Chapter 501: Lightning Coal Mining Company
In the early hours of the morning, Tipu Sultan, covered in blood and mud, returned to Srirangapatna with about eight or nine hundred soldiers.
Yes, several hundred men had gone missing during the retreat. Considering it was the 18th century, without modern navigation or night-vision equipment, this was already a remarkably low rate of loss. It demonstrated just how courageous and skilled this "Tiger of Mysore" was in battle.
However, his daring adventure had been worth it—he had destroyed most of the British heavy artillery. This meant that the Mysore army could now remain entrenched behind their defensive lines, using their cannons to delay the British forces.
Before the British reached Srirangapatna, Mysore had already purchased large quantities of gunpowder and cannonballs through the Morocco-Ottoman supply line, enough to sustain their artillery operations through the winter.
According to Marquis Lafayette, the British would surely retreat by the end of the monsoon season. Tipu Sultan firmly believed in this prediction, which is why he was determined to hold the British forces at bay beneath the walls of Srirangapatna.
With the fall of the South Canara coastline, Mysore's ability to receive supplies from the Oman Gulf via Morocco had been severely hampered. If the British managed to hold out until the end of the year, Mysore would have no choice but to abandon Srirangapatna.
Over the next month or so, the British launched several ferocious assaults. Yet Tipu Sultan, relying on the defensive arrangements left by Lafayette before his departure and his own personal valor, repelled the enemy time and again. Although this came at the cost of over ten thousand casualties, the seemingly fragile defenses of Srirangapatna never crumbled.
Each day, Tipu Sultan watched as the bodies of his soldiers were brought back from the front lines. His brows furrowed deeply, and his hatred for the British grew stronger with every passing day.
What he didn't know was that, in the original course of history, the grain stores in Srirangapatna would have been nearly depleted by this time. Mysore's troops would have been demoralized and on the verge of retreat.
Now, however, he had ample supplies. Despite losing minor border provinces like Vijayanagara and South Canara, the kingdom's core regions remained largely intact, and its overall strength had not suffered significant losses.
Compared to the historical Third Anglo-Mysore War, in which Srirangapatna, the administrative center, and all territories east of Mysore were lost, this situation was heaven in comparison.
At the very least, if the British demanded £3 million in reparations to withdraw now, Tipu Sultan would respond with a single word: "Scram!"
As September approached, the British offensive clearly began to weaken.
The Marquis of Wellesley had contracted malaria and was so feverish he could barely rise from his bed. Meanwhile, many of his soldiers were also falling ill. In addition to malaria, dysentery was rampant in the army, rendering over 20% of the troops unfit for combat.
Some particularly severe diseases, whose names were not even known, had also emerged in the ranks. Infected soldiers sometimes bled profusely and died within three or four days.
The army doctors advised Wellesley to prevent the soldiers from consuming rice, as they believed it was the main cause of the dysentery outbreak. However, Wellesley was unable to comply with this advice, as rice was the only food available in the British warehouses.
Although the native Indian sepoys serving the British did not suffer from widespread illness, their combat effectiveness was insufficient to pose a serious threat to Mysore forces.
In the end, the British expeditionary force could not withstand the monsoon season.
A commendation order personally signed by His Majesty the King, along with a promotion to Major General, lay on a table nearby. Wellesley struggled to sit up in bed and exchanged a silent glance with Cornwallis, who had come to visit him.
The gunpowder was nearly exhausted, and there was no chance of transporting new artillery. Meanwhile, the Mysoreans continued to harass them with constant raids. Both men knew that the war had reached its end.
"If the Marathas could produce proper gunpowder, perhaps a few more offensives would have been enough to crush Tipu," Cornwallis sighed.
"Send Sir Sealy to Srirangapatna," Wellesley said with a wave of his hand. "At least we can hold on to Vijayanagara and South Canara."
Sir Sealy was the East India Company's representative for peace negotiations.
"And the northern parts of Chitradurga," Cornwallis added. "But the Mysoreans have also taken Tiruchirapalli."
The two men exchanged another look, both filled with frustration. The East India Company had invested £3.2 million and deployed thousands of expeditionary forces, only to achieve such a meager result.
London.
At Lady Mordaunt's salon, a plain-looking man dressed in the latest loose-fitting coat held up a wine glass and approached Mayor Mordaunt with a polite smile.
"Honorable Mayor, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here! I feel incredibly fortunate!"
Mordaunt turned his head, hesitated for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgment. "Mr. Steller? Ah, we met at the City Hall last time."
"You still remember me! I'm deeply honored!"
Steller's smile grew even brighter. After exchanging pleasantries and waiting for those around the Mayor to leave, he stepped closer and said, "Lord Braverman must have mentioned our company's sincerity to you. About the gas lamp project..."
Lord Braverman was the intermediary hired by Dupont. He was primarily responsible for bribing British officials and charged a very low commission of just 2%, a favor to Dupont.
Mordaunt merely smiled and said ambiguously, "You know, Parliament places great importance on the gas lamp installation project in London. My report must contain enough convincing content before deciding who will undertake it."
"Of course," Steller replied immediately. "Rest assured, Councillor Mordaunt is well aware of our company's capabilities. He will undoubtedly support us."
Councillor Mordaunt was one of the leading advocates for London's gas lamp project in Parliament.
Mayor Mordaunt was somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected this obscure "Lightning Coal Mining Company" not only to have Braverman as their intermediary but also to have ties to Councillor Mordaunt.
If Steller wasn't exaggerating, it might be worth considering accepting his "gift."
"Then there's Mr. Coffey's technical review. Your company must obtain his approval before..."
Steller smiled and said, "His review should be submitted to you tomorrow or the day after. I can guarantee it."
He could make such a promise because the project's technical supervisor had already accepted a £2,500 bribe from him, even handing over London's pipeline layout plans.
"Oh?" Mordaunt raised an eyebrow. "Your company's efficiency is truly impressive."
"We've made a significant investment in the gas lamp project," Steller said in a lower voice. "If we fail to win this contract, our shareholders will suffer immense losses. Actually, the £8,000 figure is negotiable."
The £8,000 was the bribe amount Steller had promised Mordaunt—200,000 francs, still well below the ceiling amount authorized by the Prince.
This "Lightning Coal Mining Company" was a firm established in Britain with Dupont's assistance. After completing all the necessary formalities and injecting tens of thousands of pounds as capital, it was set up specifically to win the London gas street lamp project.
For now, the company's nominal owner was a Scottish friend of Dupont's, while its manager, Steller, had been recommended by the French Minister of Commerce.
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