8 o'clock in the morning on April 22, 1848.
A clipper ship loaded with cargo and passengers departed from Calais, crossed the Rushment Channel, broke through the white fog that diffused on the sea level, and arrived in the waters near London Dockyard in the early morning.
Pier lookout tower.
The signalman responsible for reporting the entry of ships into the port not only sends the signal to the moving ships to allow entry, but also reports the news of the ships entering the port to the people below the observation deck. The London Dockyard, which had been silent all night, now welcomes its first order of the day. Business.
"You pigs and trash! If you don't want to be fired right away, hurry up and do something!"
At the dock on the shore, dock workers in shabby and dusty clothes, under the shouts and curses of the rough dock administrator, gathered their tired bodies after just transporting and sorting the goods, but did not have time to rest for a moment, and boarded the small boat prepared at the dock.
Although their faces were already full of numbness, their bodies still moved involuntarily.
It was not easy to find a job in the 19th century, let alone today. If something goes wrong even slightly, what awaits them is unreasonable layoffs.
Redundancy means slow death for a dockworker, who has seen many bodies floating down the Thames in the days since the economic crisis.
Roommates who were laughing and laughing together one day may become homeless the next day because they are unemployed and unable to pay the rent.
Not to mention them, even those gentlemen who usually wear beautiful clothes may face the risk of unemployment or even death at any time.
In the past few days, they have seen countless corpses floating in the Thames, wearing black jackets with their heads facing the water and their backs turned to the sky.
Listening to them, these people are usually opportunistic guys.
Not being fired has become the purest wish in the heart of every dock worker.
…
Under the guidance of the observation deck, the small boats docked on both sides of the London dock slowly sailed into the narrow distributary river. Under the watchful eyes of workers waiting to unload the cargo on the small boats, the large ship entered the port smoothly, the anchor was slowly lowered, and the bow girder was detached. The stay rope, main sail and secondary sail were furled one after another, and the ship continued to sail for a certain distance with the help of the remaining power, until the thick iron anchor completely sank into the water.
Several small boats gradually approached the cargo ship and the sailboat, and the wooden inclined ladder dropped from the sailboat to the small boat.
Passengers on the plywood slide from the ramp to the boat under the command of the sailor, and then take the boat ashore.
One by one the passengers left the ship and boarded the dinghy until the last young man arrived.
At this time, he was smiling and shaking hands with the sailors surrounding him.
The sailors were extremely excited when they were held by the young people, and kept chanting words such as "Long live the Emperor" and "Long live the Empire".
"Cough...cough..."
A short cough came from behind the sailor. Almost all the sailors knew that the owner of the sound was the captain of the ship. Then the rough voice of the first mate came: "How long are you going to surround the guests?" !Have you all forgotten your responsibilities? Go to work quickly!"
The sailors who originally surrounded the young man scattered after hearing Dafu's rough voice, and many sailors had expressions of regret on their faces.
The captain and first mate came to the young man's face and said respectfully, "I'm very sorry for what happened just now! Your Highness the Prince!"
The young man called the prince by the captain looked to be only twenty-three or fourteen years old. He had a slender figure. His flowing golden hair swayed in the sea breeze, and his black pupils and angular face looked very much like that person.
"Sir!" The young man smiled and stretched out his hand, and said sincerely: "The empire has ceased to exist for many years, and I am no longer a prince! I prefer you to call me Napoleon Jerome than the title of prince. .Bonaparte【1】!”
"Your Highness..." The captain held little Jerome's hand like a child seeing a new toy and said: "Oh no! Forgive me for calling you Jerome. My father was originally a member of the Imperial Guard. I grew up listening to the emperor’s stories since I was a child..."
The captain told little Jerome about how his father became a member of the emperor's army, experienced Leipzig with the emperor, and was forced to retire after the battle 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 that turned on the faucet, talking about how his family was the emperor. The history of conquest.
Jerome listened quietly to the captain's words, nodding from time to time.
The captain's eloquent words continued for nearly half an hour, until the first mate standing aside gently touched his body with his elbow.
The captain reacted and quickly apologized to Jérôme.
Jerome nodded and said: "Thank you for everything you have done for the empire. The Bonaparte family will not forget his supporters!"
After saying that, Jérôme took out his pocket watch from his jacket pocket. It was already a quarter past nine.
There is less than 2 hours left before the meeting.
"I'm sorry! Please allow me to excuse you. I'm going to meet my cousin! Breaking an appointment rashly is not what a gentleman should do!" Jerome said with a hint of apology in his tone.
"No... no... I was rude!" the captain also apologized.
Under the watch of the captain, first mate and all the crew, Jérôme Bonaparte left the sailboat and jumped into the small boat leading to the London dock.
Little Jérôme, who was sitting in the stern of the boat, looked at the countless small 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 through time, and there is still a vague barrier between him and this world.
Everything in front of me seems to be so illusory, but it actually exists.
The water of the Thames is many times dirtier than it was in the 21st century, and there is an unspeakable pungent smell in the air.
Those who advocate fresh air should really come here to see the pure fresh air of Angsa in the 19th century.
Little Jerome complained silently in his heart.
As the boat continued to move forward, the pungent smell became stronger and stronger.
Sitting on the boat and looking far into the distance, you can see rows of tall "chimneys" emitting white smoke in the distance.
This kind of smoke is sulfur dioxide after coal combustion. If it were the 21st century, emissions like this would only attract the attention of environmental workers, and rectification and shutdown would be just around the corner.
In the 19th century, this was a symbol of a powerful empire.
The giant beast called industry is spreading its ferocious fangs in an attempt to devour the entire world.
Notes: 1. Napoleon Jerome Bonaparte (September 9, 1822 - March 17, 1891), the son of Jerome Bonaparte and the nephew of Napoleon.
