novelSusiti Chapter 103 Vanderbilt Enters the Game
Chapter 103 Vanderbilt Enters the Game
Chapter 103 Vanderbilt Enters the Game
Rong Hong, who was following behind, asked in surprise, "Qianyi, you can recognize this?"
Hong Ren pointed at the coal and said, "The coal in Hunan and Jiangxi is mostly bituminous coal, which is softer and dark black. Shanxi coal, on the other hand, is anthracite, hard as stone. How could this, so soft, be Shanxi coal?"
"You're an expert."
The middle-aged man in the blue cloth jacket grinned, not at all impatient, and said with a smile, "It really is from Hunan. Would you two like some? I'll give you a fair price. How about five silver dollars a ton of coal?"
Hong Rengan waved his hand: "No rush, let's go check out other places first."
After saying that, he continued walking forward.
Hongwu and Rong Hong followed behind him, listening to him say, "These are all places that sell loose coal. If you go any further, go to the Zhejiang-Shaoxing Guild Hall at the North Gate of Shanghai County. That's where Shanghai coal merchants regularly trade."
"Are they selling anthracite?" Hongwu asked.
"There are several."
Hong Rengan nodded and said, "The coal I used on the cargo ship that returned to Hong Kong last year was bought from the North Gate area, but the price was a bit higher."
He paused, then asked, "By the way, Mr. Hong, have you made any progress regarding the Yangtze River navigation map? If not, I know a high-ranking missionary here who can help you."
"Oh? That would be perfect."
Hongwu's eyes lit up, and he asked, "Who is that person?"
Hong Ren uttered a name: "Mr. Medhurst, Director of the British Concession Municipal Council and missionary of the London Missionary Society."
Upon hearing the name, Yung Wing paused slightly, "Medhurst? The Medhurst who translated the Bible?"
"It's him."
Hong Rengan nodded and said, "Mr. Medhurst has lived in Shanghai for more than ten years and knows the situation along the Yangtze River better than anyone else. When I visited him last year, I saw in his study not only navigational maps surveyed by the British Navy, but also his own private maps drawn during his years of missionary work along the river."
The three walked along the dirt road for about half an hour before stopping in front of a courtyard.
"arrive."
Hongwu looked up and saw a plaque hanging above the door with four large characters: Zhejiang-Shaoxing Public Office.
The gate was open, revealing a fairly large courtyard. Several mule carts were parked in the courtyard, piled high with sacks, and several workers were unloading the goods.
On the north side of the courtyard was a row of side rooms, with many shop signs hanging at their entrances: Hengshun Coal, Yongchang Coal Shop, Datong Foreign Goods —
Hong Rengan led the two men straight to the door of the innermost room, where a wooden plaque hung above the door, engraved with the three characters "Jinfeng Coal Company".
"This shop sells smokeless coal." Hong Rengan raised his hand and knocked on the door.
"Please come in," came the voice of a middle-aged man from inside.
The three people pushed open the door and entered.
The room was small, with a long table, a few chairs, and several coal sample charts hanging on the wall. Behind the table sat a man in his forties, wearing a gray-blue long gown, with a mustache and a shrewd face.
"Are you gentlemen here to buy coal?" The man stood up and bowed.
Hong Rengan returned the greeting and got straight to the point: "What's the price of Shanxi coal now?"
"Twelve silver dollars per ton."
The man quoted a price and then added, "Our coal is genuine Jincheng coal from Shanxi. It burns intensely and is very durable, far superior to the bituminous coal from Hunan."
"Twelve pieces?"
Hong Rengan shook his head and said, "Shopkeeper, last year it was ten silver dollars a ton when I bought from you. How come the price of small knives has dropped this year, and the price of coal is even higher?"
The shopkeeper gave a wry smile and said frankly, "So you're old customers. I won't hide it from you. The Small Swords Society's rebellion has been quelled, but the Taiping Rebellion hasn't. They've caused a huge disturbance in the north, cutting off more than one trade route, so prices have naturally gone up."
Hongwu said, "We want thirty tons, at a lower price."
The shopkeeper gritted his teeth and said, "Eleven yuan a ton. To be honest, this is already the cost price."
2
"Alright," Hongwu said. "Deliver it to Hongkou Wharf tomorrow, payment upon delivery."
Yung Wing asked, "Is the next step to visit Mr. Medhurst?"
"It's already noon, let's find a place to eat first and then freshen up."
Hong Rengan said, "I'll visit again first thing tomorrow morning. I'll write a note and have it sent over first, so as not to be impolite."
Meanwhile, in New York, USA.
The night was deep, the streets deserted, with only the dim glow of gaslights on street corners. But inside a manor in the Chelsea area, the lights were still on, and the sounds of a ball filled the air.
The owner of the estate raised his glass of red wine and addressed the gentlemen and ladies before him: "A toast to the magician of metal, Mr. Strauss!"
Standing beside the estate owner, Strauss smiled and said, "I also salute the generous host of this place, Mr. Soros. Without him, I would not have had the honor of meeting you all."
Everyone present raised their glasses, clinked them together in the air, and took a sip of red wine. Amidst the clinking of glasses, some whispered to each other, while others chatted and laughed quietly.
"Mr. Strauss, I remember you mentioned earlier that you wanted to build a factory in New York. Have you found a site yet?" A young man in his twenties approached, wearing a well-tailored dark suit with a neatly tied bow tie.
"Oh, I've already looked at several plots of land, but I'm still choosing." Strauss looked at the young man and politely asked, "Sir, do you have any good recommendations?"
The young man smiled slightly, a smile that carried a hint of reserve and confidence: "Mr. Strauss, are you interested in the land around the Hudson River docks?"
Strauss's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive: "Sir, you must be joking. All the land around the Hudson River docks is already owned, and the prices are sky-high. It's not a good choice."
"What if I told you I could rent or even sell you a piece at a low price?"
The young man put down his glass and pulled a business card from his pocket: "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Cornelius Jeremiah Vanderbilt."
Vanderbilt?
Strauss was genuinely surprised this time. He took the business card and asked, "What is your relationship with Brigadier General Cornelius Vanderbilt?"
"I am his second son."
Cornelius Jeremiah's face clearly showed a hint of displeasure. He gave a brief explanation and then changed the subject.
"Mr. Strauss, would you be willing to cooperate?"
"Of course, I couldn't be happier."
After briefly arranging a meeting place with Cornelius Jeremiah in a few days, Strauss boarded his carriage to go home.
Inside the carriage, Dutch, who was smoking a cigar, exhaled a puff of smoke and chuckled, "How was the harvest?"
Strauss leaned back in his chair and sighed wearily, "It's alright. Quite a few people wanted to buy the stock, and I agreed."
""
"Also, I met an interesting guy who might be helpful to our plans."
Dutch became interested, sat up straight, and asked, "Who?"
"Vanderbilt's second son."
Strauss said slowly, "And there's something quite interesting: the boy clearly looked displeased when I mentioned his father's name."
"Oh?"
Dutch raised an eyebrow: "Let's gather some intelligence together when we get back. I have a feeling this is a big fish."
In the days that followed, hundreds of assassins scattered throughout New York City sprang into action.
Among them were sailors working on ships, printers doing typesetting at newspapers, tavern helpers, and bank clerks—
These people are scattered throughout every corner of New York, inconspicuous on the surface, but their intelligence-gathering skills surpass those of any detective.
On the evening of the third day, a thick file was already placed on Dutch's desk.
"Cornells Vanderbilt, nicknamed 'Captain' Commodore."
Dutch opened the file and read aloud its contents. "Sixty-one years old this year, made his fortune in shipping, now owns hundreds of steamships, with a net worth of over twenty million US dollars, making him one of the richest people in the United States."
"7
"Eldest son, William Henry Vanderbilt, thirty-four years old, the designated heir of old Vanderbilt. He runs a farm on Staten Island, which is very profitable, and is therefore a great favorite of old Vanderbilt."
"The second son, Cornelius Jeremiah Vanderbilt, is twenty-five years old. He suffers from epilepsy and has occasional seizures, so he is neglected and allowed to run wild outside, leading to a strained relationship between father and son."
Hosea exclaimed, "Wow, classic tactic of favoring the eldest son and abandoning the younger one. I remember that primogeniture in the United States was completely abolished after 1790. I didn't expect old Vanderbilt to still be playing this game."
Dutch grinned: "No wonder he took the initiative to approach Strauss. He was unwilling to be abandoned and wanted to make a name for himself to prove himself to old Vanderbilt."
"However, his career doesn't seem to be going very well."
Hosea flipped through the file, his expression growing increasingly strange: "Cornellils Jeremiah previously ran a shipping company, co-owned an iron mine, and invested in several railroads."
"The shipping company was squeezed out by my father's fleet, the iron ore veins were quickly depleted, and the railroad stock also fell."
"That's too tragic." Dutch, who was standing to the side, laughed. "But that's perfect. The more eager someone is to prove themselves, the easier it is for them to take the bait."
Hosea frowned and said, "He's from the Vanderbilt family. Even if he's not highly regarded, he's not short of money, is he?"
"lack."
Dutch pulled a piece of paper from the file, on which Cornelius Jeremiah’s recent financial situation was written.
"Old Vanderbilt didn't give him much money, and his previous failed businesses had almost depleted his cash reserves. The reason he was so eager to cooperate with Strauss was probably to take advantage of New Continent Light Metals Company and make a quick buck."
Hosea nodded: "He has fame and status, but is unwilling to give up because he lacks money. He is indeed a good target."
Dutch said slowly, "Then let's begin. Let's lay a tight net for this big fish."
Three days later, at the Hudson River dock.
Strauss stood in an open space, in front of a two-acre plot of land.
"Mr. Strauss, what do you think of this piece of land?"
Cornelius Jeremiah stood beside him, pointing to the open space ahead, his tone tinged with a hint of smugness.
"The best location for the Hudson River dock is right next to the railroad freight yard, so ships can berth and unload directly. If you build your factory here, you can save a lot on transportation costs."
Strauss looked around and nodded in satisfaction. "Indeed, quite good. Mr. Jeremiah, how much do you intend to lease this land?"
Cornelius Jeremiah waved his hand: "Rent? Mr. Strauss, I told you, I can sell it to you."
"Sell?"
Strauss looked surprised. "This land is worth at least $40,000. Mr. Jeremiah, are you sure?"
Cornelius Jeremiah's face showed a fleeting awkwardness, but he quickly regained his composure: "Thirty-five thousand. I only want thirty-five thousand dollars, and the land is yours."
"A reasonable price."
Strauss pondered for a moment, then said, "Mr. Jeremiah, this is no small sum. I wonder if you would be willing to accept another form of cooperation?"
He took a document out of his pocket and handed it to Cornelius Jeremiah.
Cornelius Jeremiah took the document, glanced at it, and his pupils contracted slightly.
That was an equity transfer agreement.
New Continent Light Metals Development Corporation transferred one thousand shares, or one-tenth of the total share capital, to Cornelius Jeremiah Vanderbilt.
At the current price of $39 per share, that's $39,000.
But he knew that this was definitely not the final price of the stock.
Because Strauss recently opened a jewelry store in New York, specializing in precious gold, silver, and aluminum jewelry with extremely beautiful designs, many upper-class ladies have visited the store, and even his mother bought several necklaces and bracelets.
He took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Strauss, I accept this condition."
"That's great." Strauss extended his hand. "Happy deal."
Happy transaction.
Since the construction of the 27-kilometer-long Stockton-Darlington railway in Britain in 1825, this efficient, fast, and low-cost mode of transportation has become one of the most important ways for countries around the world to demonstrate their national strength and power projection capabilities.
Thirty years later, the total length of railways in the British Empire has exceeded 10,000 kilometers, while the United States has exceeded 20,000 kilometers, making it the world's longest railway network.
But this is far from the limit.
Even today, the vast Midwest of the United States has few railways. From Chicago to St. Louis, from the East to the West, large swathes of land are still not connected by rail.
It can be said that the railway industry has a very promising future.
Vanderbilt the Elder, not wanting to be outdone, set his sights on this lucrative opportunity.
Staten Island, Vanderbilt Estate.
This is a vast estate with lawns trimmed as smooth as carpets, flowerbeds filled with roses and tulips, and stables and barns in the distance.
The main building is a three-story brick and stone building with several white columns standing on the porch, giving it an impressive appearance.
Old Vanderbilt was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper in the restaurant, pondering whether or not to buy the railroad from New York to Harlem.
He's already reached the pinnacle of shipping in the US, so switching to another industry wouldn't be a bad idea.
Suddenly, a light, cheerful humming came from the doorway, interrupting his thoughts.
"IcomefromAlabamawithmybanjoonmyknee."
"(I come from Alabama, and I've brought my beloved five-stringed guitar)"
"I'm going to Louisiana, my true love for to see
(I need to get to Louisiana to find my lover)
Old Vanderbilt's face grew darker with each listen, and he finally slammed his hand on the table: "Enough! What kind of rubbish is this?!"
Cornelius Jeremiah, who had just entered, was startled, shrank back, and stammered, "Father."
Old Vanderbilt snorted, slammed the newspaper on the table, and glared at his good-for-nothing son.
"You're from the Vanderbilt family. I don't expect you to catch up with your brother, but your artistic taste needs improvement. Singing this kind of song just makes you seem uncultured and tasteless! Do you think this is a sailor's tavern on the docks?"
It's happening again! It's happening again!
Cornelius Jeremiah lowered his head, gritted his teeth, and anger welled up within him.
No matter what he does, it seems he is inherently inferior to his elder brother, even though I am also your son!
But in the end, he only dared to say one sentence: "I understand, Father."