Chapter 124: Genius Inventor
William Murdoch? Joseph seemed to have heard the name, but couldn't recall it at the moment. He figured he must be a rather capable British technician.
Since he was willing to travel all the way to France, Joseph felt obliged to show his appreciation. "A most cordial welcome, Mr. Murdoch. I look forward to seeing you excel in France's steam engine project."
Joseph noted that Dupont had brought only Murdoch. He already surmised that things hadn't gone smoothly.
He invited them to sit, then looked at Dupont, a hint of anxiety in his gaze. "What did Mr. Watt say?"
A look of shame crossed Dupont's face. He spoke with some difficulty. "Your Highness, I apologize. I failed to carry out your important task. Mr. Watt declined my invitation."
Joseph had been mentally prepared, but still frowned upon hearing the news. "He wasn't satisfied with our terms?"
"No, Your Highness. In fact, he didn't care about the terms at all..."
Dupont briefly explained Watt's situation. Joseph couldn't help but sigh. "Mr. Dupont, you've done your best; there's no need to blame yourself. I'll find another solution."
Although Joseph appeared calm, a sense of worry had already begun to settle in his heart.
Joseph wasn't so arrogant as to believe he could develop the entire industry by himself. While he possessed many advanced principles of steam engine technology in his mind, turning them into functional machines was still a long way off. After all, he had never actually built one himself.
Not to mention the difficulty of implementing principles into real-world machines, even if he had blueprints for new steam engines, he couldn't build them.
From the selection of boiler materials to the specific casting process. From how to polish piston walls to the ratio of tolerance to leave. From the cross-sectional shape of the crank to the viscosity of the lubricant in the connecting parts...
Manufacturing a steam engine involved hundreds, if not thousands, of such detailed processes. If even one of them fell short, the resulting machine would either be plagued with constant issues or suffer from low power output.
If Joseph were to lead a team in technical research himself, they could certainly solve it in three to five years. But France couldn't afford to wait that long. Nor could he devote all his energy to developing steam engines.
Watt, on the other hand, possessed the technology and experience required to build steam engines in this era. He was familiar with every component of a steam engine, knew how to machine them, as well as what tools and raw materials were needed for their processing.
With him, France could quickly establish its foundational steam engine production line.
However, Watt seemed destined to not be involved with France. In that case, all technical processes would have to be slowly discovered by France's own technicians.
No one knew how long that process would take...
Joseph shook his head inwardly. As he pondered which French technicians were worth cultivating, he noticed Murdoch next to him cautiously shifting his seat forward and asking with some nervousness. "Um, Your Royal Highness, I heard Mr. Dupont mention that you intend to establish a factory for producing steam engines?"
"Indeed."
"I believe I might be able to help."
"Oh? Are you quite familiar with manufacturing steam engines?"
Murdoch puffed out his chest, a confident expression on his face. "Your Highness, if you believe Mr. Watt is capable, then I certainly am too."
"Let me put it this way: what he knows, I generally know. Furthermore, I hold my own patents."
Joseph scrutinized the middle-aged man before him with some surprise. "Is what you say true?"
Dupont quickly interjected from the side. "Your Highness, I've confirmed that Mr. Murdoch indeed holds patents in Britain for a Beam Engine and a Steam Gun."
It was precisely because Murdoch held these two patents that Dupont decided to bring him before the Crown Prince.
"Your Highness, perhaps you've heard of the steam engine's 'Planetary Crank and Gear Device'." Murdoch's tone clearly carried resentment. "In truth, I invented this technology. However, because I worked for Mr. Watt's company, the patent was assigned to him according to our original employment agreement."
'Planetary gear?' Joseph narrowed his eyes, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. 'I seem to recall something about that.'
Murdoch, thinking Joseph didn't believe him, raised his voice a few notches. "Your Highness, if you wish, I can describe the conception process of this technology in detail."
"Oh, and by the way, I also invented a completely new High-Pressure Steam Engine technology..."
He trailed off, sounding a bit deflated. "It's just that Mr. Watt worried the High-Pressure Steam Engine's power would be too great and affect the sales of the company's existing products, so he wouldn't allow me to disclose this technology. That's why I haven't been able to apply for a patent yet."
Joseph silently repeated 'planetary gear' and 'High-Pressure Steam Engine' to himself. Suddenly, something clicked, and he blurted out. "Mr. Murdoch, do you also have an invention for a Gas Lamp?"
"A Gas Lamp?" Murdoch looked utterly astonished. "I do have a scheme for producing coal gas from coal, but it's not yet perfected... Do you know a Mr. Cumnock? I've only mentioned it to him."
Joseph, of course, didn't know anyone named Cumnock. But he could now confirm Murdoch's identity—the famous Scottish inventor, holder of multiple steam engine patents, especially for High-Pressure Steam Engines, yet later generations only remembered him as the inventor of the Gas Lamp.
More than a decade later, it would be the Gas Streetlights that illuminated all of London, becoming a symbol of British civilization!
Seeing that the Crown Prince seemed interested in him, Murdoch quickly continued. "Your Highness, you might not believe it, but most of the patents Mr. Watt holds have my contributions, and some were even entirely my inventions."
"I am extremely familiar with steam engine technology. In fact, I've always wanted to open a steam engine factory, but I lacked the capital. As soon as I heard Mr. Dupont say that you intended to invest in the steam engine industry, I immediately rushed here."
"Your Highness, if you allow me to help you establish this factory, I swear, I will not do a worse job than Mr. Watt!"
Murdoch had worked at Watt's company for over a decade, had many patents taken from him, but his salary wasn't particularly high. His heart was already brimming with resentment, but for the sake of making a living, he had no choice but to endure it.
Historically, it wasn't until more than a year later, when he invented the dry distillation of coal for gas production technology and earned money from the Gas Lamp patent, that he finally freed himself from Watt.
Joseph's steam engine development plan, however, presented him with another option!
Joseph hadn't expected that in losing something, he would gain something even better. He had missed Watt but had secured Murdoch.
This genius's skills were definitely no worse than Watt's. He could also help Joseph unlock the Gas Lamp technology tree, and he was much younger and more energetic than Watt.
He immediately stood up, smiling and nodding to Murdoch. "Congratulations, Mr. Murdoch. You are now the General Manager of the Royal French Machinery Company. I wish us a pleasant and fruitful collaboration."
Murdoch froze for a moment, then his heart swelled with elation. He had expected to expend considerable effort to persuade the French Crown Prince, but had never imagined his wish would be granted so easily, and directly as General Manager, no less!
He excitedly pressed a hand to his chest and bowed deeply. "Thank you for your trust, Your Royal Highness. I will not disappoint you!"
"Indeed. I too look forward to your outstanding performance."
Murdoch suddenly recalled something else and nervously rubbed his hands together as he spoke. "Your Highness, um, I hope to obtain patents for the technologies I've invented."
On his journey here, he had heard that France had passed the Patent Law. The forceful appropriation of his patents had always been a thorn in his side.
"The patents rightfully belong to you." Joseph nodded immediately. "However, you must grant the company exclusive usage rights."
"That's certainly not a problem, Your Highness." Murdoch then added. "Also, as you know, I will contribute all my skills to the company, and perhaps... I could receive 10% of the company's shares. I would be very grateful if that were possible."
Joseph immediately shook his head. "How can that be?"
Murdoch's face showed alarm. Considering an investment of one million Livres, 10% amounted to 100,000 Livres, which was indeed a bit too much.
He was about to say, 'Would 5% be acceptable?' when he heard the Crown Prince say. "Given your value, you should receive at least 20% of the shares. However, these will be Stock Options."
"20%?!" Murdoch jumped in surprise. He was stunned for a moment before asking again. "What are options?"
"It means you'll be granted 4% of the shares annually, for five years. If you resign during this period, any previously acquired shares will be forfeited." Murdoch was, after all, British. Joseph needed to use a few tricks from later generations to bind him to France. After five years, France would certainly have its own mature steam engine development team. By then, whether he wanted to leave or stay would no longer significantly impact the team.
"Your Highness, I truly don't know how to thank you enough!" Murdoch, however, was overjoyed.
Just five years. He had worked for Watt for over a decade and hadn't received a single share. In comparison, the French Crown Prince was simply too generous!
Murdoch secretly swore to himself: 'I must build the finest steam engines to repay Your Royal Highness.'
Seeing that it was almost lunchtime, Joseph invited Dupont and Murdoch to have lunch with him.
On the way to the dining room, Murdoch eagerly began outlining his plans to the Crown Prince. "Your Highness, your choice to establish the factory in Nancy is exceptionally wise. Many mines there will purchase our products."
"Once the equipment and manpower are ready, we'll begin production of 25 Horsepower High-Pressure Steam Engines. Their pumping efficiency is sure to make those mine owners open their purses immediately!"
It was worth noting that Watt Company's steam engines currently had an average output of only 15 to 20 Horsepower. This clearly demonstrated the advantage of high-pressure technology.
Joseph, however, shook his head. "No, what we must first produce are high-precision steam engines designed to power Boring Machines, screw-cutting Lathes, and Milling Machines. Our primary goal is to enhance the efficiency and precision of these processing machines; raw power is not the most critical factor."
"But," Murdoch interjected. "Your Highness, none of the equipment you mentioned will generate profit. The initial investment..."
Joseph smiled faintly. "You needn't worry; I will provide ample guarantees for the funding."
His original intention for developing steam engines was to drive France's Industrialization, and various machine tools were precisely the "mother machines" of industry. These processing machines already existed in Europe at the time, but they were powered by human or water force, resulting in low power and poor precision. If driven by steam engines, their processing speed and precision would dramatically increase.
For instance, automated Boring Machines and Milling Machines would have extremely widespread applications in the arsenals he envisioned. Compared to manual production of weapons and equipment, there would be a leap in both precision and production efficiency, while costs would drastically decrease. Most importantly, it would allow for easier standardization of components.
Furthermore, with automated processing equipment, it would in turn improve the production speed and quality of steam engines themselves, creating a virtuous cycle. By then, manufacturing Water Pumps, steam textile machines, and the like would naturally follow suit, when water flows, a channel is formed.
...
Southern outskirts of Paris.
In a patch of weeds over 400 meters north of the Paris Police Academy training ground, lay a dark 4-pounder Cannon, concealed.
A French Guards officer, disguised as an ordinary citizen, glanced southward impatiently, periodically checking the pocket watch in his hand.
Over ten minutes later, several cannon roars echoed from the direction of the police academy training ground. The officer immediately perked up and barked at the soldiers seated around him. "Everyone up, you lazy louts!"
Six or seven artillerymen, also in plain clothes, quickly gathered. Some adjusted the cannon's alignment, others secured its wheels, while the rest waited nearby, clutching gunpowder and cannonballs.
The officer used his Telescope to look at a farmhouse to the north, then glanced at the pre-calculated firing parameters in his small notebook. He personally raised the Gun Barrel and carefully measured with a protractor.
"Alright, load it." He motioned to a soldier nearby.
The soldier quickly poured the gunpowder into the Gun Barrel. Another stepped forward and tamped it down with a ramrod. The next soldier inserted the shot. The one with the ramrod pushed the cannonball to the bottom of the breech.
Another cannon blast echoed from the police academy training ground. The officer began timing, quickly estimating that the police's drills involved roughly one shot every three minutes.
He signaled to his gunner.
The young man holding the linstock hurried over. He glanced towards the farmhouse, then at the officer, his expression somewhat conflicted as he asked. "Sir, there appears to be only one farmer's household over there. Are we truly going to fire at it?"
"Silence!" The officer glared at him. "You just need to follow orders."
"Yes, sir..."
The officer, seeing that exactly three minutes had passed since the last cannon roar, immediately shouted to the gunner. "Fire!"
The soldier had long developed the habit of unquestioning obedience. He quickly pressed the linstock to the touchhole. The cannon let out a furious roar. Billowing smoke instantly enveloped the surroundings.
A 4-pound (about 1.8-kilogram) iron ball whistled as it slammed into the distant farmhouse, sending splinters of wood and dry straw flying everywhere. The simple farmhouse immediately collapsed on one side.
Almost simultaneously, a loud boom also came from the direction of the police academy training ground.
The French Guards officer confirmed the hit on the farmhouse with his Telescope. A cold smirk played on his lips. He turned and ordered his men to hitch the cannon to the horses and retreat swiftly towards the northwest.
Meanwhile, another group of soldiers, already waiting there, clumsily dismantled the Gun Barrel and loaded it onto a carriage. The carriage then made a quick escape towards the city of Paris, while the gun carriage was hidden in the dense woods nearby.
At the Paris Police Academy training ground, Berthier was discussing the new tactic of Artillery Concentration with Dubois. Although his transfer to the French Guards' engineering battalion had been decided, the order had not yet arrived. During this time, he came to the training ground almost daily. Indeed, as the Crown Prince had said, there were many new tactics here that kept him endlessly fascinated.
After another artillery firing drill, Dubois frowned and turned to his assistant. "If I'm not mistaken, we had three cannons in training this afternoon."
"Yes, sir, two 4-pounder Cannons and one 8-pounder Cannon."
"But there were four cannon shots just now."
Berthier remarked from the side. "Perhaps it was an echo."
"Doesn't sound like it." Dubois was an artilleryman by training and extremely sensitive to the sound of cannons.
He immediately waved to the guards on the training ground. "You few, come with me to check it out."
"Yes, sir!"
When Dubois and the officers arrived at the spot where the French Guards had fired earlier, they found nothing, only the faint scent of gunpowder lingering in the air.
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