A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain
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Chapter 137: Lost Without Hope
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Chapter 137: Lost Without Hope
June, 1709
June, 1709
Louis, Duke of Burgundy and second in line to the throne of the most ancient Kingdom of France watched as the servants attended to his grandsire, King Louis, the Sun King. His grandsire had aged rapidly since the end of the war, or perhaps during the course of the war. He spent more time abed, and more time with his mistress or wife, than he did attending to affairs of state. Louis had picked up the burden there, ensuring that things functioned properly according to the dictates of his grandsire. It was somewhat fascinating and horrifying to Louis to see how his grandsire, this giant of a man was slowly being reduced in mortality.
Once the servants were finished, the King beckoned him forward. “Louis.” His grandsire said. “You are well?”
“I am, Sire.” Louis said, he knew to ask after his grandsire’s health would be inappropriate, so instead he said. “Marie and the children say hello also.” His wife and children had gone to visit his father in Paris, to get away from the stuffiness of court for a time.
“Good, good. How is your boy getting along?” The King asked.
“He is well, Sire. He is now fully reading from the Bible and learning his letters and words properly.” Louis said. His son and namesake was the light of his world and the future of the dynasty.
“Good, that is very good.” The King said. “Now, we have asked you here to discuss certain things. These things cannot leave this room, do you understand?”
“I do, Sire.” Louis replied.
“Good.” The King sat up and winced at the pain. “Now, we have been at peace for a few months now, but we can tell you that there will be another war soon. Spain will want Naples back, and your brother, our grandson is not as secure as he thinks he might be.”
“Sire?” Louis asked. He did not think that the Spanish were in any position to wage war.
“Oh, we know that the Spanish are facing a financial crisis, but the British might well fund them again. Therefore, you must find a way to handle the British. What would you do?”
“A marriage perhaps, a trade negotiation also.” Louis said instantly. He thought the trade negotiation might happen more easily than the marriage, considering how the previous French marriage had gone.
His grandsire nodded. “A smart proposal, we thinking adding a marriage proposal onto the trade negotiations would be sensible. Propose your daughter to the Prince of Wales’ son and heir, that way their Parliament cannot raise objections to it.”
“And if they do?” Louis asked, unsure if he truly wanted to go down that route.
“Then you shall offer one of Orleans daughters.” The King said. “It is important that you do not offer a male Bourbon to the British, for then the trade negotiations will go nowhere.”
“As you say, Sire.” Louis said. He paused and then asked. “What of the Dutch? We have had reports that William of Orange is ailing and that he might well not see his son chosen as Stadholder. Should we get involved there?”
The King shook his head. “No, to do so now would bring another war. We must have allies to ensure that when the next war does come we are prepared for it.”
Louis nodded. “There has been some controversy over Bavaria, Sire. I have proposed that we support the King of Spain’s brother or that we suggest some other candidate. However, other members of the council have been opposed to this, suggesting keeping the King of Spain invested in Spain is the perfect leverage that we need.”
Something passed over the King’s face and then he said. “We support you. We would support a proposal to see Maximilian’s brother become Elector, so long as he marries a French Princess or a bride we support.”
“I shall put that to the council, Sire.” Louis said.
“Good.” The King said. “You may leave now; we are growing tired.”
Louis kissed his grandsire’s ring and then left. As he walked back to his own rooms, he thought over what he had seen and what he had discussed with the King. He did not think the King would survive the year. His wife was already ailing herself. He would not long outlive her.
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Chapter 138: Karolus Rex
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Chapter 138: Karolus Rex
August, 1709
Charles looked around the room and tried to contain the anger he felt. His wife had given birth to a stillborn son two days ago, and the doctors were telling him that if she got pregnant again she might not survive. There was definitely no chance of anymore surviving children and so they had quarrelled, she had told him to do his duty and he had told her he would not risk her. And now they weren’t speaking to one another. Charles took a deep drink of ale and then looked at the members of his council.
“Well?” He all but snapped. “What word do you bring us?” He had heard reports that the Prussians were planning something, had been planning something for some time. And now, well now he wasn’t sure what to think.
“Sire,” that was Field Marshal Carl Gustav speaking then one of the few men Charles actually trusted. “The Prussians sent men into our land of Pomerania and caused discord and disquiet. They raided villages and raped women and burned homes down. They are claiming that it was done in retaliation for something that one of our generals did a few months back.”
“And?” Charles asked. “Is there any proof that this general did anything of the sort?” He wouldn’t blame him if he had done, the Prussians needed to be taught a lesson.
“No, Sire. I have spoken with General Wilhelm and he assures me none of the men under his command would ever think of doing something such as that.” Carl replied.
Charles snorted. “Then of course that oaf Frederick merely wants an excuse to declare war on us. He is testing us to see how we respond. And at the first sign of weakness he will respond with violence.” Charles looked about the room and picked on Albert, his finance minister. “Tell us, Albert, do you think Frederick will merely let things stand as they are now, when trade is at risk?”
Albert was one of the few people who had ever dared question his policies, preferring peace over anything else. “I do not think he will stop Sire.” Albert replied surprising Charles. “I think that now he knows where we are vulnerable he will continue pushing until he has all of Pomerania, and that will be dangerous for us.”
“So, you would support a war of aggression then?” Charles asked, wondering what had brought about his finance minister’s change of mind.
“I would, Sire. For we need the whole of Pomerania to continue the reforms to the military you have suggested.” Albert said.
Charles nodded, he looked around at the council of ministers and asked. “Is there anyone here who objects to the preparation for war?” He knew someone would object, there was always one.
And as if on cue, Frederick, a member of the hats raised his hand. “Sire, I think there must be some way to clear up this misunderstanding with Prussia without the need to bring war about. We are looking at facing Prussia, Poland and Russia should things go awry. I think appealing to the Emperor would be best.”
Charles laughed. “The Emperor is far too busy thinking of ways to knock the Ottomans out of Europe to be bothered with this. No, we shall handle the Prussians the way we should have done before. And what of their allies? Poland’s army is weak, Russia is a vast monster ruled by an idiot. We have Saxony.” He said with a confidence he did not quite feel. “Send word to General Wilhelm to begin the retaliation, we shall join him shortly.”
“Yes Your Majesty.” Carl said.
Chapter 139: Anne's Desire
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Chapter 139: Anne’s Desire
November, 1709
November, 1709
The pain of not having George at her side was one that Anne did not think she would ever get over. The days were long and her desire to do anything other than sleep and read the letters she and George had written to one another had long since disappeared. She knew that perhaps she should focus more on the ruling of the realm, but James seemed to be doing just fine. Indeed, the cabinet seemed to be far more compliant to his wishes than they’d ever been to hers. She was both proud of him and jealous of him. Of course, her son allowed her to make the big decisions, and that was something she was grateful for.
“Your Majesty, might I ask something?” That was Sarah, her friend and confidant. The woman had grown more demanding over time.
“Yes?” Anne asked, no longer having the energy to really argue with the woman.
“I had heard that His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales had considered merging the office of Commander in Chief of the Forces with Master General of the Ordinance, to lower costs, but that you had rejected that. Why is that might I ask?” Sarah asked.
Anne briefed herself, she suspected that there might be some sort of storm coming. She did not bother to look at Sarah, instead she looked at her hands as she replied. “The Commander in Chief is responsible for troop organisation, whilst the Master General is responsible for the arms and weaponry. We did not think it right to merge the two positions together for some cost cutting exercise. Regardless, the Duke of Berwick is a fine administrator and knows what he is doing.”
As she had expected, Sarah spoke her mind then. “You see, Your Majesty, whilst I might understand that if it were someone else who was Commander in Chief, I do feel that my husband has earned the right to manage everything about the forces. He is the one who won great victories during the Spanish War, and held together the Grand Alliance whilst William of Orange panicked. I believe that the Duke of Berwick, being of a junior rank to my husband must have time to learn his place.”
Anne raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Do you think our brother not capable of something as simple as management? Need we remind you that the only reason that the Duke of Marlborough was able to pull off many of the things he did was because our brother was there aiding him with perfect management.”
Sarah looked as if she’d been slapped. “The Duke did was he was bid by his superior. My husband has earned the right.”
“He has earned what we have given him, nothing more.” Anne said firmly.
Unexpectedly, Abigail spoke then. “I agree with Her Majesty. I think the Dukes are both in their appropriate positions and therefore we must accept that.”
Anne smiled at Abigail, and that seemed to have angered Sarah. “Nobody asked you, cousin. The adults are speaking now.”
Anne looked at Sarah and said. “We value Abigail’s judgement and we agree with her. Your husband has been content to sit as Commander in Chief of the Forces, and with a cabinet posting as well. You need not grasp for more, Sarah, it is most unbecoming of you.” The woman looked suitably chastised. “There is something else we wished to speak to you about.” Sarah looked up expectantly. “Our son has received an offer of marriage from Versailles, the Duke of Burgundy proposes his daughter for our grandson George. What do you think?”
“I think such a marriage would be a betrayal of the Spanish. It would be seen as us aligning with a country that threatens the balance of power in Europe. Louis of France is a man who will rest at nothing to ensure his country dominates everything. If we have a future French Queen that will only add to it. Do not forget how your grandmother was seen, Your Majesty.” Sarah said.
“I disagree.” Abigail said. “I think such a marriage would be good. Louis of France is ageing and dying, and his grandson is the future. We can bring together a good alliance to combat the Ottomans and perhaps ensure we get more of the spoils from the failing Spanish Empire.”
“The opposition will have a great time of that, when it comes for discussion in Parliament.” Sarah said then. “They will see it as trying to bring popery back into the realm. Memories are long, Your Majesty, none have forgotten what your father tried.”
Anne bristled. “We are not our father, and a French Princess is not a French Prince. Our grandson is being raised a devout Anglican. Our son is a devout Anglican. The opposition are nothing more than those who wish to bring discord to the realm for their own gains. They are torn between Devonshire and his cronies and others. We shall not listen to their objections for they are not well meaning.”
“As is your right, Your Majesty. You are the Queen; they are your subjects. They cannot dictate who you marry your children and grandchildren to.” Abigail said.
Anne smiled. “Indeed, you are right. Our son is marrying a cousin of the Prince of Orange and our daughter is betrothed to the heir to the Prince of Orange. We have nothing more to fear there. We shall tell our son to go ahead.” She saw Sarah’s frown, and she found that she did not care.
This last entry could’ve been worked into ‘The Favourite’! Great time line. So if the Duc D’Anjou just got Naples, then who gets Spain since at this point there’s only one living male Habsburg and the War was about maintaining the balance of power. So if France didn’t get one of there’s on the Spanish throne, who did?
Chapter 140: Shrewsbury's Concern
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Chapter 140: Shrewsbury’s Concern
January, 1710
January, 1710
Charles took a breath. He was not feeling as well as he perhaps should be. The winter was a long and harsh one, and he was no longer a young man. Though he was only a decade older than the Prince of Wales, he had been in government since he was about seventeen, and it was beginning to show, he feared. His hair was greying, his beard was definitely grey. Nothing he did could stop some of the blood that left him when he urinated. And his vision was growing weaker.
Still he retained his wits, and he used them now. “Your Royal Highness, whilst I appreciate that this proposed betrothal is only that, I must propose that it would be very difficult for the country and for Parliament itself to accept it.” He took a breath then continued. “It is one thing for a Princess to marry a Frenchman, and quite another for the future Queen of Britannia to be French. The people have long memories, and Your Royal Highness’s great-grandmother was not popular.”
The Prince of Wales said nothing, instead, Godolphin that man who had become the Prince’s closest advisor on these matters spoke. “The proposed Princess is not Her Majesty Queen Henrietta Maria. Indeed, the Duke of Burgundy has instead proposed that the Princess, his own daughter be sent to Whitehall to be raised and tutored. He is being very generous here. We would be foolish to dismiss it out of hand.”
Charles looked at the man, he did not like Godolphin had never liked him, but he admitted that the man was good at what he did. “I am not suggesting we dismiss it, Your Royal Highness. I am merely voicing those concerns that I know Parliament will themselves propose.”
“And there are things which Parliament will like.” Godolphin said again. “Such as the trade agreement that the Duke is proposing with the King of France’s authority, and the distribution of wealth taken from the slave trade.”
“And I think that those are things which we should also consider.” Charles said, feeling his patience thin. “However, I do not think we should forget that we have just concluded a war with France, and that the people and Parliament will want to know why we are betrothing the future King to a French Princess, when such a short time ago, France was our enemy.”
“Add onto that the fact that we are likely to see another war between France and Spain over Naples before the Sun King’s reign is done and I think we would be most wise to avoid tying ourselves to close to France.” Somerset said, and as Lord Privy Seal, and one of the Prince’s own appointments, Charles was sure the Prince would listen to him.
“I agree with you, Your Grace.” the Duke of Hamilton said. “France is too testy a kingdom to trust completely, and we cannot so easily abandon our principals to ally ourselves with them against our allies.”
Charles watched as something passed over the Prince’s face. He had remained calm and composed, and impressive feat for so young a man, throughout, and now he spoke. “You are all being far too presumptuous.” A pause, he took a breath then continued. “Her Majesty the Queen has already decided that this marriage will go through. The betrothal is going to be formalised soon. This discussion is merely a courtesy.” The Prince raised a ringed finger to stop any complaints. “We acknowledge the concerns you have mentioned, my lord, however, we find them lacking. The Princess will come to Britannia before her tenth birthday, and she shall be raised with our son, to know him properly. The Duke has given us his assurance that there will be no war with Spain so long as his grandsire lives still. Furthermore, trade will increase something we do desperately need. And finally, the slave trade will allow us to exploit Western Africa to bolster our fleet.”
Charles nodded, he was not surprised. The Queen could be quite firm when she wanted to be, and her son was a war hero, someone who stood his ground and only bent when he felt as though there were merit in it. “Very well, Your Royal Highness. However, I must warn you that Parliament will not be happy. They will want to know what religion the future Queen will have.”
“She will follow her own religion for a time and then if we deem it appropriate she will convert. Nothing more, nothing less.” The Prince said. “Furthermore, it is not for Parliament to decide who members of the family can marry.”
“Of course not, Your Royal Highness.” Charles said, bowing his head.
Robert Harley, a new member of the cabinet, and a cousin of the Queen’s new favourite Abigail Masham, spoke then. “One thing that could be used to distract from this whole matter, is the religious bill that was proposed by the Earl of Dorset.”
Charles seized on that. “Agreed, I think that the more time spent debating that bill will be time that they cannot complain about this marriage.”
“What exactly is the wording of the bill?” The Prince asked.
“That those who follow the more High Church view be allowed to hold government positions and posts. And that there be some concessions for those who follow the Presbyterian and puritan faiths, providing they pay a fee.” Charles said.
Something flickered in the Prince’s face, and then he said. “Very well. We shall leave that discussion to you.”
Chapter 141: Emperor's New Clothes
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Chapter 141: Emperor’s New Clothes
March, 1710
March, 1710
Joseph had been Emperor for almost a decade, and yet there were new challenges emerging almost daily. His father had been a good man, and a hard worker, but he had not been very imaginative in his thinking. He had kept a lot of the old structures in place, and so the empire and their hereditary lands kept moving on, but at a loss. Joseph had been happy when the war with France had ended, for it meant that he had not had to keep sending money to pay an army he would rather have in his homelands ensuring peace there. His council had moved away from war preparations to reform discussions and financial arguments, and he found he preferred those.
Joseph looked at Leopold, the heir to the Grand Duchy of Tuscany who had chosen to remain in Vienna for the time being, whilst his wife-Joseph’s sister- and their children moved to Tuscany. “Leopold, tell us, what way do you think the crown tax will go?” The Crown Tax was a proposal that Joseph had come up with, he wanted it to raise the profits of the interlinking lands to bring the Empire’s crownlands closer together.
“Sire, I think that the Crown Tax will be received well in Hannover, after all they are nearer to the French and therefore they will want to keep you onside. However, I think places like Bavaria and Baden might find it harder to bear the brunt, considering their own distance from Vienna.” Leopold said. That was one of the things that Joseph liked about his brother by marriage, he was a straight talker.
“And how would you propose we ensure that they get the message clear and simple. That this tax is meant to ensure they do not need to rely on outside loans for their development.” Joseph asked.
Leopold did not say anything for a moment and then he said. “I think a grand progress around the Empire would do the trick, Sire. Right now, one gets the feeling that the Princes are content to keep you a safe distance away so that their own privileges are not challenged. I think it would do the realm some good if they remembered you existed outside the framework of war.”
Ernst August Metternich, his treasurer spoke. “Sire, I must object. I think that a grand progress will do more to remind the Princes of Empire of the worst of the Emperor’s purple, and make them consider the Crown Tax to be little more than just more excess. Certainly, should King Louis learn that you are doing this, then he would use his agents to spread lies.”
“We do not fear King Louis.” Joseph replied. Unlike his father, Joseph saw Louis for what he was. An arrogant old man who had overextended his hand too many times and was left without allies. “Besides, we have just as good an agent system as he does. We would counter whatever lies he would spread with our own.”
“There is also the issue of Bavaria, Sire.” Metternich added.
“What of it?” Joseph demanded. Bavaria, was technically still under the rule of Joseph’s brother by marriage King Maximillian, however, the laws had been passed in such a way that ensuring the rulership was not held by a foreign power was tantamount. There had been a lawsuit since the end of the war between Maximilian and his brother.
“Well the lawsuit is coming to a final conclusion, and perhaps it would be better to wait until it is decided before doing anything such as a progress.” Metternich replied.
“It has been at that stage for three months now. We cannot wait any longer.” Joseph said. “We shall not wait any longer. Our decision was that Bavaria goes to our sister’s second son. If the courts wish that to stand then they will, if not then Maximilian’s brother is the new Elector and he will join us during our progress.”
Metternich bowed his head in acceptance, and Prince Eugene of Savoy his military minister spoke then. “There has been news from Pomerania, which might be of more interest to you, Sire.”
“Go ahead.” Joseph said, he hated the Prussians, saw them as far too grasping by half, but he also thought that King Charles was an idiot.
“The Swedes have taken the northern bank of Prussian Pomerania, and Duke Frederick took an injury during the Battle of the Forests, which seems to have grown worse. His son Frederick William has taken command over the overall Prussian forces. It also appears that the Polish are getting involved, with their King mobilising forces into Prussian heartlands.” Eugene said.
“Good, and what of the others?” Joseph asked, mainly thinking about Russia, who he knew desired a port.
“They have remained neutral so far, though I believe more will join. Many want the Swedish defeated.” Eugene said.
“Let them fight. Whoever gets all of Pomerania will simply see their taxation rate increase.” Joseph said.
The Prince nodded, Joseph turned to Leopold and said. “Begin organising the progress, we shall want to ensure that things are properly structured.”
“Yes Sire.” Leopold replied.
Joseph smiled, he would bring his son and heir Leopold with him, let the boy get a sense of how it would be for him also.
There's always going to be an opposition that use events like that to their advantage. I think the marriage could go forward without too much trouble, but the Prince of Wales probably needs to take control of the narrative instead of allowing the opposition to. Lay out a coherent foreign policy, make guarantees to their former anti-French allies, illustrate Britain's 'line in the sand' for France going forward, etc.
He needs to make clear that this is a move to reconcile somewhat with France to allow Britain to step back slightly in its rivalry with France, giving it more diplomatic freedom moving forward. Not a total realignment of Britain's foreign policy by allying with France.
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Agreed there and with the opposition I chaos I think the prince of wales should be able to do that. So long as he doesn’t give into hubris
Chapter 142: Desperate Prussians
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Chapter 142: Desperate Prussians
July, 1710
July, 1710
The war had been going on for far longer than he had thought it would. Frederick had not thought that the Swedish army would be as strong as it was proving to be. Furthermore, he had underestimated King Charles. He had thought the boy would be green as grass, and though he was, he had shown he had some military sense. The defeats Frederick had suffered humiliated him. The wounds he had taken in the Battle of the Forest still stung all these months later. His son and heir Frederick William had just about managed to stem the tide, but things were still looking bad for them.
Frederick took a moment to compose himself then said. “We are nowhere near achieving the things that we had hoped we would. We are looking at a possible defeat, and that is not something that we should be happy with.” He paused, looked around and then said. “Solutions?”
His son Frederick William spoke then. “I say we move into Swedish Pomerania, we march forward and we do not stop attacking until we have gotten a victory. They are pushing us into retreat, that is why they are coming. We must reverse that.”
Frederick’s brother Philip William spoke then. “Such a move would be suicidal, Your Grace. If we did that we would be playing right into the hands of King Charles.”
“How?” Frederick William demanded. “He expects us to keep retreating until we reach Berlin. I say we fight back.”
“You would give the man a chance to portray us as scared.” Philip William replied. “King Charles is relying on us doing something rash, something he knows we cannot defend.”
“We have the support of the Polish King and potentially the Russians as well. We need to show some initiative, otherwise we will lose this and lose Pomerania.” Frederick William fired back.
“The Polish are more likely to want to take Prussia from us than aid us.” Philip William retorted. “Their King is an ambitious man who wants to consolidate his own power. By aiding us, he’s playing into the hands of the nobles who think him a fool.”
“Then we must ensure that we give them all reasons to think about supporting us. I say we move forward and attack.” Frederick William said.
“Your Grace, this would be most irresponsible.” Philip William said to him then, his eyes pleading.
Frederick looked at his brother and wondered at him, ever since their defeat at the Forest, his brother had been urged retreat, retreat, retreat. It left a sour taste in his mouth. Frederick looked at his son then and asked. “What is our position?”
His son looked slightly taken aback by his question, but continued. “We have some twelve thousand men ready and willing to fight, with a further twenty thousand in reserve in the south, ready to be called on. We have enough food and supplies to last through to the end of the year.”
“And our commanders’ morale?” Frederick asked. It was important to have high morale amongst the commanders, otherwise nothing good would happen.
“They are high, they are angry and want revenge against King Charles and Sweden.” His son replied.
Frederick nodded. “Good, then we shall take the fight to Sweden.” Before his brother could protest he said. “It is the only way to ensure that we are not swallowed up by the Swedish advance, and the only way to ensure that our allies know that we are taking this all seriously.”
“And the cost?” His brother asked. “How will you afford the cost, Your Grace?”
“We shall raise the incremental tax level by two percent and ensure it is collected.” Frederick said. “We shall also have our pamphleteers employ the proposition that if the Swedes do well here, then we are all finished.”
His brother said nothing, but his son said. “An excellent plan, Your Grace.”
Chapter 143: The White Room Pact
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Chapter 143: The White Room Pact
September, 1710
September, 1710
Hampton Court Palace, allowed them the chance to breathe. James had spent much of his life at Whitehall, that towering structure near the Thames, which was bigger than Versailles according to every architect he spoke to. He loved Whitehall, but at times it could be suffocating. Hampton Court was smaller, and perhaps a greater relief in that sense. Therefore, he had decided to move here for a time, with his wife and their young family. The court had surprisingly followed him here, whilst his Mother and Queen had stayed at Whitehall, with half the court. The old people, as John called them. James had been happy to have his best friend back from Ireland, where he’d been for some time on army duty.
However, it was not John that James was meeting now, but instead the leader of his mother’s government, Sidney Godolphin, Lord High Treasurer. Godolphin who had been made a Viscount some years ago, had replaced Shrewsbury as the leading minister in his mother’s government, thanks to his shrewd wit, and his ability to find money for the war from somewhere. James liked the man, even if he did consort with those bloody Whigs. James looked at the man and saw the lines on his face, and surmised he might well be dead by year’s end. “My lord Godolphin,” he began. “We thank you for meeting with us.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness. How might I be of service to you?” Godolphin replied.
James decided he did not want to go about the long weaving conversations that had become part of life at Whitehall, instead he plunged right into what he wanted to discuss. “As we are sure you are aware, my lord, Her Majesty has begun to feel that Sarah Churchill, the Duchess of Marlborough has begun to overstep her bounds, the latest incident in the Cock Pit was most unfortunate.” He paused then allowing his words to sink in, Churchill had insulted his mother, with some derogatory comment after his mother’s gout had started playing up. He had nearly hit the woman then, only Caroline’s hand on his arm had stopped him. Godolphin was good friends with the Churchills, and he wanted the man to know where this was going. “Consequently, it appears that Her Majesty has decided to change things around her. Many of her old ladies have been removed, and the new ladies such as the wife of the Duke of Bedford, and the Earl of Rutland have been placed around her, alongside, the Duke of Marlborough’s daughter Anne. However, the main cause for our concern is the presence of Abigail Masham.” James paused and allowed his words to settle down.
Eventually, Godolphin spoke. “You are worried that Masham might be more of a cancerous influence on Her Majesty?”
James nodded. “Precisely, Godolphin. Her Majesty has not been the same since our father died, of that we can both agree.” Godolphin nodded in agreement. “Consequently, she has become more prone to falling under the influence of cancerous influences. Lady Sarah is well intentioned, but she is prone to overstepping her bounds, but she is a lady of noble birth. Lady Masham is nothing more than an upstart. Consequently, we wish to protect Her Majesty from this lady’s degenerate personality.”
“I shall ask my lady wife if she can find something on Lady Masham to use against her. The court gossips can then do the rest.” Godolphin said.
“Good.” James said. “There is one other thing that we wished to speak about.”
“Your Royal Highness?” Godolphin asked.
“Her Majesty wants Robert Harley promoted to some position in government, she says that Charles Fox is not doing his duty as Chancellor properly.” James said. He did not like Harley, the man might be a Tory but he was definitely a rogue and someone James wanted gone. His Mother was still Queen though.
Godolphin, who leaned more toward the Whig persuasion, though he was a light Tory looked very discomfited by this, he hated Harley, James knew. “Your Royal Highness, that might be an issue. Sir Stephen Fox, Charles’s father runs The Guardian and has always wanted his son in the role he held himself. Harley is from the faction of the Tory party which is opposed to much of what you want to achieve.”
James sighed. “We know this, Godolphin. And yet this is what Her Majesty wants. Therefore, we must find some way to make it happen without damaging our reforms.”
Godolphin looked pensive for a moment then he said. “Why not keep Charles Fox as Paymaster of the Forces, that is something he will excel at, he likes the military, and as such has said on numerous occasions that he wishes to do more for them. Keep him there, and appoint Harley as Chancellor, as Her Majesty wants. However, Harley would then be made Second Lord of the Treasury and therefore subject to me and mine own approval, therefore meaning he cannot act without my approval.”
James thought on this for a moment and then smiled. “We like it. It will give Harley the sliver of power he craves, it will appease Her Majesty, and it will ensure that we can therefore limit the amount of damage that Harley can do. Perfect.”
“Always happy to be of service, Your Royal Highness.” Godolphin replied.
James smiled, stood up, clapped the man on the shoulder and said. “Now, go and get some rest, Sidney, we shall be meeting to discuss government business on the morrow.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” Godolphin replied.
Chapter 144: Desert Storm
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Chapter 144: Desert Storm
November, 1710
November, 1710
Raif felt his hand shake and he fought down the urge to scream. He hated this. Hated that since the war which had seen him placed on the Peacock throne that his hands had shook and that he would wake in the middle of the night with no idea where he was, thinking he was on the battlefield. This was his curse. To be plagued with dreams and fears forevermore. His cousin’s unseeing eyes were a constant plague to him. They prevented him from getting any semblance of sleep or rest during the night, and during the day, they taunted him.
He had fought against the urge to drink since he had ascended the Peacock Throne, indeed he had not even touched a drop of wine since he had ascended the throne. And now he was starting to wish that he had. He sighed, took a breath and then spoke. “What word do you have for us?”
Syed Abdullah Khan his chief finance minister spoke. “Sire, there has been word from Kabul. The governor there reports that the clans are refusing to pay their taxes unless they get some form of tax cut for the next financial year.”
Raif raised an eyebrow, he had hidden in Kabul during his cousin’s reign. He knew the tribes there, they did not speak of such things. They did not care for them. Therefore, he asked. “Is it the tribes, or is it the nobles?”
Abdullah Khan bowed his head. “You are right, Sire. It is the nobles. They consider the taxation that has been levied to be too extreme and wish for it to be reduced. They claim that they will withhold the taxation until such a time as Your Imperial Majesty agrees to their demands.”
Raif looked at the man and said. “Do not lie to us about this, Abdullah. We know that the nobles have never quite understood the need to move to more formal methods of taxation, but here we are.” He thought for a moment and then asked. “What of the tribes, how are they standing on this issue?”
Syed Abdullah smiled. “Sire, they are most happy to involve themselves in challenging the nobles. Indeed one of their number, Syed Durrani has stated that he would gladly bash the head in of the nobles in Kabul, in return for greater say for the tribes.”
Raif laughed. He knew Syed Durrani, the man was as big as an elephant and as strong as one. The thought of him in charge of things was an amusing thought. “See it done then.” He commanded. Abdullah nodded, though Raif could tell he did not approve, the man came from a powerful family, and Raif knew he wanted Raif to be bedridden. He would not give him that honour.
“There is another matter, Sire.” The other Syed said.
“Go on.” Raif said, already dreading this.
“The Marathas are beginning to create a fuss, Sire.” The other Syed said. “They are claiming that they have been unfairly treated since the treaty a year ago, and are now claiming that they themselves will take command of their affairs.”
Raif raised an eyebrow and felt his hands begin to shake. “They have already had control over their own affairs. We have only asked that they pay the fee to recognise Delhi’s supremacy. What complaints do they have?” He suspected that this was something that that insufferable man Sambhaji had concoted to justify another campaign.
“Sire, they are claiming that you have unfairly taxed them in regions where they have no say.” The other Syed said.
“Which regions?” Raif asked, though he could feel the tiredness coming over him again.
“The Rajput Kingdoms and near the seven Islands.” The Other Syed replied.
Raif laughed. “Of course, they would seek to use that loophole.” He paused and then added. “Send word to the British in the Seven Islands, tell them we shall consider reducing their tariffs if they are willing to do a favour for us.”
“Is that wise, Sire? The British are snakes waiting in the grass.” Syed Abdullah said.
“Ahh, but the Marathas hate them more than they hate us, and you know the saying.” Raif replied. He looked at the other Syed and said. “Send the letter.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” The other Syed said.
Raif nodded, looked at his hands and said. “That is all for today, thank you.” With that he got up and walked out of the throne room, his head hurting and his hands shaking
Chapter 145: Ansbach Waltz
VVD0D95
Banned
Chapter 145: Ansbach Waltz
February, 1711
February, 1711
Caroline looked on as her eldest son George danced with his sister Anne, George had her nose, and his father’s eyes, whilst Anne had her father’s nose and her eyes. James, their youngest child, was walking around trying to follow his two older siblings. She smiled when she heard her husband and her love, James laugh. Her husband was a good man, a hard working one who took on the burdens of state, because his mother had given into her grief and gout. She felt happy beyond measure that unlike other men, he included her in his thoughts and his politicking. Caroline had found she had quite the talent for it and so enjoyed their little meetings. When it was just the two of them and their children, with their men and ladies of the bedchamber in the shadows, being discreet about their presence.
Caroline spoke then breaking the silence. “I heard something quite interesting from Lady Godolphin today.”
Her husband turned from watching their children, an eyebrow raised. “What did you hear?”
“That since she’s been appointed Keeper of the Privy Purse, Lady Masham has been petitioning the Queen for the right to become Chief Lady of the Bedchamber.” Caroline said, such a thing might appear of little importance, but as the Duchess of Marlborough still technically held that role even though she was in her estates now, it was quite scandalous.
James snorted. “That does not surprise me. The little strumpet no doubt thinks herself worthy of such a position.” Her husband paused and then asked. “Did Lady Godolphin say anything else about that conversation?”
Caroline shook her head. “Lady Godolphin is not as privy to these conversations as her lady Mother was. However, I did speak with the Duchess of Somerset.” James leaned forward, though Somerset was a Whig, he was one of the few that her husband could tolerate. “She told me that Lady Masham has increasingly taken to acting like the Queen. Using the favour Her Majesty shows her to boss around the staff in the Cock Pit as well as the other ladies. The Duchess tried to protest this to the Queen but was told to do as Lady Masham said.”
James sighed. “I fear Mother has gotten even more dependent on that strumpet since she dismissed the Duchess of Marlborough. You know she wanted to dismiss Marlborough from his role of Commander in Chief and replace him with some idiot that Masham had suggested, Orkney I think it was? Only my words kept her from doing something so disastrous. I do not know how to counter act the woman’s influence. I had to give into her demands that Harley be appointed to the Cabinet. And Harley is an idiot. Oh, he’s smart alright, but he has no head for numbers.”
Caroline bit her lip then, unsure of whether to say this next thing, but then she remembered that she and her husband had promised never to keep things from one another, and so she said. “There is something more that I have learned. Our friends in Harley’s home, have told me that the man and Masham meet regularly, and that they are looking to discuss changes to military appointments.”
James looked greatly angered then. “They have no right. That is the duty of Marlborough and myself.”
“And yet, Harley controls the purse strings now as Chancellor and as such is using Masham to try and shape the agenda of the cabinet. The Queen still sets the agenda, does she not, my love?” Caroline asked, though she already knew that answer.
“In broad strokes, yes.” James replied his shoulders sagging. “Though I am still the one who is implementing everything.”
“Yes, the Religious Toleration Bill that is going to be placed before the Lords is something that Harley and Masham are using against you.” Caroline said.
“How do you know this?” James asked.
“Our friends serving with Harley in the Chancellor’s office.” Caroline said. She thanked the day she had become friends with Robert Walpole and his wife. They were proving to be very useful. “They told me that Harley has taken the ‘Church in Danger’ line to new extremes and is trying to get Masham to poison the Queen against you.”
“They are trying to turn my own mother against me?!” James exclaimed. “They wouldn’t dare!”
“They are trying, my love.” Caroline replied taking her husband’s hand then. “Harley wants to sit in the seat of power and he knows that he never can with you in charge.”
James sighed, his shoulders sagged even more. “I will need to give the speech of my life in the Lords tomorrow then, to prevent this bill passing.”
“And you will need to introduce the Ireland Act as well.” Caroline said.
“Indeed, I will, though I know it won’t get support. Not with the provisions it requires.” James said.
“Speak to Somerset, and to Beaufort, as well as Berwick, my love, they will ensure it passes.” Caroline pointed out.
Her husband nodded, he kissed her hand. “Of course. And of course, we can still use this information against Masham. I will not allow her husband’s promotion to go through now.”
“A smart idea, my love.” Caroline replied.
“What would I do with you?” Her husband joked kissing her cheek.
I'm voting for fall. By the way, is TTL Duchess of Berwick (Diana de Vere) a First Lady of Bedchamber to Princess of Wales as she was OTL (as Duchess of St.Albans)? We've discussed this somewhere in the beginning of this thread (in the same place as arguing for betrothal of Duke of St.Albans and Ruperta Hughes to remain in force with actual marriage in early 1690ies).