Chapter 64: The Eden Treaty
Regarding the first item, Hartley had already begun working on it. Now that he had received instructions from London, it was simply a matter of sending more people to investigate the Crown Prince's political leanings.
Hartley deduced from the Crown Prince's opposition to naval development that he was, at the very least, not anti-British. Therefore, establishing a relationship with him could be arranged as soon as possible.
Reportedly, the Crown Prince was also a highly capable mathematician. Hartley quickly decided to send a scholar to make contact with him.
As for the second item, it gave him a headache.
After Prussia's retreat from the Netherlands, its interactions with France had been scarce.
He thought for a long time but couldn't find a suitable leverage point, at most resorting to spreading rumors and slandering. It seemed he would have to bide his time and wait for a better opportunity.
Hartley carefully put away the secret letter and immediately called a meeting with his subordinates, relaying all the instructions contained within.
...
Early in the morning, Joseph welcomed an esteemed guest.
Lagrange, in fact, came to Versailles to lecture every other day. However, Joseph had been busy lately, and the two had somehow not crossed paths.
After exchanging pleasantries, the elderly mathematician pushed an exquisite invitation card towards Joseph and earnestly urged him for a good while, the core message being to attend an academic conference two days later.
Joseph had actually received two invitations from the French Academy of Mathematics, but being too busy, he had politely declined them both.
Half a month prior, Lagrange had organized and published Joseph's expanded Rolle's Theorem in a journal. Joseph was now gaining a minor reputation in the French mathematical community.
At the same time, the Academy of Mathematics sought to expand its influence by leveraging the Crown Prince's name, thus bringing out a heavyweight master like Lagrange to invite him.
Since his teacher had personally extended the invitation, Joseph found it difficult to refuse again and promised to attend.
The next day, in Madame de Tencin's luxurious villa in Paris's Saint-Germain-des-Prés district, dozens of scholars from the mathematical and physical sciences rose to greet His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince.
In this era, the boundaries between physics and mathematics were not yet clearly defined. Physicists often mingled with mathematicians.
An official from the Academy of Mathematics delivered a fervent opening speech, then ceremoniously introduced the Crown Prince, before finally declaring the conference officially open.
People successively took to the stage to give speeches, most of which covered cutting-edge mathematical topics of the era, creating a rather serious atmosphere.
Over an hour later, the conference transitioned into an open discussion session. Servants began continuously bringing out various delicacies, and the room was soon filled with the aroma of drinks and snacks.
Laughter and lively discussions filled the air. The conference venue had distinctly transformed into a mathematical salon.
Joseph had intended to leave, but he saw Madame de Tencin, the hostess, diligently bring him a cup of high-quality black tea, then enthusiastically guide him to the central seat. Clearly, the Crown Prince's presence brought her immense prestige.
Joseph reluctantly sat down beside Lagrange, inhaling the fragrant steam of the hot tea, as he listened to a white-haired elder on his left describe his proposed derivation method for a discrete probability distribution in probability theory.
As soon as the old man finished, a wave of discussion immediately arose. Joseph vaguely understood that what the elder scholar was describing bore some resemblance to the Poisson Distribution, but it was still a considerable distance from a complete formulation. 'Hmm... I wonder if Poisson has even been born yet,' he mused.
Immediately after, Lagrange rose, manuscript in hand, and began to elaborate on his deductions and ideas concerning the connection between functions and their derivatives. Since his in-depth discussion of Rolle's Theorem with Joseph, he had been dedicated to researching this area and had recently made significant breakthroughs.
Everyone likewise offered him high praise and engaged in a lively discussion for a while.
Subsequently, several other scholars spoke. While their presentations lacked the depth of the two previous masters, most offered ingenious ideas and novel perspectives, possessing considerable academic value.
Just then, a young scholar in a dark gray short coat cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention, and then began to expound at length on the negative impact of Protestantism on science.
Joseph was quite surprised. He quietly asked Lagrange, only to confirm that the man was not a clergyman, but an assistant professor of physics from the University of Paris.
When the young professor finished speaking, he unexpectedly received bursts of applause. Aside from Lagrange and a few others present, everyone else loudly praised him or expressed their agreement.
From that point on, the discussion began to stray.
A short, stout middle-aged man spoke with considerable indignation about Britain's frenzied theft of French scientific and technological secrets through industrial espionage. He claimed that such activities cost France tens of millions of livres each year.
Joseph frowned slightly. In this era, there were no significant patent laws, and it was common for Britain and France to steal each other's technological advancements. However, there was a discrepancy with what the stout gentleman claimed: France actually stole more technology from Britain. Still, discussing such matters at an academic conference seemed rather inappropriate.
But others clearly didn't think so. They immediately launched into a tirade against the "British rogues," with a chorus of taunts and insults filling the air.
A brown-haired young man seated behind Joseph to his right loudly recounted France's history of academic superiority, lambasting the British for plagiarizing French achievements, and finally, through gritted teeth, expressed his contempt for the British academic community.
Someone excitedly shouted:
"Therefore, the British can never surpass France in the world of science!"
"Exactly, just look at their foolish papers, claiming light is a wave, haha!"
"They always come up with such laughable things, and they're always so smug about it."
"Only France can lead the advancement of science; it is the will of the Lord!"
At the time, the French academic community was still very proud, and with the long-standing enmity between Britain and France, criticizing Britain had become politically correct.
"Has Britain ever had any great scholars? No!" The brown-haired young man exclaimed, waving his hand excitedly.
He then looked towards Joseph, as if seeking his support, and bowed slightly, saying, "Your Royal Highness, wouldn't you agree?"
Joseph sighed, shook his head slightly, and murmured, "They have Newton."
A hush fell over the room. Dozens of eyes simultaneously turned towards Joseph, as if they hadn't expected the Crown Prince to speak up for the British.
Joseph thought for a moment, then simply stood up. The atmosphere and the preceding remarks had truly left him unable to hold his tongue. "Actually, Britain also has many commendable aspects in science.
"Besides Newton, I believe everyone is familiar with Mr. Taylor, whose Taylor Series is frequently used when calculating trajectories.
"And Maclaurin's Constructive Geometry.
"In fact, more often than not, Mr. Watt's steam engine might bring about even more astonishing effects. In the textile industry, all of France has already felt that threat.
"Speaking of textiles, an Englishman recently invented an automatic loom..."
A middle-aged man with sharp, bright eyes and a large nose whispered, "That would be Cartwright."
"Oh, yes, Cartwright," Joseph nodded. "If this loom is combined with a steam engine, it will completely dominate the global textile industry.
"France indeed has many outstanding scholars and has achieved astonishing academic success, but we must also recognize that in many aspects, the British have already surged ahead..."
He said all this to remind the French scholars present that the battle for the Industrial Revolution was imminent, and the next technological explosion was on its way.
The steam engine and textile technology were absolutely critical areas of focus, the core pillars that would dictate the course of the Industrial Revolution.
To remain mired in France's past academic glories, or to be consumed by envy of British progress, would only lead to a complete loss in the Industrial Revolution.
After he finished speaking, the atmosphere instantly grew cold. For a time, no one else rose to speak; everyone seemed to be grappling with the contradiction between their pride and reality.
The large-nosed middle-aged man leaned closer to Joseph and whispered, "Your Highness, what you said was truly excellent! I had no idea you understood Britain so well."
Joseph smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.
The middle-aged man continued, "Several years ago, for the Anglo-French trade negotiations, I thoroughly investigated Britain's industries and technological landscape. Just as you said, Britain has gained a leading edge over France in many technologies. Unfortunately, there are too few people with your insight; most are still steeped in arrogance..."
"Trade negotiations?" Joseph looked at the middle-aged man. "And you are?"
"Oh, please excuse me, Your Highness, I was so carried away that I forgot my basic manners. My name is Dupont, Pierre Dupont."
The name was remarkably familiar. Joseph immediately asked, "Did you participate in the American independence negotiations, and do you also run a company in the chemical industry?"
"Oh, yes, Your Highness," Dupont replied, surprised. "You know me?"
Joseph nodded inwardly. 'Indeed, it's the historically famous industrialist Dupont. To think I'd meet him here.'
"I've heard of you."
Thus, the two began discussing Britain's industrial and technological situation, and the conversation soon shifted to the Anglo-French trade negotiations.
"Your Highness, since the passing of Comte de Vergennes, our negotiations with the British have stalled... and the Single Tax Plan was never implemented," Dupont said with concern. "You see, the negotiations were never truly completed, and the Eden Treaty signed now is extremely disadvantageous to France."
The Eden Treaty he spoke of was the Anglo-French trade agreement signed just last year. It imposed a series of tariff restrictions on both sides: France drastically reduced its tariffs on British industrial goods, while Britain lowered its tariffs on French wine and some agricultural products.
The result was that French industry, stripped of tariff protection, was utterly crushed by the technologically superior British. The increased sales of French wine and agricultural products were far from enough to offset the enormous losses in the industrial sector.
Joseph nodded. "This treaty was signed under very inappropriate terms and has had a catastrophic impact on French industry."
(End of Chapter)
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