Chapter 989: Paris, the City of Fog
Chapter 989: Paris, the City of Fog
The northern suburbs of Paris.
Inside a Gem VI carriage, Joseph looked at the report in his hand and turned to Berthier, who sat opposite him. "So, the British have only sent ten thousand additional troops and seventy-five cannons to Portugal?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Joseph shook his head. "That level of attrition won't be enough to make Grenville feel the sting."
"Well, Wellesley seems quite confident in himself. It looks like we need to turn up the pressure a bit."
The Chief of General Staff asked hurriedly, "Your Highness, are you suggesting we also increase our troop strength?"
"Yes, we reinforce," Joseph nodded. "Order General Masséna to lead twenty thousand soldiers to Iberia. Furthermore, tell Madrid to continue their mobilization. The funds they seized from the Church are more than enough to support an army of seventy or eighty thousand."
Berthier hesitated for a moment before asking cautiously, "Your Highness, you previously stated that our country should try to limit the scale of our intervention in the Portuguese theater."
"But you just said to send twenty thousand more..."
Joseph smiled slightly. "Masséna's troops might move very slowly. They might not reach Gascony until the end of the year. Of course, the departure ceremony must be grand, and make sure Schérer writes a detailed press release about it."
Berthier understood immediately. "You intend to use this to provoke the British?"
"Precisely."
This was a textbook Open Scheme.
France was making it obvious they intended to reinforce the assault on Coimbra. The British would have no choice but to follow suit with their own reinforcements, and they couldn't afford to delay. After all, the Duke of York must have already detailed the speed of French marches in his military reports.
By the time the British army reached Coimbra, Masséna would have long since returned to his original station.
But would the British dare to withdraw those troops?
Absolutely not.
Who knew if the French were plotting something else, ready to pounce the moment they let their guard down?
By the time British spies confirmed that the French army had not actually entered Spanish territory, at least six months would have passed.
At that point, Joseph could have Masséna lead the army on another "parade," and Wellesley would immediately be paralyzed with caution again.
Through such delays and maneuvers, tens of thousands of British expeditionary forces would be forced to squat in Portuguese fortresses, continuously draining London's military treasury.
Berthier thought for a moment and added, "Your Highness, but in that case, the British would have a numerical advantage in Portugal. What if they launch a counter-offensive?"
Joseph tossed the document onto the table and said calmly, "Then General Masséna's army will truly head south."
If the British wanted a face-to-face showdown with the French army on land, Joseph would welcome it with open arms.
In history, Masséna had indeed lost to the Duke of Wellington in Portugal, but that was under circumstances where he was forced to storm fortresses while plagued by Portuguese guerrillas in his rear.
Now, if Wellesley were the one forced to attack while the Portuguese people harbored a deep resentment toward the British, there was no way Masséna could lose.
Not to mention there were fifty to sixty thousand Spanish troops nearby to assist.
As Joseph was speaking, he suddenly caught a whiff of a pungent, acidic smell.
He frowned, knowing they must be approaching Antoine Town.
After several years of development, this area had become Paris's industrial hub, now a landscape of factories and forest-like chimneys. Over ten thousand workers were employed here.
The industries for papermaking, pharmaceuticals, chemicals, and coal tar refining were particularly advanced. Large quantities of products were loaded onto ships daily to be sent down the Seine River and sold across the European continent.
Of course, the pollution brought by industrial development was unavoidable.
Joseph had taken some measures, but the results were mediocre. Currently, only the "centralized discharge of toxic wastewater" was being strictly enforced; otherwise, the water of the Seine River would be unusable even for washing clothes, let alone drinking.
Joseph shook his head helplessly. It seemed the title of "The City of Fog" would likely belong to Paris in the future.
Soon, the carriage entered Antoine Town, and the surroundings were immediately filled with the rhythmic thundering of machinery.
Most of the noise came from steam engines.
Currently, more than thirty steam engines of various models were installed in Antoine Town. From stirring paper pulp to centrifugal purification of liquids and workshop ventilation, they appeared in almost every industry here.
It could be said that the level of industrial automation in Antoine Town was among the highest in all of Europe.
After another ten minutes, the convoy stopped in front of a factory bearing the sign "Paris Fertilizer and Pesticide Company."
Eman pulled the door open, and Joseph saw Lavoisier standing at the front with dozens of senior technicians, bowing respectfully in greeting.
Mirabeau and several other officials from the Ministry of Industry stepped out of their carriages and flanked the Crown Prince as they entered the factory.
Looking at Lavoisier, whose dark circles under his eyes had practically reached the bridge of his nose, Joseph remarked with some emotion, "I didn't expect you to complete the trial production so quickly. That brain of yours is truly the most precious treasure in France."
Indeed, from the time he had instructed Lavoisier to research the industrial production process for potash fertilizer, only about five months had passed, and the first batch of finished products was already off the line.
In another timeline, Marat had actually signed the order to execute such a transcendent genius. It was a tragedy for the world of chemistry.
"It is my greatest honor to receive your praise," Lavoisier replied with a humble bow. "In truth, I have only done a bit of insignificant work. You are the true creator of everything here."
It was true. Currently, humanity did not yet know what "potassium" actually was, and there were only a few empirical formulas for reactions involving potassium salts—many of which were incorrect.
It was Joseph who had provided Lavoisier with the reaction equation for converting potassium chloride from salt mines into potash fertilizer, which paved the way for the latter's industrial production experiments.
Under Lavoisier's guidance, Joseph walked into the production workshop and saw two iron reaction vessels, each nearly two meters tall, connected by various pipes and gauges.
On either side of the workshop were feed inlets and discharge outlets, where many workers were busily engaged.
Lavoisier first pointed toward a square storage bin on the right containing a grayish-yellow powder. "Your Highness, this is the salt transported from Bar-le-Duc."
"Without your theoretical guidance, no one would have known that this 'bitter salt' actually contained fertilizer."
The salt produced in the Bar-le-Duc region contained large amounts of potassium, making it completely inedible. For a long time, it had been regarded as waste and ignored by everyone.
This also meant the mining costs were extremely low—almost requiring only the payment of labor costs.
Lavoisier signaled to a technician. The technician checked the temperature and ordered the workers to add dozens of bags of filtered crude salt into the reaction vessel before starting the heating process.
"Your Highness, after repeated testing, the High-Temperature Supersaturation Method has proven to be the most cost-effective production method," Lavoisier explained. "The solubility of potash fertilizer in boiling water is very high, while the solubility of impurities is very low. By distilling off part of the solution at high temperatures, the impurities will be the first to precipitate."
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