With the invention of a better steam engine, the Imperial Dynamics System launched its first commercial line of machines in the summer of 1779.
Phillip and Henry had spent the year refining the prototype into a production model. The boiler seams were stronger, the pistons smoother, and the governor more reliable. By spring, the Shropshire yard had completed six working units, each producing around twenty horsepower.
The first customers were mining companies. Coal pits in Wales and the Midlands signed contracts for engines that could pump water from flooded shafts. Each engine sold for £300, including installation and training for operators. Four engines went to mines before autumn, and reports soon returned that they cleared shafts three times faster than hand pumps or horse gins.
The second wave of buyers were textile companies. Cotton mills along the Severn and in Manchester wanted independence from waterwheels. By late 1779, Imperial Dynamics had delivered three engines to mills, each driving dozens of looms through line shafts and belts. These contracts fetched £400 apiece, since they required larger boilers and extra fittings.
The third market was workshops. Phillip designed smaller engines of five to ten horsepower, priced at £150 each. Machinists who once relied on treadles or horses now powered lathes, milling machines, and drills with steam. Orders came quickly—ten units sold in the first year alone.
By December 1779, Imperial Dynamics had sold:
4 mining engines at £300 = £1,200
3 textile engines at £400 = £1,200
10 workshop engines at £150 = £1,500
Total revenue in the first year: £3,900
Expenses remained significant—coal, steel, wages for nearly 80 workers, and construction of new workshops. Phillip calculated that costs reached about £2,000. Even so, the company cleared £1,900 profit in its very first year of operations.
Phillip's personal wealth grew quickly. His steel sales had already returned more than £1,200 from the Arkwright contract earlier that year. Adding the new profits, plus smaller side orders of steel ingots and fittings, his accounts in 1779 stood at:
Inherited capital invested: £5,000
Profits from steel sales: £1,250
Profits from steam engines: £1,900
Side orders (steel bars, gears, shafts): £850
Phillip's net worth by the end of 1779: approximately £9,000.
Still, it's not a multi-billion dollar company just yet. After all, they just started, and it has been a year. People in this era don't yet grasp the potential of steam engines and how it will be integrated in their everyday lives.
Patience is a virtue in every business. That's the line he always remembered from his business partner who was the CEO of the company he had been working for in his previous life.
Of course, to protect his invention, Phillip had applied for patents. He filed them not only for the Bessemer converter but also for his design of the improved steam engine. With his father's influence as Duke of Wellington, the petitions moved swiftly through the channels in London. By the winter of 1779, the name Imperial Dynamics System was printed on the official records of the patent office.
That single act gave him security. No rival could legally copy his machines without facing fines or losing contracts. It also gave him prestige—his engines were now recognized as original inventions of record, not just clever modifications.
By early 1780, word of the company had spread beyond Shropshire. Phillip began receiving letters sealed with the marks of noblemen, merchants, and landowners. A baron in Cornwall asked for a pumping engine to drain his tin mines. A consortium of Manchester mill owners wanted several large engines to power a new spinning hall. Even a shipbuilder in Portsmouth inquired whether steam could be used to haul timber and run saws.
By spring of 1780, Imperial Dynamics System had outgrown its beginnings. The yard in Shropshire bustled with over a hundred men now—smiths, fitters, machinists, and apprentices. Two new workshops had been added, one for boiler assembly and another for machining pistons and valves. Henry Carter, Phillip's technical assistant, ran the daily operations with a sharp eye and a sharper tongue, keeping the men in order while Phillip dealt with designs and contracts.
The letters that had come earlier in the year quickly turned into formal agreements.
The baron in Cornwall signed for two pumping engines at £350 each, larger models capable of working deep tin shafts where water was a constant enemy. The engines were shipped in parts and reassembled on site, earning Phillip another £700.
In Manchester, the consortium of mill owners wanted nothing less than a revolution for their spinning hall. They ordered five textile engines at £400 apiece, paying a staggering £2,000 in total. The installation took months, but once running, the mills produced cloth faster than ever before, unaffected by dry seasons or frozen rivers.
The Portsmouth shipbuilder was another kind of customer altogether. He commissioned three workshop engines at £200 each, adapted to drive saws and cranes in his timber yard. Total: £600. He also hinted at future orders if steam could be applied to winches aboard ships—a thought Phillip tucked away for later.
By autumn of 1780, the sales ledger read:
2 mining engines → £700
5 textile engines → £2,000
3 workshop engines → £600
Side orders (steel bars, spare parts, fittings) → £1,100
Total revenue for 1780: £4,400
Expenses had risen too. With 120 workers on payroll, coal and ore costs climbing, and constant construction of new workshops, the outlay reached nearly £2,300. But the profit was undeniable: £2,100 for the year.
Yes, there had been major progress, but Phillip knew it wasn't enough. Profit of £2,100 was respectable for 1780, but if he wanted Imperial Dynamics to dominate, he needed scale—bigger furnaces, larger workshops, more men, and even a second yard closer to the ports.
And that meant capital.
The £9,000 he held in personal wealth, while impressive, could not cover the rapid expansion he envisioned. Orders were growing faster than production, and if he delayed, rivals in Birmingham or even abroad might begin tinkering with their own designs.
Phillip sat in his office one evening, ledgers spread before him. Henry had left for the night, the yard quiet except for the distant hiss of cooling boilers. Phillip tapped his quill against the margin.
"£15,000," he muttered. That was the figure he needed to secure new land, build larger assembly halls, and hire another hundred men. With that, he could double output within two years and corner the market before anyone else caught up.
There was only one man who could provide such backing: his father, the Duke of Wellington.
Phillip closed the ledger with a firm snap. The numbers were proof, but now he needed to convince the Duke that Imperial Dynamics was no passing venture—it was the future.