From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

at the same time

On the top floor of the Bank of Commerce de France, in Mr. Montmartre's private office.

This big banker, who was famous in the Paris financial world and was known to everyone, rarely showed a very nervous look on his face at this time.

He was dressed in fine clothes and stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling silver mirror with gold-edged patterns. He was still adjusting the tightness of the wig on his head, and at the same time he was restlessly asking his assistant:

"Is my striped scarf a little too fancy? And these boots, maybe I should change to a pair of high heels? Nobles like to wear them like that."

The assistant looked a little undecided, so he had to deal with it while helping Mr. Montmartre tidy up his clothes:

"Well, maybe you can try it? I think those in the palace would like a more conservative style."

"That makes sense, hurry up and get me a plain scarf, as well as high heels!" Mr. Montmartre anxiously pulled off the scarf he had just tied on his chest and ordered loudly.

The assistant rummaged in the closet for a while and said with an embarrassed look: "Sir, it seems that there are no plain scarves in your office, nor high heels."

"You idiot! Then go buy it quickly!" Mr. Montmartre scolded impatiently.

"Yes, yes, yes." The assistant lowered his head and was about to go out when he suddenly remembered something:

"By the way, sir, what's your shoe size?"

"How would I know! Buy me all the sizes, there is no time to waste!"

After a while of struggling, Mr. Montmartre finally put on an outfit that satisfied him:

A wig sprinkled with silver powder, a beaver fur cape, a brown flannel coat, leather trousers that are just down to the knees, paired with the popular white stockings, and a pair of thick-soled high heels worn by nobles. Cavalry boots.

As long as Mr. Montmartre can remain serious and stand where he is, anyone who looks at him will think that he is a majestic count.

Of course, as soon as he opens his mouth, his flattering smile and shrewd profit-seeking eyes will reveal that he is actually just a wealthy upstart banker.

And there is only one reason why he spent a lot of energy dressing up like this today:

"It's true that His Excellency Bonaparte informed me so hastily that he was going to have lunch with His Royal Highness the Crown Prince at the palace, so that I didn't even have time to go home and change my clothes."

Despite what he said, there was no trace of blame in Mr. Montmartre's words. Instead, he was full of gratitude and pride.

Just this morning, when it was still dark, a servant from No. 10, Champs-Elysées, came to the Bank of Commerce and told Mr. Montmartre that he would be invited to have lunch with His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. .

At the same time, the servant also revealed to Mr. Montmartre that this lunch would be a great opportunity for him to squeeze into the aristocratic circle.

This made Mr. Montmartre happy all morning. He was not so excited even when he received a loan with an interest rate of 12%.

For the top bourgeoisie like him, wealth is no longer the only direction they pursue. Even if their assets are several million or tens of millions more, it will not have any impact on their lives and social status. What a big change.

Therefore, those top bankers, big businessmen, and industrial owners will strive to integrate into the second class, hoping to be accepted by the real upper class society.

This is not only for a higher status, but also to exert more influence on national politics. Otherwise, no matter how rich the bourgeoisie is, their political power is weak and they will be just like a wealthy family in front of the aristocracy. Just the lamb.

The government or the royal family only needs to issue a decree to determine the rise and fall of a large number of capitalists.

Of course, the bourgeoisie is not weak and has no power to fight back. If the ruling class wants to plunder the wealth of the bourgeoisie forcefully, it will inevitably lead to turmoil.

Therefore, the royal family and the government also came up with other milder ways to harvest the wealth of these fat sheep.

The most typical of these is the sale of official titles. It only costs two million livres to be qualified to participate in large-scale royal meetings and automatically obtain the title of minister of state. As for some low-level honorary titles without fiefs, although the royal family does not have The price is clearly marked, but you can still buy it with a little care.

This behavior of selling officials and titles began to appear in the Louis XIV period. Until the Louis XVI period, due to the financial constraints of the royal family, a considerable number of honorary titles were sold.

According to statistics, on the eve of the Great Revolution, 95% of the nobility, of course, most of them were minor nobility. Their titles were not inherited hereditary, but were titles bought by the middle class.

But for Mr. Montmartre, what he wants is certainly not this kind of special treatment in reputation.

Those false names and titles will only make others change the title from Mr. to Your Excellency when addressing him, or they will make him qualified to enter certain banquets and be a marginal figure. They will not be of any substantial help at all.

What he really wants is an opportunity to completely integrate into the aristocratic circle and be fully accepted by the upper class society.

And this is not easy. As a banker without purple blood, he does not even have a basic admission ticket. He cannot let Mr. Montmartre give up business and join the army and use military merit to advance to the nobility; as for Lawrence, using a country to do that It was even less possible to enter the Palace of Versailles as a ruler.

Only today, when he heard the news from His Excellency Bonaparte, did Mr. Montmartre suddenly feel that the dark clouds in the sky finally cast a shining golden light.

"Oh my God, it's already this hour, hurry up! Get my carriage ready and set off for the Tuileries Palace now!"

The king's palace in Paris, in a side hall of the Tuileries Palace.

Lawrence and Prince Louis were already seated at a small round dining table. Only three sets of silverware were placed on the round table. Compared with the banquet in the Palace of Versailles, the dishes on the table could only be regarded as clear soup and watery.

After all, Prince Louis and Mr. Montmartre were invited to have lunch temporarily, and Lawrence had no extra time to prepare.

"Oh my God, these people have it so hard."

While waiting for Mr. Montmartre, Crown Prince Louis was reading today's Observer Daily with his brows furrowed and sighing with compassion from time to time.

Today's front page report of the Observer daily is a description of the current situation in the slums in the southeastern part of Paris. The newspaper describes in detail how a family of six is ​​struggling on the edge of survival relying on the labor of the male head.

The editor of the newspaper also specially included several carefully drawn illustrations, vividly depicting the dilapidated appearance of the drafty shack where the family lived, as well as the miserable condition of the three children's bodies, which were as skinny as mummies.

The young Crown Prince was originally a kind-hearted and ambitious successor to the kingdom. When he read articles about the living conditions of the poor from newspapers over and over again these days, His Highness the Crown Prince, who had lived in the palace for a long time and had never set foot in the slums, felt deeply in his heart. It was inevitable that there would be some waves.

Lawrence leaned over and took a look at the contents of the newspaper, sighed and echoed:

"Yes, Your Highness, it is indeed difficult, and this is not an isolated case. Such misery and pain are already commonplace among those people."

"Oh my God, this is just in Paris. Under our feet, how many such tragedies will there be in the whole of France?"

Prince Louis bit his lip lightly and couldn't bear to read the newspaper in his hand. He sighed again, folded it and put it aside, and said:

"Can't we do something? Lawrence."

"It's a bit difficult, Your Highness." Lawrence waved his hand helplessly and explained:

"His Majesty the King would provide subsidies to those in need of relief in previous years, which would give them a big sigh of relief. But this year, you may have heard that the money has already flowed into Madame Du Barry's purse. ”

Listening to Lawrence's explanation, the usually meek and respectful Crown Prince Louis suddenly slapped the table. This royal majesty immediately startled several waiters around him. The Crown Prince gritted his teeth and said:

"This woman is causing harm to the entire Kingdom of France!"

Both Crown Prince Louis and his wife, Crown Princess Marie, hated Madame du Barry so much, which is why after the crown prince succeeded to the throne, he immediately exiled Madame du Barry to a convent at the advice of the queen.

Lawrence looked at the indignant look of Prince Louis, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he comforted softly:

"Please calm down, Your Highness, things are not without improvement."

"Oh?" The crown prince quickly looked at Lawrence expectantly. He knew that his good friend could always live up to his expectations and trust.

"Mr. Montmartre, whom we are about to meet, and his banker friends are worth a lot of money." Lawrence pointed to the empty seat next to the round table and said with a smile:

"As long as they fund the rescue of Parisian citizens, everything will be fine."

"Montmartre." Prince Louis stared at the empty seat and frowned slightly:

"I don't like this guy very much. He's too flattering."

During the time when Lawrence left Paris, Crown Prince Louis, as the nominal royal financial director and the royal head of the Corsica National Silver Company, also had several contacts with Mr. Montmartre in order to learn business knowledge.

However, Crown Prince Louis, who comes from a royal family, does not seem to like bourgeois people like Mr. Montmartre. Their flattery and shrewdness disgust His Royal Highness the Crown Prince.

"Your Highness, national interests and personal emotions are two parallel and stable evaluation systems." Lawrence comforted with a smile:

"Sometimes, we have to get rid of those we like for profit, and we have to get close to those we hate for profit."

Prince Louis rolled his eyes and thought for a while, smiled and nodded:

"Then how should I treat you, who is in line with my interests and my emotions, my dear Lawrence?"

"It all depends on you, my highness." Lawrence smiled and said nothing more.

"Okay, okay, let's meet Mr. Montmartre."

After understanding that this was for the sake of thousands of lives and for the benefit of France, Crown Prince Louis was no longer so resistant, but he still asked nervously:

"But what should I tell him later? Just ask him to spend money to help the poor? I have never done such a thing before."

Lawrence shook his head, picked up the flower-shaped napkin and tied it around his neck, laughing softly:

"Your Highness, this kind of thing should be left to your humble and humble servant. All you need to do is to nod your noble head."

The nervous Crown Prince Louis suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and sighed:

"Ah, I don't know what I would do without you, Lawrence."

Although this made him look like a vase, Prince Louis quickly threw this strange idea out of his mind. After all, who wouldn't want to leave all these troublesome and troublesome things to a loyal and capable subordinate? Woolen cloth.

"It would be great if running the country could be as simple as this."

Prince Louis couldn't help but sigh in his heart.

The two waited for more than ten minutes before the palace attendant walked in and announced Mr. Montmartre's arrival.

"Your Highness! Your Excellency Bonaparte! I'm so sorry that I'm late. It's really because I'm so excited. The thought of seeing His Majesty's face again makes me almost unable to walk."

Before he even entered, Mr. Montmartre's tenor-like flattering voice came in.

Crown Prince Louis looked at Montmartre, who was dressed in fine clothes, and pointed helplessly to the empty seat next to the small round dining table, motioning for him to sit down.

"Thank you for the seat, Your Highness." Mr. Montmartre exclaimed flattered and deliberately slowed down to sit on the dining chair.

Although he had met Prince Louis several times before, His Excellency Bonaparte specifically said today that there would be an opportunity for him to join the aristocratic circle at this lunch, which had to make Mr. Montmartre excited. stand up.

"You came on time, Mr. Montmartre." Lawrence was not polite, and said while using a butter knife to spread sweet oil on the white bread:

"I heard that your bankers' time is very precious. One minute is worth thousands of livres. So I'm sorry to waste so much of your time. Let's just get down to business."

Mr. Montmartre quickly waved his hand and said with a smile: "Where are you, you are joking, hahaha, but what is the serious matter you are talking about...?"

While speaking, the astute Montmartre was also observing Lawrence and the Crown Prince.

The banker was very surprised to find that His Excellency Bonaparte seemed to be the leader at this table. On the contrary, the real leader, Crown Prince Louis, was silent and eating his meal like an ordinary diner. Front fruit.

Lawrence gently put down the butter knife and said in a deep voice:

"My lord, the benevolent Crown Prince, he is extremely worried about the living conditions of the poor people at the bottom of Paris, especially when subsidies cannot be paid this winter. His Highness wants to do what he can to those suffering people. matter."

Prince Louis on the side nodded in agreement.

"Ah, noble, so noble, Your Highness, your love for the people makes me moved and touched." Mr. Montmartre praised sincerely.

Lawrence chuckled, took a small bite of buttered bread, and said:

"So you must be very supportive of this noble cause?"

"Uh" Mr. Montmartre twitched the corner of his mouth and said with a smile:

"Hahahaha. Of course I support it, but my support is spiritual, influential, intangible, and cannot be judged by material things. It benefits all classes through social division of labor and wealth flow, uh, support."

Crown Prince Louis tensed his face to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

"You seem to have no unified definition of support. Mr. Montmartre, let me give you a definition."

Lawrence smiled and shook his head, then the smile gradually faded, and then he said in a deep voice:

"Six million livres in three days, that's support."