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The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 105
🕑 Added 2025-03-28 20:05:01 +0000 UTCChapter 105: Medicine Has Ceased to Exist
Lamarck continued, "I have seen people planting potatoes in the northeast, around Metz, Lorraine, and as far as Bézancon. Some of the villages and towns there even use potatoes as a staple food. As for other places... the people of Toulouse even refuse to feed potatoes to pigs, claiming that it would contaminate the pork."
Joseph was somewhat depressed. He had finally found a way to alleviate the great famine, yet the French would rather starve than eat this food.
Moreover, from Lamarck’s words, it seemed that the nobility had accepted potatoes long ago. So why had it not been able to influence the common people? Perhaps a wide-reaching campaign through newspapers and pamphlets, along with free tasting events, might have some effect.
He also recalled Lamarck mentioning that some people referred to potatoes as "the devil of the earth," suggesting that superstition might be the main reason people rejected potatoes. If that was the case, the church would need to cooperate in promoting them...
Joseph then asked Lamarck for his knowledge on potato cultivation. As they were talking, the carriage arrived at the door of the pharmaceutical workshop.
"Your Highness, it seems you are very interested in potatoes," Lamarck paused the conversation. "I can compile this knowledge for you and write it out."
Seeing Lamarck’s eager expression, Joseph nodded, "Thank you very much, Count Lamarck. Now, let us begin testing the production of penicillin."
"Penicillin? Is that the name of that miraculous medicine?" Lamarck quickly took out pen and paper and began recording.
"Yes," Joseph paused for a moment, then reminded Lamarck, "Even this name must not be disclosed. From now on, we will refer to this medicine as a Type I antibiotic."
The words "penicillin" and "penicillium" were too similar and could easily cause people to connect the two.
This strategic-level medicine could not have even the slightest information leaked out.
The person who opened the gate to the pharmaceutical workshop for Joseph was a royal guard—security had now been taken over by them here.
Joseph raised an eyebrow at the guard's neat uniform and the muskets behind him, and ordered Captain Kessold to have the guards change into plain clothes to avoid attracting the attention of foreign spies.
Once the carriage stopped in the open area of the workshop, Éymond immediately opened the door for the Crown Prince.
"Thank you." Joseph nodded to the attendant and got out of the carriage. Looking around, he noticed that the place had changed significantly from before.
First, the ground was spotless. The workers’ clothes and the tools in the workshop were exceptionally clean, almost as if it were not the 18th century.
The shed on the right appeared to be a drying rack, holding various raw materials that needed to be air-dried.
The workers were busily moving around the workshop, either transporting raw materials or loading finished products onto wagons.
Of course, the majority were working at various instruments, occasionally raising their hands to shout data to a recorder standing by. The recorder would remind them of the time of their operations. Occasionally, light steam drifted through the air, obscuring their figures.
Joseph nodded to himself. Clearly, Lamarck had put in a great deal of effort to manage this place. Probably nowhere in Paris could compare to this professional pharmaceutical facility.
After touring the laboratory, Joseph was nearly certain that it had the conditions necessary to produce penicillin.
He turned to Lamarck and said, "Let’s begin. First, please find something moldy—preferably with a greenish hue."
Lamarck was a bit surprised but still took the note seriously, then turned and exited the room.
Perhaps due to the workshop’s cleanliness, it took him over half an hour to return, carrying a few pieces of moldy dried corn and a moldy towel.
Joseph lowered his voice, saying, "Now, I will tell you the most important thing—this Type I antibiotic is actually a secretion of penicillium, which can be extracted from these moldy spots."
Lamarck’s eyes widened in shock, but the Crown Prince had surprised him many times before, and he had no doubt about him. He simply kept recording.
Joseph recalled the documentary he had watched about penicillin and continued, "So, first, we need to cultivate more mold. You can use corn, rice, or potatoes to make a slurry, then put the mold on top. After that, control the temperature—it’s something you’ll have to experiment with yourself. After a few days, a large amount of mold will grow."
"Also, you need to pre-culture bacteria to test the drug’s effectiveness. For example, you can use sputum from pneumonia patients, put it into filtered meat broth or agar, and control the temperature so the bacteria can proliferate..."
"Wait!" Lamarck noticed a blind spot. "Are you saying that there are ‘bacteria’ in the sputum of pneumonia patients? Does this have anything to do with pneumonia?"
Joseph sighed, realizing that although the medical community knew about bacteria by now, they had not yet connected them to diseases.
He briefly explained to Lamarck, "There are pathogenic components in sputum, specifically certain bacteria."
"Bacteria? Are you saying that bacteria cause illness?!" Lamarck was extremely excited. "No, this is completely different from the theories of miasma, humoral balance, or acid-base balance. How do bacteria make people sick? How are you sure about this? Is there a complete theoretical system for this..."
"Those theories of miasma and humors are incorrect," Joseph interrupted his barrage of questions. "The answer you want is actually in the very medicine you’re about to create."
Lamarck’s hands trembled slightly. If what the Crown Prince said was true, then everything he had learned in medicine would be overturned! Or rather, the entire field of medicine might no longer exist!
And if the Crown Prince was wrong, then this miraculous Type I antibiotic might just be a fantasy.
He didn’t want either of those outcomes...
Lamarck suddenly had a philosophical thought—if all previous medical knowledge was erroneous, then did that mean he was still a doctor, or should he be considered a fraud, or a spreader of false information...
He shook his head, trying not to think about these maddening questions, and refocused on the medicine. "Your Highness, what should we do next?"
Joseph looked at his pale face and sighed, then continued, "Carefully filter the penicillin culture. The exact method of filtration is something you’ll have to experiment with yourself."
"Since penicillin is water-soluble, we can use oil to extract other substances from the filtrate, leaving only the part that is insoluble in oil."
"Then purify it using activated charcoal..."
"Activated charcoal?" Lamarck had another question.
"Oh, activated charcoal is made by heating wood in a metal vessel..."
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