A Calculated Risk by Katherine Neville (most difficult books to read txt) 📕

“But you yourself, Monsieur Mollien, have seen the letters,” James said calmly.

“Yes, yes, of course. And even if it were not so, it is the emperor’s policy to drain England of her gold and silver reserves, a policy only aided by this measure. We know that an army cannot fight on an empty stomach, or without shoes. And we know how hard-pressed is their General Wellesley in the peninsula. The war will soon be over, I assure you—we’ve intercepted letters from Wellesley to his ministers in London, asking that his troops be recalled since their own government cannot provide these things. The English may control the seas, as they are so fond of saying, but we French control the land! So long as we keep them short of gold, they’ll be unable to send large shipments to Wellesley—they cannot risk that we may cut their supply lines.”

The French minister finished this lecture on warfare and economics with a flourish, and stuffed another pastry into his mouth.

“It’s fortunate that the emperor has taken this position, M. Mollien,” said James politely, “for I’d be most uncomfortably strained to slip this British gold into Germany. To do so, I’d have to pass through the lowlands, and so many bribes would be required it would hardly be worth the effort. Since you permit me to move it through Dunkerque, the French government will be the one to profit. I compliment you on your foresight.”

“I pride myself,” said Mollien, his mouth full of pastry, “on being an excellent judge of character. It’s well understood here in France that you Jews are more interested in turning a profit for yourselves than in any national affiliations—in some way, you are men without a country. It may be costly to extract this gold from the crumbling British Empire, but any loss from your pocket will be France’s gain, and when the Napoleonic Code is in effect in Germany, the Jews of Frankfurt will conduct business freely and own property for the first time in perhaps a thousand years.”

“It’s indeed fortunate for us that Monsieur Mollien perceives matters in his own light,” said James. “And history will remember you for that.”

For two years, Nathan had been in London, buying gold bullion from the East India Company. He was able to acquire a large quantity, for while the British government was waiting for the price to drop, Nathan was willing to pay the full price.

But the price did not drop, and by the spring of 1811, when the British treasury was desperate for enough gold to finance its armies, Nathan was able to sell it to them below the market price, though still at a profit to himself. Nathan believed in performance—not in promises—and England was the only European country in which all citizens, regardless of their religion, had property rights. He intended to see that it continued that way.

“Mr. Herries,” said Nathan to the commissary-in-chief, “now that we have concluded our transaction to your satisfaction, may I make so bold as to ask what you intend to do with all this gold?”

“That’s a very forward question, Mr. Rothschild,” said Herries, “but as anyone must have concluded by now, we are in dire straits because of that damned Corsican who’s running all over Europe, marrying our allies and putting his relatives on the throne of every country in sight.”

“And so you plan to use the money to expand your naval prowess, in order to further protect England’s coastline from her neighbors?” asked Nathan.

“Rothschild, you’re not a fool,” said Herries abruptly. “You’re the cleverest man I know—and surely the one with the greatest foresight. You know that Lord Wellington is in distress at this very moment. His army in the Iberian peninsula has received no gold in months, for we’ve had none to send him. Our economies are of the very worst sort just now, the American colonies are acting up again, and I openly admit there may be war with them soon, now that they feel bold enough to challenge our supremacy at sea. The king—let us be frank—is too ill to be of any use. The prime minister makes a different decision every day, and has angered the people thereby. I shall tell you confidentially that the state of our nation is one of utter confusion, that if Wellington fails to win this peninsular war, quickly and cleanly, he will be recalled from Spain.”

“Indeed,” said Nathan, who knew the state of the British treasury better than Herries himself.

Only last winter, Nathan had bought up the drastically discounted drafts that Herries’s predecessor in office had advised Lord Wellington to draw on British treasury bills to help finance the war. Those drafts had passed into Nathan’s hands through the ruthless and treacherous Sicilian financial bloc—whose ill-gotten wealth was earned solely through speculation on countries whose stars were waning. The Sicilians were the vultures of the European financial community, never buying anything at more than a quarter of face value. If England’s paper were in their hands, they must have been the only ones Wellington could sell it to, in order to raise the essential funds. This alone revealed the position to Nathan, more starkly than a detailed financial statement from the treasury.

“So you plan to send this gold to Lord Wellington, to keep him alive in the peninsula?” said Nathan.

“That’s what the gold’s intended for—but I fear there’s no way to do it,” Herries admitted sadly. “Sending it by ship is out of the question; three ships have been sunk off the coast in as many months. And to send it through allied territory would take too long and pose too great a danger. The entire war may be concluded, in fact, before we can find a way to deliver this gold to Wellington.”

“Perhaps I may make a suggestion, then,” said Nathan.

“Any suggestion is welcome at this point,” said Herries, “though I fear we’ve exhausted all