Harry Potter Morning Light

Chapter 1474 Paris Lover

Ireland "was" and "still" was a member of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and it has always been governed by English law, subject to the various laws of the British Parliament.

"Once" refers to the Stuart dynasty, which was the first royal family to successfully rule the kingdoms of Scotland, England and Ireland in the British Isles, although its rule was actually unstable.

"Still" refers to the House of Hanover, following the reunification of the Kingdom of Great Britain following the annexation of Ireland to the United Kingdom in 1801.

Before the merger, Ireland still had tariff protection, and after the merger, there will be no protection. Ireland will be completely reduced to a "vegetable garden", providing agricultural products for England.

When the famine broke out in Ireland, the British government also thought about using work-for-relief. Unfortunately, the local area lacked the necessary infrastructure, which was the result of decades of economic exploitation.

Wheat is not only the staple food of the French, but also the staple food of the British and Irish. It is impossible for Bonaparte to collect 1.2 billion francs to realize Lange’s vision at once, but if anyone sees the mountains of grains piled up on the pier, And the porters carrying sacks like ants will wonder whether France is really short of food.

Napoleon's cavalry may not be able to cross the English Channel, but British civilians can come to France and exchange their shipments of wheat for Bordeaux wine.

There are also vineyards in England, but not as good as those in France. In the past, if the UK wanted to drink wine, it had to import sherry and Porto wine from Portugal. In the 17th century, because of the hegemony between Britain and France, France did not allow Bordeaux wine to be exported to the UK, so the UK turned its attention to the Portuguese royal family. Chaputal asked Britain to allow French wines to be imported under the same conditions as Portugal.

Corresponding to this is the high tariff on industrial products, which is certainly unfair to the textile industry. Coquebert de Mombray and some business representatives persuaded Britain to allow France to take some temporary measures to protect its own industry.

It's like a horse locked in a stable in winter, it feels very comfortable to be able to run freely, but this kind of thing won't last long, and it will still go to "work" after running freely for a while.

The charter is the privilege of the royal family to the colonies, not issued by the parliament, which is only qualified for review.

It was not easy to get a mad George III to stop granting charters, and Addington managed it.

Jefferson, who loathed the charter, was glad to see it go, but everyone knew the brief good times were temporary. Austria and Russia are very worried about the fate of Switzerland, especially after they recognized Malmaison's pardon on May 26, and the issue of compensation for the Duke of Orange is also ready to be negotiated in Berlin.

Nelson is on vacation, and Bonaparte has to continue working. This is the end of making enemies everywhere.

Doctors can heal the wounds of the body, but they cannot heal the wounds of the mind.

Georgiana sighed. She felt that she might not be alive soon.

Napoleoni lacks tenderness and consideration. He is like a desperado who has today and no tomorrow. He can do whatever he wants. Maybe he doesn't regard "eternity" as important anymore.

Exporting a large amount of grain is a misstep, but for Addington, who is eager to recover the post-war deficit, he can't care so much. Everyone is betting whether the weather this year will be the same as last year. If the grain harvest continues to fail, it will It was Addington's turn to organize the food supply.

The weather forecast is also a kind of prophecy.

The exiles are still waiting for the prophesied "Prince" who is the protector of humanity, justice and culture. He was not Bourbon, but this word was artificially added, so the prince became the Prince of France. .

"Why sigh?" asked her little French lover.

"I'm thinking of a poem by Madame Pompidou," said Georgiana slowly. "Without intelligence, without noble feelings, without beauty, and without youth, you can still find first-rate lovers in France."

He laughed.

"Your way of flattering people is really strange." He said happily.

"I don't think any woman has the audacity to take you for a lover," said Georgiana dryly. "If I were to write a biography, I would be sure to sell well."

He ignored her nonsense, like an ordinary, energetic young man, he hugged her young-looking old bones again, and praised her glibly.

Napoleon was a poet and a writer, but that was a long time ago.

His poems are not so good, and his novels are not so good, but the words are rational, you can't feel his breath, you can't see his eyes, even if he is a lie, he can write down the words smoothly .

Desai obviously didn't say anything like "It's a pity that I can't leave my name in the future", but Napoleon Bonaparte told the story as it was true, which made her think that it was because of him and Kleber. The two memorial pillars are to fulfill his dream.

She remembered Severus' Cockney accent, and his deep voice, which he hadn't had as a kid as he had grown up.

She doesn't want to get involved in Bonaparte's childhood, she just hopes that the young man who said he was old at the age of 30 can maintain a healthy mind and don't make terrible decisions like a cold-blooded animal, one of his choices will change many people fate.

He is no longer the little man who used to panic in the riotous streets.

The peeling skin on his chest has improved a lot under the doctor's treatment, and it doesn't look so scary anymore.

She reached out and touched it lightly, whether it was Marat, or it was the Jacobins who decided to free the slaves, give them freedom, and decide to suspend the hereditary system. She was so superstitious that maybe he had this disease at this time. No coincidence.

This person is something that a conservative British girl like Georgiana who lives in peaceful times has never come into contact with, a so-called revolutionary.

Worse than a hippie in a jacket, he was strictly forbidden by fathers to their daughters, but in those turbulent times, even fathers could not guarantee their own lives, let alone protect their families.

She was bold and wanted to leave her marks on him, such as scratches or something, but he stopped her.

He still needs a doctor's dressing, and his parents-in-law haven't left yet.

She felt disappointed, but she didn't insist, and then he asked her who pierced her ears, and she answered the question honestly.

It was Severus who wore it for her.

Then he began to look at her body, as if looking for a place to pierce her, she couldn't play with young people.

He said afterward that he might as well leave his mark on her as if she were a cow.

"Do you not care about your own life or death at all?" He asked, "You don't even ask who poisoned you."

"I'm more concerned about the overall situation." She said calmly, "I don't want to cause too much trouble like Marie Matoinette, and let others get out of hand."

Then she touched the black cloth bag hanging around his neck, which contained deadly poison.

"I want a piece of jewelry."

"What jewelry?"

"A locket, I want to put poison in it." She said softly, "I'm not as afraid of death as Louis XV. For me, death is just a kind of long sleep."

"Isn't it freedom?" He asked back, "You can break free from the cage of your body."

"There are still corpses, don't bother to preserve them, I don't want to be incinerated and dumped into the Seine like Saint Geneviève."

He froze for a moment, "Why did you mention her?"

"I dreamed of her." Georgiana pouted. "She thinks I brought Attila into town."

He seemed to be wondering who Attila was.

"What do you think is the difference between civilization and barbarism?" asked Georgiana.

"I don't want to think about it right now." He buried his head and started kissing her neck.

She always felt that he seemed to bite the blood vessels in her neck at any time, just like a lion hunting its prey.

At least lions eat their prey after they kill them, whereas wolves "eat" while their prey are alive.

The same is in Paris, the same is a French lover, why is there such a big difference?

She recalled the Delmid who held a violet in her hand, dressed like a trumpet Napoleon, and said loudly "Please accept my apology for being late" at the Schaptal's house, and she didn't know if she could get it again. The same treatment, only the "flower girl" becomes the real person.

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