Chapter 3: Louis Napoleon critically ill
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"Persili, tell me what happened? Cousin, what happened to him!"
Pessili's expression caused little Jerome's originally calm heart to waver, and his smiling face gradually turned into a dignified expression. His drooping hands unknowingly caressed his brown-yellow cowhide trousers, and he kept thinking about his past life in his mind. data of".
Forgot to mention, the little Jerome in the previous life was a senior European history lover. He was proficient in the history after the Great Revolution. data, and then forced to cross.
For four months, little Jerome did not dare to do anything out of the ordinary. He was afraid that this little butterfly would flap his wings and blow his cousin's throne away, which would be laughable.
As long as the cousin becomes the emperor of the empire, he can become a real prince by himself.
As for the loss of the throne in the future Franco-Prussian War? Little Jerome wouldn't let it happen at all.
"No, my cousin shouldn't be in trouble at this time!"
Little Jerome "clearly" "remembers" his previous life data, his cousin returned to Paris in April, was then kicked out of the country, and returned to Paris again in July to run for the presidency.
The historical line of Louis Bonaparte had a smooth journey to the presidency.
Unexpectedly, to be on guard against my own butterfly wings, I still fanned from Paris to London.
"Your Majesty, he..." Pesili lowered his head and sighed, hesitatingly said, "He has cholera, I'm afraid..."
The word "cholera" hit Jerome's heart like two heavy hammers, and an indescribable emptiness poured into Jerome's heart, followed by a brief heart palpitation.
This feeling comes from the soul acting on Jerome's body, causing his body to lean back slightly, his knees seem to be pulled out of strength, and he falls to the ground.
Fortunately, Fleury quickly supported Jerome, so Jerome would not lose face.
Jerome, who was supported by Fleury, roared word by word: "Mr. Persili! You promised me to take care of him dutifully, what the **** is going on! Why did he get infected with my cousin? Cholera!"
In the 19th century, when there were no antibiotics, no penicillin, and even medicine was transformed from disorganized to systematic, the most common and deadly thing was "cholera". If you have cholera, you have to shed a layer of skin even if you don't die.
Feeling Jerome's anger, Pessili responded cautiously: "Your Majesty, he may have contracted it when Britain was acting as a vigilante! Some time ago, Britain was prevalent in that strange disease!" [Note 1]
"Vigilante? A head of the Bonaparte family, a prince to become a vigilante?" Jerome pointed at Pessili with an angry smile and scolded: "What the **** are you doing! Aunt Audense, father, sister and others The entire Bonaparte family entrusted you with the "leader" of the Bonaparte family, and you didn't do anything! If you hadn't instigated your cousin, he wouldn't have gone down this road..."
The resentment hidden in the depths of the soul was vented through Jerome's mouth, and Pessili could only submissively express that he had not fulfilled his role as a servant.
After some **** abuse, Jerome asked again, "Where is my cousin now?"
"King St. James Street, take care of Miss Howard!" Pessili, who was sullen after being reprimanded by Jerome, quickly responded.
"Why don't you put..."
Jerome, who wanted to reprimand Pessili for not sending his cousin to the hospital, suddenly remembered.
In the 19th century, when medical facilities were not perfect, public hospitals and even some private hospitals were not as good as at home. Most doctors in public hospitals were part-time doctors. Earthworkers earn tips.
The operating table full of flies, the gauze stained with oil, and the unsterilized scalpel, each of which seems to be a challenge from God to 19th-century gentlemen.
Compared with dirty hospitals, staying at home is a good choice.
Of course, these situations are only for the rich, and the workers without money can only enjoy the treatment of the crappy doctors from the street charity hospital.
Jerome Bonaparte shouted to Pessili and Fleury: "Let's go!"
Under the guidance of Fleury, Jerome Bonaparte came to a dark black carriage with a striking Bonaparte logo printed on the side box of the carriage.
Obviously, this carriage is not a temporary lease, but is used by my cousin for daily communication.
It costs about 2,400 francs to get a good carriage, and about 4,000 francs a year after adding fodder and other miscellaneous items.
Jerome decided that his cousin might have used new debts to pay off old debts and used his father's estate as collateral.
Jerome opened the car door and got into the carriage of the carriage. Pessili followed closely. Fleury sat in the driver's seat of the carriage, restraining the horse's head with one hand and waving the whip with the other.
"Sit tight!" The carriage began to move under Fleury's skillful technique.
…
Jerome on the carriage closed his eyes and thought about the next road.
Pessili, who was sitting opposite Jerome, looked around anxiously and glanced at Jerome from time to time.
The carriage rushed left and right under Fleury's driving, and soon left the slums of East London, crossed Waterloo Bridge and continued to move forward, the dividing line of "two worlds" Shafbury Street / St. Martin's Church close at hand.
Behind the carriage was a low, dilapidated three-story building, while in front of the carriage was a row of small apartments.
Looking to the left in the direction of St. Martin's Church, you can even see the towering spire of Buckingham Palace.
A church and an iron bridge separate poverty from wealth.
After entering Schaffberg Street, the surrounding police force increased significantly. Every ten meters on the street, vigilantes in tattered uniforms and holding revolvers could be seen patrolling.
Even the shops became clean and tidy, and the hustle and bustle of the slums also disappeared.
The well-dressed gentlemen also nodded to each other.
In order to prevent a collision, Fleury slowed down his horse and walked through the streets of Shafburitz, and stopped at a small mansion at the end of King St. James Street.
"Your Highness, here we are!" Pessili's voice reached Jerome's ear.
Jerome slowly opened his eyes.
PS: 1. After escaping from Strasbourg to London, Louis Bonaparte voluntarily served as a vigilante in the London area with his own dry food, and suppressed the workers' charter movement brewing in Britain in April.
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"Persili, tell me what happened? Cousin, what happened to him!"
Pessili's expression caused little Jerome's originally calm heart to waver, and his smiling face gradually turned into a dignified expression. His drooping hands unknowingly caressed his brown-yellow cowhide trousers, and he kept thinking about his past life in his mind. data of".
Forgot to mention, the little Jerome in the previous life was a senior European history lover. He was proficient in the history after the Great Revolution. data, and then forced to cross.
For four months, little Jerome did not dare to do anything out of the ordinary. He was afraid that this little butterfly would flap his wings and blow his cousin's throne away, which would be laughable.
As long as the cousin becomes the emperor of the empire, he can become a real prince by himself.
As for the loss of the throne in the future Franco-Prussian War? Little Jerome wouldn't let it happen at all.
"No, my cousin shouldn't be in trouble at this time!"
Little Jerome "clearly" "remembers" his previous life data, his cousin returned to Paris in April, was then kicked out of the country, and returned to Paris again in July to run for the presidency.
The historical line of Louis Bonaparte had a smooth journey to the presidency.
Unexpectedly, to be on guard against my own butterfly wings, I still fanned from Paris to London.
"Your Majesty, he..." Pesili lowered his head and sighed, hesitatingly said, "He has cholera, I'm afraid..."
The word "cholera" hit Jerome's heart like two heavy hammers, and an indescribable emptiness poured into Jerome's heart, followed by a brief heart palpitation.
This feeling comes from the soul acting on Jerome's body, causing his body to lean back slightly, his knees seem to be pulled out of strength, and he falls to the ground.
Fortunately, Fleury quickly supported Jerome, so Jerome would not lose face.
Jerome, who was supported by Fleury, roared word by word: "Mr. Persili! You promised me to take care of him dutifully, what the **** is going on! Why did he get infected with my cousin? Cholera!"
In the 19th century, when there were no antibiotics, no penicillin, and even medicine was transformed from disorganized to systematic, the most common and deadly thing was "cholera". If you have cholera, you have to shed a layer of skin even if you don't die.
Feeling Jerome's anger, Pessili responded cautiously: "Your Majesty, he may have contracted it when Britain was acting as a vigilante! Some time ago, Britain was prevalent in that strange disease!" [Note 1]
"Vigilante? A head of the Bonaparte family, a prince to become a vigilante?" Jerome pointed at Pessili with an angry smile and scolded: "What the **** are you doing! Aunt Audense, father, sister and others The entire Bonaparte family entrusted you with the "leader" of the Bonaparte family, and you didn't do anything! If you hadn't instigated your cousin, he wouldn't have gone down this road..."
The resentment hidden in the depths of the soul was vented through Jerome's mouth, and Pessili could only submissively express that he had not fulfilled his role as a servant.
After some **** abuse, Jerome asked again, "Where is my cousin now?"
"King St. James Street, take care of Miss Howard!" Pessili, who was sullen after being reprimanded by Jerome, quickly responded.
"Why don't you put..."
Jerome, who wanted to reprimand Pessili for not sending his cousin to the hospital, suddenly remembered.
In the 19th century, when medical facilities were not perfect, public hospitals and even some private hospitals were not as good as at home. Most doctors in public hospitals were part-time doctors. Earthworkers earn tips.
The operating table full of flies, the gauze stained with oil, and the unsterilized scalpel, each of which seems to be a challenge from God to 19th-century gentlemen.
Compared with dirty hospitals, staying at home is a good choice.
Of course, these situations are only for the rich, and the workers without money can only enjoy the treatment of the crappy doctors from the street charity hospital.
Jerome Bonaparte shouted to Pessili and Fleury: "Let's go!"
Under the guidance of Fleury, Jerome Bonaparte came to a dark black carriage with a striking Bonaparte logo printed on the side box of the carriage.
Obviously, this carriage is not a temporary lease, but is used by my cousin for daily communication.
It costs about 2,400 francs to get a good carriage, and about 4,000 francs a year after adding fodder and other miscellaneous items.
Jerome decided that his cousin might have used new debts to pay off old debts and used his father's estate as collateral.
Jerome opened the car door and got into the carriage of the carriage. Pessili followed closely. Fleury sat in the driver's seat of the carriage, restraining the horse's head with one hand and waving the whip with the other.
"Sit tight!" The carriage began to move under Fleury's skillful technique.
…
Jerome on the carriage closed his eyes and thought about the next road.
Pessili, who was sitting opposite Jerome, looked around anxiously and glanced at Jerome from time to time.
The carriage rushed left and right under Fleury's driving, and soon left the slums of East London, crossed Waterloo Bridge and continued to move forward, the dividing line of "two worlds" Shafbury Street / St. Martin's Church close at hand.
Behind the carriage was a low, dilapidated three-story building, while in front of the carriage was a row of small apartments.
Looking to the left in the direction of St. Martin's Church, you can even see the towering spire of Buckingham Palace.
A church and an iron bridge separate poverty from wealth.
After entering Schaffberg Street, the surrounding police force increased significantly. Every ten meters on the street, vigilantes in tattered uniforms and holding revolvers could be seen patrolling.
Even the shops became clean and tidy, and the hustle and bustle of the slums also disappeared.
The well-dressed gentlemen also nodded to each other.
In order to prevent a collision, Fleury slowed down his horse and walked through the streets of Shafburitz, and stopped at a small mansion at the end of King St. James Street.
"Your Highness, here we are!" Pessili's voice reached Jerome's ear.
Jerome slowly opened his eyes.
PS: 1. After escaping from Strasbourg to London, Louis Bonaparte voluntarily served as a vigilante in the London area with his own dry food, and suppressed the workers' charter movement brewing in Britain in April.
"Persili, tell me what happened? Cousin, what happened to him!"Pessili's expression caused little Jerome's originally calm heart to waver, and his smiling face gradually turned into a dignified expression. His drooping hands unknowingly caressed his brown-yellow cowhide trousers, and he kept thinking about his past life in his mind. data of".Forgot to mention, the little Jerome in the previous life was a senior European history lover. He was proficient in the history after the Great Revolution. data, and then forced to cross.For four months, little Jerome did not dare to do anything out of the ordinary. He was afraid that this little butterfly would flap his wings and blow his cousin's throne away, which would be laughable.As long as the cousin becomes the emperor of the empire, he can become a real prince by himself.As for the loss of the throne in the future Franco-Prussian War? Little Jerome wouldn't let it happen at all."No, my cousin shouldn't be in trouble at this time!"Little Jerome "clearly" "remembers" his previous life data, his cousin returned to Paris in April, was then kicked out of the country, and returned to Paris again in July to run for the presidency.The historical line of Louis Bonaparte had a smooth journey to the presidency.Unexpectedly, to be on guard against my own butterfly wings, I still fanned from Paris to London."Your Majesty, he..." Pesili lowered his head and sighed, hesitatingly said, "He has cholera, I'm afraid..."The word "cholera" hit Jerome's heart like two heavy hammers, and an indescribable emptiness poured into Jerome's heart, followed by a brief heart palpitation.This feeling comes from the soul acting on Jerome's body, causing his body to lean back slightly, his knees seem to be pulled out of strength, and he falls to the ground.Fortunately, Fleury quickly supported Jerome, so Jerome would not lose face.Jerome, who was supported by Fleury, roared word by word: "Mr. Persili! You promised me to take care of him dutifully, what the **** is going on! Why did he get infected with my cousin? Cholera!"In the 19th century, when there were no antibiotics, no penicillin, and even medicine was transformed from disorganized to systematic, the most common and deadly thing was "cholera". If you have cholera, you have to shed a layer of skin even if you don't die.Feeling Jerome's anger, Pessili responded cautiously: "Your Majesty, he may have contracted it when Britain was acting as a vigilante! Some time ago, Britain was prevalent in that strange disease!" Note 1"Vigilante? A head of the Bonaparte family, a prince to become a vigilante?" Jerome pointed at Pessili with an angry smile and scolded: "What the **** are you doing! Aunt Audense, father, sister and others The entire Bonaparte family entrusted you with the "leader" of the Bonaparte family, and you didn't do anything! If you hadn't instigated your cousin, he wouldn't have gone down this road..."The resentment hidden in the depths of the soul was vented through Jerome's mouth, and Pessili could only submissively express that he had not fulfilled his role as a servant.After some **** abuse, Jerome asked again, "Where is my cousin now?""King St. James Street, take care of Miss Howard!" Pessili, who was sullen after being reprimanded by Jerome, quickly responded."Why don't you put..."Jerome, who wanted to reprimand Pessili for not sending his cousin to the hospital, suddenly remembered.In the 19th century, when medical facilities were not perfect, public hospitals and even some private hospitals were not as good as at home. Most doctors in public hospitals were part-time doctors. Earthworkers earn tips.The operating table full of flies, the gauze stained with oil, and the unsterilized scalpel, each of which seems to be a challenge from God to 19th-century gentlemen.Compared with dirty hospitals, staying at home is a good choice.Of course, these situations are only for the rich, and the workers without money can only enjoy the treatment of the crappy doctors from the street charity hospital.Jerome Bonaparte shouted to Pessili and Fleury: "Let's go!"Under the guidance of Fleury, Jerome Bonaparte came to a dark black carriage with a striking Bonaparte logo printed on the side box of the carriage.Obviously, this carriage is not a temporary lease, but is used by my cousin for daily communication.It costs about 2,400 francs to get a good carriage, and about 4,000 francs a year after adding fodder and other miscellaneous items.Jerome decided that his cousin might have used new debts to pay off old debts and used his father's estate as collateral.Jerome opened the car door and got into the carriage of the carriage. Pessili followed closely. Fleury sat in the driver's seat of the carriage, restraining the horse's head with one hand and waving the whip with the other."Sit tight!" The carriage began to move under Fleury's skillful technique.Jerome on the carriage closed his eyes and thought about the next road.Pessili, who was sitting opposite Jerome, looked around anxiously and glanced at Jerome from time to time.The carriage rushed left and right under Fleury's driving, and soon left the slums of East London, crossed Waterloo Bridge and continued to move forward, the dividing line of "two worlds" Shafbury Street / St. Martin's Church close at hand.Behind the carriage was a low, dilapidated three-story building, while in front of the carriage was a row of small apartments.Looking to the left in the direction of St. Martin's Church, you can even see the towering spire of Buckingham Palace.A church and an iron bridge separate poverty from wealth.After entering Schaffberg Street, the surrounding police force increased significantly. Every ten meters on the street, vigilantes in tattered uniforms and holding revolvers could be seen patrolling.Even the shops became clean and tidy, and the hustle and bustle of the slums also disappeared.The well-dressed gentlemen also nodded to each other.In order to prevent a collision, Fleury slowed down his horse and walked through the streets of Shafburitz, and stopped at a small mansion at the end of King St. James Street."Your Highness, here we are!" Pessili's voice reached Jerome's ear.Jerome slowly opened his eyes.PS: 1. After escaping from Strasbourg to London, Louis Bonaparte voluntarily served as a vigilante in the London area with his own dry food, and suppressed the workers' charter movement brewing in Britain in April.
