chapter 499: Doing Business with the British While Making Sure They Have No Business Left
It was obvious that the British had seen the sensation caused by the installation of gas street lamps in Paris. In just four or five months, they had quickly secured an investment of over 7 million to replicate the same project in London.
This also showed how wealthy the British were. With such a head start, they were probably already planning to restore the glory of the Eastern Roman Empire.
Suddenly, Joseph thought of something and turned to DuPont: "Have the British already mastered gas distillation technology?"
"Well…" DuPont recalled, "I don't think I've heard them mention any such technology."
Joseph frowned. "Then they're investing in gas street lamps?"
Murdoch, standing nearby, shrugged disdainfully and said, "Your Highness, the shamelessness of the British in stealing technology is well known."
He gestured behind him. "I'd bet there are British industrial spies in the distillation plant right now. If they have enough funding, they could copy a gas distillation plant by next summer."
He spoke fluent French, repeatedly calling them "the British," fully embracing his new identity as a Frenchman. After all, his assets and career were now in France, and he had recently been knighted at Versailles, marking a complete break with Britain.
Joseph frowned again.
He knew that both France and Britain had sent large numbers of industrial spies to each other's countries—whenever one side developed something new, the other quickly copied it. Even in the case of critical technologies like the spinning jenny, France had cloned it in just three to five years. However, due to issues with the business environment and raw materials, France had never been able to outcompete Britain.
Furthermore, Britain had a strong research and development capability, being the leader of this era. Murdoch himself had been trained by them. So, if the British were determined to work on it, even without stealing the technology, they could likely develop it on their own within a year.
Joseph felt quite irritated. He had invested so much effort and money into gas street lamps, and Paris had yet to attract much talent or investment, yet London was already jumping in to compete!
And they were investing 7.5 million in one go.
Damn it! Just because you British have money, does that make you superior?
No way! Joseph clenched his fist. He couldn't let the British have an easy time with this gas lamp project.
But how could he stop them?
Catching industrial spies would be difficult. Should he assassinate the British engineers working on copying the gas distillation process...?
He quickly dismissed this idea. Resorting to dirty tactics was always the worst option, and the British would easily figure out that France was behind it, possibly leading to diplomatic disputes.
But soon, a mischievous smile appeared on his face. Couldn't he apply the same tactics that American arms companies used in the future?
The standard procedure would be to bid low, win the government contract, and crush the competition, using monopolistic power to then raise prices.
Of course, his goal wasn't to raise prices but to destroy the British competitors and then pull out.
With that in mind, Joseph pulled DuPont aside and asked, "Since you've been able to find out about the British investment in gas street lamps, you must have some connections there, right?"
DuPont tensed up immediately, waving his hands, "Your Highness, I heard about it from business partners. I have no connection to the British government!"
Joseph smiled and patted him on the back. "I trust you. But if I wanted to take on the gas lamp project in London, could you find someone to help me make the right connections?"
DuPont's eyes widened in shock. After a long pause, he finally said, "Your Highness, are you planning to sell gas lamp technology to the British?"
"In part, yes," Joseph nodded. "But given the special diplomatic relationship between Britain and France, you know they might be resistant to French companies.
"So, I need you to help me set up a company in Britain or directly acquire one, inject some capital, and then take on the London gas lamp project."
"This, I can help with, Your Highness. But I can't guarantee we'd secure a construction contract with the London city council."
Joseph smiled. "Do you think 300,000 francs would be enough to persuade the mayor of London and the project leaders?"
DuPont was once again startled. Clearly, the Prince was well-versed in the ways of business and wasn't hesitant about making bold moves.
After thinking it over, DuPont hesitated and said, "Your Highness, this might also involve the British Parliament, given the size of the investment…"
"Then add another 300,000 francs to win over the relevant members of Parliament," Joseph said without hesitation. "And I'll give you 100,000 francs as a commission for your hard work."
DuPont finally stopped refusing. A 600,000-franc bribe should provide a reasonable chance of success.
He nodded and said, "Your Highness, I'll do my best. As for the commission, it's an honor to serve you, so I really don't need it."
Joseph, showing his firm stance, said, "Don't argue. I'll have someone bring you the 700,000 francs soon."
"Please go and fetch Director Fouché," he instructed Aymond. Then, turning back to DuPont, he said, "We need to discuss the details of this deal further."
…
On the Indian subcontinent, outside the administrative center of Mysore, Seringapatam, the Marquis of Wellesley gazed grimly at the distant Mysore fortifications. He turned to his aide and asked, "Where are my heavy cannons now?"
"General, the continuous rains in South Canara have turned the ground into mud. The 12-pound cannons can only move a few thousand feet a day. It may take another month to bring them here."
Since arriving in India, Wellesley had been sweeping through the region, using the "pile of corpses" tactic to break through Mysore's fortress system in South Canara, pushing the front line to Seringapatam. This had earned him a promotion to brigadier general. But now his army had run into trouble before this city. Tipu Sultan was constantly avoiding a direct battle, harassing Wellesley's forces and dragging the conflict into the rainy season.
"A month…" Wellesley scratched his shoulder, which was itchy from mosquito bites the size of mung beans. "I wonder if Cornwallis's supplies will hold out for another two months."
Yes, only once the heavy cannons arrived could they suppress the fortifications of Seringapatam. Even then, it would take another month to capture the city.
In the meantime, his army would continue to be tormented by mosquitoes, malaria, dysentery, and constant raids from the Mysore forces. He was starting to doubt whether the morale of his troops would collapse before they ran out of supplies.
Since the rainy season had begun, his and Cornwallis's supply lines had almost completely broken down—ships loaded with supplies were stuck at the port of North Canara, unable to bring them in. Meanwhile, the Mysore forces seemed well-prepared, with plenty of ammunition and food in the city, a sharp contrast to their previous behavior.
(End of Chapter)
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