The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 265

Chapter 265: Competing Through Industry

Afterward, Joseph hardly paid attention to Fouché's report. There were documents he could review at his leisure later.

Once Fouché left, Joseph stretched as he gazed out at the sunlight streaming through the window.

Reflecting on the past year, his efforts had stabilized the nation's debt, weathered the famine, and improved the lives of the lower classes. The chances of France descending into a large-scale revolution were now slim. The most pressing survival issues had been initially resolved.

However, the cost of these successes had been the disruption of the old aristocracy's privileges, sparking new societal tensions.

Ultimately, the size of the "cake" in the country was limited. Allocating more to the peasantry meant taking from the aristocracy.

To unite the nobility around the royal court and encourage their continued contributions to France, Joseph realized the cake must be enlarged. They had to be involved in distributing the new shares.

"So, how do we enlarge the cake?" Joseph muttered, picking up his teacup, only to find the tea had gone cold.

Eymond, ever observant, signaled for a servant to bring fresh tea.

"Your Highness, would you like a piece of cake?"

"Oh, no, thank you," Joseph replied with a smile and a shake of his head. "I must save my 'quota' of cake for my visit to Her Majesty the Queen."

"Praise your frugality," Eymond said, attributing the refusal to Joseph's moderation, unaware of the concept of sugar's potential harm. He retreated to the doorway with a respectful bow.

The warmth of the fresh tea brought Joseph a sense of calm.

He thought of Napoleon. France had faced similar struggles with resource distribution under his rule. Napoleon's solution had been to direct internal pressures outward—using others' "cakes" to satisfy the French people.

Joseph sighed. War was the defining theme of the era. The European continent saw multiple wars erupt annually. If you did not attack others, they would attack you, all in pursuit of capturing a larger share of the "cake."

Yet, while appropriating others' resources was a strategy, Joseph knew it must not be pursued recklessly, as Napoleon had. France's appetite for conquest had antagonized all of Europe, leading to its eventual downfall.

"Two paths," Joseph resolved aloud. "While looking outward, we must also enlarge our cake domestically." He set down his teacup and wrote several words on paper: "industry," "agriculture," and "trade."

France remained an agrarian nation, and increasing grain yields would most directly contribute to expanding the cake. This would also swiftly improve the quality of life for the lower classes.

The most immediate way to boost grain production was through fertilizers. Current phosphate rock supplies, extracted from Nauru and Tunis—essentially mineralized guano—could partially address the issue, but transportation costs were prohibitive.

The true agricultural revolution would come through industrially synthesized fertilizers.

However, the global state of chemical engineering was underdeveloped. While sulfuric acid could be industrially synthesized, the other foundational components of chemical industries—the "three acids and two alkalis"—remained confined to small-scale laboratory production.

This severely limited the potential for a nationwide fertilizer industry.

Under the heading "industry," Joseph drew a branch labeled "chemical engineering" and began recalling the trajectory of chemical industrial development during the historical Industrial Revolution.

He thought of one potential breakthrough—gas lighting.

In the early 19th century, the British had installed gas street lamps in London, significantly enhancing the city's convenience and image.

Unexpectedly, this project also catalyzed the development of Britain's chemical industry.

The distillation of coal gas produced vast amounts of coal tar, a sticky and unpleasant byproduct. British scientists discovered that coal tar was rich in valuable compounds such as aniline.

The coal-tar-based industries flourished, accelerating advancements in disinfectants, dyes, fragrances, and even explosives. This, in turn, drove remarkable progress in chemical engineering technologies.

At a time when the textile industry reigned supreme, dyes were cutting-edge technology.

Joseph nodded to himself. Launching a gas lighting project would be an excellent starting point.

Beyond fostering chemical industry development, affordable and convenient gas lamps would offer substantial direct benefits. They would illuminate cities, extend commercial activity into nighttime hours, and convert what were previously unproductive hours into economic gains. For industrial production, low-cost lighting would enable factories to operate longer hours, making night shifts feasible.

All these factors would directly boost the nation's GDP.

Furthermore, a gas lighting project would stimulate the coal industry. Eventually, the entire project could be exported, turning it into an industrial hallmark for France.

Joseph smiled at the thought of the myriad benefits gas lighting could bring. Conveniently, William Murdoch, the inventor of the gas lamp, was currently working on steam engines in Nancy under French employ.

Launching the gas lighting project was almost effortless now.

"I'll be seizing this British innovation for France!"

...

The next day.

Joseph emerged from the meeting hall in high spirits. The "Grain Production Decree" had just been approved by the Cabinet. Once registered in the High Court, it would soon be implemented nationwide.

This outcome was unsurprising. Most Cabinet members were Joseph's appointees, and after the recent grain shortage riots, increasing production was the ultimate political imperative. No one dared oppose it.

As Joseph walked, he thought of his gas lighting plans and turned to Count Mirabeau.

"Are you familiar with gas lamps?"

Mirabeau considered for a moment.

"Your Highness, I recall reading a paper about them. These lamps burn gas derived from coal and emit very bright light."

"Exactly," Joseph confirmed. "I plan to install these lamps along the streets of Paris. If successful, we can light the entire city at very low cost."

"Street lamps?" Mirabeau appeared skeptical of their importance.

Joseph outlined the numerous advantages of gas lighting, leaving Mirabeau wide-eyed.

"Yes, Your Highness! Factories could operate round the clock, and shops could stay open all night. It's truly remarkable!"

"But the technology is not yet mature," Joseph cautioned. "However, I know someone skilled in this area. I need you to prepare a plan for installing streetlights throughout Paris, including Versailles, and draft an initial budget."

"Understood, Your Highness. I will submit a report promptly!"

As Mirabeau spoke, one of Louis XVI's attendants approached, bowing to Joseph.

"Your Highness, His Majesty the King invites you to his workshop."

"I'll be there immediately," Joseph replied, then said to Mirabeau, "We'll discuss the details later."

Soon, at the royal workshop, Louis XVI gestured toward a massive wooden machine nearly three meters wide and as tall as two men. It featured numerous cylindrical components.

"Here it is," Louis XVI said with mild enthusiasm. "The automatic loom you requested."

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