The Fox of France - Chapter 265: The Palace of Peace

Surrounding the grand “Temple of a Thousand Gods” was a spacious square. Just like the road leading here, the ground of this square was also paved with cement, embedded with colorful pebbles, forming intricate patterns. Most of these images depicted themes from ancient Greece and Rome, such as Hercules and the Muses, the Shepherd Prince and the Three Graces, Minerva and the owl, as well as Augustus and Cleopatra.

On this square, several iron frames were erected, each covered with oiled canvas – these were likely the “semi-open” exhibition booths. The exhibition had not officially begun, but many people were already bustling about.

Watt looked around and noticed two small houses at the entrance of the square, both of them adorned with signs in French, German, Italian, Russian, and English. They all read the same: “Exhibitor Reception.” The only difference was that one of the small houses was labeled “Palace of Peace,” and the other was labeled “Square.”

“Mr. Watt, according to the exhibition guidelines, we should register at the reception, and the staff will then lead us to our booth,” William Murdoch pulled out a small notebook, flipped through it, and then addressed Watt.

“All right, let’s go over there,” Watt waved his cane and replied.

So, the group of them headed toward the “Palace of Peace” reception. As they reached the entrance, a waiter approached.

“Gentlemen, are you here to exhibit?” The waiter asked in a polite manner, accompanied by a smile.

“Yes, we have invitations,” William Murdoch replied. In this era, French was a widely spoken language, and while William Murdoch could converse in it, his spoken French was a bit rough.

“Which country are you from, sir?” the waiter inquired.

“We’re from England,” William Murdoch said.

“On behalf of France, welcome, gentlemen. Please follow me,” the waiter immediately switched to English and said, “Please come with us.”

The group followed him into the small house. Inside, there was a long table with an official seated behind it. The waiter brought William Murdoch over and said, “These gentlemen are guests from England.”

William Murdoch handed over the invitation letter to the official, who glanced at it, nodded, and then picked up a nearby stamp. He stamped the invitation and handed William Murdoch a small pouch with a smile.

“Your booth is at position number eight. Here are some instructions for exhibitors. You can go through them to get an understanding,” the official said in English.

William Murdoch took the pouch and asked, “Can I go see our booth and make some preparations?”

“Pierre, who brought you here, will guide you. If you have any questions, you can ask him directly,” the official replied.

“Thank you,” William Murdoch said, and the group followed Pierre toward the large “Temple of a Thousand Gods” named the “Palace of Peace.”

“Gentlemen, this is the main venue of the event, the ‘Palace of Peace.’ As you can see, it’s modeled after the ‘Temple of a Thousand Gods,’ but it’s even larger. It’s called the ‘Palace of Peace’ because of the inscription on the main gate,” Pierre pointed at the Latin inscription on the lintel but explained in English, “‘Free trade is the guarantee of world peace.’ Well, that’s a quote from the First Consul, Mr. Napoleon Bonaparte.”

“Very nice,” Watt nodded. “I quite like that quote.”

“Watt, my good sir,” Pierre chimed in with a smile, “We’re all trade-minded folks here, and who doesn’t love ‘free trade’?”

As they chatted, Pierre led the group into the “Palace of Peace.” Just like the Temple of a Thousand Gods, the enormous hall inside had not a single column. However, this hall was even larger than the one in the Temple.

Watt was an engineer, although not a structural engineer, he was aware that supporting such a massive dome without columns was a technical marvel.

Just like the Temple of a Thousand Gods, there was a large skylight in the center of the dome, but it was even larger and equipped with glass. Thanks to this skylight and the vast floor-to-ceiling glass windows surrounding the hall, the interior was well-lit, brighter even than most houses.

Watt lifted his head to examine the dome and its support structure, calculating its weight.

In general, creating a massive dome without columns was a challenge in engineering. Architectural history had examples like the Gothic cathedrals, which utilized flying buttresses to distribute the dome’s weight to nearby load-bearing walls. However, these load-bearing walls were subject to considerable pressure. Thus, such structures often featured support structures outside the main walls. But when they entered the hall earlier, they didn’t see such external structures.

Of course, the dome of the Temple of a Thousand Gods didn’t follow this pattern; it was cast as a single, solid piece using concrete. But this dome was significantly larger than the one in the Temple. So, how was it supported?

Seemingly sensing Watt’s curiosity, Pierre explained, “Mr. Watt, you’ve surely noticed the vastness of this hall. Its diameter is a whopping sixty meters, much larger than the famous Temple of a Thousand Gods. Yet, like the Temple, it lacks a single column inside. That’s because the entire dome employs a state-of-the-art construction technology – steel-reinforced concrete. The entire dome is constructed as a single unit, welded from high-quality steel and then coated with concrete. Both the steel and the concrete, as you move toward the center, become progressively thinner. Steel provides significantly higher strength than other materials, making the entire dome much lighter than similar structures.”

Pierre’s explanation confirmed Watt’s suspicions – the dome was indeed supported by steel.

“Not only the dome, but the walls and the outer columns are also built using steel-reinforced concrete. This ‘Palace of Peace,’ though designed in a Greco-Roman style, boasts the latest modern technology at its core,” Pierre proudly introduced.

“How much good steel does this require? Can we buy some and use it to make advanced steam engines?” Watt couldn’t help but wonder. “But it seems that the French have a vast steel production capacity.”

“Young man, where is our booth?” Even though he was “Little Bolton,” he was well into his fifties, and he had more than enough years on Pierre to address him as a “young man.”

“Ah, please follow me,” inside the hall, spaces were partitioned with wooden boards. Those closest to the center had the most significant spaces and the best lighting, while Watt and his group’s booth was slightly off-center but still highly visible.

“Here it is, Mr. Watt, Mr. Bolton,” Pierre led them to the designated spot. “This space belongs to your esteemed company during the exhibition. You may arrange it as you wish, but please ensure you abide by the regulations outlined in the ‘Exhibition Guidelines’ document I provided earlier. Do you need any further explanation?”

“No, no need,” Little Bolton shook his head. “We have a copy of the document from our embassy in your country. Besides, ‘The London Tradesman’ newspaper has published authoritative explanations. We are quite well-informed.”

Having said this, he looked around at their surroundings and asked, “May I inquire about the companies occupying the central positions?”

“The central positions are all held by military-industrial conglomerates, such as Lorraine Steel, Citadel Cement, and the Bonaparte Armory,” Pierre replied.