Chapter 228: The Southeast Asia Company
The transfer procedures for these land deeds were forged by the Foreign Intelligence Bureau. Among the retained clerks in the various prefectural and county yamen, there was a group of experts in forging documents and land deeds. After the forgeries were made, they were sent to Guangdong, where personnel under Lin Baiguang arranged for several people to impersonate the “original landowners” and go to the various county yamen to complete the official transfer procedures. The local officials generally knew what was going on and mostly turned a blind eye. After all, these lands were already ownerless. They didn’t have the guts to seize them, and it wasn’t worth playing the role of an upright official. It was better to transfer them to the Australians to collect some taxes and personal benefits.
Although some had suggested letting local agents become “landlords” and then come forward to collect rent, the Foreign Intelligence Bureau believed that it was not easy to set up these local agents and that it was not appropriate for them to make a high-profile appearance too early. In addition, this matter would inevitably cause some civil conflicts and have some negative effects. It was better to use a disposable cover.
The appearance of the “Wan Sheng Hao” shattered the dreams of many local peasants of owning land. For almost a year since the Battle of the Pearl River Estuary, these fields had been treated as ownerless and planted with grain. Now, with the autumn harvest approaching, the sudden appearance of a “landlord” caught the temporary “owners” of these lands off guard.
Without a land deed, there was no land ownership, which also meant that there was no formal tenancy relationship. The peasants’ reclamation and cultivation on the land were “illegal,” and the landlord could ruthlessly drive them away and monopolize the harvest. Their year of hard work and investment would be in vain—even complaining to the government would be useless.
However, this suddenly appearing “rent collection agency” was not too ugly in its approach. After all, the land still needed someone to cultivate it, and the Tiandihui did not yet have the energy to manage Guangdong. And the Australians’ reputation could not be tarnished. So their request was simple: both sides would sign a supplementary tenancy contract, and the harvest would be divided equally. The land tax would be borne by the landlord.
These terms were not particularly favorable, but for the peasants who might have otherwise worked for a year for nothing, it was not a bad outcome. They reluctantly accepted.
However, overall, the amount of grain that could be obtained, whether through collecting the “reasonable burden” or through the Wan Sheng rent collection agency, was quite limited.
During the Battle of the Pearl River Estuary, out of consideration for winning over the people, the “reasonable burden” extorted was relatively light. Except for a few towns that resisted fiercely, many were symbolic. Even in the towns that were heavily burdened, the amount was still low due to the idea of “not harming the poor.”
“…Our calculations show that these two incomes can accumulate to about 20,000 shi of grain in total, and another 20,000 taels worth of cash crops and silver,” Guo Yi said. “We haven’t collected it all yet, but the numbers won’t be far off.”
“Not quite enough,” Si Kaide commented.
“Of course it’s not enough. So, does the Planning Commission have a firm idea about purchasing grain?”
There was plenty of grain on the market. According to the figures provided by Lin Baiguang, if they were to purchase openly, it would be no problem to get 300,000 to 400,000 shi of grain. Of course, the bottom line was that they needed silver.
Even to purchase 200,000 shi, at the current market price, would require 150,000 taels of silver, and as the purchasing operation progressed, the price of rice would continue to rise. Despite the supplementary supply from the summer harvest and the price-lowering factor of the upcoming autumn harvest, the overall price would still rise. The final average purchase price might reach one tael per shi.
It was obviously impossible for the Ministry of Finance to come up with such a large sum of silver. So, at the beginning, the Planning Commission was hesitant about whether to purchase grain with cash, hoping for cheaper grain transported from Southeast Asia by the Dutch. But the Dutch generally did not send ships to the coastal areas of China before the end of summer due to the influence of typhoons.
As for the trade delegation sent to Southeast Asia, it was purely exploratory. Purchasing a large amount of grain required a complete local commercial network in the producing areas. Whether such a cooperative commercial network existed in Southeast Asia was something everyone was unsure about—although the historical researchers at the Great Library insisted that there was.
If they had to wait until after the end of summer, when the Engine Project began, the timing would be quite tight. The Engine Project’s forward command post at the Hong Kong headquarters of the Joint Logistics Command sent a forecast of the grain supply for the next 12 months, pointing out that the current grain reserves in Hong Kong were still at a warning level.
“So, A’de has made up his mind this time. We still have to purchase grain locally,” Si Kaide said. “The plan is for 100,000 shi of ready grain.”
The directive given to the Guangdong grain working group by the Planning Commission was “small quantities, multiple batches,” to avoid purchasing too much grain at once and causing the market price to rise too quickly.
“What about the payment? Where will it come from?” Guo Yi was very concerned about this. The various enterprises under the Guangzhou Station and the station itself all had accounts at Delong, and the account balances were not small—but most of this money had to be paid out soon, and it would not be easy to come up with 100,000 taels of silver.
Si Kaide said, “We’ll take a loan from Delong.”
Specifically, the purchase funds would be a loan from the Delong Guangzhou branch in the name of Dachang. Dachang would use the purchased grain as collateral to borrow 100,000 taels of silver from the Delong Guangzhou branch for a period of six months.
Since the Delong Guangzhou branch was already in formal operation, it was natural to use its absorbed deposits for turnover. If it relied entirely on appropriations from the Ministry of Finance, it would be difficult to sustain with the current extremely tight money supply. This was where Delong’s credit function came into play.
This was tantamount to borrowing money from the wealthy households in Guangdong to buy grain. However, this was different from ordinary credit. The purchased grain was actually consumed by the Council of Elders itself. Dachang was just a nominal entity; it was impossible for Dachang to make a profit from the grain trade itself to repay the principal and interest. As the ultimate debtor, the Planning Commission would use Lin’gao’s industrial products or re-exported trade products to repay this loan.
This arrangement was based on the premise that the sales of Lin’gao’s industrial products could meet this additional demand. It meant that in the next six months, Lin’gao had to provide an additional 100,000 taels worth of industrial products, and the Guangzhou Station had to sell an additional 100,0t taels worth. Therefore, Guo Yi was very worried about the future repayment. Although Delong and Dachang were a left-hand-to-right-hand relationship, the deposits absorbed by Delong were genuinely from the local area of Guangzhou. If there was any problem in the production or sales chain, it would inevitably cause a chain reaction.
Guo Yi was well aware that the Planning Commission could not pin its hopes on the manpower brought back. Those hundred thousand plus people could not immediately generate output value; at most, they could be used for unskilled manual labor like road construction. Their plan was to rely on the spoils of war from Shandong and Jeju, especially from Dengzhou. It was said that the annual military pay in Dengzhou consumed 800,000 taels. Over the years, with military pay, public and private expenditures, and merchant transport, the accumulated public and private wealth in the area would not be a small figure. In those days, Kong Youde had plundered a large amount of spoils when he rampaged through Dengzhou and Laizhou. As for Jeju Island, it should also be possible to squeeze out some profit—the island had a large number of cattle and horses, which were also very good assets.
Two large, slightly strange-looking Guang-style ships, flying the Morning Star flag, were sailing on the sea, riding the wind and waves. They were strange because their masts were equipped with gaff sails, which were not found on Chinese junks and were also non-existent on European ships of that time; they would not appear until the 18th century. Adding this system to the traditional Chinese hard sails was the latest improvement from the Council of Elders’ shipyard.
These two Guang-style ships, with a displacement of over 200 tons, were both made of ironwood and were very sturdy. They were originally pirate ships under the command of Zhu Cailao. After surrendering to Lin’gao, the original owners wished to keep them, so they were incorporated into the fleet of the Southeast Asia Company as an investment.
Although they were called the merchant fleet of the Southeast Asia Company, they mostly served as transport ships under the command of the navy in coastal waters. They rarely sailed on long-distance trade routes. Due to safety, wind conditions, and financial considerations, the Southeast Asia Company, established by the Council of Elders, only made one voyage a year to the Philippines, the Moluccas, Siam, and other places. Its main purpose was not so much for trade as for maintaining the trade network and gathering commercial information.
Since they were merchant ships, the modifications made by the Lin’gao shipyard to the ships under the Southeast Asia Company were relatively simple. The main improvement was the installation of a steering wheel system. There were no major structural changes, and not many cannons or weapons were installed. Only two 68-pounder carronades were installed for self-defense. Although these were company merchant ships, according to the relevant laws of the Council of Elders, all sailors on sea-going vessels were under the jurisdiction of the navy and could be requisitioned for war at any time.
On the poop deck of one of the larger ships, an Elder in plain clothes stood next to the helmsman, talking to a European next to him. Standing next to John Quark was Ping Qiusheng—an Elder who had graduated with a degree in medicine, held a first-class constructor qualification in municipal and electromechanical engineering, and was a certified public accountant. He had been working in the Planning Commission since D-Day, using his knowledge of East Asian history to plan a series of projects. This was his first real outing.
Elder Ping had always wanted to manage Japan—this was his own proposal. He could speak Japanese, had studied Japanese history and culture, and sometimes half-jokingly claimed to be a descendant of the Taira clan. However, Japan was not the main target of the Planning Commission at the moment. Instead, the staff inspection of Southeast Asia had named him to go. But he did not want to go to Southeast Asia; it was simply too hot. However, he had no choice. There was no one more suitable for this inspection. He understood the situation in Southeast Asia in the early 17th century, he knew medicine, could draw maps, and had experience in marketing. He was the perfect candidate for both the safety of the journey south, for surveying, and for market expansion.