I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 506: The Tax Farmers Association’s Counterattack

The room was quiet for several seconds before Charles looked up at Ford and said, "It seems that the government is going to forcibly cancel the tax-farming system. So...what should we do?"

If the French government can really raise 2 million francs, it can maintain fiscal expenditure for half a year. During this period, taxes will continue to be collected, thus forming a virtuous circle.

In this case, the government no longer has to consider the attitude of the Tax Farmers Association, and tax reform can be completed with just a decree from the cabinet.

An old man on the left side of the table shook his head, as if muttering to himself: "The French government is carrying out such a big reform, even if it has 2 million francs, the funds will still be tight.

"We should probably negotiate with Brian as soon as possible and provide him with a loan to get a higher interest rate."

"We can't just give up like this!"

Hope immediately interrupted him loudly, and then looked around at everyone and said, "The most you can get from a government loan is a slightly higher interest rate than a national debt. Are you willing to just do a small business like this?!"

All the tax farmers looked unwilling.

Although their apparent profit from tax farming was only 16%-20%, they actually had many hidden benefits. For example, they took advantage of the convenience of collecting tobacco and salt taxes to sell fake cigarettes and inferior salt; they took advantage of the difference in local tax rates between different provinces to exercise a certain degree of trade control, etc.

With that revenue included, their return on investment would be over 25%.

If the rate of return were to drop to a single-digit percentage, it would be worse than killing their entire family.

Baron Morel gritted his teeth and said, "Damn the French government! This is a business that my family has run for generations. If they don't let me pay the taxes, I would rather invest the money in Britain! It is said that the gas lighting projects in London have a 15% return."

His words immediately drew a wave of agreement: "That's right, I also want to move my business out of France."

"We must unite and not surrender to the French government!"

"The Dutch stock market is also good. I have long wanted to try it there..."

Hope raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet, as if to summarize the matter: "Let Viscount Berlant try again and increase the tax package to 5 million francs. If it still doesn't work, we will leave France."

These tycoons have never had a motherland. They only suck blood from different countries. If they can control the economic lifeline of a country, they will be able to enjoy wealth forever.

For example, Wallenberg, who controlled Sweden, and the Sassoon family, who controlled the eastern Ottoman Empire, were the best among them, as were Rothschild, Morgan, and others who came later.

At this moment, Borore stood up and said disdainfully: "After all this talk, you just can't do anything to the government and are just preparing to escape."

Seeing everyone looking at him, he immediately showed a fierce look on his face: "We have a lot of money, connections and means, why don't we let those who dare to challenge us fall into fear? We can definitely show the French government a little bit of our power!"

Seeing this, Morrel's eyes flashed with cunning, and he immediately said loudly with admiration: "You are right, we must also show our strength. You are the most capable in this regard, and we are counting on you!"

Borolei immediately said arrogantly: "Humph, just wait and see."

As the meeting was drawing to a close, the British banker Goldmid hesitated again and again, and finally looked at Hope and carefully suggested: "Mr. Hope, in fact, we have a very useful 'weapon' in our hands. At least we can get the French government to share some of the tax benefits with us."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Tax documents." He only said two words, and Hope fell into deep thought. Then he nodded slowly: "You are right. The French government has not collected taxes for more than a century. Without the information we provide, they can't even determine how much tax to collect from those cunning businessmen!"

Goldmid nodded. "We can also teach factory owners and merchants to lie. For example, let them say that they pay quarterly or half-yearly taxes, or that they have reached a tax reduction agreement with the previous tax collector.

"Without our registration documents, the new tax officials will be caught up in endless arguments and sophistry. Even if they forcibly collect taxes, it will inevitably arouse the anger of taxpayers."

Hope's eyes lit up. "When the government's tax bureau is in chaos, we can negotiate with them and help them restore tax order by obtaining a share of the tax revenue or the right to collect certain types of taxes."

Seeing that his opinion was supported, Goldmid immediately continued: "Well, now we need to let all tax farmers gather the tax documents and have them kept by the General Assembly.

"On the other hand, some rough or even wrong documents need to be prepared to deceive the French government."

"You are a genius!" Hope praised him immediately, and then looked at Delphi and others, "Then let's do it. Mr. Goldmid's method will ensure the minimum profit for everyone."

……

North-central France.

Province of Orleans.

The Duke of Orleans once ran this place as his base and invested a huge amount of money, so both agriculture and commerce here are among the best in all the provinces of France.

Lemire, the new director of the Orleans Tax Bureau, was originally full of confidence and prepared to show his strength here, but at this moment, he was nervously looking at the two people covered in blood in the room.

The two people were Vincent, his tax inspector, and Vincent's assistant.

The doctor instructed the servants to carry the injured onto a stretcher, and after a quick examination, he briefed the police on the situation:

"The taller gentleman has a broken left arm. The other one's injuries are slightly less serious, but they were both obviously beaten with a blunt object. The good news is that they are probably not in danger of death. Now I have to go and give them further treatment."

“These bastards,” Lemaire said, gritting his teeth as he looked at his unconscious subordinate, “They actually dared to attack officials!”

The police officer next to him immediately looked at him and said, "Director, do you have any clues about the murderer?"

Lemaire nodded: "On the third day after we arrived in Orleans, we received a threatening letter. They threatened us to resign immediately, otherwise they would make us regret it.

"We didn't take it seriously at the time, thinking it was just a prank. Unexpectedly, Francois and Garcia from the police station were attacked from behind on the street the day before yesterday. Fortunately, there were passers-by nearby, so the injuries were not serious.

"And today, Mr. Vincent was murdered."

As he was speaking, a police officer hurried over and handed a piece of paper to the supervisor in charge:
"This was just found in the pocket of the injured man."

The latter looked at the note, frowned and read:

"Get back immediately, or next time you'll get more than just one arm."

(End of this chapter)