly succumbed to the disease, perhaps...a form of herd immunity might emerge.
This demonstrated Feigin's remarkable talent and insight, ample qualifications to serve as a prime minister in a later century's corrupt country. Being a mere gang leader within a small faction seemed quite underutilized for his talents.
However, Feigin was determined to alleviate some of the residents' suffering. He believed that the severity of pneumonia in Petticoat Lane was, to a great extent, due to the extreme cold. Thus, he had to find a way to raise the nighttime temperatures in the area.
Recent improvements in the economy were reflected in the earnings of Feigin's crew. Their success rate as pickpockets hadn't increased, but the amount they collected from each affluent gentleman had significantly risen.
Furthermore, not long ago, Feigin had successfully collaborated with a young man eager to extract more money from his miserly father to fund his visits to taverns and encounters with women. They executed a kidnapping scheme together. With the enthusiastic cooperation and assistance of their "victim," they obtained a total of three thousand pounds from an elderly gentleman (though the victim took away a portion of the loot). Additionally, Feigin's wealthy friend, who had now become a Frenchman, generously donated a thousand francs. This year, Feigin's pockets were fuller than ever before.
This allowed Feigin to be more generous when delivering warmth this year. In the past, he could only provide each Petticoat Lane household with a small piece of cloth. However, this year, he could provide each household with an actual blanket.
These blankets were all secondhand goods that Feigin's friends had scavenged from various flea markets. Compared to purchasing brand-new blankets, buying secondhand items offered better value. If Joseph were present, he might suggest boiling these secondhand blankets in a large pot.
However, in this era, while bacteria had been discovered, the link between bacteria and disease had not yet been established. People were unaware that certain bacteria could cause illnesses or how to eliminate them. Consequently, no one paid attention to such matters.
Oliver followed Feigin as they went from house to house, delivering the blankets. Every family was deeply grateful to the virtuous Feigin, and even Oliver felt a sense of pride accompanying him. However, there wasn't much of a smile on Feigin's face. In fact, whenever he left a house, the smile on his face was immediately whisked away by the biting cold outside.
That evening, Feigin gathered the key members of his gang and shared some surprising news with them.
"Tooth, Butcher, and Cuckoo, gather around. I've called you here for a reason. You know Jacques Goren has returned, and he's now the second secretary at the French Embassy. He's visited me several times and even made some donations to our cause."
"I know. Back when we were just kids, we used to hear stories about 'Sparrow's Luck' from you. He's a true, loyal friend. Even after achieving success, he hasn't forgotten us," one of them replied.
"Back, Jacques Goren has talked to me several times, and he thinks our approach is wrong," Feigin explained.
"Our approach? Does he think we should change our tactics now that he's successful?" Tooth raised an eyebrow.
Feigin shook his head. "No, Jacques Goren has always been our brother. But after spending so many years in France, his experiences and perspectives have grown. He believes that our small-scale activities won't change anything."
"Then what does he want? Does he want to become the next Feigin?" Butcher asked.
"He doesn't want to take my place; I would be more than happy to hand it to him if he did. After all, it was supposed to be his from the beginning, before he had to flee to France for a certain reason. But as I mentioned, Jacques Goren has broader horizons. You see, he participated in the French Revolution. He was there, cheering when Louis XVI was sent to the guillotine."
"Good Lord! He actually witnessed the beheading of a king?"
"He even participated in it. He was part of the storming of the Bastille, he followed Saint-Just—whom the French call the Archangel of the Revolution. He served as Saint-Just's messenger on the battlefield, and in Paris, he gathered information for the Jacobins. He personally sent many noble gentlemen to the guillotine. Now you understand why I say his ambitions are grand," Feigin explained.
"Dear God, is he thinking of introducing something like that here?" Butcher asked.
"He hopes that we can unite the poor people of the entire slum, not just for higher wages through strikes, but for political rights. He believes we can change the rules for this country, for the world. It's a risky endeavor," Feigin paused and continued, "you know, it's a matter of life and death."
"Most of us here have faced life and death situations," Butcher replied.
"This is different," Feigin shook his head. "I've been thinking a lot. While I trust Jacques Goren and find his words reasonable, I must go to France personally to see the place after the revolution. Then I'll come back and discuss it with all of you before making a decision."
"Feigin, you're leaving for a while? Who will lead us?" Tooth quickly asked.
"Jacques Goren supports my decision to visit France and suggested that I train in Toulon—a place where the Irishman Lassalle reportedly trained and now has a thriving business. Perhaps I'll visit Paris first, then Toulon, maybe even Ireland before returning," Feigin explained.
"How long will you be gone, Feigin?" Butcher inquired.
"At least half a year, maybe longer, but not more than a year. I'll probably leave next month. During this time, Butcher will temporarily take charge in my absence. Butcher, you can discuss things with Tooth. Also, if there are any serious issues, you can turn to Jacques Goren. You can trust him completely; he's still our brother. I'll leave at the end of next month, so in the meantime, start managing the gang's affairs, and I can provide guidance while I'm here."
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