Chapter XX: Of Budgets and Balances

The Marquis de Castries turned an alarming shade of green and rose with evident agitation. "Your Highness," he exclaimed, "such a proposal—how can we possibly abandon our naval construction? The fleet is the nation's blade upon the sea—our finest spear! We dare not dull it."

Joseph remained unruffled. "Marquis, a simple question—how many vessels can the British construct in the time it takes us to build a single ship of the line?"

Castries faltered. "Well… perhaps one and a half?"

The Crown Prince gave no response but continued to gaze steadily at him.

The Marquis shifted uncomfortably. "Two. Two vessels. Their shipyards are indeed more efficient than ours…"

Joseph gave a slight nod. "Then it is clear: in a contest of quantity alone, we cannot hope to outmatch the British Navy."

A heavy silence fell across the chamber. The ministers exchanged uneasy glances. The Crown Prince had spoken what many had long believed but dared not utter—France could not win a numbers race at sea.

He pressed on. "If that is so, should we continue pouring our limited coin into a losing contest? For protecting merchant routes, our existing fleet suffices. Beyond that, we must think strategically, not sentimentally."

Of course, Joseph had no intention of forever diminishing France's naval ambitions. But now was not the moment to invest blindly in multi-deck sailing ships destined to be outclassed. The British possessed unmatched shipbuilding resources: more timber, more skilled hands, more yards, and more capital. France, a land army power, could not afford to match them on their terms.

He knew, as would history, that unless France pursued radical advancements—ironclads, steam propulsion, heavy guns—they would remain forever behind.

But such ideas were not for this meeting. Not yet.

The Marquis was visibly frustrated, but before he could respond, Archbishop Brienne, calm and calculating, spoke. "Your Highness, while your logic is sound, it would be unwise to abandon naval expansion altogether. I recommend limiting the reduction to one ship of the line and two second-rates—beyond that, we risk appearing weak."

Count Mono nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Our colonies and trade outposts demand protection, if only to deter opportunists."

Queen Mary, with the wisdom of a monarch and mother both, rendered her verdict. "Let us proceed as Archbishop Brienne proposes. Marquis de Castries, I entrust you to oversee this reduced construction with utmost thrift. See that no livre is wasted."

The Marquis bowed stiffly, barely concealing his dismay. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Inwardly, he mourned the setback. The Crown Prince is yet young, he thought. He understands ledgers, but not strategy. I must speak with him privately… educate him in maritime matters.

With that thorny matter passed, Brienne, appearing much relieved, moved briskly to the next point. "As many of you are aware, the Patriot uprising in the Netherlands has been all but crushed. Prussian forces have entered without resistance, and the Stadtholder, William V, has been restored. In light of this, I propose ending all support to the Dutch insurgents. It will save us 250,000 livres per month."

There were murmurs of agreement. Several ministers nodded, especially those long skeptical of the Patriot cause.

Joseph frowned, recalling the events in the Netherlands. The Patriot Party had attempted to break free from the House of Orange with French encouragement. But the swift Prussian intervention—triggered by the arrest of Princess Wilhelmina, wife to William V—had reversed their gains. Without French troops, their collapse was near-certain.

Queen Mary turned to the chamber. "Are there any objections?"

Joseph stood.

The Minister of War, Saint-Priest, who had intended to plead for continued support, lowered his gaze. Surely, the Crown Prince, having just slashed the navy's budget, would now favor disengagement abroad.

But Joseph's voice rang clear. "Your Majesty, I believe we must increase our support to the Dutch Patriots—and even show readiness to confront Prussia if necessary. We cannot allow their defeat."

A quiet gasp rippled through the room.

Queen Mary raised an elegant brow. "You propose we risk war with Prussia? Explain your reasoning."

Joseph stood firm. "First, the Netherlands guards the mouth of the Rhine—control it, and we check Prussian influence west of the river. Second, Dutch commerce is vast. By bringing the Netherlands into our orbit, we gain an economic partner and recoup our aid through trade.

"Third, conflict with Prussia is not a question of if, but when. Should we allow them to dominate the Low Countries, we hand them strategic advantage."

What he left unsaid was no less important: the Netherlands, rich in coal and iron, would be vital to any future industrial expansion. And if the Patriot exiles poured into France after defeat, they would stir unrest within French borders—just as they did in the years leading up to the Revolution.

The ministers shifted in their seats. The Crown Prince's logic was impeccable—yet few dared to tread the path he proposed.

Archbishop Brienne was first to object. "Your Highness, the treasury is stretched thin. There are no further funds to give."

"We have just reallocated funds from the navy," Joseph replied smoothly. "Why not use those?"

The Minister of War beamed in surprise. "Your Highness, you are most generous."

The Navy Minister, Castries, gave a strained smile. "Much obliged, Your Highness."

Brienne sighed inwardly. At least he hasn't claimed full control yet.

Queen Mary leaned forward. "Joseph, your reasoning is sound. But even with additional funds, the Dutch may fall. Are you prepared to stake France's honor on their success?"

Joseph bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, I stake only what has already been risked. Let us not squander our investment now, when one strong gesture might yet preserve it."

There was a long pause.

At last, the Queen nodded. "Very well. We shall continue our support to the Patriot cause. Let it be made clear to the Prussian court that France does not abandon her allies lightly."

Brienne grimaced but said nothing. The Duke of Orléans tapped a finger silently against his chair, deep in thought.

And so, the Crown Prince had not only entered the Ministry of Finance but had already begun to shift its course.