Reap What You Sow
July 3, 1780, Versailles.
Negotiations with Spain were proceeding smoothly. Every three weeks, we exchanged couriers like players trading cards in a high-stakes game. So far, France had been at a disadvantage. Sovereignty was at stake, after all—no matter how meticulously we planned, there was an invisible glass wall we couldn't breach.
But that was the story up to now.
"Foreign Ministry. Report the current status."
"Yes, Your Majesty. On May 29th, the expedition to the Atacama Desert discovered a deposit of niter ore. As proof, they sent samples to Madrid and Paris. This is the niter ore sample from the expedition."
The Foreign Minister produced a chunk of niter ore the size of a man's head. It looked like ordinary sandstone. Some parts were opaque white, others a pale beige. It resembled mud-caked rock salt.
"The locals call it salpeter. If Your Majesty looks here, you can see pickaxe marks. Compared to other areas, doesn't this section have more white crystals? All these white patches are niter."
On the surface of the salpeter—the raw niter ore—countless grains clung like rice kernels. Where it had been chipped away, a spiderweb of crystals gleamed in the exposed cross-section.
"After sending this to Spain, our bargaining power surged. Before the sample arrived, Spain insisted that resources equaled sovereignty and demanded a 9:1 split in their favor. But once they saw it, they called for a reset to square one and requested fresh talks."
"Carlos III is a most wise monarch."
Spain could have cut France out upon seeing the ore and developed it alone, monopolizing the Atacama's vast niter deposits. That would have been profitable in the short term but foolish in the long run. Without a reformer like Carlos III, Spain would have been crushed by Britain and reduced to a third-rate power. To discard a sturdy ally like France for mere profit was absurd. Restoring Franco-Spanish relations later would cost far more than the niter's worth.
Above all, Spain had no spare attention for the Atacama right now. Like other European nations, they lacked currency. A solo development announcement might thrill the masses at first, but actual exploitation was impossible. Yet here came the anchor-currency powerhouse offering generous shares and full support. Refusing would be the real loss. For Spain, selling mining rights for 50 million francs would still be a win. And with France humbly initiating talks? They had every incentive to strike a deal that looked equal on the surface.
"Inform the Spanish ambassador of our plans: logistics hubs via Saint-Domingue and escort arrangements. In exchange, generous shares."
"Raising it to sixty percent?"
"No—mentioning specifics first puts us at a loss. Just convey that we seek acknowledgment of 'generous' shares."
"As you command."
It was far better to let Spain stew over our stake. Besides, wasn't it unseemly for kin to haggle openly over money? The sovereign had to broach it first to make the picture right.
"With that, negotiations are concluded..."
"Your Majesty. The Navy has a question."
The Navy? Britain had been quiet lately; there wasn't much for the fleet to do.
"Speak."
"It's not directly our department, but Spain seems to be funneling urban unemployed—victims of this panic—into its shipyards. According to the Mediterranean admiral, they're churning out frigates despite a shortage of sailors, just mooring them idle in port. Every seaworthy frigate is crossing the Atlantic to the American colonies. We haven't checked every vessel, but over ten float unused in harbors, and more than forty have sailed for the colonies."
This was news to me. National Intelligence Agency agents in Spain had reported public works as reforestation. I'd assumed green growth initiatives and relaxed. But naval buildup? Building ships did guzzle immense timber, and shipyards were high-security sites anyway. No wonder Intelligence missed it.
But it was odd. Simple armament wouldn't leave them docked without crews. This was suspiciously strange.
"What does the Navy make of this?"
"We judge it a show of force to bolster influence over Nueva España. The American Independence War's aftermath has weakened colonial control; they likely need a demonstration."
A show of force? Possible. But it didn't feel like the core. Mass-producing dozens of frigates just for posturing? Even the Soviets wouldn't bother. This screamed some kind of signal.
"What say the rest of you?"
"The deputy treasury chief speaking. In my view, they're gearing up for colonial trade. Mass-producing cost-effective warships like frigates—self-defending, high-capacity—to escape the economic crisis. It doubles as a colonial flex: green crews are subtle, but dozens of ships plying the seas? Visible."
Colonial trade... Sure, exploiting colonies was the cheapest way to bail out the homeland. But not now.
"They've nothing to sell to the colonies."
No money meant no buying—but also no selling. No market for goods meant no drive to produce beyond basics like food and shelter.
"Mediterranean admiral speaking. The timeline doesn't match niter mine news prompting frigate builds. A frigate takes at least a year and a half—even with dozens of our thirty-year veterans dedicating solely to it. Unskilled public workers? Two and a half to three years minimum. These were in the works long before; not rushed post-news."
Public works building frigates? Shipbuilding wasn't road-paving or pickaxing—it demanded skilled labor. Possible? Yet nothing else fit our intel. Realistic or not, we had to accept it.
"To summarize: Spain funneled urban unemployed into shipyards to beat the crisis, launched massive reforestation for timber, and sent all built ships to colonies. Correct?"
"Yes. That's the only interpretation."
Colonial trade... France's gain was crystal clear.
"Treasury, from now assess the feasibility of what I say."
"Yes. We're listening."
"In cities with public-works roads, establish departments to buy surplus from four-field rotation. Fixed purchase at eighty percent of January market rates—no undermining self-farming. Sell the grain to Spain at five percent profit to build ties; they ship it to colonies for recovery. Thoughts?"
"Yes. Treasury general speaking. January pricing hits wheat's peak growth—fair across grains, no favoritism. Beans will linger from spring-summer surplus; buckwheat and turnips from recent harvest, reasonably priced. Wheat's seasonally priciest, but abundant acreage keeps variance low. That said, dairy and processors may demand floor-price protections too."
"They'll get theirs in time. Continue."
"Yes. Transporting bought grain to Spain is the crux. Even with roads, France is vast. North tip to Madrid? Logistics double-plus; long hauls risk spoilage. Overland trade's unviable. But roads to nearby ports, then sea? Volume and speed explode. One ship hauls fifty wagons' worth; fair winds cover a week's cart trek in half a day."
"Sound idea. We'll route it that way."
"Finally, low-price surplus to Spain is viable. Their logistics are frozen from currency drought: inland bountiful but poor, cities rich but famine-struck. Grain taxes come grain, but bad roads and mountains choke urban supply. Unlimited sea grain? They'd snap it up—likely Seville for interior, Bilbao north, Cadiz for coastal small-boats."
Europe was entering industrialization. Steam hammers beating iron, coal breathing for men. But machines needed hands—and hands needed food. Factories would shrink farmland; workers fleeing farms would shrink it more. Food output would plummet.
If France became Europe's breadbasket amid that, we'd collar every nation with a lifeline. France unluckily had ninety percent of iron and coal crammed in Lorraine—meaning everywhere else could be pure farmland, no regrets.
The blueprint from the MEPO bills scam was finally complete. Just one piece in a grander mosaic.
"Excellent. Foreign Ministry, factor this into leading Atacama joint mining. Make them buy our surplus grain."
I preferred sure trades over war's gambles.
"As Your Majesty wills."
This was win-win. Spain recovers; France clears stocks.
"Might as well seal a free trade pact while we're at it."
Sell some grain to Britain too?