Chapter 187: Panic and Countermeasures
"Darling, is it all nailed down?"
His wife's voice jolted Gaizka from his thoughts. He quickly called out from under the eaves, "Oh, it's all done, we can start laying the thatch."
He glanced at the scar on his wife's forehead, a wound from the hailstorm when a splinter of wood from the broken roof had gashed her. Fortunately, the cut wasn't deep; she and the children had hidden under the dining table and narrowly escaped.
Madame Gaizka tied a large bundle of thatch with a rope, watching her husband pull it onto the roof and spread it out little by little.
By noon, the Gaizka family's roof had finally been mostly restored to its original state.
Gaizka wiped the sweat from his brow as he entered the house, only to see his wife emerge from the inner room, placing a plate with a large chip missing on the table—it was the most intact plate they had left—and smilingly inviting him, "You must be tired, come eat something."
Gaizka casually ate a few spoonfuls of mixed vegetable soup with bread, then pushed the plate away. "Save this for dinner. I'll go check the fields again, see if there's anything else we can salvage."
Wheat was still over half a month away from ripening, but many green kernels had already formed. Though they were now mixed with mud after the hailstorm, some could still be retrieved.
He had to salvage every single grain! Because after this complete crop failure, his family's stored food would only last three months, and as a tenant farmer, he still hadn't paid his rent to Vicomte Colbert.
He suddenly made the sign of the cross over his chest, thinking, 'Thank you, merciful Crown Prince. May God bless you and grant you a long life!'
If not for the Crown Prince helping him clear his previous debts, this crop failure would most likely have ruined his family...
He stepped outside. Just a few paces away, he heard a child crying from the nearby Geoffroy home, faintly discerning the child's cries of "hungry."
Madame Gaizka heard the sound and followed him out. She exchanged a glance with her husband and said, "There's still some of the green wheat kernels we cooked last night, should we..."
Gaizka nodded.
Geoffroy had contracted lung disease earlier in the year, leaving his family destitute. After this disaster, their ruin was sealed.
Gaizka took the cracked bowl his wife handed him. Seeing a slice of dark bread on top of the cooked wheat kernels, he said nothing, but carried it over to his neighbor's house.
Geoffroy's wife accepted the food with trembling hands, thanking him repeatedly, while her three gaunt children eagerly gathered around, snatching the food and stuffing it into their mouths.
Gaizka paused for a moment before managing to ask, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, nothing else..." Madame Geoffroy returned the empty, cracked bowl to Gaizka, lowering her head and hesitating to speak. "This food has already helped so much."
She knew that while her neighbors were getting by, they certainly couldn't afford to help them constantly.
She still had less than half a bag of crushed wheat under her table; even if she rationed it, it would only last half a month at most. As for livestock, they had all been slaughtered and eaten last year. In other words, in half a month, her only option would be to take her entire family to the city to beg.
Indeed, given her family's circumstances, even usurious loans would be out of reach.
Gaizka sighed, about to turn and leave, when Father Marmont from the parish walked in, somewhat agitated, and said to Madame Geoffroy, "God be praised, you can now apply for a 'bread loan'!"
The village woman paused, curtsied first, then quickly asked, "Reverend Father, what is a 'bread loan'?"
"His Majesty the King, to help families like yours, has arranged for the parish bank to lend to you," Father Marmont explained. "Go to the church first, fill out an application there, and starting next month, you'll receive a loan of 4 livres each month, or the equivalent in grain. The interest is only six percent."
"Hurry, go now. I still need to inform the Joulians."
He turned, walked two steps, then quickly looked back and added, "Oh, that's right, your family probably hasn't secured seeds for replanting yet, have you?
"Then remember to also apply for government relief seeds. They're only potatoes, though.
"Actually, they taste quite good, certainly better than starving, right? And there's no interest; you just repay what you borrowed at the end of the year."
After Father Marmont and Gaizka left, Madame Geoffroy's eyes suddenly reddened. She knew that even though it was only 4 livres a month, it would be just enough to keep her family alive!
She took a deep breath, turned and called her three children, instructing them to kneel with her. With a trembling voice, she said, "Thank you, Your Majesty the King, thank you for your benevolence! Thank God! We are saved..."
She rose to her feet under the children's bewildered gaze, turned her face, wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, and hurried towards the parish church as quickly as she could.
Situations like that of the Geoffroy family were playing out in villages across France.
Thanks to Joseph's preparations months in advance, although the terrifying natural disaster arrived as scheduled, France did not descend into the hellish conditions seen in historical accounts.
If families like Geoffroy's went bankrupt, they would have no choice but to flood into the cities to beg, with most of them becoming the core force behind the future Great Revolution. There were millions of such families across France!
At the same time, cities would gain millions of mouths to feed, which would immediately drive up bread prices significantly, making it unaffordable for urban residents too. Historically, after the hailstorm, bread prices in Paris quickly doubled, becoming a direct trigger for the Great Revolution.
But now, first came the steam engines to the countryside, helping drought-stricken farmlands, which would have yielded nothing, to achieve some harvest. Although it was only green wheat, and only about thirty percent of a normal yield, it was still better than nothing.
Furthermore, for provinces that had extensively cultivated potatoes, the impact of the hailstorm was very limited. Especially in the south, where potatoes were largely mature, farmers only needed to dig them out of the ground after the hail to secure their food supply for the latter half of the year.
At the same time, Joseph's "parish micro-banks," established earlier to help rural areas purchase steam engines, played an unexpected role this time.
Because now he wielded the powerful tool of the Banque de France.
After the disaster struck, Joseph and his cabinet deliberated and decided that the Banque de France would directly provide loans to the parish banks, which would then disburse them to impoverished farmers, ensuring that those affected by the disaster would not starve.
This model of large-scale government-funded disaster relief was unheard of in the eighteenth century. In reality, such relief wouldn't cost an exorbitant amount—nearly 4 million livres per month, totaling 12 million to 14 million before the autumn harvest—and in return, it would secure stability among the lower classes throughout France.
For a nation, chaos is always a severe drain.
It not only drains money but also depletes the nation's foundation and development prospects, eroding public confidence in the state. These are things that cannot be bought back with any amount of money.
Historically, after the chaos of the French Revolution, it took over a decade for the nation to gradually return to normal and restart its development. This was even with Emperor Napoleon, a figure capable of turning the tide; otherwise, it likely would have taken another ten years.
Moreover, Joseph had additional plans for the 12 million livres allocated for disaster relief: he intended to use it to accelerate the circulation of paper currency.
The Banque de France would officially issue paper currency starting next month, and all loans disbursed by the parish banks from the Banque de France would be in paper notes.
Of course, to ensure stability in rural areas, for the first two months, the Banque de France would also transport an equivalent value in silver coins to each parish, allowing farmers to exchange their paper notes at any time.
Once people grew accustomed to and developed a certain trust in paper currency, the amount of silver coin distribution would gradually be reduced.
According to Joseph's plan, the initial issuance of paper currency would be 50 million livres, with a 5% over-issuance. This meant the Banque de France had actually prepared 47.5 million livres in silver coins.
Such a small proportion of over-issuance would have no impact on the nation's finances. In fact, moderate inflation is beneficial for economic development.
Therefore, the funds required for disaster relief could essentially be covered by the over-issued portion of the currency, assuming a total paper currency issuance of 200 million livres.
However, Joseph also deeply understood the importance of currency stability, especially in the initial stages of paper money. Reckless over-issuance was absolutely forbidden, or it would surely backfire. The core reason the Pound Sterling paper currency had remained strong and gradually gained acceptance across Europe was its remarkable stability.
In this transitional period from gold and silver coins to paper currency, the gold standard was the most suitable monetary policy, which also dictated against excessive over-issuance of paper notes.
...
In large cities like Paris, people were entirely oblivious to the despair of the farmers. The impact of the drought and hailstorm on them, beyond repairing damaged buildings and public facilities, was primarily reflected in the price of bread.
As news of widespread crop failures across the country gradually reached Paris, bread prices immediately began to rise, driven by public panic, even though there were no signs of actual food shortages.
The price of bread in Paris was always the French cabinet's most critical concern, without exception. Because every time Parisian citizens had an issue with bread prices, it meant an uprising was imminent!
Versailles Palace.
"So, many nobles are protesting these regulations?"
Joseph turned the pages of the "Mill Owner's Obligation Act" in his hands, looking at Brienne before him.
The Minister of Finance nodded somewhat helplessly. "You know, the milling tax is a significant source of income for those people. Although the bill only posited hypothetical situations, they are still very resistant."
This was a bill Joseph had submitted last month, but it had yet to pass.
Its main content was: mill owners were obligated to meticulously maintain the mill in proper working order, and if a mill could not be used for two consecutive months, its parish would have the right to construct a new public mill.
Joseph pondered for a moment, then changed a word on the document, transforming it into the "Mill Owner's Rights Act."
"This way, first describe the traditional milling rights in detail, and let the obligations section occupy only half a page at the very end. That should keep everyone happy."
Currently, mill owners' rights were passed down according to medieval customs, with no specific written laws, yet secular power was as firm as a rock, enforced everywhere, and even courts would rule based on it.
So Joseph directly wrote these into law, seemingly endorsing the nobles, though the latter gained no actual benefits. The section on obligations that followed, however, was concretely added.
Brienne immediately smiled. "Your Highness, I imagine they will certainly be eager for the bill to pass quickly this way."
As the two spoke, a treasury official knocked and entered, bowing hastily to them before urgently reporting:
"Your Highness, Archbishop, news just in from Paris: bread prices have risen to 8 sous and 7 deniers per 4 pounds."
Hearing this, Brienne's expression immediately turned serious. "A rise of 7 deniers in just two days?"
"It appears so."
"These scoundrels!" Brienne rose to his feet. "Immediately send people to thoroughly investigate all bakeries. Any who dare to hoard or secretly raise prices will be arrested at once!"
Currently, Paris's bread price control decree was that strict; anyone who dared to raise prices, even by just 1 denier, would have their shop owner immediately arrested.
Joseph asked, somewhat puzzled, "Archbishop Brienne, since the hailstorm, the government has been emphasizing price controls daily, and even the police are helping to monitor. Why do people still dare to raise prices?"
"You see, Your Highness," Brienne sighed, "those unscrupulous bakers, they'll openly sell at the regulated price, but covertly they'll use various methods to raise prices indirectly."
"For instance, they'll only sell 40 pounds of normal-priced bread each day, then declare themselves sold out. Anyone who wants to buy bread then has to go to the back kitchen of the shop and pay a 'query fee' to get it."
"Or they'll bundle items, putting a pea-sized dab of jam on a loaf and calling it 'jam bread,' raising the price by a few deniers."
Joseph raised an eyebrow and said, "In that case, sending more people to inspect won't be very effective.
"I think it's better to use the emergency food reserves to stabilize prices while the upward trend isn't too pronounced."
Brienne shook his head. "Your Highness, the market currently has ample grain; there's no need for that yet.
"You see, those unscrupulous merchants, upon learning of a poor harvest, will hoard grain like mad, waiting to sell at high prices. So, most of the grain released into the market now would simply be bought up by them."
Joseph smiled, looking confident:
"Archbishop Brienne, how could you forget? We now possess the 'weapon' of identity cards."
"Identity cards?"
"Yes. First, establish 'ticket distribution points' across Paris. Anyone can collect one food ticket per day with their identity card."
"Meanwhile, the reserve granaries will sell grain at regulated prices, but a food ticket will be required for purchase. Each ticket allows for the purchase of grain equivalent to two pounds of bread per day and cannot be used on subsequent days."
"Those grain merchants themselves only have one identity card each, making it impossible for them to hoard large quantities of reserve grain."
Brienne had previously been unaccustomed to the concept of identity cards. Hearing the Crown Prince's explanation, his eyes immediately lit up. 'No wonder you insisted on giving each identity card a different serial number back then—so this is how it can be used!'
He quickly summoned several subordinates, explained Joseph's method to them, and instructed them to act immediately.
Joseph thought for a moment, then added:
"The current rise in bread prices is largely panic-driven. Therefore, we must try our best to divert the public's attention, making them focus less on the food issue."
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