Chapter 27: Sharp Sword
Joseph chuckled to himself, 'I'll have to open a bank myself if I get the chance.'
He finished reading through the financial documents, pushed the file basket aside, rubbed his aching shoulders, and picked up the new Tax Bill to peruse.
The bill had an immense number of clauses, spanning over thirty pages.
The more Joseph read, the more he frowned. The people who drafted these bills were truly "geniuses," cramming all sorts of irrelevant junk into them. Even he, with his 21st-century higher education, felt dizzy reading it. Expecting ordinary citizens to understand any of it was simply a pipe dream!
Moreover, perhaps fearing obstruction from the nobility, the drafters intentionally included some tax provisions that favored the aristocratic class but were detrimental to common folk.
They hadn't anticipated, however, that these seemingly insignificant tax provisions would become the leverage nobles used to attack the Tax Bill. Ordinary citizens couldn't grasp the intricate details of the clauses; they simply heard public opinion claiming the bill would harm their interests and joined in the opposition.
In reality, the core content of the bill was to abolish the nobles' land tax privileges, forcing them to shoulder some of the national finances.
Additionally, it stipulated the free transport and sale of grain, and the abolition of tariffs between different domestic regions, all intended to promote economic development.
This bill perfectly reflected the weakness and compromises of Louis XVI's government...
At this thought, Joseph picked up his pen and struck through every tax provision detrimental to ordinary citizens and small business owners.
'Winning over some and striking down others' was the true art of politics.
After these deletions, the bill was no longer a bargaining chip the noble class could use against the government. Instead, it became a sharp sword to attack them!
Joseph carefully reviewed it again. When he was about to give it to his assistant for re-transcription and organization, he realized it was already dusk.
'Forget it, tomorrow will do,' he stretched, tossing the bill into a drawer. He lived by the principle of not imposing on others what he wouldn't want for himself; unless it was an emergency, he wouldn't force his subordinates to work overtime.
As he stepped out of his office, he saw Eman approaching with a maid. "Your Highness, Queen Mary is hosting a card game in Mars Hall and invites you to attend."
Joseph felt a chuckle rise within him. A mother inviting her son to gamble—it felt so peculiar.
However, he knew this was a perfectly normal form of entertainment at Versailles. Even the Sun King, Louis XIV, had specifically requested such activities in his Instructions to the Crown Prince, to foster stronger bonds between monarch and ministers.
Joseph nodded. "Very well, I shall go at once."
He first returned to his chambers to change into a comfortable yet lavish suit suitable for entertainment, then followed the Queen's maid to Mars Hall.
From a distance, the lively chatter, accompanied by cheerful piano music, drifted from the grand hall. The guards at the entrance bowed to Joseph and pushed open the towering double doors.
Queen Mary, who was playing baccarat beneath a massive portrait of Louis XIV, spotted her son immediately. A radiant smile bloomed on her face as she waved.
"My dear, you've finally arrived!"
Joseph hurried over and bowed respectfully. The Queen was clearly in a good mood. "I heard you were busy with Archbishop Brienne all day. Go on, relax a bit. Oh, do you know? I've won eleven hands in a row! I hope you have the same good luck!"
Hearing of the Crown Prince's arrival, the surrounding nobles paused their games and bowed to him, especially the young ladies in their silk finery, whose eyes sparkled with romantic interest, giggling charmingly.
Joseph watched the nobles surrounding Queen Mary, showering her with flattery, and the Queen herself, flushed with excitement from winning, laughing heartily. He suddenly recalled the later writer Stefan Zweig's lament: 'She was too young then to know that all gifts of destiny come with a hidden price tag.'
As Joseph mused in silent melancholy, Monnot, his face thickly powdered white, scurried over, a wide smile plastered on his face. He eagerly tugged at Joseph's arm and gestured behind him.
"Your Highness, you've arrived just in time! We were just fretting about being one person short. Come join us for a game of cards."
A young noble at the card table started at this remark, then swiftly vanished with extreme speed, effectively creating the "missing person" situation.
Finding it difficult to refuse, Joseph followed the Interior Minister and sat down at the card table beneath the painting of Mars. Servants immediately brought wine and drinks.
"Two tens," the Comte de Pappus, at the head of the table, declared.
The game was similar to "Run Fast," but the smallest card was an Ace, and the King was the highest.
Joseph took a glass of juice, glanced at his hand, and shook his head. "Pass."
He noticed the piles of gold écus and silver livres on the table and couldn't help but recall France's two billion livres of national debt. Then he looked at the carefree cabinet ministers opposite him, spending gold coins without a second thought, and shook his head with a bitter smile. 'Perhaps a great revolution is indeed necessary...'
Preoccupied with thoughts of the national debt and combined with his poor card skills, he quickly lost three rounds, amounting to 12 gold écus.
Not far away, over a dozen noblewomen watched his table intently. Seeing the Crown Prince seem somewhat distracted, they assumed he was unhappy about losing. Immediately, they clenched their small fists, their teeth grinding audibly.
Several girls immediately sprang into action.
Some circled to face their fathers or uncles, engulfing them in eyes blazing with murderous intent and deep resentment.
Others approached their brothers, seemingly asking about their hand, but secretly pinched a piece of flesh on their arm and twisted it 180 degrees.
In truth, according to French court tradition, one was not supposed to deliberately lose at gambling. However, the three men at Joseph's table unhesitatingly decided to abandon this custom.
Monnot broke up a straight from 6 to 10, playing a single 8. The Comte de Pappus looked at the 7 Joseph played, gripped his single 10 and Queen, and firmly called, "Pass!"
Joseph's "luck" immediately improved. He won no matter what he played, even securing victory in one round where his highest card was a Jack, and he held almost all single cards.
The winning streak greatly boosted his spirits, and he momentarily forgot the time. It wasn't until he felt a little tired that he looked up at the clock, realizing it was already 11:30 PM.
He quickly rose to bid his card partners farewell, had Eman collect his winnings, and trudged wearily towards his chambers.
Stepping out of the hall, Eman caught up, whispering excitedly.
"Your Highness, you won a total of 156 écus."
With 1 écu equal to 6 livres, Joseph had won nearly a thousand livres in one evening!
"Not bad," Joseph felt a sense of accomplishment. "I didn't do any work all evening and earned so much!"
But then he remembered the horrifying two billion livres of national debt and couldn't help but calculate. At his current rate of winning, it would only take about 550 years to pay it off.
Joseph sighed. To repay such an enormous sum, merely setting up a few profitable projects of his own was far from enough. He had to use himself as a fulcrum to leverage the Industrial Revolution across all of France; that was the true path to resolving the financial problems.
Therefore, steam engines and textile technology needed to be developed as soon as possible, along with supporting financial and patent policies.
Joseph was so lost in thoughts of the Industrial Revolution that he didn't realize where his feet had taken him. Suddenly, his stomach rumbled. He shook his head with a wry smile; he had been winning all evening and hadn't even had supper.
He looked up and realized the kitchen was just ahead, along the corridor, with lights still on, indicating a royal chef was on duty.
It was quite a distance from the Crown Prince's chambers. If he were to return and then send for food, who knew how long he would have to wait.
He decided to just have a chef whip up something simple to tide him over right here. With that thought, he stepped towards the kitchen.
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