Chapter 895: Britain's Problems
Wellesley and Foreign Secretary Lord Grenville exchanged a meaningful look before the latter immediately chimed in.
"Currently, the most advantageous course for our nation would be to conclude all land-based hostilities as swiftly as possible."
"Thereafter, our primary objective should be to exert every effort to foster unity among the German states. We must wait for them to recover their strength before planning a coordinated encirclement of France."
William Pitt Junior massaged his temples wearily, his bloodshot eyes staring out the window. "Doing so would be tantamount to admitting our nation's defeat..."
Admiral Jervis, Chairman of the Naval Committee, spoke up firmly.
"No, Prime Minister. It is only Prussia and Austria who have been defeated."
"Our nation can leverage its naval superiority to maintain a trade blockade along the French coast. In that way, the war will continue indefinitely."
Pitt took a deep breath, still wanting to struggle against the inevitable, until he heard the Duke of Portland, the Home Secretary, speak.
"Prime Minister, our fiscal situation can hardly support a large-scale war much longer."
Indeed, because the price of sugar had skyrocketed, the profits from sugarcane cultivation were immense. Many British planters who had previously operated in the Caribbean were flocking to India to resume their trade.
The climate in northern India was perfectly suited for sugarcane, though it had yet to be fully developed. Even without the sugar crisis, India was destined to become one of the world's most vital sugar-producing regions within the next few decades.
As for Prussia, after its defeat, it had also set its sights on the lucrative sugar business.
Historically, this region was the birthplace of beet sugar, so cultivation posed no problem.
France had over a hundred thousand farmers growing sugar beets; preventing the seeds from leaking out was an impossible task.
Simultaneously, Prussia had headhunted workers from French sugar refineries with high salaries and had begun constructing experimental refineries in Potsdam.
The Duke of Portland sighed. "India will not yield a harvest for at least a year, and there is no telling when Prussia's sugar beets will bear fruit."
"If our financial situation isn't relieved in the short term, I fear the Whig Party will launch an offensive against you in Parliament."
Pitt’s earlier implementation of a national income tax had sparked widespread resentment across Britain. His support in Parliament had plummeted to an all-time low. It was only thanks to George III's tireless support that he had managed to avoid impeachment.
Now, with the war going poorly, if the economy continued to slide, he could be ousted at any moment.
Silence descended upon the room.
After a long while, Pitt surveyed the group once more, his voice raspy. "Are there any dissenting opinions?"
The silence persisted.
"Very well. Let us leave it at that." He nodded slowly, looking toward Lord Grenville. "Please proceed to Vienna and facilitate a ceasefire as gracefully as possible..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Canning, the Second Foreign Secretary, knocked and entered, placing a document before him.
Pitt frowned. "What is this?"
Canning glanced at the other ministers and whispered, "Prime Minister, this is an urgent dispatch that just arrived from Lisbon. Their special envoy is waiting in my office."
A sense of foreboding surged within Pitt. He tore open the document, skipped the diplomatic preamble, and quickly spotted the keywords—Spain had massaged 30,000 troops to launch an attack on the Almeida Fortress. Due to a lack of preparation, the Portuguese fortress was in dire peril.
He flipped to the last page and saw the date: four days ago.
That meant the Almeida Fortress might have already fallen.
Pitt’s face turned ashen instantly. He handed the document to Lord Grenville.
"It seems we must first discuss the matter of reinforcing Lisbon."
Portugal was Britain's foothold for projecting power into the European continent. Losing it would mean their influence in Europe would be halved; it was a loss they could not afford.
Pitt then forced a smile at the Duke of Portland. "The financial problems will have to wait. Once the arrangements for aiding Portugal are finalized, I shall resign immediately."
...
Birmingham, England.
Inside Workshop No. 2 of the Boulton-Watt Steam Engine Company, Saunders pointed at a row of gauges, shouting excitedly to the company directors standing before him.
"Do you see that, gentlemen? I told you that as long as I am here, the high-pressure steam engine would be no problem!"
"A 51-horsepower output, and it has been running steadily for over thirty hours. Whether it is weight, volume, or coal consumption, every metric has surpassed the French model! Haha!"
The room immediately erupted with thunderous cheers from the directors and technicians.
Boulton glanced at Watt, who remained silent, and was the first to step forward to embrace Saunders.
"Congratulations to you, and congratulations to our company!"
Faulkner also approached, taking two glasses of wine from a servant and handing one to Saunders.
"Thank you for your outstanding work. With this machine, we can fulfill the Navy's order."
"One hundred and fifty thousand pounds. God, can you believe it? We are going to earn a hundred and fifty thousand pounds!"
His last sentence was directed at Watt. The company’s former chief technician had been questioning Saunders' high-pressure steam engine until just a few days ago, but the facts had finally silenced him.
According to the naval contract, the company was to complete the development of the new engine by the end of March. Saunders had delivered more than two months ahead of schedule.
Watt had no choice but to walk over reluctantly. He took a glass of wine from Boulton and raised it toward Saunders in a gesture of acknowledgment.
He knew very well that after the high-pressure steam engine generated such massive profits, the company’s research and development would inevitably be dominated by Saunders.
And this fellow had originally been nothing more than a junior technician under him.
However, Watt quickly composed himself. After all, they were making 150,000 pounds.
As one of the three major shareholders, he was bound to receive a significant sum. No matter how smug Saunders became, in the end, wasn't the man just working for him?
Saunders clinked glasses with the others and then slapped the steam engine behind him vigorously.
"We must convene a board meeting as soon as possible to discuss the mass production of this machine," he declared loudly.
Mass-producing a new machine required a substantial capital investment, which necessitated a board decision.
The following day at noon.
In the second-floor conference room of the Boulton-Watt Steam Engine Company, all fifteen shareholders were present.
However, the only voices that truly mattered belonged to the three major shareholders, including Boulton. Together, they held eighty-three percent of the company's shares.
Boulton began with an opening statement and was about to bring up the production plan when Saunders' cousin—his designated spokesman—stood up and spoke bluntly.
"I believe everyone is aware of the situation regarding the new high-pressure steam engine. Mr. Saunders has made an extraordinary contribution to this endeavor."
"In my opinion, it is only reasonable that his shareholding in the company be increased to over twenty percent."
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