novelraw Chapter 234: Market Order
Chapter 234: Market Order
In late May, the textile workshop funded by the Tyne Wool Merchants' Guild produced its first batch of woolen cloth.
In Harry's eyes, making money was important, but earning the King's favor was absolutely paramount.
He strictly followed the King's instructions, recruiting two hundred employees to open the textile workshop. From washing and carding the wool to spinning and weaving, as well as the subsequent bleaching and tailoring, every step was completed entirely within the workshop.
In contrast, the other two competing guilds chose to outsource some of their processes to save on investment costs. The price of their frugality was wildly inconsistent product quality.
Observing the products of the three guilds, there was no doubt that Harry's goods were the finest. The only pity was that high-end items like dyed cloth made up a relatively small portion of his inventory.
In the markets of Britain, indigo and yellow fabrics were quite common, fetching two to three times the price of unbleached cloth. Locally grown woad provided the indigo dye, while weld supplied the yellow.
The dye for red cloth came from madder root. It was staggeringly expensive, placing it firmly in the category of high-end luxury goods.
As for purple cloth, its dye was sourced from a specific type of murex sea snail found in the Mediterranean Sea. The secretions of tens of thousands of these snails had to be gathered just to extract a single gram of dye. Dyeing a single Roman toga meant sacrificing over two hundred thousand of them. The extravagance of purple garments was beyond the imagination of the common populace; only the imperial family of the Eastern Roman Empire could afford such luxury.
Previously, when Gunnar had marched into Londinium as a conqueror, that pure purple cloak draped over his shoulders marked the first time the vast majority of commoners had ever laid eyes on a purple textile.
Inspecting the samples brought by the merchants one by one, Wigg asked, "How are the profit margins? Can we expand production capacity further?"Harry squeezed out a remarkably confident smile. "Once this batch of goods is sold, I will immediately purchase the land near the textile workshop and continue to expand. I have also persuaded those two dyers to take on more apprentices. In a short while, the output of blue and yellow cloth will rise. As for the red cloth and dyed cloth with complex patterns, well, that might be a bit more troublesome."
Wigg replied casually, "There is no rush. Use the mid-to-low-end products to seize the market and secure enough profit, then push into the high-end sector. The academy is currently developing a water-powered spinning machine and a loom. They will be put into actual production within two years. Relying on these advanced apparatuses, you are destined to defeat your counterparts from Flandre in this competition."
To boost the merchant's enthusiasm, he tossed out an additional piece of good news, promising to admit all three of Harry's grandsons into the Royal Court Academy.
"Keep up the good work. Perhaps one day I will ennoble one of them, making him a true noble."
Under Harry's leading example, the remaining two guilds eagerly expanded their own production scales. Leonard of Mancunium caught wind of the news, and since he happened to have surplus funds on hand, he wrote a letter inquiring with Wigg, attempting to acquire those same textile machines.
Wigg was immensely surprised that a vassal would proactively venture into the textile industry. He directly granted him the usage rights to the Spinning Jenny, making only one demand: the payment of an annual patent usage fee.
Encouraged by the King, Britain's textile production capacity exploded. Massive textile workshops sprang up across Teyne Town, York, Mancunium, and Londinium. The news of this boom swiftly spread to Flandre, quickly sparking concern among the relevant tradesmen.
In early August, an envoy from Bruges arrived in Londinium.
Nearly a year had passed since the war, yet the city had still not fully recovered its vitality. Observing the number of ships moored in the harbor and the flow of foot traffic on the streets, the envoy estimated the population to be a mere three thousand.
Upon entering the city, the envoy headed to visit a textile workshop. The factory buildings here were still under construction. Enduring the pervasive dust, he looked all around but failed to find the mysterious textile machinery he had anticipated. Instead, he only managed to get himself thoroughly covered in dirt.
Left with no other option, he proceeded to the Royal Palace, where a massive number of hired laborers were actively constructing a stone wall. The envoy stood at the entrance for half a minute. The guards, assuming this disheveled fellow was looking for work, motioned for him to go speak with the tall, burly foreman.
"You misunderstand. I am an envoy from Bruges, and I request an audience with the King."
"Bruges?" the guard revealed a look of utter bewilderment. "Is there even such a country?" "Bruges is not a country. It is a town in Flandre, belonging to West Francia."
"Got it." Having heard the explanation, the guard reported the message and, a short while later, escorted the guest into the interior of the Royal Palace.
After a thorough pat-down and a lengthy wait, the envoy entered a second-floor office. There, he saw a man dressed in black processing a towering stack of documents on his desk. Next to his left hand sat a peculiar calculating tool said to be an "abacus," which he would occasionally flick and adjust.
"Your Excellency, may I ask where the King is?"
The man set down his pen and paper, replying in fluent Latin, "I am Wigg of Teyne. Spit it out quickly, do not waste the time of the people waiting behind you."
The envoy looked slightly taken aback before quickly composing his expression. Representing the textile industry of Bruges, he asked, "Your Majesty, rumors outside claim that you used magic to create an apparatus capable of spinning yarn automatically. Is there any truth to this?"
The literacy rate in the Middle Ages was abysmally low, and the populace always loved to mystify the unknown. Wigg felt utterly helpless about it and responded with a hint of irritation.
"Yes, we indeed have textile machinery. And those textile workshops will only increase in number, not decrease. Do you have any other questions?"
Staring at that completely unabashed expression, the envoy was left speechless. This pagan King had evidently made up his mind to reap a massive fortune, and absolutely no one could stop him.
Over the following week or so, envoys from Ghent and Antwerp arrived one after another, hoping the King would retract his orders and respect the long-standing market order. The result was that they were all unceremoniously chased out by Wigg.
"Order? Rules? As a King, why on earth should I abide by your rules?"
Britain's development of its textile industry was bound to impact the interests of Flandre. The conflict between the two sides was irreconcilable. Wigg could not be bothered to placate these envoys and simply continued encouraging the construction of new textile workshops across the country.
At the current rate of development, assuming the water-powered spinning machines and water-powered looms were put to use, the textile industry's production capacity would comfortably meet domestic demand within five years.
"Britain has a population of over two million. Add in the markets of Northern Europe and Eastern Europe, and it's more than enough. Even if we are blockaded by the Franks, it will not matter in the slightest."
At that moment, an attending official who had come to deliver documents overheard the King's self-murmurings and suddenly had another idea. "Your Majesty, the surplus textiles would be perfectly suited to be sold to Iberia. That region is far wealthier, and their purchasing power vastly exceeds that of the impoverished peasants in Northern Europe and Eastern Europe."
"Iberia?"
Wigg tapped his left index finger against the desktop, his interest piqued by the proposal. The trouble was that the turbulent environment of the past few years had completely scared off the Berber merchants in Londinium, and they would not be returning anytime soon.
The official continued to suggest, "Why not dispatch the navy to proactively open up a trade route? Over a decade ago, Bjorn led several rowing longships deep into the Mediterranean Sea. Now, we have built two-masted brigantines, which have drastically improved our ocean-faring capabilities. Coupled with Bjorn's Vinland Map and the maps you have drawn yourself, we are more than capable of completing this task."