The speech was really good and it sets the stage for a anti French policy based on a realistic view of what French goals are and the need to contain it. I honestly can’t wait to see how things develop once James is enthrone as ruler of Britannia
A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain
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VVD0D95
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Ahh, yeah I definitely agree with you there. The Duke of Burgundy might not be his grandsire, but he's still very ambitious
I don't think Anne would be Princess Royal until James was King. I believe that title can only be given to the reigning monarch's eldest daughter. James's daughter would likely only be Princess Anne of Wales at this point in time (and yes, I am playing catch up!!)
Yeah. It's a title for the monarch's eldest daughter. And it's not automatic either.
Eldest daughter of the Monarch, normally after 21 ( and there can only be one so the previous holder must be dead ). Would not be given automatically or if the daughter was the heir
Traditionally the coming of age in the UK was 21, only in recent times was it dropped to 18, hence its use in older now repealed/ammended laws such as Age of Consent for Homosexuals, standing for Parliament etc.
Chapter 149: William, Duke of York
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Chapter 149: William, Duke of York
December, 1711
December, 1711
It was odd to be back in Whitehall. There were a lot more complications in Whitehall than there had been in Scotland. There was all this protocol that needed to be followed that he didn’t have to follow in Falkland Palace. He was the boss there, and here, he was the second son, the Duke of York and Albany, but not quite the prominent person he had been before he left. That was just the way of things though. His wife at least seemed to prefer Whitehall to Edinburgh, not that he could blame her, Whitehall thrived. Edinburgh was more of a soldier’s fare. He preferred Edinburgh.
Mother was ailing, that much was clear. He had not really had the chance to meet her since he had come down with Maria and their son. But he had met his brothers and sister, and his brother’s wife and children. He smiled at that thought then pushed it down. The door opened and he was allowed in. James was sat looking rather pensive as he read through a letter. William coughed and his brother looked up. “Ah, William. Please, have a seat.” William sat down opposite his brother.
“What’s that?” He asked gesturing to the letter in his brother’s hand.
His brother said nothing for a moment and then. “One of our spies reports that the King of France had a heart attack three days ago. It seems that the Sun King is about to die.”
William thought on that and then said. “That is a good thing is it not?” He had grown up hearing about the depravities of Versailles and of the insatiable appetite of the Sun King.
James did not seem quite so convinced. William knew that he and his brother were not as close as they once had been. His brother had been sent off to war, when he had just started developing some sense in his head, and by then, James was closer to the Marquess of Blandford. Still, they were family, and so they would talk. “I think that there might be something worse to come from this. The Sun King was predictable in some ways because of how long he reigned for. You can be sure that if he dies and his son inherits, it will actually be his grandson the Duke of Burgundy who is doing the ruling. And that man is someone I cannot predict.”
William thought on that for a moment and then said. “That worries you.”
“It does.” James answered. “The young man has already shown that he does not much care about treaties, he has given his support to the Modena heir of Tuscany ignoring the treaty which ended the last war. He wants money to pay of the debts his grandsire’s wars have brought, but in doing so, he might have just started another war.”
“Then we will be there to meet him. Our army is strong. The strongest it’s ever been.” William answered.
His brother smiled. “Indeed. Now enough on that. How are things with you? How was Scotland the last time you were there?”
William sighed. “Well enough, I think Maria prefers it here than in Edinburgh.” At his brother’s raised eyebrow he elaborated. “She prefers the elaborate pageantry that is present in Whitehall, she prefers the ceremonies and the balls. I am a soldier, brother. I do not care for such things, I’ve had two balls in the time I’ve been there, simply to keep her happy. I think that perhaps when I return after Michaelmas it would be better if she and our son remained here.”
“Have you spoken to Maria about what she wants?” James asked.
William sighed. He had forgotten that because of how his sister in law was, that James thought all women were like that. “Maria is not Caroline, James. She does not give voice to her own opinions. Hell, I only found out that she liked balls because Archibald told me that his wife and Maria had been speaking about it.”
James laughed. “Brother, you are the man in this relationship, you must speak to her first. You cannot rely on others to do that for you. You have a child with her as well, you must speak with her. I would do that before making any decision.” William sighed and nodded his head in acceptance. James continued. “And what of the religious issue? Have you managed to convince more of the lords to take up Episcopalism, than Presbyterianism?”
William smiled. “Yes. Hamilton, Douglas, Atholl, Huntly, Lennox all of them and others have agreed to attend Episcopalian ceremonies. The main holdouts have been around Glasgow and Argyll. He retains a lot of influence there. I think we might need some sort of military action to sort that out.”
James looked pensive at that and then he said. “Try the diplomatic approach, and if that does not work, then commit to force.”
William nodded and asked. “How is Mother doing? I have tried to see her, but I keep being told she is not well. Some lady called Abigail Masham gave that order.”
James cursed. “I will sort that out, brother, do not worry.”
William nodded, bowed his head slightly and then headed out of the room. He had a lot to sort out if he were to get Argyll onside, and the bloody merchants of Glasgow with their inflated egos. As he thought on how to best address this he knocked into someone. “Sorry.” He said. He looked down and found himself looking at someone remarkably beautiful. She had brown hair, green eyes and a lovely face.
“My apologies, Your Royal Highness, I should have been more careful.” The lady said.
“Nonsense, the fault is mine.” He replied. “Might I have your name, my lady?”
The lady blushed then. “Lady Elizabeth Howard, Your Royal Highness.”
“Daughter of the Earl of Carlisle.” William surmised. “Where were you heading?”
“To…to…meet with my betrothed.” The lady replied.
“Please allow me to accompany you.” William replied, wondering just what he was doing.
“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” The lady replied, he took her arm and they walked together. William wondering why his heart was fluttering.
Chapter 150: Passing Of The Old Guard
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Chapter 150: Passing Of The Old Guard
February, 1712
February, 1712
Charles coughed. He was doing a lot of that nowadays. When he was not having some sort of weeping attack, he was coughing. He rarely attended cabinet meetings now. Instead the Prince of Wales filled in for him. He gave his advice when he was asked, but he knew he was dying. He just didn’t know how long he had. He cleared his throat and looked at the man sat opposite him. Sidney Godolphin, for so long his friend and ally at court, the other man looked like hell. He too was dying. The thought made Charles laugh.
“What makes you laugh, Charles?” Sidney asked.
“I was just thinking, Sidney, that we are both relics from another age, and now we are about to face death.” Charles replied.
Sidney cracked a smile then. “This is true. Alas, it seems brilliance must suffer the plight of the final challenge after all.”
Charles grinned. “You always were given to being a poet at the oddest of times.”
“My uncle was a poet, Charles, what did you think would happen?” Sidney retorted.
Charles laughed and then sobered up. “I do think we have done a good job in preparing the Prince of Wales for the future though.” The Prince had argued most brilliantly in cabinet three days ago against intervening in the Northern War, which now included Poland and Russia. Harley had been in favour of it, for reasons only he knew.
“Indeed. I think that will be both our legacies.” Sidney said.
“Not the creation of the Bank of Britannia or the union itself. But ensuring that the future King knew how to rule without the need of favourites.” Charles surmised, before he coughed.
“Aye. Though, I worry that something might happen once we are gone. Harley has the Queen’s ear. Masham and he work together, just as we used to work with the Duchess of Marlborough. Her husband has a rank higher than the Prince, despite not seeing more than one battle during the last war. That is not acceptable.” Sidney said.
“Aye, I am surprised the Queen allowed that.” Charles said. The Queen he knew would never have allowed anyone to outrank her son, had they not earned it with blood and tears.
“It is that Masham girl. She continually whispers poison in Her Majesty’s ear, and treats it as if it some sort of gospel. The Queen being as she is, well, she needs her husband, but alas His Royal Highness is long since dead. And no matter how they might try, Their Royal Highnesses, are not their father.” Sidney said.
Charles laughed at that, the thought of the Duke of York and Albany, or even the Duke of Gloucester trying to be anything other than formal with their mother was a sight to behold. “This is sadly true. Of course, York has returned to Scotland now, with his wife. You know I heard that Harley tried to get him into bed with Lady Elizabeth Howard.”
Sidney sighed. “I had heard that too. I had my daughter in law have a word with Her Royal Highness, and now I think the Duke will not leave his wife’s bed.”
Charles laughed. “Good. We cannot let anyone aligned with Harley get more power.”
“Ideally, we would have the Duchess of Marlborough back here, she would counter Harley and Masham, but I am not sure that Her Majesty would want her back. Something happened between them and nothing I say can resolve it. It is only her son’s insistence that keeps the Duke of Marlborough at court. That and his friendship with the Marquess of Blandford.” Sidney said.
“Do you know what it was that caused this dramatic turn?” Charles asked. He had always thought that the Queen and Lady Marlborough were two peas in a pod, they might argue but they would never separate. This separation was troubling.
“Some lady business, it was something I would rather not get into.” Sidney said.
“Wise.” Charles acknowledged, it could be quite difficult to get out of the situation when one got involved in business between ladies, especially when one of them was the sovereign.
“We need a way to get Lady Masham removed from the Queen’s presence. I have asked Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales to examine something on this matter.” Sidney said.
“A wise move.” Charles said. He started coughing then, it didn’t stop, and he hunched over, then he felt something sharp run through him. The next thing he knew he was on the floor.
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Oh aye, Charles Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury. A legendary statesman, who taught the Prince of Wales much of what he learned of statecraft. RIP.
Chapter 151: Ailing Emperor
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Chapter 151: Ailing Emperor
May, 1712
Raif knew his time was approaching. His hands continued shaking, and the nightmares were getting worse. Too often would the doctors come into his rooms and mutter amongst themselves before lying to him. He’d had three doctors executed for that. Before one of them had finally twigged and told him the truth. He did not have long to live, and he needed to sort things out before he did eventually die. His eldest son and heir Raif was only thirteen but was a smart lad, the boy would not rule with a regency but under his own auspices, Raif had decided. And so the boy was included in his council meetings. Though Raif hated his son seeing just how weak he really was.
He cleared his throat. “Let us start with the business in Kabul.” Kabul and the hinterland would always be a problem he knew. They respected strength, the nobles and the tribes both. But there was something more that needed done.
“Sire, Mohammed Zahir Shah, has declared himself as Emir of Afghanistan and is planning to march on Kabul. He has already taken many of the towns and forts around the area.” Syed Abdullah said.
Raif sighed. “And what is Durrani doing?” Raif had on the advice of Abdullah, named Durrani governor of Kabul in opposition from his brother and cousins.
“Sire, he is preparing the defences of the city. I think, he rightly expects that Shah will come marching out to face him, though the man lacks cannons.” Syed Abdullah said.
“Have the Persians done anything?” Raif asked, if the Persians got involved, they were finished.
“No, Sire.” Syed Abdullah said. “They are too busy fighting one another.”
Raif nodded. “Praise Allah for small mercies.” There was a pause and then he continued. “Very well, Syed, you shall command the third army and march to Kabul to reinforce Durrani. We want this sorted before the summer rains come. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sire.” Syed Abdullah said. “What would you like done with Mohammed Zahir Shah, Sire?”
“We shall want him executed and his sons brought to court to serve as hostages.” Raif commanded. He stopped a cough coming then and prepared himself for the shakes that would come later.
“Yes, Sire.” Syed Abdullah said.
There was a brief pause, and then the chief financer of the court, Abdullah Mohammed came forward. He bowed and then said. “Sire, there is the matter of the court incomes to discuss.”
Raif despised talking about such things, they made him feel dirty, Allah said such things were a sin. But as ruler of Hindustan he needed to know. “Very well, what are the shortfalls?”
Abdullah Mohammed produced a piece of paper and read from it. “We are short twenty thousand from the former Deccan Sultanates, ten thousand from the Rajput Kingdom of Mewar and one thousand from the Nawab of Bengal.”
Raif took a breath. “Deccan is under the control of the Marathas. They are withholding the funds deliberately, because we have negotiated an alliance with the British. As for Mewar, he does nothing unless that Sambhaji fellow tells him to do it. We do not have the means to take them on directly. However, Bengal is another matter.” He took a breath and then said. “Syed Hassan,” the man stepped forward and bowed. “You shall take twenty men with you and venture to Bengal. Talk with the Nawab, and then remove him and replace him with his brother.” The Nawab’s brother was a weakling who could be easily controlled.
“Yes, Sire.” Syed Hassan said.
Raif waved a hand, feeling the fever coming over him. “Dismissed.” The court officials left the room, leaving him alone with his guards and his son. “So, my boy, what did you think?”
Raif watched as his son came to stand before him and said. “Sire, I think the Syed brothers are dangerous and sending them to where you have is their death sentence.”
“And why do you think that?” Raif asked.
“Because Durrani will kill Syed Abdullah for the insult he gave to his sister, and the Bengalis will never listen to Syed Hussein.” His son replied.
“Exactly, and do you know why we have done this?” Raif asked.
“To ensure that they are not in the way to try and take power from me, when I ascend the Peacock throne.” His son answered.
“Good lad.” Raif said. “Now let us rest.” He rose and walked with the aid from his son back to his rooms.
Chapter 152: The Dying Torch
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Chapter 152: The Dying Torch
August, 1712
August, 1712
His father had arrived from Paris some days ago. No doubt the man was preparing for the inevitable, for the King of France was on his deathbed. Louis had been expecting this moment for the past year. It was not surprising to him. He had effectively run the country since his grandsire’s stroke some eleven months ago, his father showed no interest in such mundane business, and so Louis continued working and doing what he could. This meeting he had called of the Marshals of France was important. He knew there would be another war within the next few years, Spain was too proud a nation to allow it otherwise. He just needed to know the state of the army.
He cleared his throat and began. “Gentlemen, the last war ended in a treaty which has left our position on the world stage questionable. Now, we must know that the Spanish will strive hard to regain Naples from our brother Philippe, they will also strive hard to protect Archduke Charles and his wife from our goals. Therefore, the army must be in a suitable condition for a long distance campaign.” He took a breath and then looked at the Duke of Villeroi who was the Marshal in charge of the first army, stationed down near the border with Spain. “Villeroi, how goes preparation?”
The man took a breath, he had been somewhat successful during the last war, but there had been times when Louis’ patience with him had nearly snapped. “Your Royal Highness, the first army remains in good shape. We continue to practice manoeuvres, and are focused more on forcing the enemy into pitched battles, per the suggestions from Marshal Vaughban. However, there is one area I am concerned with.” Louis gestured for the man to continue. “The Spanish have received a new shipment of quick fire muskets from the British and as such are using them in good supply. This is something that we do not have access to, despite the treaty we have with the British. Therefore, I worry that any such fight we have will be at a disadvantage.”
Louis pursed his lips at that. The British were being their usual deceitful selves then, that was not surprising. “Have you managed to get a good look at this musket?” He asked.
“I have not. But some of the troops under my command have.” Villeroi replied.
“We shall want to speak with them.” Louis said. “There will be many a maker who will be able to provide our men with those sorts of weapons.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” Villeroi replied.
Louis then turned to d’Estress, the commander of the army on the border with Austrian Netherlands. “And what of you, d’Estress?”
D’Estress was not the most talkative of people normally, but Louis had seen him on the battlefield and knew him to be a dangerous man and smart as well. “Your Royal Highness, the Austrians are stocking up on guns and gunpowder. They are garrisoning forts with men from the Holy Roman Empire and men drawn from the Dutch Republic, indeed William of Orange has made visits there with his son and heir. I believe that they too are preparing for war. I have run through various scenarios, and I believe that a future war will be a war of aggression on the part of the Dutch. They will use the Austrian Netherlands as baseground to strike at us.”
Louis looked at the map. “At the Leie then.” He thought for a moment. Then said. “Perhaps the time has come for us to raise a regiment of maritime foot. Just as the British have done.”
He expected some push back but then was pleasantly surprised when both Villeroi and d’Estress said. “We agree, Your Royal Highness.” Louis looked at them both and it was d’Estress who replied. “Your Royal Highness, we all witness the effectiveness of the maritime regiment of foot that the British have, they came and hit and went, leaving us scrambling. I think if we had our own such regiment, we could deal quite the blow to the Dutch, who rely more on conventional land warfare when fighting us.”
Marsin, commander of the front with Naples spoke. “You would need to change the structure of the navy, Your Royal Highness. The maritime regiment must be part of the navy.”
Louis thought for a moment and then said. “Nonsense, we can continue to keep the two different.” The navy was not a matter for concern right now. He did not think Britannia would get involved in the next war, unless the Austrian Netherlands was threatened, which he intended to avoid. Though he did want to reform the navy. The vessels were poor. He was about to elaborate on that point, when the door opened and a servant entered, followed shortly afterward by Madame de Maintenon. The woman never left his grandfather’s side, so Louis was quite shocked to see her here.
The woman bowed before him and then rose and whispered. “The King is breathing his last. He requests your presence.”
Louis nodded, turned to the gentlemen. “I must go.” With that he turned and stalked from the room. He eventually made it to the King’s chambers, to find half his family there. His father, his cousin and father’s wife, his brother Berry, his father’s other children, and his own wife and their children. The King looked at them all, with unseeing eyes.
“France must win. She must always win.” His grandfather said, before he coughed, spat and then closed his eyes.
A few moments passed before the doctor announced. “The King is dead.”
Louis turned to look at his father and bent the knee. “The King is dead, Long Live the King.”