The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 124

Chapter 124: The Genius Inventor

William Murdoch? Joseph seemed to have heard that name before, but for the moment, he couldn't recall where from. He guessed the man must be some capable British technician.

Since he had come all the way to France, Joseph felt it necessary to offer a greeting: "A very warm welcome to you, Mr. Murdoch. I look forward to seeing your contributions to France’s steam engine project."

Seeing that DuPont had brought only Murdoch along, Joseph already suspected that things might not go as smoothly as hoped.

He gestured for the two men to sit and anxiously turned to DuPont. "What did Mr. Watt say?"

A look of embarrassment appeared on DuPont’s face as he spoke with some difficulty: "Your Highness, I’m very sorry, but I was unable to fulfill your request. Mr. Watt has declined my invitation."

Though Joseph had braced himself for this, he still furrowed his brow upon hearing it. "Is he dissatisfied with our terms?"

"No, Your Highness, actually, he didn’t care about the terms at all..."

DuPont briefly explained Watt’s situation, and Joseph couldn’t help but sigh. "Mr. DuPont, you’ve done your best; there’s no need to blame yourself. I will think of another way."

Though Joseph appeared calm, inside he had already started to worry.

He knew full well that for France to establish a steam engine industry chain in the shortest time possible, Watt was absolutely crucial! Joseph wasn’t arrogant enough to think that he could handle the entire industry on his own. Though his mind contained many advanced steam engine principles, they were still far from being able to function as real machines. After all, he had never actually built one himself.

Leaving aside the difficulty of turning theoretical principles into working machines, even if he had the blueprints for a new type of steam engine, he wouldn’t be able to build it.

From selecting materials for the boiler to the specific casting process, from polishing the piston walls to the proportions for tolerance adjustments, from the crankshaft's cross-sectional shape to the viscosity of the lubricant for connecting parts...

Building a steam engine involved hundreds or even thousands of technical details, and if any one of them was subpar, the result would be a machine full of problems or with low power output.

If Joseph were to lead a team on a technical breakthrough, it might take three to five years to resolve the issues, but France could not afford to wait that long, and he couldn’t possibly dedicate all his energy to steam engine production.

Watt, however, had the necessary expertise and experience to build steam engines in this era. He was familiar with every part of the machine, knew how to process them, and understood what tools and materials were needed for the job.

With him, France could quickly establish a basic steam engine production line.

But it seemed Watt was destined to have no connection with France, so all the technical processes would have to be figured out by France's own technicians, at their own pace.

No one knew how long that would take...

Joseph silently shook his head, deep in thought about which French technicians were worth training, when he noticed Murdoch carefully inching forward, a little nervous as he said, "Your Highness, I heard from Mr. DuPont that you plan to establish a factory for producing steam engines?"

"That is correct."

"I think I could be of help."

"Oh? Are you familiar with building steam engines?"

Murdoch puffed out his chest, exuding confidence. "Your Highness, if you think Mr. Watt could handle it, then I can certainly do it."

"To put it this way, everything he knows, I know as well. And I also have my own patents."

Joseph looked at the middle-aged man before him, somewhat surprised. "Is that true?"

DuPont quickly interjected, "Your Highness, I’ve confirmed that Mr. Murdoch holds two patents in Britain: one for a rotary steam engine and another for a steam gun."

It was precisely because Murdoch held these two patents that DuPont had decided to bring him to meet the Crown Prince.

"Your Highness, perhaps you've heard of the steam engine’s 'planetary crank gear mechanism,'" Murdoch said, his tone clearly tinged with resentment. "In fact, I was the one who invented that. But since I worked for Mr. Watt’s company, under our original work agreement, the patent was assigned to him."

Planetary gears? Joseph narrowed his eyes, feeling like he vaguely remembered something.

Murdoch, thinking Joseph didn’t believe him, raised his voice slightly. "Your Highness, if you require, I can describe the conceptual process of this technology in detail."

"Oh, by the way, I also invented a new type of high-pressure steam engine..."

He then sounded somewhat deflated. "But Mr. Watt was concerned that the higher power output of the high-pressure steam engine would interfere with the sales of their existing products, so he didn’t allow me to release this technology, and I haven’t been able to apply for a patent yet."

Joseph muttered the words "planetary gears" and "high-pressure steam engine" repeatedly, when suddenly something clicked in his mind. He blurted out, "Mr. Murdoch, don’t you also have an invention for gas lighting?"

"Gas lighting?" Murdoch looked quite surprised. "I do have a plan for generating gas from coal, but it’s not perfect... Do you know Mr. Kamnock? I only mentioned this to him."

Joseph, of course, didn’t know any Mr. Kamnock, but he now fully recognized Murdoch’s identity—the famous Scottish inventor who held numerous patents on steam engines, particularly high-pressure steam engines. But history would remember him primarily as the inventor of the gas streetlight.

More than a decade later, gas streetlights would light up all of London, becoming a symbol of British civilization!

Murdoch, sensing that the Crown Prince had become interested in him, quickly continued: "Your Highness, you may not believe it, but most of the patents Mr. Watt holds were based on my contributions, and some were entirely my own inventions."

"I’m very familiar with steam engine technology. In fact, I’ve always wanted to open a steam engine factory, but lacked the funds. When I heard from Mr. DuPont that you were planning to invest in the steam engine industry, I immediately came here."

"Your Highness, if you allow me to help you establish the factory, I swear I will do no worse than Mr. Watt!"

Murdoch had worked for over a decade in Watt’s company, losing many patents to him but earning a meager salary. He had long been filled with resentment, but for the sake of earning a living, he had to endure it.

Historically, it was only after he invented the coal gasification process and made money from gas lighting patents that he finally broke free from Watt’s shadow.

Now, Joseph’s steam engine development plan presented him with another opportunity!

Joseph hadn’t expected that, although he missed out on Watt, he had gained Murdoch.

This man’s skills were certainly on par with Watt’s, and he could even help him build the gas lighting technology tree. Moreover, Murdoch was much younger than Watt and much more energetic.

He immediately stood up, smiling and nodding at Murdoch. "Congratulations, Mr. Murdoch, you are now the General Manager of the Royal French Machinery Company. I look forward to our successful cooperation."

Murdoch froze for a moment, then his heart filled with overwhelming joy. He had expected that convincing the Crown Prince would take some effort, but he hadn’t imagined it would go so smoothly. And he was given the position of General Manager right away!

He excitedly pressed his hand to his chest and bowed deeply. "Thank you for your trust, Your Highness. I will not let you down!"

“Hmm, I’m also looking forward to your excellent performance,” Joseph said with a smile.

Murdoch suddenly seemed to recall something, nervously rubbing his hands. “Your Highness, I was hoping to secure the patent for the technology I invented.”

He had heard on the way here that France had passed the Patent Law, and the idea of someone else taking his patents had long been a concern.

“The patent should naturally belong to you,” Joseph immediately agreed, nodding. “However, you will need to grant the company exclusive usage rights.”

“That’s no problem, Your Highness,” Murdoch replied. “Also, as you know, I’ll be contributing all of my skills to the company. Perhaps... I could receive 10% of the company’s shares. I would be deeply grateful to you for that.”

Joseph immediately shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

Murdoch’s face showed an anxious expression. Considering the 1 million livres investment, 10% would amount to 100,000 livres—far too much.

He was about to ask, “Would 5% be acceptable?” when he heard the Crown Prince say, “Given your value, you should at least receive 20% of the shares. However, these will be stock options.”

“20%?!” Murdoch was startled. He paused for a moment before asking, “What are stock options?”

“It means we will grant you 4% of the shares each year for five years. If you resign during this period, the previous shares will become invalid.” Joseph, understanding Murdoch’s British background, knew he needed to use a bit of modern financial technique to tie him to France. As for after five years, France would surely have a fully developed steam engine team by then, and Murdoch could leave or stay without impacting the team much.

“Your Highness, I truly don’t know how to thank you enough!” Murdoch was overjoyed.

Only five years—he had worked for Watt for over a decade and hadn’t received a single share. Compared to that, the Crown Prince of France was being incredibly generous!

Murdoch silently vowed: He would create the best steam engine to repay His Highness the Crown Prince.

As lunchtime approached, Joseph invited DuPont and Murdoch to join him for a meal.

On the way to the restaurant, Murdoch eagerly began discussing his plans with the Crown Prince. “Your Highness, choosing Nancy to build the factory was a very wise decision. There are many mines in the area that will buy our products.”

“Once we have the equipment and manpower ready, we can begin producing the 25-horsepower high-pressure steam engine. The water pumping efficiency will definitely make those mine owners open their wallets immediately!”

It was important to note that the current steam engines from Watt’s company only averaged 15 to 20 horsepower, which highlighted the advantages of high-pressure technology.

But Joseph shook his head. “No, the first engines we need to produce will be high-precision steam engines for driving machines like boring machines, thread-cutting lathes, and milling machines. The main goal is to improve the efficiency and precision of these machines; power is not the most important factor.”

“But, Your Highness,” Murdoch cautioned, “those machines won’t make any money. The initial investment...”

Joseph smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, I will ensure sufficient funding for the project.”

Joseph’s goal with the steam engine was to promote France’s industrial development, and machine tools were the “mother machines” of industry. At this time in Europe, these processing machines existed but were powered by manpower or water, resulting in low power and poor precision. Switching to steam power would drastically improve both speed and precision.

For example, machines like automatic boring mills and milling machines would have wide applications in his planned arms factory—compared to manually produced weapons and equipment, both precision and production efficiency would leap forward. Costs would drop significantly, and, most importantly, it would be easier to standardize the components.

Furthermore, with automatic processing machines, the production speed and quality of steam engines would improve, creating a virtuous cycle. By then, producing pumps, steam-powered looms, and other machines would naturally follow.

...

In the southern suburbs of Paris.

In a patch of weeds over 400 meters north of the Paris Police Academy’s training grounds, a black four-pound cannon lay crouched.

A French Guard officer, dressed like an ordinary citizen, was impatiently looking south, occasionally glancing at the pocket watch in his hand.

More than ten minutes later, several cannon shots rang out from the direction of the training grounds. The officer immediately perked up and sharply ordered the soldiers sitting around to stand. “Get up, you lazybones!”

Six or seven other artillerymen, also dressed in plain clothes, quickly gathered around. Some adjusted the cannon’s direction, others secured the wheels, while the rest stood by with powder and ammunition.

The officer used a telescope to look toward a farmhouse to the north. After glancing at the pre-calculated firing parameters in his small notebook, he personally raised the cannon’s muzzle and carefully measured the angle using a protractor.

“Alright, load the cannon,” he gestured to a nearby soldier.

The soldier quickly poured the powder into the muzzle. Another stepped forward, using a loading rod to pack it down. A third soldier placed the iron ball into the muzzle, and the first soldier pushed the cannonball down to the bottom of the barrel.

More cannon shots were heard from the direction of the training grounds. The officer checked his watch, calculating that the police training had fired approximately one shot every three minutes.

He signaled to his igniter.

The young man holding the matchstick quickly approached, glancing at the farmhouse, then at the officer, his face showing some hesitation. “Sir, there seems to be only one farmer there. Are we really going to fire at them?”

“Shut up!” The officer shot him a glare. “Just follow the orders!”

“Yes, sir…”

The officer, having waited precisely three minutes since the last shot, immediately ordered the igniter, “Fire!”

The soldiers, having been trained to obey orders without question, quickly pressed the matchstick into the firing port. The cannon roared, and thick smoke engulfed the area.

A four-pound iron ball screamed as it pierced the farmhouse in the distance, sending a shower of splinters and dry hay flying. The simple farmhouse collapsed on one side.

Almost simultaneously, a loud explosion was heard from the direction of the training grounds.

The French Guard officer used his telescope to confirm that the farmhouse had been hit. A cold smile crept across his face as he turned to his subordinates, giving the order to attach the cannon to a horse and retreat quickly to the northwest.

Meanwhile, another group of soldiers, who had been waiting nearby, hurriedly dismantled the cannon and loaded it onto a wagon. The wagon quickly moved toward the Paris city center, while the cannon carriage was hidden in the nearby dense forest.

At the Paris Police Academy training grounds, Berthier was discussing the new artillery tactic of "concentrating cannon fire" with Dubois. Though Berthier had already been assigned to the French Guard Engineering Battalion, his official transfer orders had not yet arrived. He had been coming to the training grounds almost daily, excited by the new tactics, as the Crown Prince had predicted.

After another artillery firing exercise, Dubois frowned and turned to his assistant. “If I’m not mistaken, we were supposed to fire three cannons this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir. Two 4-pound cannons and one 8-pound cannon.”

“But just now, I heard four shots.”

Berthier commented, “Maybe it was just an echo.”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” said Dubois, who, being an artilleryman, was very sensitive to the sound of cannons.

He immediately waved to the sentries at the training grounds. “You there, come with me and take a look.”

“Yes, sir!”

When Dubois and his officers arrived at the spot where the French Guard had fired, there was nothing to be seen, only the faint scent of gunpowder in the air.

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