A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain

[Valena]

"Father" still in first paragraph.

 

[VVD0D95]

"Father" still in first paragraph.

Edited that now

 

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Chapter 108: Crisis For Sultan



May,1704
​

Ahmed wanted to scream, rage was burning through him like a hot rod, but there was little he could do apart from listen as his advisors spoke of the consequences of this war he had not even wanted.

Damat Pasha, the Vizier spoke. “Sire, there is a great need of reconsideration of the strategy within Europe. We are facing defeat after defeat, the offensives into the Crimea have been beaten back, our navy has been stranded off the coast of Cyprus by pirates under the pay of the Holy Roman Emperor. I do not think we can sustain this level of engagement.”

Ahmed stared at the man and asked. “What do you suggest we do then?” He truly hoped the man would say sue for peace, and was not disappointed when he did indeed say that.

“Sire, with everything that I know, I think it best if we do indeed sue for peace. We cannot afford to keep fighting. Crimea is gone, Serbia and Croatia have shown themselves to be Austrian now, and not for us. With the Safavids looking to stir trouble in Mesopotamia, I think we must ensure that we are prepared there.” Pasha replied.

“And would the Austrians and Russians accept peace? Or would they continue to push for more war?” Ahmed asked. He knew what he would do if he were in their position.

Ahmed Pasha, his minister for war spoke then. “I think they would accept peace, Sire. They are considering other motives, and from what I have learned the Emperor is concerned about French activity on the bank of the Rhine, whilst the Russian Tsar wants nothing more to do with the Austrians.”

Ahmed considered this and then said. “Very well, Damat, we entrust that you would seek proposals for peace with the Austrians and the Russians. Tell the Russians that they may have that barren wasteland in Crimea in exchange for reducing their attacks on our shipping. And inform the Austrians that they can keep Serbia and Croatia.” He knew that his spies on the border with Serbia would be enough to ensure that any disturbance could be seized upon.

“Yes, Sire.” Damat Pasha replied, making a note of this on a piece of paper.

Ahmed looked at the man and asked. “What is the situation in Mesopotamia, how badly damaged is our standing there?” there were times when he seriously considered simply allowing the Safavids to take that hell hole region, which offered little to the empire beyond dregs and little else.

“Haman Pasha is struggling to keep the rebellious elements under control. The Safavids seem to be exploiting a tribal grievance that three of the tribes have with one another. Two of the tribes are Shia and one is Sunni.” Damat responded.

Ahmed sighed. “Of course. And what exactly has their dispute been caused by?” If it was something to do with the Holy Quran he would roar his anger and march down to Mesopotamia and kill them all himself.

“A plot of land three miles from Baghdad. It appears that the two Shia tribes claim it as theirs, due to ancestral divisions made during the last Caliphate. Whilst the Sunni tribe claims it as theirs, due to a land grant that your grandsire made to them.” Damat Pasha responded.

Ahmed groaned once more. “And what exactly is the legal status of this land? Is it theirs or the Shias?” He hoped it was the Sunnis, they needed more balance to prevent the Safavids from doing something that could potentially damage the balance of power within the region.

“That is not clear, the documents from your grandsire’s reign were damaged during the fire a few years ago, and as such there is nothing quite prominent. The only thing that is clear is that this dispute will not stop.” Damat Pasha replied.

Ahmed rubbed his eyes and asked. “What then, are we to do? Turn in favour of the Sunni and push the Shia toward Persia. Favour in the Sunni and the Shia go toward Persia. Either way Persia will garner reward.” He looked around and then said. “Perhaps it is time we take the attack to them. Once peace has been signed with the Austrians and Russians, we want reconnaissance done of Georgia and other Safavid territories.”

If Pasha was surprised, he hid it well. “Yes Sire.” Ahmed nodded, and then before rising said.

“And bring my brother Ibrahim home.” With that he walked out, and hoped things would settle themselves.

 

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Chapter 109: Emperor’s New Design



July, 1704

​

Leopold looked around the room, and saw old faces looking back at him. Apart from his two sons who had both joined the council within recent years. It was a startling revelation to him and perhaps indicative of where his reign had gone. He’d been Emperor since he was seventeen, and now as he approached the end of his life, he found that perhaps his energy was being wasted. He blinked and then spoke.

“We have looked through the reports coming from the front, and have seen the numbers expended by our armies during the course of this war, and we have reached the understanding that the Ottomans cannot continue fighting for much longer, not with the Persians threatening their borders. Consequently, we would wish to look at and discuss the treaty proposals they have sent forward.” It had taken two months of back and forth before something could finally be agreed, he didn’t want another two months to pass before there was an agreement.

Metternich, his trusted advisor replied. “Sire, pursuant to our successes in the field, the Ottoman Sultan has proposed that in return for withdrawing his troops, or what little remains of his troops within the areas, that he will recognise Vienna’s control over Croatia and Serbia, in exchange for the Empire not taking up arms against him for a period of three years.”

That was an interesting proposal as far as Leopold was concerned. “Presumably, the three years is so that he can handle the threat the Persians pose adequately?”

“Yes, Sire. I do not think it would be in our interests to allow either the Russians or the Persians to completely destabilise the Ottoman Empire. As the Safavids would be more dangerous then, and the Russians would push for Constantinople.” Metternich said.

Salm spoke then, the man had aged considerably during the years, and now rarely spoke. “Sire, I think that it would be a mistake to seek peace now. Keeping the Ottomans tied up in the south will mean they are likely to concede ground elsewhere such as Bulgaria, which could give us a greater advantage. Furthermore, now that Tsar Peter has taken Crimea, he will be looking at the Ukraine and Moldavia and Wallachia.”

Metternich shot back. “I do not think so. Tsar Peter has his hands full with Crimea, he needs to subdue the tribes there, and eradicate any opposition. He will not be venturing forth to anything else within the next few years. Furthermore, seeking peace with the Ottomans frees us up to fight the French.”

Leopold considered this, on the one hand he was wary of Peter, on the other hand, he didn’t want to tie his men up in fighting a continuing war with the Turks, when the French were an ever looming threat. He looked at Metternich and said. “Send word to the ambassador, tell him that we shall meet with him and agree to the terms of the agreement proposed by the Sultan.”

“Of course, Sire.” Metternich said, making a note on a piece of paper.

Leopold then turned to his son Joseph, who he had tasked with keeping an eye on events elsewhere. “What is the situation in the Low Countries?”

Joseph was a father now, with three children, and he seemed to have slowed down with his whoring, something that reassured Leopold. The boy spoke confidently. “Sire, since the Battle of Oudenaarde, the French have amassed a great host and sent it into the Spanish Netherlands. There have been battles across the area, which has resulted in a defensive line being formed around Brussels. The Spanish forces are marshalling once more and preparing for an attack on Southern France. French forces have pulled out from Milan, and have now captured Naples. However, the Duke of Savoy has sent word, stating that he is prepared to negotiate a good alliance with us.”

Leopold considered this, the French presence in the Spanish Netherlands was of great concern, considering his son Charles was to inherit that, but Milan was more pressing being on the rear of the Empire. “Send word to Savoy, tell the Duke to come to the negotiating table, and we shall discuss matters from there.” He considered another possibility. “Salm, give orders to Waldeck and Baden, tell them to take their armies to the Rhine, we shall harass Louis there, and force him into diverging forces.”

“And what of the British, Sire? Would it not be good to ask them to engage in more raiding through their fleet?” Joseph asked.

Leopold waved a hand dismissively. “No, let the British continue holding the line, we must open a new front and pressurise Louis into surrender.” And perhaps in the bargain they could get Lorraine.

 

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ALso, as Lorraine wasn't handed back to Leopold Joseph at the end of the nine years war, he's been a landless Duke for some time, consequently, Elizabeth Charlotte of Orleans hasn't yet married. Looking for candidates for her, suggestions, appreciated.

@Valena @isabella @Jan Olbracht

@Rheinbund @Tyler96

 

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Chapter 110: Sarah’s Concern



September, 1704
​

Sarah poured herself a glass of wine and offered one to her companion who refused. Sarah nodded, put the cup back and looked at the man before her. Sidney Godolphin, Viscount Godolphin, a friend of hers and her husband’s, Lord High Treasurer, First Lord of the Treasury and the Queen’s chief advisor. He was a powerful man, but she thought with some satisfaction that he still came to her for advice, especially concerning the Queen, just as he had many years before.

“What troubles you, my friend?” Sarah asked. She knew Sidney and knew he preferred direct conversation, rather than the meandering words that were becoming prevalent at court.

“It is the Queen, Your Grace.” Sidney said. “She has started losing interest in continuing the fight against France, it seems she has started listening to Fox and to Shrewsbury, both of whom do not think that the continued efforts in the Spanish Netherlands are worthwhile, unless Spain begins carrying its weight.”

Sarah considered this and then asked. “Is it not true that the Orange line continues to hold, and that my own husband has fought off the offensive to the east of Brussels six times, and has managed to hit the French supply line, therefore, making it seem more likely that France will consider surrender?” She’d had that letter from her husband some months ago now.

“Yes, Your Grace. But that is the thing, the Queen wants a clear victory, and Shrewsbury and Fox and even Middleton continue to tell her that without a clear victory, the war will simply drag on. I do not think any of them can quite clearly understand just what is needed.” Godolphin replied.

“And what is required?” Sarah asked, Sidney was often good with long term thinking, but not so much military strategy.

“We shall need to plough far more money into the war effort, raise taxes, and conscript far more soldiers. We will need to engage the fleet in mass raids against the French coast, and we will need a three-pronged attack into France. Only two of those things are possible, and we already control the channel.” Sidney said.

“I am not sure how I can change Her Majesty’s opinion on this matter, Sidney. Shrewsbury has no wife, and Fox’s wife remains a minor lady, not a lady of the chamber, as for Middleton, his wife is a fool.” Sarah said, she saw Sidney’s shoulders drop, and hastily said. “I can however speak to her about including more friendly ministers into the council. I agree that the present make up of the Privy Council is far too favourable toward the high Tories.” She had always found the High Tories to be annoyances.

“Thank you, Your Grace. A simple word to advise her that public favour would remain high for a continued war effort, and that perhaps replacing the Marquess of Normanby as Lord Chamberlain would do a lot to convince the cabinet to continue pursuing war aims.” Sidney said.

Sarah was intrigued by this. “Has Normanby overextended his welcome then?” She had always found the man and his wife to be somewhat odorous, and lacking in certain manners she thought needed for such a high post.

“Normanby continues to advise Her Majesty that seeking peace and congratulating the Dauphin of France on his marriage to Elizabeth Charlotte of Orleans is the correct thing to do.” Sidney said sounding exasperated. “I have never quite understood why Her Majesty maintains him in her household, he is nothing but a sop.”

Sarah laughed. “Because he is someone who pays compliment to what Her Majesty thinks is her great wit.” The Queen needed a firm hand and someone to shoot down her ridiculous notions, sometimes the Duke of Cumberland did that, other times, and mostly it was down to Sarah. She had been away from court for some time though, due to the construction of the great Palace that the Queen had asked be built to honour her husband.

“I do not think I can continue to serve if Normanby remains Lord Chamberlain. Shrewsbury and Middleton, I can stand, even Drummond with his constant blathering. But Normanby? No, him I cannot stand.” Sidney said.

Sarah nodded. “Do not worry, I will speak with Her Majesty and before the year is out Normanby will be out of his position.”

Sidney smiled. “Thank you, Your Grace. I knew I could count on your help.”

 

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And here we see what might well be considered the beginning of the end of Sarah's relationship with Anne. For your info, Normanby here is one of Anne and George's closest confidants. The chances of him being removed are minimal.

 

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Chapter 111: Anne’s Disquiet



November, 1704​

They’d taken a carriage to Hampton Court Palace, to get away from the stuffy atmosphere of Whitehall for a day. Roaming the halls where she had once been raised, Anne was struck by just how much more beautiful the palace was compared to Whitehall. Perhaps it was because she was only here rarely, whilst she was at Whitehall every day, but the art and design were greatly pleasing to her, and there were no courtiers here, demanding her constant attention. George seemed in good health as well, better than he had been for months, at least.

“You look worried, my dear, what is it that troubles you?” George’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Oh, I’m not troubled, I was just thinking how much I prefer Hampton Court to Whitehall.” Anne said. “It is so much more refreshing and there is less odorous air around the place.”

George laughed, and it felt good to hear the sound. “You know, I’m starting to think we should perhaps just stay here. The air is cleaner, the rooms are nicer, and there are fewer people fawning for attention. Of course, if we moved here, then all of that would come here also. And I do not think Hampton is built for that sort of thing.”

Anne hummed. “I think my grandfather was the last person to hold a proper court here. Father mentioned that when court sat here, the place was always quite lively.” She thought about it for a moment and then asked. “Do you think if we removed some of the buildings near the palace we could expand the gardens? I’d quite like that.”

George smiled. “I think that would be good as well, my dear, but of course then you’d need to find new rooms to house the exchequer’s sub departments and other such things.”

Anne sighed. “Another thing that would no doubt get Sarah onto me.” That had been something that had confused her greatly, where had Sarah’s sudden hostility to Normanby come from? They’d never had a problem before.

“What has she said now?” George asked.

“She demands that I remove Normanby from the office of Lord Chamberlain, claiming that he’s giving me wrong advice about the war. She says that the longer he stays in office, the higher chance there is that Godolphin will resign.” Anne replied, the indignation entering her voice.

“No doubt this came after her meeting with Godolphin.” George said, Anne was always amazed that his network of spies continued to produce such good information regularly. “Godolphin continues to think himself above reproach because of the Bank of Britannia’s continued good fortune, and his hand in it. But yes, who has she told you to replace Normanby with?”

“Grey.” Anne said, her mouth curling with disgust.

George gasped. “Bug? Truly, she wants you to name Bug as your new Lord Chamberlain? Is she mad? The man has not a lick of sense, nor political acumen.”

Henry Grey, 12th Earl of Kent, was a man of uninspiring taste and dreadful smell, named the Bug due to his body smell, that was enough to get even old people gasping and coughing for breath. “He’s aligned with Sarah’s faction though, and he supports a prolonged war with France. I think Sarah thinks that if I name him, then I will be simply persuaded into continuing my support for more war bills in Parliament.”

George sighed. “They don’t understand the reasoning behind why continuing this war is not reasonable, do they?”

“Of course they don’t. All they see is the French pushing at valuable cash pot, and a chance to end French hegemony, which whilst I admit would be good, would not do anything for us, other than potentially cost us an opening into a valuable resource.” Anne replied.

“Ormonde still holds Ghent does he not?” George asked.

“Yes, and Bruges. William maintains control of the line from Brussels though, and despite their continued offensives the French have not been able to break through.” Anne replied. She guessed at what her husband was thinking and said. “Godolphin does not think the French will sue for peace. He thinks that Louis of France wants the Spanish Netherlands too badly to allow for a peace after exerting so much blood.”

“I think then that you would be better served keeping Normanby on as Lord Chamberlain but replacing him from the position of First Lord of Trade. Replace him with someone else perhaps Viscount Weymouth, the man is aligned with the war party, but respects you too much to contradict you on key issues.” George said.

“I agree, I think I will state that as my intention.” Anne said. “I don’t like this though, Sarah is growing far too overbearing and demanding, but her husband is too useful for me to dismiss her.”

“You need to dismiss her, only replace her my dear. The Duchess of Ormonde supports your position on most things does she not?” George replied.

“Yes, but she is old.” Anne said dismissively.

“Then perhaps look to Sarah’s own cousin, Abigail Hill, she is smart and careful, and I think Sarah would no doubt approve of that, her cousin being her representative whilst she is away at Woodstock.” George said.

Anne thought on that then said. “I agree.” Perhaps she would spend more time at Hampton Court, it certainly seemed to make her think clearer.

 

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The breach has begun between Queen Anne and Sarah Churchill.

 

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Chapter 112: A Battling Push



January, 1705
​

Philippe fought back the urge to yawn, or to pound his fist on the table in frustration. It was bitterly cold in Steenkirk, and yet there was little they could do besides sit and plan. Of course he supposed that being in this tent with these insipid fools wasn’t doing wonders for his mood either. The back and forth had been going on for some time, and he was beginning to tire of it. He cleared his throat and spoke.

“Gentlemen, we are all Marshals of France, we all know that the enemy sits on an important defensive position outside of Brussels, and we know the King wants us to take Brussels. There is no point in our sitting here doing nothing when we could be preparing for a proper assault and ensuring that we have everything we need ready.”

That caused some grumbling, he knew some of the commanders were still reeling from the failed pushes of the year before, the defeat that Chamilly had suffered at the hands of Queen Anne’s own first division surely had stung bitterly. Therefore, Philippe was not surprised when that man asked. “And how are we to do that? They hold the line, and they hold it with guns and more men than we could possibly cope with in one assault.”

Philippe looked at the map spread out on the table before them and said. “We must engage, not as one single unit, for we already know what happens when we do that.” That meant more bodies and more death, he’d already suffered enough traumatic memories for a lifetime. “We must force the enemy to spread itself thin. Our spies report that Marlborough and William of Orange continue to bicker over their own plans and strategy. We can play on that. All we need to do is bring their focus away from the Brussels defensive line and toward Alost.”

Villeroi, who rarely ventured toward the camp meetings spoke this time. “And how are we to do that, Your Royal Highness? Marlborough has already shown that he will not fall easily for the ploys that seek to draw him away from Brussels, and William of Orange is no longer the daring man of his youth.”

Chamilly replied then. “I believe, that we would be better served drawing their attention not to Alost, but instead toward the east. They have reserves stationed at Tirlemont, and as such we can and should push toward there. If we can take that town we would have them surrounded from the rear. Naturally, William of Orange cannot allow us to take that town, therefore, I think he will dispatch two, perhaps even three divisions to defend it, which leaves us with the mainline open.”

For the first time the Marshal General, Francieres spoke. “And who will command this initial engagement? We must preserve our number to ensure that the grand assault actually goes ahead.” That was the problem with Francieres he might be administratively sound, but as a general in the field he was far too conservative.

“Marshal General,” Philippe began, fighting to keep his voice calm and measured. “With the greatest of respect, we cannot just sit here and do nothing. I agree with Chamilly, we must send two divisions to the east to try and lure some part of the enemy host away from Brussels and their line. We must engage with them there. And we must also look to engage them on the Brussels Line. I would argue that we push for engagement between Alost and Brussels.” He looked down at the map, and then drew two marks. “There will be engagement, here” he marked the left of Brussels. “And here.” He marked the right near Brussels. “And there will be a gap here.” He marked between those two points, to the side and centre. “Engage and send a division through that gap, and we shall have Brussels exposed.”

“William of Orange will think of that, and he will have preparations made for it.” Francieres said. “This won’t work.”

Philippe found his patience at an end, he banged his fist on the table. “With respect, Marshal General, I think you are wrong, and I believe that this is crucial to achieving a victory in this war.”

Francieres looked as though he wanted to say something then, and had Philippe not been of the blood, or even the King’s nephew, he had no doubt that the man definitely would have said something. Instead he simply said. “Let us put it to a vote then. Those in favour…” Philippe raised his hand as did Catinat, Chamilly and Villeroi. “Those against?” Francieres raised his hand as did Tourville, but Tourville was Francieres dog, so that made no matter. “Very well, Chamilly, you shall command the division to take Tirlemont. Your Royal Highness shall lead the division on the break.”

 

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Chapter 113: King Of Naples



March, 1705

​

Philippe blinked and fought to keep his attention on the matter at hand. It would be easy, far too easy to simply switch off and allow his ministers to much of the talking and discussion. Indeed, during the war he’d found that better for his own sanity. They’d taken Naples fairly convincingly as a result, but when it came to ruling, well, Philippe was the grandson of the Sun King and he would not abide anyone else ruling for him. He took a sip of water, and listened as Archbishop Pignatelli spoke.

“Sire, with the ceasing of hostilities throughout much of Naples, it is considered wise to invest time in reforming the legislature and the body politic within the Kingdom. The governor that the Spanish left here did nothing and left the systems as they had been since the time of Ferdinand the Wise, some two hundred years ago. If you are to rule as an independent sovereign, separate from France, then you must decide what you wish to keep and what you wish to remove.”

Pignatelli had come to power as Archbishop two years ago, he’d been left alone by the Spanish governor, but Philippe had found him smart and engaging. He was starting to regret that now. “And what measures would you suggest we remove, Your Grace?” Philippe had his own ideas, but he knew the man would suggest otherwise.

Pignatelli seemed delighted to have been considered so. “Sire, we would advise that you remove the fifth and fourth tariff that the Spaniards imposed, it was not looked upon favourably by the populace, and was the cause of some trouble for the custom collectors. I would also propose abolishing the eighth tax, as that was something that the last governor proposed. It made no sense, however.”

“Both those taxes draw considerable revenue from the landed aristocracy, if I remove them then what do I replace them with?” Philippe demanded. He knew why the Archbishop was suggesting this, and he did not like it.

“We would recommend that you not replace them with something that could be considered a like for like replacement. Instead, we would recommend that you introduce land reforms that would better improve the yield of crop during the summer season. With the defeat of Spanish support within Naples, we think that there will be enough time to ensure this is done properly this time around.” Pignatelli said.

“Sire, I disagree with His Grace.” The Duke of Noailles said. “I believe that we must keep the taxes on the current rate, so as to ensure the army is properly paid for. The Spanish still hold Milan, and there is no guarantee that His Holiness, the Holy Father will not send troops southwards in aid of them. We must ensure the army is ready to fight.”

The Archbishop looked at Noailles and said. “Sire, respectfully, we would say that the Duke is a soldier and therefore would naturally think more about the war aspect of this entire region than anything else. And whilst it might be true that the Spanish hold Milan still, His Holiness the Holy Father will never side with the Spanish in this matter.”

“How can you be sure?” Philippe asked. He knew the Pope was somewhat wary of the Spanish, but also of Grandsire.

“Because your taking of Naples has broken Spanish hegemony of these lands and as such means that he is free to continue to protect the Papal States.” The Archbishop said.

Philippe was not convinced, he looked at José Rodrigo, a Spaniard who had been in French service for a decade or more. “José how do you suggest we approach this matter?”

José was his chief finance minister, and had advised him throughout the war in Milan and now Naples. He was a short man, with a balding head, and a curled moustache. “Sire, I would recommend abolishing the fifth and fourth and the eighth, but replacing them, with something a little subtler and a single package. A tax on the third of land owned by the aristocracy, and an extra charge on top of that for goods brought in from Sicily. I would also raise the border tariffs by a third.”

Pignatelli protested. “Such a move is more likely to damage the image of the crown than benefit it!”

José looked at the Archbishop and then at Philippe and said. “Sire, I think this is the best course of action. In the short term, certainly there will be problems, but compared to the repressive measures of Madrid? I think the people will prefer this.”

There was a moment of silence as Philippe considered this. He would need to rely on José to implement the reform, but he knew enough to know having something to replace the taxes with was better than abolishing them, and leaving nothing in their place. Decided he said. “Very well, we shall implement this reform through edict. Your Grace, we wish for you to preach the sermon tomorrow on this matter. Noailles, you shall have your army for the current time period.” With that he rose and walked to the door, before leaving however, he turned to Noailles and said. “Please ensure that our wife, the Queen is escorted from Savoy with full honours.”

 

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Chapter 114: Caroline



June, 1705
​

“His Royal Highness has gone to sleep, Your Royal Highness.” Sophia the nurse said.

“Thank you, Sophia, you may take the evening.” Caroline said. Sophia bowed and then hurried out. Caroline took a sip of water, and then read through the paper on her table. The Guardian, published in Manchester, but with offices in London, a paper loyal to her mother by marriage, and also to the crown’s operations, chaired by Sir Stephen Fox. She turned briefly from the paper to look at the door that separated her from her son, George of Wales, the heir’s heir, and the light of her life, she smiled, then turned back to the paper. She snorted and read aloud. “It is to this correspondent’s understanding that His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough is convinced that victory shall be had before the end of the year, and that he will deliver the head of the Duke of Orleans personally to the Queen.” Caroline put the paper down, and looked at Henrietta and Anne Churchill who were her two ladies in waiting. “How much do you think your mother paid the writer to say that?”

Henrietta the older of the two women replied. “No doubt a considerable sum, Mother is desperate for there to be good coverage of everything happening within the war front. Especially now that cousin Abigail has come to Her Majesty’s attention.”

Caroline thought that interesting, her mother in law was an interesting person, smart on the one hand, but dull on the other, Caroline got the feeling the woman didn’t like her, because of what she symbolised, on the other hand she liked her because of how much it was evident that James did. Caroline thought on this for a moment and then asked. “How much is exactly known about this Lady Abigail? Has your mother said anything?” Caroline had only just met the woman a few days ago, at a ball that the Queen had decided to host. And had not had enough time to form a proper opinion.

Anne replied then. “I think that there is little known to Mother, other than that Lady Abigail is a cousin of ours through some branch of the family. She certainly seems quite happy to be here in Whitehall. I have heard tell that she has a lover in the household of the Duchess of Ormonde, one John Hill, who is serving with the Duke in the Spanish Netherlands.”

Caroline smirked at that. “How interesting.” She knew that her mother in law did not like her ladies in waiting to have affairs with people living within the households of her generals, she’d dismissed one lady for trying something with Lieutenant General Townshend when he’d visited Whitehall a week ago to give a report on the state of the war.

Henrietta Hobart, engaged to the heir of the Earl of Suffolk spoke then. “I have heard tell that Grace Pelham is trying to get into the favour of the Duke of Norfolk, she’s constantly loitering around his chambers, and has become very close to his mother.”

“Pelham’s father is a minor minister is he not?” Caroline asked.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” Hobart replied. “He serves on the Board of Trade, advising Viscount Weymouth.”

“The Duke is not married, and is one of the most eligible bachelors in the whole land. I think this would be something that could very well play into your hands, Your Royal Highness.” Henrietta said.

She knew what the lady meant, Norfolk was smitten with her, though he respected her husband far too much to ever even so much as flirt with her. “I believe we should arrange a meeting with the Duke, to discuss things such as his sister’s marriage, given that his sister a member of my household it would make sense to do so.”

“And Her Majesty could not object to such without causing a scene.” Henrietta pointed out.

Caroline smiled. “Henrietta Hobart, you might well have just secured us a very powerful ally in the times to come.” The woman in question blushed. “I want you to meet with Anne Howard, and ask her to talk to her brother. He will, being the man he is, then seek me out and we can take things from there. If we win over Howard and Pelham, in one fell swoop, we have removed two potential allies for Miss Masham.”

“What about Harley?” Anne asked. “She is his cousin as well, and Harley is a very good speaker.”

Caroline smiled. “Have no worries about Robert Harley, we have our own tool to counteract him, and our tool is much more effective than him.”

 

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And here we see Caroline developing her political nous. Any guesses as to who the tool is that she refers to at the end?

 

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Chapter 115: The Prince’s Adventure



August, 1705
​

James straightened his jacket out and listened intently as the Duke of Marlborough spoke. “The line from Ghent to Brussels is secure, the last offensive that the French attempted has been pushed back. Consequently, I am of the opinion that Orleans, now as Marshal General, will attempt something grand. His move of being suspicious and cutthroat did not work, therefore he has only one choice left to him. He must go for the direct attack.”

“I disagree.” The Prince of Orange said. “I believe the Duke of Orleans will wait for instruction from Versailles, the fact that he has been named Marshal General for a manoeuvre that failed, suggests Louis of France is worried.”

“With respect, Your Highness, I disagree.” The Duke said. “I think that Louis of France has given Orleans the right to decide on the main aim of the war from now on, and therefore we can expect a far more aggressive strategy.”

Before the Prince of Orange could speak, James piped up, he had fought during the series of engagements that had been termed the Battle of the Orange Line, and he felt confident enough to give his view. “I think that we might see a combination of what the two of you are suggesting.”

James could tell the Prince of Orange thought him stupid. However, the Duke of Marlborough seemed interested for the man asked. “How so, Your Royal Highness?”

James looked at the map, and then said. “The Orange Line is our strength, we have pushed back against the tide following the battle, and as such forced Orleans and the French to draw up their lines at Lessines. And whilst that is perhaps too close for comfort, I do think that it is far away enough that we can ensure they will try something soon.”

“How so?” William, Prince of Orange demanded. James hoped that the man’s son was nothing like him, otherwise Sophia was not going to enjoy living in the Netherlands.

“Orleans is an aggressive man. Louis of France needs a victory. With Emperor Joseph pushing into Lorraine and the Rhine, he needs a win. He will throw caution to the wind here, in an attempt to protect his western boundary.” James said, remembering everything he had been taught. “Regardless of how badly he might want the Spanish Netherlands, he will want to protect his own lands more. Remember how badly he panicked when the Duke of Marlborough invaded France.”

James could tell the Prince of Orange did not agree with his assumption. That he was going to dismiss it out of hand, until Schomberg, who James suspected was more than just a friend to the Prince, spoke. “I agree with His Royal Highness.” Schomberg looked at his Prince and said. “Your Highness, we both know that Orleans is impulsive, and desperate to fulfil the legacy of his own father. We also know that Louis of France will defend France regardless of his objectives beforehand. Indeed, I would think we should engage a more direct plan in that regard.”

“What do you suggest?” Orange asked.

Before Schomberg could speak, James spoke. “We send men down into Luxembourg, and we send riders out to meet with the imperial troops. We try and get the two armies to link together and then we drive hard into France.”

“That plan is absolute madness.” The Prince of Orange retorted. “The French will have men there waiting for us, and even then, we shall have to march through Liege, where there is no guarantee that there aren’t French troops waiting to stop us.”

The Duke of Berwick, who had recently been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General, spoke. “Your Highness, I think you are overestimating the French’s capabilities. Since the Emperor has gotten involved, the French have sent more regiments toward defending the Rhine. Indeed, they are convinced the Rhine is their best hope of victory now. Orleans might try and prevent us from crossing, but we need not send a strong host. I am more than willing to command two or three regiments out into the Bishopric to bolster the strength of the Imperial army. Orleans will not consider stopping me then.”

There was a moment of silence, and James could tell the Prince of Orange was battling with his desire to control everything the Britannic troops did, and with his desire to win. Eventually it seemed the latter desire won out, for he sighed and said. “Very well.” The Duke of Berwick nodded, and the meeting was called to an end.

James walked back to his rooms, with the Duke of Marlborough walking at his side, though with a respectful gap. “I do not think Orange really likes us.” James said.

The Duke laughed. “Indeed not. I do not blame him though, considering the number of times we went to war with the Netherlands under your great uncle, King Charles.”

James nodded, bid farewell to the Duke and entered his chambers. There he sat down at the table, and opened up the letter from his wife. He smiled as he read it, and when he was done he tucked it into his breast pocket.

 

[mcducky]

So the French plan to break the defenses of Brussels fizzled out then

 

[VVD0D95]

So the French plan to break the defenses of Brussels fizzled out then

In the short term, I wouldn't put it past Philippe to try again.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 116: Burgundy’s Rising



October, 1705​

Louis took a moment to read through the documents of the council before putting them to the side. He didn’t like reading through them, finding them to be long, odorous and often lacking in common sense-perhaps he should ask his grandsire to remove the man charged with writing the notes down- yet he knew that as Duke of Burgundy and second in line to the throne it was his duty to read them and know everything within them. That still didn’t mean he enjoyed reading them. He cleared his throat and looked at his wife.

She had grown into a real beauty, with her dark raven hair and her piercing eyes, her cheeks were flushed, and he felt more in love with her than he had ever thought possible. She looked at him and asked. “What is it, my Prince?”

Louis took a loose strand of her hair and began playing with it. “Can a husband not admire his wife?”

Marie grinned. “Ah, but my Prince, we both know there is more to this than that. For we are in Versailles where even two lovers embracing is the sign of some political motive from one or the other. Furthermore, we are also the subject of an arranged marriage, and whilst we might love one another, we both must know that there is more to play at here.”

Sometimes, Louis was both in awe of and also somewhat tired of just how smart his wife really was. “You are right of course, my dear. I was merely thinking that perhaps there should be some changes on the council, and yet I do not know whether my grandsire, the King would oblige them.”

Marie titled her head slightly, as she was wont to do when she was thinking. “Do you not think that those currently in service to the King are good enough? They have ensured that your brother now sits as King of Naples, with Papal recognition and all. They have also ensured the Spanish are tied up fighting off yet more debt and a potential uprising in Spanish Navarre.”

“Yet they continue to keep us engaged in a fruitless war in the Spanish Netherlands.” Louis countered. “We have not broken through the Orange line, and despite what the Duke of Orleans says, I do not think we will.”

Marie seemed intrigued by this. Louis knew that she was a supporter of Orleans, though why that was he could not figure out. “Why do you say so? Do you truly think that co-operation between the British and the Dutch will continue? After all from the council reports you have shown me it seems that the Dutch are opposed to the move that the British proposed of getting troops to march through Luxembourg. Further, given that we were able to hold off their advance, is there any reason to believe their alliance will continue?”

Louis sighed, he could tell that just like his grandsire, his wife was a firm believer in taking a land which would cause them nothing but problems. “We are not going to be able to take Brussels. It is far too well defended for us to manage anything other than a brief surge. We would be better served looking to divide the land with the British and the Dutch. For then we would get the benefits of the trade, without the problems of having to manage the entire thing.” He had long thought that the smartest move to make.

His wife it seemed was intrigued by this. “And if there is more conflict from the resulting treaty? I do not think either the British or the Dutch would be happy with lending part of the Spanish Netherlands out to either us or themselves. They’d want the whole thing or for the Spanish to keep it. I can see only conflict that way. But if for example that were the route we went, where would you send the rest of the man power?”

Louis had thought long and hard about this and he knew precisely where to go. “Milan. Philippe might hold Naples, but as long as Milan is in the hands of either the Spanish or the Habsburgs, he will be threatened. Therefore, we must take Milan, and if that means marching through Savoy and subjugating other Duchies, then so be it. We have the men, and we would divert attention away from the Rhine.”

“Have you put this before the King?” His wife asked.

“Not as of yet, I need to see to the removal of Pontchartrain first, otherwise we shall never hear the end of all the issues the man sees with it.” Louis said.

“I can see to that. I can have one of my ladies tempt him.” Marie replied.

“If you could.” Louis replied kissing his wife’s cheek. He then asked her. “And how are things between you and the Dauphine?” His cousin had married his father a year and a half ago, and had sired a son by him, Marie and her had not gotten along at first.

“Better, I think we are finally seeing eye to eye, Motherhood has helped.” Marie replied. Their son, Louis was a year old now and was beginning to gurgle out words with regularity.

“That is good, very good.” Louis smiled. He knew that when his father became King, he would need to work with his step mother, as his father would not be doing the actual ruling.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 117: Bakht



January, 1706
​

“Sire, the way things are going just now, I am not sure if we shall have enough funds to do anything other than continue bribing your cousins to ensure that they do not rebel any time soon.” Treasurer, Khalid Mahmood said.

Bidar looked at the man who had served as his treasurer for the past four years and sighed. “How has our financial situation become so dire, that we are now facing something that is unparalleled throughout the history of this dynasty?” He had done everything he could to be financially prudent, to change the expenditure that his uncle had gone for.

Khalid sighed. “Sire, the payments to your cousins have increased with the passing years, to ensure that there is no chance of rebellion. Then the reworking of the sewage system within the capital itself, combined with the payments made to the Marathas to prevent them from doing anymore expansion. It all adds up, Sire.”

Bidar cursed. “Then perhaps it is time that we stop one of those payments. What have my blasted cousins been doing?”

Khalid sighed once more. “Sire, your cousins have been doing various things. Some have invested this money in improving their own fiefdoms and giving the people some semblance of normalcy, and others have spent the money only on themselves.”

“Then I want a list of those who are doing the latter and I want their names removed from the list of payments and I want them killed.” Bidar commanded.

“Yes Sire.” Khalid said.

“And what of the Marathas? Have they used their money to good use?” Bidar asked, he doubted it, he did not think there was a good bone in the bodies of his greatest enemies.

“Unfortunately Sire, they have kept their use of the money quite secret, therefore limiting the extent to which I can truly tell what it has been used for. Our spies report little of use, other than intrigues.” Khalid replied.

“You just know that they are using this money for their army and navy. I have had it on good authority that their navy has now grown in the use of cannons thanks to the British.” Bidar’s brother Jawan said. “I think that we must act now and try and force them out into the open and get our cousins to test their loyalty.”

“I think that would be a mistake, Sire.” Wala Jah, another brother said. “Our armies are needed to defend against potential incursions from the Ahoms and from the Safavids. If we bait the Marathas out into the open, there is no guarantee that anything good can come from this.”

“So, what are we supposed to?” Jawan shot back. “Are we merely meant to trust that the people who want to take Delhi from us are going to be content to use the money the Emperor has given them, and not use it for some sort of military expansion, or anything else? I am sorry but I think that thinking is incredibly naïve. They are going to be using it for something and I think it would be far better if we got the grip with it first.”

“You would risk a three way war with the Ahoms and the Safavids, all for some sort of suspicion that might be real or not.” Wala fired back. “We do not even know whether this can come of anything. The previous wars we have fought with the Marathas we have lost.”

“So, you suggest we do nothing out of fear? I am disappointed in you, brother.” Jawan replied. “I had fought the victory of the Battle of Ghat would be bolder? Or is it that your wife has made you soft?”

Before Wala could reply, Bidar spoke. “Enough. I want my cousins who are using their money to enrich themselves removed from the list. And I want to arrange a meeting with the Marathas. I think it is time we decided what to do with land transfers.”

“Yes, Sire.” Khalid replied, his brothers bowed their heads.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 118: Prince At War



March, 1706 ​

James took a deep breath, the battles of the past few days had been intense, and before that the winter had been long and cold. He did not know what the French were planning but truthfully, he was not sure if he really cared. He simply wanted to get this war over and done with, so that he could return to his wife and their son. Yet as Prince of Wales, he was his mother’s representative on the field and could show no tiredness even amongst his friends, some of whom had gathered in his tent for the evening.

“So, the French continue to sit behind their lines making a mockery of us and doing nothing to actually improve their situation. Do you think they are scared?” He asked.

His friend John Churchill, Marquess of Blandford and a promising commander replied. “I think, Your Royal Highness, that the French are themselves scared. They could not breakthrough at Blenheim, and they were defeated again at the offensive on Brussels. They are stuck between the mud and the dirt. Orleans is under pressure.”

James looked at his friend and said. “I am not sure, I think that the French are trying to bait us into doing something that would bring nothing but grief and pain. You know what Devonshire himself had said during the last meeting of the generals.” The Earl of Devonshire, commander of the Queen’s Own Third Regiment of Horse, was not a man that James liked or appreciated, his son even less, but he was a very good commander. He had thrown an angry fit the like of which would’ve made James’ Mother proud.

John snorted. “Devonshire is an idiot, he thinks as if this is some fight in England, when the Low Countries have been varied in their atmosphere and their fighting standards throughout history.”

Henry Somerset, 2nd Duke of Beaufort and another close friend spoke then. “Your Royal Highness, I find myself agreeing with John. I think the French continue to hold off on any proper manoeuvres now because they are afraid themselves of the potential for defeat that sits within their grasp. Orleans has shown that his ability to think outside the square is limited. The Sun King is fighting a war here, but also in Italy and potentially in Spain once more. They are stuck without allies. They are terrified.”

“And what of Devonshire’s comments? He did make some sense. William of Orange has been far too timid in pushing the advantage.” James said. Indeed, James was convinced that if he was in charge or if Marlborough had overall command that this war would be over.

Somerset replied. “I think Devonshire is jealous, Your Royal Highness. He does not feel as though he is getting anything done with the credit for the victories he thinks are his due. Be it Blenheim, or the third storm of Brussels. I think he wants to cause trouble between Her Majesty and His Royal Highness the Prince of Orange. I think it is as simple as that.”

“I agree.” John said.

James thought about it for a moment and then sighed. “Very well, perhaps I should write to Her Majesty and ask that Devonshire be replaced by someone worthy of commanding the regiment. We cannot have someone trying to deliberately sabotage relations.”

“Who would you replace him with, Your Royal Highness?” Beaufort asked. “Romney is dead, as Preston is also dead. Peterborough is already commanding another regiment. Ormonde commands a corps. The only other options are lords who are inexperienced.”

James thought on this and then said. “There are two very good commanders present within our own regiment at the moment who could do the job just as well, if not better. George Wade, and the Earl of Orkney. Both are men who would put the objectives of this war before personal pettiness. And they actually have martial brains. We all know Blenheim was Marlborough’s achievement, whilst the storming of Brussels was repulsed because of suggestions that the crown had.” There was some murmuring of agreement.

“If you do go through with this, Your Royal Highness will have to be careful. Devonshire is powerful, you would not want to make an enemy of him.” Beaufort cautioned.

James smiled then. “Devonshire is old, and his son is a fool. One will die and one will be controlled.”

 

[VVD0D95]

And I return, apologies for the long delay, I've just started my masters so been swamped aha.

Thoughts are as always welcome!