The House of Iron: A Creed All Must Believe
No one knows when the first one appeared, but it was clear by late summer 1638 that there was a serious problem. Imperial bank certificates were not fiat currency, paper money of the type familiar to the modern individual; no establishment in Rhomania had to take them as payment. However they were often used as a form of payment, particularly for large transactions where handling bags of hyperpyra would be inconvenient or insecure. The Roman government regularly paid large private contractors providing bulk material for the war effort in bank certificates, allowing it to use its coins to pay soldiers, auxiliaries, and small contractors. Had the White Palace been forced to pay them all in coinage, it would’ve been utterly impossible to do so.
Imperial bank certificates (IBCs for short) had a paper value. If one deposited 100 hyperpyra at a branch, one in theory got an IBC with a paper value of 100 hyperpyra. However the actual value did not always match up with the paper value. The reason for that is that it actually wasn’t as simple as depositing X in coinage and getting an IBC of X value.
When one deposited money with the Imperial Bank, one had to pay a deposit fee, which was a percentage of the amount. The conceit behind this is the fee was a payment to the bank to compensate them for keeping your money secure rather than you just burying it under your bed. Furthermore IBCs had a ‘release’ date. Some were ‘pay upon presentation’, which meant they had no release date. They could be presented at any time to a branch and the paper value paid out in coin, thus their paper value matched their actual value.
These though were rare. Most IBCs had a release date of varying times, before which the bank would refuse to cash it out. If one had an IBC worth 100 hyperpyra with a 6-month release and an issue date of February 1, it couldn’t be cashed out until August 1. But if it was March and one needed ready cash now and couldn’t wait, they might have to sell it to someone for 80 hyperpyra on the spot. The actual value is thus less than the paper value.
Most IBCs are of the delayed release type because the Imperial Bank wants them that way. With the money secured till a known date, this gives the bank greater security in issuing loans for its own profit without having to worry about untimely withdrawals. To encourage those types, money deposited on a delayed release earn interest, and the longer the delay the higher the interest; money deposited under a ‘pay upon presentation’ gets no interest. Furthermore the longer the delay, the lower the deposit fee.
The Roman government regularly participates in this. Bullion reserves are kept under the direct control of the government but a lot of revenue is deposited in the bank with the government getting IBCs in response. Since the White Palace has the ability to secure its own bullion, there is little need for ‘pay upon presentation’ IBCs, although some are used to expedite mass cash transfers throughout the Empire. There are more short-delay IBCs, but the bulk is comprised of long-delay IBCs. In peacetime with normal expenditures, this is viewed as the best use of the government’s revenue. The maximum interest is secured, while the government knows its pay schedule for its officials and soldiers and sailors and the IBC releases are tailored accordingly. [1] If an unexpected expenditure occurs, there are the bullion reserves, the ‘pay upon presentation’, the short-delay IBCs, and in the worst case scenario long-delay IBCs can be cashed out on the Constantinople exchange.
This expansive flow of capital is made possible by the new fractional reserve system used by the Imperial Bank. Instead of the paper value of all IBCs being an even match for the amount of coinage in the Imperial Bank’s vaults, the paper value is triple that of the bullion. The Imperial Bank can make many more loans now than it could previously and the flow of extra IBCs was vital for funding the war effort.
Yet for all its necessity, the concept is regarded very warily by many individuals. Using a paper note as a convenience rather than carting the equivalent in coinage is understood and accepted; the note is a stand-in for the real money. But everyone knows that is not the case now. A 60 hyperpyra IBC has only 20 gold coins behind it, which leads to the question: what are the other 40 hyperpyra? Just some scribbles on a page that are only worth that much if people pretend that it is worth that much. The entire concept seems entirely unethical, fabricating ‘money’ out of thin air when it doesn’t really exist.
The Metropolitans of Athens, Ephesus, and Ikonion are all particularly against this innovation, viewing it as unchristian and immoral, built entirely on a lie. They criticize it as a way for the rich to conjure fake money for themselves while the poor are destitute for lack of real money. The Hypatos of the Philosophers, an honorary but highly prestigious title granted to the most gifted intellectual in the Empire, also comes out against it, describing it as “a false creed that requires everyone to believe in it for it to continue to be. The moment that it is doubted, it crumbles, for it has no physical reality.”
Demetrios III is also one of those people who are skeptical of the concept, but who agreed to it because he recognized the necessity of expanding the supply of capital for funding the war effort. As a compromise he ordered the Imperial Bank to restrict the IBC value to bullion value be kept at 3:1 at most, even though some, including the Bank directors, had urged a higher ratio.
The knowledge that the ratio is capped is a commonly known fact, which is what clues people that something is wrong in summer 1638. The amount of coin in the Imperial Bank vaults is not common knowledge, for security reasons, but people have made educated guesses and based on those can estimate how much the value of IBCs should be. In the summer of 1638 there is a growing sense of unease; the value of circulating IBCs seems to be too high based on those estimates. But it could just be that the estimates are too low.
By mid-August though it is clear; there are way too many IBCs circulating for them to be keeping at a 3:1 ratio. The only explanation seems to be that someone is counterfeiting IBCs and putting them out on the market. The problem is that whoever is doing so is very good at their job. Nobody can tell a would-be counterfeit from a real IBC. The Hypatos’ words turn into a prophecy, for as belief fades and doubt spreads, the edifice crumbles.
By September 1, the word has spread throughout the entire Imperial heartland, from Arta to Aleppo, from Theodoro to Tyre, and people are horrified. This is a very widespread concern as during the war Roman propaganda urged people to invest their coinage with the bank, where it could be used as part of the basis of loans for the war effort. Many people whose parents would’ve had coin hoards instead possess IBCs. Except now nobody trusts their IBCs to be worth what they’re claimed, because their authenticity is now extremely questionable. Those who can release their IBCs flood their branch office, demanding to cash them out, but as more come in with the same demand people grow even more alarmed, especially when rumors (that are true) that there is not enough coinage to go around get started.
In four cities, literal runs on the bank trample 17 people to death and injure well over a hundred more. In Thessaloniki, Antioch, and Smyrna these all escalate to riots. Many of the rioters have lost practically everything. This is the 17th century, where the margin between affluence and destitution is rarely small and easily breached, and where destitution can easily be a death sentence. So the rioters rage with the fury of ones who know they are already damned. In Smyrna it requires elements of the Thrakesian tagma to arrive before order is restored.
In Constantinople an appearance of quiet is maintained by having all of the guard tagmata out patrolling on the streets, an unprecedented act, but underneath the capital is seething. Per capita, the Queen of Cities is the hardest hit by these financial upheavals. In Constantinople, the bank office was closed quickly enough that there is still coinage in the vaults, with a system set up to allow those who can prove ‘extreme need’ to release their IBCs for currency.
People who can’t release their IBCs because the release date hasn’t arrived yet are desperate to get rid of these worthless pieces of paper in exchange for at least some hard currency. Frantic, they offer them at values far below the paper value. Furthermore, the sheer number of people doing this at the same time and flooding the market further devalue the IBCs, driving them through the floor.
This is especially a problem for the Imperial government. As mentioned, a good portion of its wealth is in the form of long-release IBCs. The White Palace maintains large stockpiles of coinage but that is overwhelmingly for paying the salaries of the military. No one has tried to pay them with paper money and now is obviously a really bad time to try. To preserve the coinage for that task, which is a major and continuous expense, most other transactions are done with IBCs.
Yet even IBCs from the Imperial government are no longer trusted, with contractors demanding significant markups because of the insecurity. For example, an order placed with a shipyard in Sinope for building replacements for the green ships of the Trebizond Yard scandal is valued at 250,000 hyperpyra, except the shipbuilder will only accept an IBC as payment if its paper value is a half million. As a result of these expense issues, plans to replace the green ships are shelved indefinitely.
Demetrios III has been putting all effort into finding a way firstly into distinguishing counterfeits from real IBCs, with absolutely no success. Secondly, he wants those responsible so he can make an utterly spectacular example of them. On September 19, Leo Sideros delivers an extremely detailed and confidential report to his uncle.
[1] One example is a 6.1 million hyperpyra IBC with a release date three months before the expiry of the Demetrian Truce with the Ottomans. Demetrios III specifically set it up to finance the increased expenditure once warfare resumed.