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Chapter 500: Lightning Coal Company

In the early morning, Tipu Sultan, covered in blood and mud, returned to Seringapatam with eight or nine hundred soldiers.

Indeed, several hundred men had become separated and lost on the return journey. In the 18th century, without any navigation or night vision equipment, this was an incredibly low rate of attrition—a testament to the Mysore Tiger's bravery and formidable combat prowess.

However, his audacious gamble had paid off—he had destroyed most of the British heavy artillery. Now, the Mysore army could once again hunker down behind their defenses and use their cannons to delay the British forces.

Before the British reached Seringapatam, Mysore had already purchased vast quantities of gunpowder and cannonballs via the Morocco-Ottoman supply route, enough to keep their cannons supplied until winter.

According to Marquis Lafayette, the British would certainly retreat by the end of the monsoon season.

It was precisely because Tipu Sultan believed his prophecy that he fought desperately to hold the British back from Seringapatam.

With South Kanara on the west coast having fallen, it was already difficult for Mysore to receive supplies sent by Morocco from the Gulf of Oman. If the British could hold out until the end of the year, Mysore would have no choice but to abandon Seringapatam.

Over the next month or so, the British forces launched a series of extremely fierce attacks. But Tipu Sultan, relying on the defenses Lafayette had laid out before his departure and his own valor, repelled the enemy repeatedly. Though it cost tens of thousands of heavy casualties, Seringapatam, despite appearing on the verge of collapse, remained unbreached.

Every day, Tipu Sultan watched the bodies of soldiers being carried back from the front lines, his brow furrowed deeply as his apprehension and hatred for the British grew with each passing day.

What he didn't know was that historically, at this very moment, Seringapatam's food supplies would have run out, the Mysore army's morale would have plummeted, and they would soon be forced to retreat.

But now, he had abundant provisions, having lost only a few border provinces like Vijayanagara and South Kanara. The kingdom's core regions were largely intact, and its national strength had not suffered significantly.

Compared to the historical Third Anglo-Mysore War, where he lost Seringapatam, the administrative center, and all territories east of Mysore, this situation was immensely better.

At the very least, if the British were to demand 3 million Pound Sterling in reparations for their withdrawal now, he would utter only one word: "Scram!"

As September approached.

The British offensive noticeably weakened.

Marquis Wellesley had contracted malaria, suffering from a fever that made it nearly impossible to rise from bed. His soldiers, too, were falling ill in droves; besides malaria, dysentery ravaged the army, leaving over 20% of the troops unfit for combat.

Even more alarming, virulent diseases with no common name began appearing among the ranks—victims sometimes bled from every pore and died within just three or four days.

The army physician advised Wellesley not to let the soldiers eat rice, believing it to be the primary cause of the dysentery. But Wellesley couldn't implement this, as the British army's warehouses currently held only that food.

While the auxiliary forces from the Indian princely states did not suffer widespread illness, their combat effectiveness was simply insufficient to threaten the Mysoreans.

The British expeditionary force ultimately failed to endure the monsoon season.

The commendation personally issued by His Majesty the King, along with the commission promoting him to Major General, lay on a nearby table. Wellesley struggled to sit upright in bed, exchanging a silent glance with Cornwallis, who had come to visit him.

Gunpowder was running critically low, and new cannons were impossible to transport. Meanwhile, the Mysoreans continued their relentless sneak attacks. Both men knew that this war could go no further.

"The Manata people can't even produce decent gunpowder," Cornwallis sighed. "Otherwise, just a few more attacks might have been enough to break Tipu."

"Let Sir Seeley go to Seringapatam," Wellesley waved a hand. "At least we can hold onto Vijayanagara and Kanara."

Sir Seeley was the East India Company's peace negotiator.

"And northern Chitradurga," Cornwallis added. "Though the Mysoreans have also occupied Tiruchirappalli."

They exchanged another look, their eyes filled with helplessness. The East India Company had invested 3.2 million Pound Sterling and deployed several thousand expeditionary troops, only to achieve such an outcome.

...

London.

At Madame Mordaunt's salon, a man of ordinary appearance, but dressed in the era's most fashionable loose-fitting long coat, approached Mayor Mordaunt with a wine glass and offered a polite smile. "Esteemed Mayor," he said, "I'm so fortunate to encounter you here."

Mordaunt turned, paused for a moment in surprise, then nodded in recognition. "Mr. Steller? Oh, we met at City Hall last time."

"I'm deeply honored that you remember me."

Steller's smile broadened. After more pleasantries, and once the people around the Mayor had dispersed, he moved a few steps closer and spoke. "Lord Braverman must have mentioned our company's sincerity to you. Regarding the Gas Lamp project..."

Lord Braverman was the connection Dupont had cultivated. He was primarily responsible for bribing British officials and charged a remarkably low commission of just two percent, which was quite a favor to Dupont.

Mordaunt merely smiled, neither confirming nor denying. "You know, Parliament places great importance on this London Gas Lamp installation. My report must contain enough convincing information for the members to decide who will undertake the project."

Steller immediately replied, "Please rest assured, Member of Parliament Mordaunt is very familiar with our company's capabilities, and he will certainly support us."

Mordaunt was a primary force in Parliament advocating for the London Gas Lamp project.

Mayor Mordaunt was rather surprised. He hadn't expected this obscure "Lightning Coal Company" to not only secure Lord Braverman as a lobbyist but also to have ties with Member of Parliament Mordaunt.

If he wasn't exaggerating, then accepting his "token of goodwill" might be worth considering.

"And Mr. Coffey's technical report," Mordaunt continued, "your company must receive his approval before..."

Steller smiled faintly. "His report should be submitted to you tomorrow or the day after, I assure you."

Of course, he could guarantee it, because the technical director for the London Gas Lamp project had already accepted 2,500 Pound Sterling from him and even handed over the blueprints for London's pipeline layout.

"Oh?" Mordaunt raised an eyebrow. "Your company's efficiency truly surprises me."

"Our company has invested a great deal into the Gas Lamp project," Steller said, lowering his voice. "You see, if we aren't awarded this contract, our shareholders will suffer heavy losses. In fact, those 8,000 Pound Sterling are still negotiable."

The 8,000 Pound Sterling was the bribe amount he had previously promised Mordaunt, which was 200,000 francs, still leaving considerable room within the authority granted to him by the Crown Prince.

This Lightning Coal Company was, in fact, established in Britain with Dupont's assistance. After completing all the company's credentials and injecting tens of thousands of Pound Sterling in capital, it was specifically created to undertake the London Gas Streetlights project.

Currently, the company's official owner was a Scottish friend of Dupont's, while the company manager, Steller, was recommended by France's Minister of Commerce.