Make France Great Again

August 20, 1850.

The "gold bar lottery", known as the "white slave trade" by later generations, was successively sold in major cities such as Paris, Rouen, Lyon, Strasbourg, and Nancy.

The lottery ticket has a pink theme. On the front is a string of "winning" numbers and a slogan. The slogan reads "Give me a franc and I will give you a dream!". On the back is a bust of Emperor Napoleon and the logo in the lower right corner. A line of small print [All proceeds from the lottery will be used to establish a "worker village" in the form of charity]

As soon as the lottery was released, it was unanimously sought after by all the lumpenproletarians in France. This group of lumpenproletarians who dreamed of getting rich suddenly spent their only money to buy lottery tickets.

In less than four days, nearly 3 million lottery tickets were cleared, and the printing factory had to work overtime.

Since the second edition was printed at night, the workmanship and care were far inferior to those of the first edition, resulting in multiple duplicate numbers.

The second version of the lottery appeared again on booths around the country six days later, and more gangsters and proletarians who wanted to get rich joined the army.

Not only the lumpen proletarians, but also some workers who are diligent and thrifty can't stand the low prices and their dreams of gold mining, and they also spend money to have fun.

The second version of the 4 million lottery ticket also took more than a week to sell out.

Lottery players who experienced two rounds of frenzy finally calmed down, but the Gold Bar Lottery still won nearly 5 million lottery tickets again in the next half month.

In the end, about 3,000 "lucky people" were selected to go to California to realize their gold mining dream.

[The reason why there are so many people is because of printing errors. 】

Excluding the 20% of printing and major offline expenses as well as the expenses of the lucky ones traveling to France, the money that can reach Jerome Bonaparte's hands is approximately more than 9 million francs.

But these are already a few months later.

At this time, he was being shuttled through a ball held by the mayor of Rouen with wine in his hands. All the members attending the ball were elite figures in the Rouen area. They were also invited by the mayor of Rouen to attend the ball.

Jérôme Bonaparte, who blended into another group from one group to another, could become the focus of the group in an instant. He proudly declared to the members of the group that "no one understands and loves the Republic better than him!" "Only when it is completely realized Only with a republic and universal suffrage can France be truly liberated!" and the like.

At the same time, he also suggested toasting to the Republic from time to time. The elites of Rouen always smiled knowingly, and they also toasted to the toast in a flattering manner.

After a glass of wine, the Rouen elite hinted to Jérôme Bonaparte that the tariffs on Britain should be raised to ensure that France would be more competitive.

Jérôme Bonaparte was no longer surprised by the Rouen elite's remarks that they wanted to raise tariffs to develop a monopoly market.

Since the establishment of absolute royal power in France, France has had a tradition of raising tariffs to protect its local economy.

Furthermore, the soil of French industry is also inseparable from the protection of industry.

Although raising tariffs will make imported coal more expensive, it is still profitable in a near-monopoly market.

Jérôme Bonaparte was slightly tipsy and agreed to the request of Rouen textile owners. The textile owners were delighted and frequently toasted to Jérôme Bonaparte.

Surrounded by the crowd, Jérôme Bonaparte returned to his residence in Rouen.

Early the next morning, a rapid knock came from outside the door to the bedroom.

Jerome Bonaparte, who had a splitting headache, opened his eyes desperately and buried his head on the pillow. He responded lazily: "Please come in!"

"Your Excellency, intelligence from Britain!" Walewski placed the envelope next to Jerome Bonaparte's bed.

"What's the content? Read it to me!" The groggy Jerome Bonaparte didn't want to open his eyes, but he still asked Valewski with lazy emphasis.

Under the order of Jérôme Bonaparte, Valewski opened the envelope and read the contents aloud: "The former King of Orleans, Louis-Philippe d'Orléans, is in critical condition. After many doctors diagnosed him, he is now in critical condition." Notice of critical illness! I hope your majesty will inform you soon!"

Jérôme Bonaparte suddenly woke up from the hazy state. He opened his eyes and turned over and asked in a serious tone: "What? Say it again!"

Walewski read the contents of the envelope to Jerome Bonaparte again.

"Okay!" The news that Louis Philippe was critically ill made Jerome Bonaparte completely energetic. There was nothing more exciting than this news.

"I thought he could survive this summer, but I didn't expect that he would die so soon! What a blessing from God!" Jerome Bonaparte became a little incomparable because of his excitement: "I thought something had changed... "

"Yes!" A sad emotion flashed in Walewski's eyes, and he still maintained a respectful attitude towards the gentleman who lived in seclusion in Claremont.

When he was in the Orleans Dynasty, Louis Philippe gave him a lot of help.

"Good! Good! Good!" Compared with Valewski's grief, Jérôme Bonaparte's impression of Louis Philippe was not so good.

In addition to being a contender for the throne between him and Louis Philippe, Jérôme Bonaparte's "own" brother also died indirectly at the hands of Louis Philippe.

The hatred between Jérôme Bonaparte and Louis Philippe can be described as "eternal".

"Your Excellency, we think we should be more prepared for the Party of Order!" Valewski couldn't help but put forward his own suggestions to Jerome Bonaparte.

"Why?" Jerome Bonaparte asked Valewski.

"Louis Philippe's obstacle is gone. Both the Orleans faction and the Orthodox faction are interested in fusion! As long as the monarchs of both factions agree..." Walewski explained Jérôme Bonnard from a normal person's perspective. Ba analysis.

"Why didn't the two factions of monarchs break up?" Jérôme Bonaparte retorted.

"Your Excellency, they are already facing a disadvantage and it should be impossible for them to engage in internal struggles!" Walewski said cautiously.

"Cousin, you don't understand the Count of Chambord! It is absolutely impossible for this guy to unite with the Orleans faction. Believe me! It will be after Louis Philippe dies that the two factions will completely split." Jérôme Bonnet Ba said categorically that he could not wait to see the Orleans faction and the orthodox faction having to fight among themselves because of various monarchs and classes [feudal hierarchy vs. bourgeois monarchy].

…

While Jérôme Bonaparte and Valewski were discussing Louis Philippe at the Rouen Castle, Louis Philippe in Clermont Township, a subsidiary of London, was experiencing his own revolving door journey.

Since Britain is closer to the north than France, the time in London is also almost an hour behind Paris.

When the hazy fog dissipated from the sky above Claremont Township, the warm and genial sunshine slowly rose and swept over every inch of the wilderness.

The green grassy fields and lush forests thrive even more after being nourished by the sunshine. The refreshing island breeze blows from the depths of the jungle, and the countryside is full of prosperity.

In this prosperous countryside, there is only one villa with a lingering cloud of sadness hanging over it.

According to the information obtained from the farmers leaning against the scarecrow and the squires in the tavern, it was said that the owners of those villas were about to return to the embrace of God.

In fact, just as Tato said when chatting with the squire, the second floor of the villa was filled with a nervous atmosphere at this time. The servants whispered to each other, for fear that they would be betrayed by the master who was in a bad mood due to whispering. Cursing, but the source of all this comes from a bedroom on the second floor of the villa.

At this time, the bedroom was already filled with gentlemen in neat suits. Their eyes were all focused on the old man lying on the bed with a white quilt covering his waist. He was the former King of Orleans, Louis Philippe.

Louis Philippe closed his eyes as if he was asleep, and next to him was an old woman with gray hair. She was Louis Philippe's wife, the former queen of the Kingdom of Orleans.

At this time, she was looking at Louis-Philippe with tears in her eyes. According to the diagnosis made by the royal doctor last night, Louis-Philippe would probably not survive this noon.

Today can be said to be Louis Philippe's last day.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! They are all here, Count Morlay, M. Guizot, Odilon Barro, they are all here! Open your eyes! Your Majesty!" The old woman softly called Louis Philippe's name, She hoped to awaken Louis Philippe with his familiar name.

The terminally ill Louis Philippe seemed to hear the Queen's cry. His consciousness fell into chaos and he desperately tried to open his eyes. A light seemed to appear in Louis Philippe's consciousness. Louis Philippe moved in the direction guided by the "light". When the "road" came to the end, a hazy voice reached Louis Philippe's ears, "My son, you still have some things to explain, so go back first!"

This voice is so familiar, but yet so strange.

Louis Philippe couldn't remember whose voice it was for a moment, so he followed its guidance...

I want to go back!

Louis-Philippe's lips moved slightly, and the old woman who had been crying exclaimed: "Your Majesty, are you awake? Are you okay!"

Louis Philippe opened his eyes again and observed everyone present with his cloudy eyes.

Then the corners of Louis Philippe's mouth continued to squirm. From his expression, Louis Philippe seemed to have exhausted all the history. The queen lay in Louis Philippe's ear: "Let the Earl of Paris come over! "

The queen hurriedly called on everyone to make way for the Earl of Paris and looked for the bookstore www.zhaoshuyuan.com. At this time, the Earl of Paris, who was only twelve years old, looked at his grandfather lying on the bed with tears in his eyes.

Louis Philippe stretched out his hand to touch the Count of Paris' head, but found that he had no strength to do so.

The queen quickly put the hand of the Count of Paris into Louis-Philippe's. Louis-Philippe showed a happy smile and said intermittently with all his strength: "I... did not... give you a complete throne... I hope to use me Death...to allow you to regain the throne!"

Then, Louis Philippe sat up as if he had used all his strength, and his pale face returned to its normal state. Everyone present knew that this was just a flashback, and they listened attentively to Louis Philippe's last words.

"Mr. Morlay, M. Barrow, please take me to tell Count Chambord that I feel very guilty for the act of usurping the throne."

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