Chapter 70: Lithography
Versailles Palace was west of Paris, while Saint-Antoine Town was to the northeast. Crown Prince Joseph, to avoid shuttling back and forth—mainly because he couldn't stand the bumpy carriage rides—spent the night at the Paris Chamber of Commerce president's residence. The next morning, he headed directly to Saint-Antoine Town.
This small town on the outskirts of Paris was somewhat akin to a special economic zone, the only place around Paris free from the influence of various guilds. Artisans could find work here without having to join a guild.
Since they could save on guild fees, the artisans' demanded wages were slightly lower. Consequently, many workshops looking to cut costs established themselves here.
After years of development, Saint-Antoine Town was bustling with workshops, attracting thousands of artisans and their families.
Joseph had Eman find a guide to take him around to inspect several paper-making workshops in the town, but he gradually began to frown.
Those small workshops had almost no facilities to experiment with new papermaking techniques.
The largest workshop, with over two hundred artisans, was massive in scale, but the owner, Réveillon, was unwilling to try new papermaking techniques.
After all, new technologies required substantial investment for production trials, and the outcome was unpredictable. The risks involved were simply too great.
Joseph considered gritting his teeth and buying the workshop to run himself, but ultimately abandoned the idea.
Joseph had been frequently flexing his 'money power' recently, causing his previously impressive fortune of over 2.3 million Livres to shrink to a mere 700,000.
If he poured all his funds into a paper mill, he would immediately find himself in a predicament should money be needed elsewhere.
Therefore, after careful consideration, Joseph realized he could only temporarily put aside the matter of inexpensive papermaking until he had more financial leeway.
However, this outcome was somewhat within his expectations. After all, a large-scale, high-value industry like papermaking couldn't undergo technological revolution overnight.
It was important to remember that if the papermaking industry could achieve an upgrade and be implemented nationwide, it could significantly boost France's economy.
By the time Joseph returned to Versailles, three plate-making artisans from the Paris Business Journal Office had already been waiting for him for quite some time.
Joseph observed the three men carrying heavy tool bags on their backs, with various sized hammers tucked into their belts. Then, he glanced at the mirror-smooth marble floor of his bedchamber and immediately abandoned the idea of teaching them lithography there.
Eman suddenly approached quickly, bowing as he said, "Your Highness, the chalk slabs you requested are still piled on the carriage. Where would you like them unloaded?"
Joseph frowned, thinking, 'If only I had a workshop.'
The thought of a workshop suddenly brought a place to mind, and he couldn't help but smile, telling Eman, "Move them all to His Majesty the King's workshop."
"This..." Eman exclaimed, surprised. "Are you certain?"
"I'll speak with His Majesty about it."
Joseph then gestured to the three artisans. "Please follow me."
Ten minutes later, in Louis XVI's well-equipped, spacious, and bright Royal Workshop, His Majesty the King of France curiously examined the slabs before him and the artisans dressed in coarse cloth.
Joseph first sincerely thanked his father for providing immense assistance to France's publishing industry, then adopted a extremely serious expression as he looked at the three artisans:
"The technique I am about to teach you is of utmost importance! You are absolutely forbidden to reveal it to anyone without my permission, otherwise..."
He pondered for a moment, then chose the gravest possible charge, stating, "It will be considered an act of treason."
Inside the Royal Workshop were the reigning King and the Crown Prince. Outside stood tall, formidable palace guards. The artisans, having never seen such a display, were so nervous their legs trembled. They dared not even lift their heads, only repeatedly swore oaths that they would not utter a single word to anyone else.
Immediately, Eman retrieved the prepared confidentiality agreement and had each artisan sign it.
Joseph knew that without a Patent Law in place, the technique couldn't be kept secret for too long. In the future, he intended to popularize lithography throughout France.
However, for now, this was his winning weapon, and the technology absolutely could not be leaked. For the foreseeable future, he would assign people to constantly protect these three plate-making artisans, at least until he could control public opinion in Paris.
Once the secrecy briefing was complete, Joseph formally began to introduce the lithography technique.
He had an artisan fix a polished chalk slab to a table, then retrieved the prepared printing ink and mixed in some paraffin wax and rosin.
Once the additives in the ink were fully dissolved, Joseph dipped a paintbrush into the ink and wrote "Homage to His Majesty the King" on the chalk slab.
An hour later, the ink had mostly dried. Joseph then brushed the slab twice with dilute nitric acid.
The areas of the slab covered by ink were unaffected, while the other parts were eroded by a thin layer of nitric acid.
"The plate is complete," Joseph remarked casually. He then coated the slab with water, followed by printing ink.
He mused to himself, 'I can't believe that little bit of "skill" I picked up when I volunteered to teach in the mountains for a month, helping the principal print exam papers for the children with a mimeograph machine, would actually come in handy here.'
At this point, the areas of the slab eroded by nitric acid, having absorbed water, prevented the ink from adhering, while the original dry ink was now thoroughly coated with printing ink.
Joseph placed a sheet of paper over the slab, pressed it lightly, then carefully removed it. A line of text was clearly visible on the paper—"Homage to His Majesty the King."
However, the words were reversed.
The three artisans exchanged glances, immense shock visible in each other's eyes.
Although the line of text was simple and not perfectly neat, the entire process, from plate creation to printing, took just over an hour! This completely shattered their understanding of printing!
Louis XVI, who had been watching with great interest for some time, now leisurely asked, "Was there anything special about the printing process just now?"
The oldest plate-making artisan, seeing His Majesty the King genuinely ask, hurriedly bowed with trepidation and explained, "Your Majesty, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's technique is enough to render all current printing methods obsolete!"
Another artisan excitedly added, "Previously, when we made copper plates, we first covered the copper with a layer of wax, then placed paper over it, and used a pen to engrave away the unwanted parts of the image on the paper.
"The pen would remove the wax beneath the paper. After the drawing was complete, the copper plate would be placed in ferric acid. The areas not covered by wax would be corroded away. Then, we would remove the copper plate, wipe off the surface wax, and finally apply ink for printing."
"Just the engraving of the wax alone took a long time, and corroding the copper plate required most of a day. Typically, completing a single plate took at least two or three days."
"Moreover, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's method of plate creation is to directly draw the desired parts, which is far simpler than engraving away the undesired parts!"
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