Chapter 1： Jerome Bonaparte in faithful London

April 22, 1848 at 8 a.m.

A clipper ship full of cargo and passengers departed from Calais and crossed the English Channel, breaking through the white fog scattered on the sea level and arriving in the waters near the London Dockyard in the early morning.

On the watchtower of the dock, the signalman responsible for reporting the entry of ships into the port gave a signal to the moving ships to allow entry, and reported the news of the arrival of ships to the personnel below the observation deck. The London Dockyard, which had been silent all night, welcomed it First order of the day.

"You pigs and trash! If you don't want to be unemployed like other wharves, hurry up for me!"

At the pier on the shore, the dockers, dressed in shabby and dusty clothes, gathered their tired bodies, who had just transported and sorted the goods, but had no time to rest for a while, and boarded the prepared boats.

Although their faces were filled with numbness, their bodies moved involuntarily.

Jobs were not easy to find in the 19th century, let alone these special times. If there is a slight error, the only thing waiting for them is unreasonable layoffs.

Layoffs are a slow death for a dockworker, who has seen corpses drifting down the Thames in the days since the economic crisis.

The roommates who were laughing and laughing together the day before may become a member of the homeless army the next day because they are unemployed and unable to pay the rent.

Not to mention them, even those gentlemen who are well-dressed on weekdays face the risk of unemployment and even death all the time.

These days, they have seen countless corpses floating on the Thames, wearing black jackets with their heads turned to the water and their backs to the sky.

Listening to them, these people are those who like to opportunistically on weekdays.

It must not be the purest wish of every dock worker to be fired.

…

Under the guidance of the observation deck, the small boats docked on both sides of the London Dock slowly entered the narrow distributary channel. The sails were put up one after another, and the boat continued to travel a certain distance with the help of the remaining strength, until the thick iron anchor sank completely under the water.

Several small boats gradually approached the cargo ship sailboat, and the wooden inclined ladder fell from the sailboat to the small boat.

Under the command of the sailors, the passengers on the plywood slide from the inclined ladder to the dinghy, and then take the dinghy to the shore.

The passengers left the ship one by one and boarded the dinghy, until the last young man.

At this time, he smiled and shook hands with the sailors who surrounded him in turn.

The sailors who were held by the young people were very excited, and they kept chanting words such as "Long Live the Emperor" and "Long Live the Empire".

"Cough...cough..."

A crisp cough came from behind the sailors. Almost all the sailors knew that the owner of the voice was the captain of the ship, and then came the rough voice of the first mate: "You have to surround the guests. When! Have you all forgotten your own jobs? Why don't you go to work!"

The sailors who originally surrounded the young man scattered when they heard Dafuku's rough voice, and many sailors had regretful expressions on their faces.

The captain and first mate came to the young man and opened their mouths respectfully and said, "I'm very sorry for what happened just now! Your Royal Highness!"

The young man who was called the prince by the captain looked only twenty-three or four years old, with a slender body, a flowing golden head swaying in the wind under the sea breeze, and his face with black pupils and sharp corners resembled that person.

"Sir!" The young man stretched out his hand with a smile and said sincerely: "The empire has long ceased to exist for many years, and I am no longer a prince! I prefer you to call me Napoleon Jerome. . Bonaparte [1]!"

"His Royal Highness..." The captain held little Jerome's hand like a child seeing a new toy: "Oh no! Forgive me for calling you Jerome, my father was originally a member of the Imperial Guard, I I grew up listening to the emperor's stories as a child..."

The captain told little Jerome about how his father became a member of the emperor's army, went through Leipzig with the emperor, and was forced to retire after the war because of an injury to his right foot...

"When I learned that you were on the ship... I really didn't know how to face you... My father always taught me..." The captain chattered like a flood with a tap turned on, talking about their family's history of fighting for the emperor .

Jerome listened to the captain's words quietly, nodding from time to time.

The captain's incessant words continued for nearly half an hour, until the first mate who was standing by the side lightly touched his body with his elbow.

The captain who reacted quickly apologized to Jerome.

Jerome nodded and said, "Thank you for everything you have done for the empire. The Bonaparte family will not forget his supporters!"

After speaking, Jerome took out the pocket watch from his jacket pocket. It was already a quarter past nine.

There are less than 2 hours left until the meeting.

"I'm sorry! Please allow me to excuse me, I will meet with my cousin! It's not what a gentleman should do to rush to make an appointment!" Jerome said apologetically in his tone.

"No... no... I was abrupt!" The captain also apologized.

Under the watchful eye of the captain, first mate and the whole crew, Jerome Bonaparte left the sailboat and jumped into the dinghy leading to the London pier.

Sitting at the stern of the boat, little Jerome looked at the countless boats going back and forth on both sides of the river, with a hint of confusion in his eyes.

It has been nearly 4 months since he traveled to the present, and there is still a layer of estrangement between him and this world.

Everything in front of me seems to be so illusory, but it really exists.

The water in the Thames is many times dirtier than in the 21st century, and there is an indescribable pungent smell in the air.

It's time to let those who advocate fresh air come here to take a look, the pure and fresh air of the 19th century.

Little Jerome silently complained in his heart.

The boat continued to move forward, and the pungent smell became stronger and stronger.

Sitting on the boat and looking far into the distance, you can see rows of towering "chimneys" emitting white smoke in the distance.

This kind of smoke is the sulfur dioxide after burning coal. If it is the 21st century, such emissions will only attract the attention of environmental protection workers, and rectification and shutdown are just around the corner.

In the 19th century, it was a symbol of the power of an empire.

The giant beast called industry is spreading its fierce fangs in an attempt to devour the whole world.

Notes: 1. Napoleon. Jerome Bonaparte (September 9, 1822 - March 17, 1891), the son of Jerome Bonaparte, Napoleon's nephew.