Look to the West -- Thread II

[frozenpredator]

Originally Posted by EmmettMcFly55

One thing that makes this timeline so great is that it does not make nations go in one straight line from nothing to the world's supreme power. Countries rise and fall, rise again, then fall once more. While it is possible all of this is just some distraction while the real to-be-wanked country quietly establishes her empire, I doubt that.

Therefore, I can not conclude anything but that this timeline is more plausible and more original than our very own timeline. Great work.

hmm, which is the country that hasn't been hit hard by the timeline?

propably Liechtenstein

[Haaki]

Did the New Spanish regain control over the Philippines?

[Thande]

Originally Posted by Haaki

Did the New Spanish regain control over the Philippines?

The fate of the Philippines will be outlined in a later chapter.

[SavoyTruffle]

Originally Posted by Thande

The fate of the Philippines will be outlined in a later chapter.

Oh boy, now that's an update I'd read.

[CaptainCrowbar]

Originally Posted by EmmettMcFly55

One thing that makes this timeline so great is that it does not make nations go in one straight line from nothing to the world's supreme power. Countries rise and fall, rise again, then fall once more. While it is possible all of this is just some distraction while the real to-be-wanked country quietly establishes her empire, I doubt that.

What did you think the Maori were getting up to all this time?

[Michael Canaris]

Originally Posted by CaptainCrowbar

What did you think the Maori were getting up to all this time?

Extra Haka practice.

[Agatho]

Originally Posted by fortyseven

Will the Maure try to conquer Hawaii?

December 7th, 1821 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the Empire of All Russias was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and sea forces of the Cheifdom of Maure.
The Empire was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Maure, was still in conversation with its government and its chief looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.
Indeed, one hour after Maure canoe squadrons had commenced...

[W.W.A.F.T.]

there's been some heavy forshadowing that new spain and old spain will be separated again and probably antagonistic to one another. among other things it's been stated that new spain is a modern term retroactively applied to history by the moderns. the nature of the term seems to suggest that the spains did not part on friendly terms, and perhaps maintain claims against each other. and, from the tone taken at the end of the last update it sounds as if things are going to go off the rails very shortly, perhaps even as soon as the death of charles.

also, a random thought just struck me: the operating assumption has always been that the evil societist country occupying south america in the future originated in the UPSA, now my recollections on how this began are a bit fuzzy at present, so there might be something conclusive that I'm forgetting, but it might also be possible that it grew out of new spain instead (for me at least that sounds like it would make for better drama).

[Analytical Engine]

Originally Posted by Alex Richards

I'm seeing hints of a societist regime in Spain in future.

Well, if you've seen Thande's 1st draft maps for LTTW (burried somewhere in the earlier map threads)...

There's also a Societist Indochina and south China too...

Originally Posted by Michael Canaris

Extra Haka practice.

Wouldn't the Haka be butterflied out? It's a relatively recent song/dance (and rather racy )...

[Archangel]

Not all good things last forever.

Keep it up, Thande!

[Shevek23]

Originally Posted by W.W.A.F.T.

....
also, a random thought just struck me: the operating assumption has always been that the evil societist country occupying south america in the future originated in the UPSA, now my recollections on how this began are a bit fuzzy at present, so there might be something conclusive that I'm forgetting, but it might also be possible that it grew out of new spain instead (for me at least that sounds like it would make for better drama).

It might well; one would expect though that the poor UPSA would still be cut off and absorbed into the Societist system anyway. Aside from a priori fears of this from just looking at a globe, I think it's clear enough by the documents quoted that wherever the movement starts (as one that actually takes over states that is) the UPSA is long gone into it, whether as the founder or an early conquest doesn't matter.

Indeed if I understand Societism at all, it would seem that once tipped into it, the former national boundaries and separate histories of separate nations are not supposed to matter anymore; the ideologists on that side would stress everything transnational and downplay anything peculiar to this or that region, so they'd be celebrating individuals in the UPSA who were pro- or proto- Societist, and it would seem to a student there that they were much more inclined to go that way than was actually the case when it actually happened.

[W.W.A.F.T.]

Originally Posted by Shevek23

snip

yes, of course, nothing really here to disagree with here.

if that's how things end up going though, it makes for a big change in the role of the UPSA, at least for us readers, they become victims instead of victimizers. it also opens up the opportunity for some interesting parallels to our russia if new spain develops in that direction.

[J. de Vos]

You're really shaking things up! I'm quite interested as to what you plan on having the Dutch colonial forces do and what will be left of the UP after the revolutinaries and Flemmings are done rampaging.

[wannis]

Originally Posted by Shevek23

Indeed if I understand Societism at all, it would seem that once tipped into it, the former national boundaries and separate histories of separate nations are not supposed to matter anymore; the ideologists on that side would stress everything transnational and downplay anything peculiar to this or that region, so they'd be celebrating individuals in the UPSA who were pro- or proto- Societist, and it would seem to a student there that they were much more inclined to go that way than was actually the case when it actually happened.

Yes, like the Soviets used to maintain that they didn't invade the Baltic states, they were "called".

[fortyseven]

After the Final War of Supremacy, Lichtenstein conquers all of Europe?

[The Sandman]

Originally Posted by fortyseven

After the Final War of Supremacy, Lichtenstein conquers all of Europe?

Yes, but then they're usurped by the Duchy of Grand Fenwick.

[imperialaquila]

Originally Posted by The Sandman

Yes, but then they're usurped by the Duchy of Grand Fenwick.

Who are opposed by Sealand.

[Thande]

Part #123: The Sins of the Father

The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall;
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.

“Rule, Britannia!” (James Thomson and Thomas Arne, 1740)

*

From: “A History of Government, Volume II: A Parliamentary History of the World” by J. Hartley, C. Desaix and X. von Bülow (1924)—

PARLIAMENT IN GREAT BRITAIN. The parliamentary tradition stemming from the peoples of Great Britain is well known across the world and has been a major influence on the development of representative government elsewhere. English historians wishing to trace back an uninterrupted history of government will often cite the Anglo-Saxons’ Witenagemot, an assembly of the great men of the realm whose role was to advise the King, as the beginning of parliamentary government in the island. However, there is little trace of any real connection between the Witenagemot and the later Parliament of England, which developed from the feudal Curia Regis (Royal Court) instituted by William the Conqueror after the Norman Conquest. The Curia developed into a recognisable Parliament by a process of steadily increasing its power whenever the monarchy looked weak, most famously during the reign of John Lackland with the signing[1] of Magna Carta in 1215. Later in the thirteenth century, the disastrous foreign policy of Henry III led to Parliament led to the rebellion of Simon de Montfort and the creation of the Provisions of Oxford in 1258, which set out a model for future parliaments. Montfort called a Parliament in 1264 without the consent of the King, presaging the later independent and combative mood of the body towards the Crown. While Montfort was eventually defeated and the Provisions forgotten, the models of government he had pioneered gradually made their way into the constitutional makeup of England. Under Montfort’s model a Parliament should be made up of an elected House of Commons and an aristocratic House of Lords, the latter also including bishops and the senior judiciary—a contrast to the Three Estates model to develop in France, which separated the clergy from the nobles. Prior to the Provisions of Oxford it had been common for Lords and Commons to sit together as a unicameral body with equal votes, as would later be the case in the French Grand-Parlement.

Montfort’s Commons also introduced the idea of how MPs should be elected: there were two types of MP, Burgesses and Knights of the Shire. Burgesses were elected by city boroughs, while Knights of the Shire were elected by the entire electorate of a county. This meant it was common for voters to cast multiple votes for multiple seats, such as for both the city they lived in and the county that city was located in. At that point it was also standardised for each seat (whether county or borough) to elect two MPs, with both the winner and the first runner up taking seats. A voter could cast as many votes as there were seats available, and when organised political parties developed later it was standard for each to stand two candidates per constituency. The Parliament of England had a surprisingly broad franchise until the fourteenth century, when the aristocracy became alarmed by the number of common voters and candidates and introduced property qualifications for voting that drastically reduced the size of the electorate.

There were several periods of significant change to the structure of Parliament. Although Wales was annexed to England by the Statute of Rhuddlan in 1284, Wales did not elect MPs to the English Parliament until a constitutional reform by Henry VIII in 1542. When James VI of Scotland succeeded to the throne of England in 1603 as James I, he supported the idea of unifying Great Britain politically as well as by personal union, including subsuming the Scottish Parliament into the English. This proposal got nowhere at the time (more through opposition by the English Parliament than the Scottish) and the eventual union a century later would ironically be the result of an action taken to prevent James’ Stuart descendants from trying to reclaim their throne. The Scottish Parliament, though often idolised by supporters of Scottish Home Rule, had little of the importance in its realm that the English Parliament did in England. The Scottish Parliament was a unicameral body, unlike England’s, although formally it was divided into Three Estates like France’s. A higher property requirement for voting than in England coupled to periods of being seen as a powerless rubber-stamp tended to lead to very low voter turnout in Scotland, often as little as 10% of that in England. Perhaps ironically voter turnout would only pick up after the Act of Union, despite the separate Scottish property requirement being kept—it seems that (sometimes justified) paranoia by Scottish voters about the Parliament of Great Britain imposing English practices on Scotland led to more public engagement with government. Or perhaps, as Lewis Taggart observed in Ane Auld Gest, it is simply that Scots never appreciated their parliament until it was taken away.

The English Civil War of 1642-51 pitted the English Parliament directly against an absolutist-minded King in military conflict. When Parliamentary forces emerged victorious, the institution proved too divided to actually rule the country effectively, leading to Cromwell’s dictatorship. Cromwell did pass some sensible parliamentary reforms such as abolishing rotten boroughs; paradoxically, these considerably held back the course of reform under the restored monarchy—the reforms were reversed and became taboo purely due to being associated with Cromwell. Under the Restoration, for the first time a formally appointed parliamentary Cabinet took over the management of government. The First Glorious Revolution in 1688 was another significant moment, with William and Mary taking the throne not through divine right but by the acknowledgement of Parliament, and the creation of the English Bill of Rights that formed the basis of the British Constitution. The origins of formalised political parties came to pass with the Whigs and Tories. With the Protestant Stuart line dying out with Mary and Queen Anne, the Union finally took place and the newly united Great British Parliament once again showed itself to be the dominant institution in the land by installing the Hanoverian monarchy. The European-focused (and non-anglophone in the case of the first) George I and II led to a furthering of parliamentary power. The South Sea Bubble in 1720 led to the resignation of multiple cabinet ministers and the ascension of Sir Robert Walpole as the first Prime Minister, though the term would not formally be used until years later.

Matters altered somewhat in the 1740s and 50s. The War of the British Succession and the Second Glorious Revolution put Parliament on the back foot slightly, with a popular and activist monarch in the person of Frederick I. Frederick was also more active than his father or grandfather in advancing his own interests in Parliament via his supporters, the Patriots. Frederick’s son George III was less intrusive in government, his only major contribution to policy being his fervent support for devolved government in North America. Under the leadership of the Marquess of Rockingham, the Patriots (who had always been only a faction of the dominant but divided Whigs) were reformed as the Liberals. The Tories, who had been viewed as a useless appendix whose raison d’être had long since vanished, benefited somewhat from the fall from grace of many major Whig grandees in the Frederician and Georgian periods and rebuilt their power base under the Earls of Bute and Exeter. They remained a bit of minor background noise in a political scene dominated by different Whig factions, but they survived.

With the ascent of the reform-minded Henry IX, Charles James Fox rose to power atop a new Radical faction of the Whigs, supported by independent Radicals and the remaining Liberals under Richard Burke. During the brief Henrician reign, the Foxites passed many parliamentary reforms, chiefly abolishing rotten boroughs and redistributing the seats to the new big industrial cities that lacked representation. The Fox Ministry faced an opposition made up mainly of conservative Tories and Whig aristocrats that seemed to make up the losing side of history. But matters changed drastically with the French invasion of England in 1807, the first invasion of English soil by the French since 1066.[2] London burned and the Palace of Westminster burned with it. Many MPs and Lords were killed, while others escaped to Fort Rockingham in the north where a remnant of Parliament was convened. With the deaths of Henry IX, his wife and his daughter, Great Britain was left with a boy king Frederick II on the throne and the need for decisive leadership. It found it, for better or for worse, in the notorious Tory John Spencer-Churchill, Duke of Marlborough. Having repulsed the French invasion, Churchill—as Lord Protector—dominated the recovery process.

Parliament seesawed in importance in the Marleburgensian period. It is untrue to regard the institution as having deteriorated to a rubber-stamp, as some have claimed, but Parliament certainly lacked the sovereignty it had possessed before the invasion. Elections in Great Britain had always been corrupt, but the creation of the PSC browncoats controlled by Churchill’s crony Conroy—and later Churchill’s own son—meant that Parliamentary elections were often subject to the whims of the Lord Protector. Voting turnout predictably fell, even though Fox’s reforms had theoretically increased the electorate and Churchill did not (formally) reverse these. When Frederick II rose to majority, Churchill was able to have himself made Prime Minister, upon which point Parliament began to gain in importance again as an arena for Churchill to achieve his agenda. Throughout the Marleburgensian period, Britain was formally governed by the Reform Coalition, the haphazard alliance of singed MPs that Churchill had put together in Fort Rockingham during the dark days of the invasion. The Coalition was made up principally of conservative Whigs and Tories, including some Liberals, but as the period wore on, often newer members stood on the ‘Phoenix Party’ ticket, and this was often held to encompass the whole of the Coalition. Somewhat surprisingly for a movement founded to oppose a bloody-flag Jacobin invasion, the Phoenix Party used red as its colour to evoke the titular phoenix rising from the flames. The Phoenix Party stood principally for industrial development to repair Britain’s shattered economy, no matter who was crushed in the wheels of progress.

Although elections were often subject to interference by the browncoats, an opposition of sorts remained. Some independent Liberal Whigs remained, and there was a significant Radical Whig faction, the heirs to Fox—although no more independent Radicals due to Churchill’s interference in election procedures. Perhaps the most surprising of the opposition groups was William Wyndham’s oppositionist Tories. Embracing the same English paleoconservative tradition that had produced Churchill himself, the Wyndhamites focused on attacking Churchill for having abandoned that tradition by promoting industrial development, boosting the self-made captains of industry at the expense of the landed gentry. Steward ideology[3] informed the Wyndhamite Tories’ views.

With the death of Churchill under suspicious circumstances in 1825, his son Joshua rapidly rose to power,[4] thus leading to the most significant change in the structure of the British Parliament yet with the Inglorious Revolution...

*

From: “Britain and the Popular Wars” by Michael Korsakoff, 1954—

Joshua Churchill is one of those men, like Jean de Lisieux and Pablo Sanchez, who has been so over-analysed by the alienists[5] (professional and amateur) that attempting to gain a glimpse of the real individual is probably doomed to failure. Nonetheless we must try. Let us cast aside ascribing undue significance to childhood incidents involving setting cats on fire and simply look at the man’s short and unhappy period in power.

Something of a rift had developed between father and son after Joshua’s excessive revenge on Scottish dissidents by demolishing St Giles’ Cathedral in Edinburgh in 1814. However, Joshua wormed his way back into his father’s good graces and, with the death of Conroy in 1819, rose to command the Public Safety Constables or ‘browncoats’. This was his real power base, and he used it just as Jean de Lisieux and other French Revolutionary figures had with the Sans-Culottes. Though he acted on his father’s orders, it was thus Joshua who was ultimately responsible for browncoat interference in elections along with arbitrary arrest and deportations of undesirable figures. It would appear that he gained an exaggerated idea of his own importance within the system, and that all other institutions were meaningless.

Thus it was in 1825 that, being the first man on the scene for his father’s death (a fact that has not gone entirely unnoticed by conspiracy theorists), Joshua acted quickly and attempted simply to replace his father as Prime Minister. He went directly to Frederick II, who he had known since childhood. Although the young King had never been close to Joshua, he had been filled with warnings from Churchill the elder about the potential for the country to go to wrack and ruin if a moment of weakness was shown to the Radicals, whom Churchill blamed for the French invasion of 1807 and the ensuing destruction. Joshua, aided by lickspittle advisors in the court, convinced Frederick that he could obtain support from the Phoenix Party in Parliament and take over from his father in a smooth transition of power. In what he later described as his greatest mistake, the King reluctantly agreed and formally asked him to form a government.

It is likely Joshua’s attempt would have been doomed to failure if he had not been first on the scene, but when he entered Parliament as Prime Minister, the death of his father was still nothing more than a wild rumour amid the Phoenix Party (and opposition) benches. Joshua addressed Parliament with the bold arrogance that typified his speeches, accompanied by vague but dark-sounding threats aimed at ‘subversive elements’ who would seek to undo his father’s accomplishments. In particular he claimed that it had been a Runnymede Movement supporter who had killed his father, spoke of the need to ban the movement (which was still in its infancy and not widely known) and accused the Radicals of being stooges of such bomb-throwing Jacobins.

In order to appreciate the events that took place, the changes made to Parliament in the Marleburgensian period must be understood. With the destruction of the Palace of Westminster in 1807, the remnant of Parliament had been forced to meet in different places around the country. Initially the Mansion House of Doncaster, neighbouring Fort Rockingham, played a (cramped) host to the MPs and Lords. From 1808 onwards Parliament moved to the Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford, which was normally occupied by the House of Congregation of the University of Oxford.[6] The New Palace of Westminster would not be completed until 1812, at which time Parliament moved in. New Westminster, in contrast to the Orientalist style sweeping London at the time, was made as a cold and dignified neoclassical building with only the occasional touch of Persian style to enliven the marble Doric columns. Much of the planning work had fallen to the Royal Committee for Transport and Freight Improvement under Arthur Churchill (Joshua’s brother), and the design was characterised by the RCTFI’s reputation for thinking ahead and using conservative estimates to allow for future expansion. Whereas Old Westminster had often been a cramped place, both the new Houses of Commons and Lords were larger than they needed to be. The RCTFI had not truly thought through the implications of this. The new Houses, both done in the style of Roman ampitheatres (but with the characteristic opposing benches of the Westminster system) looked imposing and empty, sparsely populated even when every MP or peer was in attendance. Coupled with the neoclassical style, they looked like dusty ruins rather than modern organs of government.[7] The size and slightly awkward nature of the marble benches meant that a tradition born in the Danian and Oxonian exilic days of Parliament also survived: MPs no longer voted by rising and walking into either the Aye or No lobby. Such lobbies were included in the design of New Westminster, but were rarely used and eventually repurposed. Instead, MPs voted according to a system loosely inspired by ancient Athenian practices: each parliamentarian had a paddle coloured black on one side for nay and white on the other for aye.[8] The Speaker would observe a vote by eye, and if neither black nor white obviously predominated, would then take a count.[9]

Joshua Churchill went on and on in his speech (or rant have some have called it), accompanied by frosty glares from the Radicals, alarmed looks from the Phoenix backbenchers behind him, and amused looks from William Wyndham. Joshua was not helped by the fact that—in another oversight by his brother—the Commons chamber possessed odd acoustics. The regular Members had learned to pitch their voices to compensate, but though Joshua was formally an MP via an uncontested pocket borough, he had rarely entered the Palace and had never spoken there before. He came across as weedy and echoey in tone and soon made himself hoarse. When he finally subsided, silence reigned in the palace for almost a minute.

Finally, the Radical leader, David Attwood, rose to his feet and spoke. “I thank the honourable gentleman—” he began, only to be consumed by roars from both sides of the House. He had not called Churchill the right honourable gentleman, as he was entitled as a member of the Privy Council through being Prime Minister. Joshua himself tried to protest but, again, could not get his voice to carry through the chamber, and it was the experienced Attwood who regained the initiative. “I thank the honourable gentleman for his very interesting speech,” Attwood said dryly, “and I will be sure to make a careful survey underneath my bed prior to my post-prandial nap, lest indeed there be Jean de Lisieux hiding there pulling my strings as the honourable gentleman alleges. But now I believe it is time to turn to the government of this country. It seems our right honourable friend, the Duke of Marlborough—” (more murmurs) “—has left this mortal coil. We have had our differences with the gentleman, many differences. But nonetheless he did his best to govern this country as he saw fit, and he sacrificed much to do it. We should honour his memory. And then we should look to finding a gentleman who may stand a chance of filling his shoes.” Attwood took a long look at Joshua. “I fear I do not see such a man before me.”

The uproar rose again, with some Phoenix members—but, it was becoming obvious, not so many—shouting to defend Joshua. The Speaker, Henry Grosvenor, was himself well acquainted with Churchill and had been amenable towards the Duke—it is likely that he would not have kept his place for so long without him. But he looked at the red-faced Joshua with misgivings and, finally, turned to William Wyndham, allowing the Tory leader to speak.

“I thank my honourable friend for his response to the very interesting speech we have all heard,” Wyndham said, turning sideways to Attwood, deliberately ignoring Joshua. “No gentleman here should need informing of the fact that my honourable friend Mr Atwood and myself are quite, quite opposed in matters of state and political judgement. But party politics should not prevent two intelligent human beings from standing together, looking at the sky, and remarking: That is blue! There are clouds in it! There is a sun! Later, it shall be black, it shall have stars, it shall have a moon! And thus I find myself forced to admit that there is nothing in my honourable friend’s statement that I can disagree with.”

There was more uproar, and Joshua managed to get a few words heard amidst it, something about ‘—for treason—’.

Wyndham raised a hand. “I fear I have not yet concluded. There remains one minor matter for the House to consider.” He paused, looked around the great chamber with a measuring look in his eyes, particularly seeking out the Phoenix Party backbenchers who avoided his gaze. “Mr Speaker, I move that this House can invest no confidence in the individual facing us and claiming to be Prime Minister. I move that he should resign. I move that this kingdom should return to a representative and constitutional form of government!”

The uproar that had preceded Wyndham’s statement was as nothing before the one that followed it. Phoenix Party members were rising off the government benches as though to physically attack the Opposition, though again the Roman-style benches made this rather difficult. Wyndham stood firm with his arms folded, and as the furore began to die down, Atwood spoke again: “I second the motion!”

Within seconds, virtually the entire opposition benches were shouting in support of the motion—and Joshua realised to his horror that a few voices were shouting behind him as well. The Speaker nodded and took the vote, the MPs raising their paddles. It is said, though not attested by witnesses, that Joshua was so shocked (and inexperienced in actually voting in Parliament) that he failed to cast his own vote.

Almost all the opposition members raised their paddles with the white side outwards. But the Phoenix Party possessed a significant majority. Joshua turned to see more than a third of his father’s party had cast a white aye, and many more raised an empty hand, abstaining. Less than half of the Phoenix Party supported him.

He was unable to speak as Grosvenor spoke: “The ayes have it,” he said. “This matter is somewhat unprecedented,” he added,[10] “but the vote is binding. I must ask the honourable gentleman—” Either deliberately or accidentally, he too failed to give Joshua his title “—to return to New St. James’[11] and tender his resignation to His Majesty the King.”

A hushed silence fell over the House. Finally Joshua spoke: “I knew that treason had infiltrated this body, but I did not know that the cancer was quite so virulent. Let us cut it out—now!”

The MPs let out a cry of shock as Joshua pulled out a pistol and, after apparently momentarily hesitating between Attwood and Wyndham—so much history turns on that decision—he shot the Radical leader in the chest. The Opposition surged forward to seize him, but PSC browncoats were already bursting into the House. The Serjeant-at-Arms, Sir David Collingwood, was overwhelmed by a browncoat attack and struck on the head with a cosh, accidentally killing him and raising the death toll to two. Four more MPs (and five browncoats) met their deaths in the ensuing scuffle, though many MPs escaped, including Wyndham. The scene evoked the beginning of the English Civil War in 1642, when Charles I had made a botched attempt to arrest dissident MPs in the Commons.

Events now accelerated apace. Joshua had most of the House of Commons imprisoned in the Phoenix Tower—the new political prison and military arsenal that the RCTFI had built atop the ruins of the old Tower of London, destroyed by General Gabin’s guns a generation before. He announced his intention to have the King dissolve Parliament and then reconvene it as the House of Lords alone—the Lords had supported his father and, after the ‘Death Vote’ (as it became known) knew what was good for them. However, Joshua did not immediately approach the King. He was wise enough to realise that distorted rumours of Attwood and Wyndham’s demands were spreading through the city, and men might think that he was going to the King to resign. Initially he sent intermediaries, only to receive no response. He did not go to St James’ Palace until two days later.

To find that King Frederick had fled. Told of Joshua’s actions in Parliament to his horror and fearing that the browncoats might come for himself next, Frederick disguised himself and went to Windsor, where he used his contacts with the local people to secure transport on a ship overseas. Frederick’s move has been analysed and criticised, not least by Frederick himself. In later life he wrote that he felt guilty for abandoning his people to the monster and could not convince himself that he had fled solely because Joshua might be able to use him to gain legitimacy for his regime: some of it was just fear. He was always haunted by the thought that he could have stood up to Joshua when the man first demanded to be made Prime Minister—perhaps not successfully, but it might have at least checked his rise to power. As it was, he never quite escaped the epithet of King Runaway, and that would have important consequences in Britain after the Popular Wars.

Frederick also agonised about where he should have gone in exile. In retrospect he said that he even considered going to France, of all places, despite the unfortunate implications. He considered Ireland, and in his memoirs wrote of how he still had nightmares about what new horror might have struck that often unhappy country if he had. But in the end he was convinced that there was only one place where he could be surrounded by his subjects, yet free from Joshua’s Unnumbered spies and browncoat henchmen.

Thus it was that, like his great-grandfather and namesake, Frederick II found himself exiled to America...




[1] Actually, the Magna Carta wasn’t signed, as John (like most monarchs of the period) was illiterate; it was sealed. This is a common mistake made even by historians, however.

[2] This is completely untrue, but again is a common mistake.

[3] An anachronistic description.

[4] See Part #114.

[5] Psychologists.

[6] The so-called “parliament of the Dons”, one of the most democratic institutions in the kingdom in this period. Cambridge formerly had (and in OTL still has) its Regent House congregation, meeting in the Senate House, but due to the damage and rebuilding to the university in TTL this has been replaced with a new University Council.

[7] In OTL Winston Churchill foresaw this when they rebuilt the House of Commons, and deliberately did not make it large enough to seat all the MPs—realising that the chamber would look far too empty based on the usual attendance at debates.

[8] This is slightly incorrect. The author is ascribing to the Athenians the practice of secret voting by placing a black or white ball (the ballot, hence why this term is now used for voting papers) into an urn or box as one’s vote. The author is thinking of the Athenians’ practice of exiling citizens by scratching their names onto potsherds to vote: the black or white ball system (hence the phrase ‘blackballing’) is probably a later invention.

[9] In the earlier system (still used in OTL), members shout ‘aye’ or ‘nay’, and it’s when there is no obvious predominant call that the Speaker calls for a formal vote.

[10] In OTL the first motion of no confidence was in 1782, when Lord North’s mishandling of the American War of Independence led to his government being toppled. Parliamentary history, both in Britain and elsewhere, is considerably altered in TTL from the fact that confidence motions do not appear until ‘now’, in 1825.

[11] The royal residence. In OTL it was used up until the 1830s, but a fire in 1809 meant the monarchs increasingly spent more time in Buckingham House (later Buckingham Palace). In TTL St James’ was destroyed in the Second Great Fire of London and rebuild, just like the Palace of Westminster, while Buckingham House (still owned by the Dukes of Buckingham in TTL) was never rebuilt, eventually being replaced by new housing developments.

[Turquoise Blue]

Wow... A brilliant update like always!

[My Username is Inigo Montoya]

A very interesting update