A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain

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Chapter 312: Flanders



September, 1753

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“The Estates continue to act like little children.” Leopold Charles, Archduke of Flanders said.

“What are they complaining about now?” His wife Mary Anne asked.

“The fact that taxation has had to be increased to face a potential threat.” Leopold replied.

“What exactly are their complaints?” Mary Anne asked.

“The threat is a potential one not a live one and therefore they do not understand why they have to keep paying the amount that has been set.” Leopold replied.

“And the threat is a serious one is it not?” Mary Anne asked.

“Yes, very much so.” Leopold replied. “The French are training troops right near the border.”

“And the Estates know this?” Mary Anne asked.

“They do.” Leopold replied.

“Then they are being foolish, or someone is trying to gain something.” Mary Anne said.

“How do you figure that?” Leopold asked.

“Well, you yourself have mentioned before how the increase in taxation is needed for defence in the fact of a potential French incursion, which with the French training troops near the border would seem logical. The men of the Estates are not complete fools, therefore, someone must be trying to gain something by making them complain.” Mary Anne said.

“You think the French may have someone on the inside doing this?” Leopold asked. It wouldn’t be so farfetched, after all, where they were was right in land that the French had been claiming for centuries.

“I don’t think it is beyond the realms of possibility.” Mary Anne replied.

Leopold nodded, he agreed with his wife, there definitely was a chance the French had had a hand in this, why he hadn’t thought of this sooner he didn’t know. He took a breath and then said. “Well, I will just need to find a way to overrule those with the issue.”

“Indeed.” Mary Anne replied.

“There was another issue I wished to talk with you about though.” Leopold said.

“The issue of our children’s marriages?” Mary Anne asked.

“Yes.” Leopold replied.

“I believe marrying Maria Anna to the heir to Mantua would make sense.” Mary Anne said. “Especially as the Duke has promised us access to his Duchy’s internal market.”

“Agreed.” Leopold said. “That will keep some of the estate members happy.” They had been hankering for a leg into Mantua for years now.

“As for Karl, perhaps a French marriage?” Mary Anne suggested.

“Perhaps, it may help quell some of the French King’s attempts at sowing discord here.” Leopold said, though he wasn’t completely sure about that.

“Agreed.” Mary Anne said. “What about the younger children?”

Leopold shook his head. “We’ll think about them next year, for now let us focus on Karl and Maria Anna.” His wife nodded, though he knew this conversation was not done yet.

 

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Chapter 313: Sweden’s Conflicts



January, 1754

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Karl looked at his wife and sighed. “Anne are you really still angry about this marriage?”

His wife, Anne, nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?” Karl demanded. “They’ve been married for almost a year now.”

“Because it is too convenient.” Anne said.

“What do you mean too convenient?” Karl demanded. “We both know this is one way of keeping the peace.”

“You’ve denied Gustav what you promised him.” Anne said.

“I made no such promise.” Karl replied, fully aware that whilst he had agreed to their eldest son’s marriage to that Oxenstierna woman, it had been on the condition that it was morganatic, and as such he could understand why Gustav might have thought he was in line for the throne.

“When Karl was denied access to the Royal Box at the opera during his marriage to that harlot, you made it quite clear.” Anne said.

“Times have changed.” Karl replied. “That woman is dead.”

“And so now a Danish whore sits where she once sat, and Gustav is denied his place as your heir.” Anne said.

“Gustav was never my heir, Anne, he was the spare. Karl was always my heir.” Karl said.

“You could have fooled me.” Anne said.

“Enough!” Karl replied. “What is done is done.”

“So, who will Gustav marry now?” Anne demanded.

“I don’t know.” Karl said.

“You don’t know?” Anne replied shocked.

“Yes.” Karl said.

“That’s completely not like you. Usually, you know everything you’re going to do for the next five years.” Anne said.

“Well this time I don’t.” Karl said.

“Why?” Anne demanded.

Karl felt his temper rise. “I don’t bloody know. Maybe it’s because I’ve had an entire Kingdom to run, an Empire to maintain and bloody Russians to fend off! Karl’s wife is already pregnant, and with luck the child will carry to term.”

“So, Gustav is meant to just what? Simply accept that he won’t be getting married as well?” Anne demanded.

“Well, if you want him to get married why don’t you look for a bride for him? Maybe if you do, he’ll stop moving around with that stupid actress.” Karl snapped.

“I will.” Anne snarled.

“Good.” Karl said. He got up then and poured himself a cup of wine and brought one for his wife as well. He handed her cup to her and downed his own, then he sat down and sighed. “We have to keep a united front, Anne. We cannot allow the Danes to see any weakness.”

“Why do you think they will try something?” Anne asked.

Karl snorted. “I know they will, they want Scania back, and we want Norway. War is bound to happen.”

“So why marry Karl to the Danish whore?” Anne demanded.

“We need to maintain the mirage of peace for the moment.” Karl said.

“And who would our allies be in any war?” Anne asked.

“The Dutch, they don’t want the Danes gaining control over the North Sea, Britannia will remain neutral. The Prussians may get involved if they think the Danes are being too aggressive towards the Dukes of Oldenburg.” Karl said, thanking the Lord that the Dukes of Oldenburg had finally used their brains and decided against taking an aggressive stance toward Prussia.

“Britannia will remain neutral, if I know my brother.” Anne said.

“Which is a good thing.” Karl replied, he didn’t want to think about where the Britannic Navy might be used and the damage it would do.

“Very well.” Anne replied.

Karl nodded, but said nothing, allowing the silence to stretch on for a period.

 

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Chapter 314: Prussian Grenades



April, 1754

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“You’re telling us that the Danish King and his Oldenburger cousin are coming close to fighting again, over a dispute that was sorted fifty years ago?” Frederick asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, Sire.” His chief minister Heinrich von Podewils replied. “It appears that the King of Denmark has taken a rather unfavourable view of the terms of that agreement.”

“Why now?” Frederick demanded.

“It seems he is not happy with the growing closeness between the Duke of Oldenburg and the King of Sweden, and I believe he is being pressured by the King of Britannia to prevent Oldenburg falling into the French orbit also.” Podewils replied.

“And is there any actual evidence to suggest that that is the case?” Frederick asked.

“Not that I have been able to find, Sire.” Podewils replied.

“So, there is a whole lot of fuss being created for no real reason.” Frederick surmised.

“It would appear so, Sire.” Podewils said.

“Well, we shall let the Danish King deal with his familial grudge, we have other things we wish to focus on.” Frederick stated.

“Of course, Sire.” Podewils said. “I have met with the Polish ambassador as well as the Russian ambassador, both of them assure me that their sovereigns fully support Your Majesty’s proposals for Sweden.”

“Are they willing to commit men?” Frederick asked. Words were wind, as his son had become fond of saying, action was the real test of commitment.

“I believe Russia is, Sire. The Tsar is desperate to achieve what his father could not and take Estonia.” Podewils said.

“And Poland?” Frederick asked.

“The King of Poland has offered diplomatic support but nothing more, Sire. Indeed, I believe the King of Poland is still trying to prevent a war breaking out within his own Kingdom.” Podewils said.

“It has gotten that bad?” Frederick asked. He had been aware of some tension in the Kingdom of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, but he had never imagined it might break out into war.

“That is what our spies are reporting, Sire.” Podewils said.

“Very well.” Frederick said. “So, Russia will commit, Denmark likely will as well if Oldenburg formally allies with Sweden, that leaves the Kingdom surrounded.”

“Unless Britannia decides to get involved. The King of Britannia’s sister is Queen of Sweden whilst his daughter is Queen of Denmark.” Podewils said.

“We have a way of keeping them out for good.” Frederick said, he had thought about this long and hard, and was finally convinced that this was the right approach.

“Sire?” Podewils asked.

“We shall offer our son’s hand in marriage for the King’s niece, Princess Caroline of Cambridge. The chance of making her a Queen will sit well with her father and thus with the King.” Frederick said, hoping the intelligence his ambassador in London had gathered was correct.

Podewils looked contemplative, then eventually said. “Very well, Sire.” Frederick nodded and considered the matter closed.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 315: Hellfire



July, 1754

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John slammed his cup down. “I’m telling you, we should’ve had a say over who Princess Caroline married.”

“And I’m telling you, such a thing is most improper.” John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich replied.

John blinked, the ale was starting to get to him, or was it the gin? He couldn’t bloody remember which one he’d had more of. “Why?” He asked.

“Because Her Royal Highness is a Royal Highness and it is not our business to discuss who she marries.” Sandwich replied.

“I disagree.” John said, lifting his cup up and downing the remaining contents, and then sticking it out to the side to demand more. “It is exactly because she is a Princess that we must know who she marries.”

“Why?” Sandwich demanded, almost angrily.

“Because as a member of the Royal Family, the Princess Caroline of Cambridge is a member of the state, and as such, as subjects of that state we should have a say over who she marries.” John said.

“Now you want a say over who she marries?!” Sandwich cried. “I thought you were mad enough when you said you just wanted to discuss it.”

“What is so wrong with that?” John asked. “I am a voter; my money is going toward paying for her dowry. It is only right that I get a say.”

Sandwich downed his cup of ale and slammed it down on the table. “I’m sorry, John, but that is going too far.”

“Why?” John replied. “Is anything I’ve said wrong? Hell, below, Sandwich, the King’s own favourite Voltaire has written a piece for The Guardian talking about the need for some popular will for policies. In the bloody Guardian?!”

“Still, that is one thing and this is another.” Sandwich replied. “You would not like it if the King had a direct say over your marriage, now would you?”

“I have to pay a fine if I don’t register the marriage with his Sheriff, so technically he does.” John snapped back.

“A fine. He doesn’t sit there discussing the marriage with you, or telling you who to marry.” Sandwich replied.

“I still think this is the right course.” John said.

“Then you are pushing us all down a dangerous path.” Sandwich said.

“What dangerous path?” John demanded.

“You are taking us down a path not seen since the Civil War. And I do not think you quite realise that.” Sandwich said.

John laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. The King won’t suddenly go tyrannical because I’ve asked for this. I’m talking amongst friends, not mentioning it in Parliament.” Though he had every intention of doing so.

Sandwich shook his head and said. “Be careful what you wish for, John.”

John laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 316: Bear



October, 1754

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Peter stretched his arms, blinked and then grabbed his cup of ale. The hangover was something terrible today. He was getting too old for this. He downed the ale, and stuck the cup out for more, when it was filled, he downed that cup as well, then put the cup on the table and looked at his son.

Mikhail had just turned eighteen, he was essentially a man, and Peter had decided to include him in his council meetings, and to include him in the more intimate dealings of state, which was why the lad was here now. They had much to discuss.

“You read the papers on Sweden?” He asked.

“I did, Sire.” Mikhail replied.

“And?” Peter asked.

“I believe that Sweden may not be as big a threat as the ministers think it is.” Mikhail said.

Peter was intrigued by this, Mikhail was his second son, and had always been more bookish than Peter’s eldest son Alexei. Alexei had been fascinated by soldiers and war, and had even died in his uniform. Mikhail held no such illusions. “Why do you say so?” Peter asked.

“Because nothing that King Karl of Sweden has done indicates he actually wants a war.” Mikhail replied. “He has married his eldest son off to the King of Denmark’s sister, he’s sought a rapprochement with Prussia which the Prussian King is considering. These are not the actions of a man looking to bring war to the Baltics.”

“And yet he continues to build up troop numbers and has stationed men on the border with Ingria.” Peter said. His ministers had caused quite the kerfuffle about that, shouting and yelling about treaty agreements etc.

“Yes, only because of the actions of some malcontents in Ingria themselves have taken.” Mikhail pointed out.

“So, you do not think he will go to war?” Peter asked.

“No.” Mikhail replied. “Not unless he is pushed to.”

Peter mused on this, he had argued this himself with his ministers several times, but they were still convinced that Sweden would start the war. He could not see it himself, Sweden could not hope to win against the combined might of Russia, Prussia and Denmark, and King Karl was not his father, he was not mad. “Then a strategy of containment would be the most sensible one.” He ended up saying.

“Sire?” His son replied.

“We shall give the King of Sweden no reason to think that we are looking to attack him, and thus give him no reason to consider attacking us.” Peter replied.

“How would you do that, Sire?” Mikhail asked.

Peter looked at his son and smiled. “Why by offering you as a groom for his daughter.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 317: Whales



January, 1755

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“You know, I think if I have to listen to Horace Walpole talk about Locke’s theory of man one more time, I’m going to beat my brains out.” James, Prince of Wales said.

“Not his?” Francis Russell, Marquess of Tavistock asked.

“Oh heaven’s no, I think he’d enjoy it too much.” James quipped.

“This is true.” Francis agreed.

“He does like Locke, doesn’t he?” George Seymour, Duke of Somerset said.

“He does.” James agreed. “I don’t understand why, Locke has some fundamental flaws in his reasoning.”

“Oh God, not this again, please, Your Royal Highness!” George said folding his hands together in mock prayer.

James laughed. “It is true though!”

“So, why haven’t you asked him to stop talking about it, Your Royal Highness?” Francis asked. “You are his master after all.”

James sighed. “I did try to ask him to stop, but he told me that the King wanted this taught to us. Apparently just learning Hobbes and Hume wasn’t enough, we had to learn Locke as well.”

Everyone present groaned. James Percy, Marquess of Falmouth and heir to the Duchy of Northumberland spoke then. “Do you think that might change now? After all, Your Royal Highness is approaching manhood.”

“I bloody hope so.” James said. “I don’t want to listen to Walpole again.”

“Maybe we were too soon to dismiss London?” Somerset suggested.

“Perhaps.” James agreed, the Bishop of London had at least known when to let a subject drop, something that Walpole, unfortunately did not.

A comfortable silence fell then as they all sat and drank. James found himself wishing for bed, but at the same time knowing that it was far too early for such a thing. It wasn’t even dinner time yet, and he knew how much of a fuss his mother would make if he went to bed before then.

Tavistock broke the silence. “I heard a rumour, Your Royal Highness, about an impending Royal Marriage.”

James groaned then. There were only two people who could be the subject of that rumour now. His sister Elisabeth, or himself. “And what was this rumour?”

“That His Majesty the King is planning a double marriage between Your Royal Highness and a Princess of Saxony and Her Royal Highness Princess Elisabeth and a Prince of Saxony.” Tavistock said.

“That can’t be right.” His brother, Prince Edward said. “After all, Saxony doesn’t have a Prince of the right age.”

“So, Your Royal Highness is definitely marrying a Princess of Saxony?” Tavistock asked.

James sighed, he glared at Edward and then looked at Tavistock. “It seems so.”

“You do not seem happy with this?” Tavistock asked.

“The girl, for that is what she is, that I am supposed to marry is only fifteen, she’s younger than Edward.” James said.

“I’m not that young!” Edward protested.

James ignored his brother and continued. “I am to marry a child, and ensure that we continue the dynasty.”

“And that displeases you?” Tavistock asked.

James frowned. “Of course it does, I do not want to marry a girl who is fifteen. I don’t want to have to deal with some child who has unreasonable expectations.”

“Why do you think she’d have unreasonable expectations?” George Seymour asked.

James looked at the man and said. “We all did when we were that age.”

“I didn’t.” Edward said.

James looked at his brother and said. “You want to serve in the army, you have trouble breathing on long walks.”

His brother started to protest, but was interrupted by Falmouth. “Can you not ask for a different marriage?”

James snorted. “Of course not. The King has made up his mind and after what my sister did, he will not budge.”

“So, you cannot ask for another marriage?” Falmouth asked.

“No.” James said.

“And if you could, who would you ask for?” Falmouth asked.

“A Spanish Infanta, or a Portuguese Infanta, hells maybe even an Austrian one. Someone of the right age.” James said simply.

“Such is the lot eh.” Somerset quipped prompting James to laugh.

“Such is the lot.” He agreed.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 318: Common



June, 1755

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Henry held up the pamphlet he’d been given by his brother in law and said. “This is wrong on so many levels.”

“How so?” His brother in law, John asked.

“Because Wilkes makes a demand that no decent subject should make. We cannot demand a say in who a Princess or a Prince marries.” Henry replied.

“Why not?” John asked. “We’re paying toward her dowry.”

“We’re not.” Henry said shaking his head. He didn’t quite understand it, but having spoken to Mr Charteris, his lawyer, he got the impression that Wilkes was barking up the wrong tree.

“What are you talking about? Of course, we are. Wilkes explains it right there.” John said.

“He’s lying.” Henry replied.

“Why would he lie?” John demanded.

“Because he has an agenda?” Henry suggested.

“Nonsense. He’s an honest man.” John said.

“Have you met him?” Henry demanded.

“No, but my brother has.” John said.

Henry wanted to sigh, John’s brother was an idiot. “And how often has he met him?” Henry asked.

“Once at Lambeth.” John said.

“And he thinks meeting him once is a good enough reason to take him at his word?” Henry asked.

“Yes, and if it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.” John said.

Henry sighed. “Then you are an idiot.”

John hit him then. “Don’t call me an idiot.”

“But you are.” Henry replied. The blow came again.

“Don’t call me one.” John said.

“You are.” Henry said, this time he got his hands up in time to grab John’s hand and twist. “Hit me again, and I’ll break your head on the bar.”

He glared at John and kept his hands on the other man’s arm. “Your brother is an idiot, as are you. Wilkes is wrong. The Crown decides who their children marry, not you and I, and we do not pay for their dowries.”

“How do you know?” John demanded.

“Have you ever had to pay extra when someone gets married?” Henry asked.

“No.” John admitted.

“And why do you think that is?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know.” John mumbled.

“Because we have never and will never have to pay for something that the Crown itself covers.” Henry said. “They are not idiots.”

“Fine, will you let me go?” John asked.

“Yes.” Henry said letting go of the other man. He watched as the man nursed his arm and then stalked off out of the pub. Henry sighed, there was going to be a lot more of this sort of talk, especially in Birmingham, the village of idiocy.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 319: The March To War



October, 1755

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“What news?” Pierre de Rigaud, Governor General of New France asked.

“Word from Louisiana, Sir.” His secretary, Pierre de Laval said. “It seems that the British are encroaching on territory that has long belonged to us.”

“And why would they be doing that?” Pierre asked. The British were usually reasonable when it came to such things.

“It seems that some of their colonialists want more land and as such the Governors have allowed them that leeway.” Laval said.

Pierre frowned, that was an unnecessary complication. Something that would need to be addressed properly. “And how far in land are they moving?” He asked.

“Sometimes right up to the River, sometimes they stop a few metres into the territory.” Laval replied.

“Right up to the river?!” Pierre exclaimed, that was more than an infringement that was a call for war.

“Yes, Sire.” Laval responded.

“Which of the colonies are they coming from?” Pierre demanded.

“Carolina, I believe, Sir.” Laval said. “Carolina and some of the northern colonies.”

“Very well, send letters to the governors of these colonies and ask that they explain themselves.” Pierre said. He wanted to avoid war as much as possible. He knew the finances of the colony as a whole were not great, and war was not something they could afford.

“You think they will listen, Sir?” Laval asked.

“If they have any sense they will.” Pierre responded. “War is not in anyone’s interests right now.”

“And if they do not listen?” Laval asked.

“Then we will have no choice but to move the regiments from here to the south.” Pierre replied, and if that meant getting rid of the General then perhaps it would not be such a bad thing. The general was an arsehole.

“I will write those letters at once, Sir.” Laval replied.

“Good, and Pierre, make sure you do not tell the General about this, okay?” Pierre said.

Laval looked at him for a moment, then smiled and said. “Of course, Sire.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 320: Washington



March, 1756

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George Washington, Colonel of the Virginia Militia, walked up the steps that led him into the General’s office, he noticed there were cannons stationed across the left and right walls, with burly looking Frenchmen standing next to them, no doubt serving as guards. That combined with the ditch filled with spikes outside, that he’d seen upon entering told him this would not be an easy place to take should it come to it.

The doors opened and he was led to a seat that was occupied by a large pillow in the shape of a bear. George picked it up and handed it to a servant, then sat down, immediately he regretted doing so, for the chair’s back dug into his own back. He refused to ask for the cushion though and instead remained seated. The man before him had white hair which showed under his wig, he was writing something furiously. He then handed it to a servant and then looked at George.

“Monsieur Washington.” The man, General Pierre, Governor of Fort Le Boeuf said. “Welcome to Fort Le Boeuf, I trust your journey here was pleasant.”

George bit back a snort, his journey had been anything but pleasant. He’d avoided being eaten by a bear, being captured by Indians and all sorts of other horrendous things just to get here. “It was fine, thank you.”

“Good.” The General said. “Now, I am aware of why you have come, but I wish to hear the words from you, directly.”

George cleared his throat and said. “I have come as part of a representation from His Britannic Majesty King George of the United Kingdom of Great Britannia, to formally request that your men retreat from the Ohio Country. This territory was claimed by His Britannic Majesty some years ago, and was agreed as Britannic territory during the Treaty of Bruges.”

The General didn’t react to what he’d said, instead he simply looked at George. For a moment, George wondered if the man had heard him, he was about to repeat what he had said, when the General spoke. “I understand where you are coming from, but I fear there may be some confusion on your part, Colonel.”

“Sir?” George asked.

“You see, the Ohio Country has belonged to France since time immemorial. It was claimed by us in an agreement with the Spanish and something that was subsequently recognised by King Charles II in a treaty some eighty years ago.” The General said.

“That was then, this is now.” George replied. “The realities have changed.”

“They have?” The General asked.

“Yes.” George said. “The situation that His Britannic Majesty King Charles found himself under is not the same situation as it is now. The Treaty of Bruges made that quite clear. The wording of the treaty was such that Britannia was given rights to the Ohio Country.”

“And yet, you have done nothing with those rights.” The General said. “Bruges was thirty years ago; we have moved on since then.”

“There was no new treaty.” George protested.

The General laughed. “The winner takes it all, Colonel. Unless there is some other reason for why we should vacate, we shall not be leaving here.”

George narrowed his eyes at the man and asked. “Is that a threat?”

The General laughed. “No, Colonel, it is not a threat. Merely a statement of truth.”

“Your version of the truth must be different to mine.” George said.

The General didn’t laugh then, instead he simply stared at George, before saying. “It would appear so.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 321: France Again



August, 1756

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“This letter from Rigaud is concerning.” Louis said. “We had thought the issue of the Ohio Country was resolved during the last round of negotiations.” He fixed the foreign minister with his gaze then, prompting the man to speak.

“I had thought so, Sire. Nothing in any correspondence with London suggested that it was not.” Rouillé replied.

“So, then why are the British now claiming different?” Louis demanded.

“I do not know, Sire.” Rouillé said.

“Well then find out!” Louis roared. “We do not want to have another bloody war over this insufferable land.” He was beginning to think having those territories in America was more pain than it was worth.

“I will, Sire.” Rouillé said.

Louis wiped at his brow and then continued. “We know that there are many things going on, but it is imperative that we not go into a war with Britannia over this land across the ocean.” He wanted to focus on Europe and potentially displacing the Habsburgs from Flanders, more than he wanted some territory in America.

“What should I tell the Governor General, Sire?” Rouillé asked.

“You tell him to seek to negotiate with the British. If they refuse, only then may he prepare the regiments for war.” Louis said.

“Sire.” Rouillé said.

Louis then turned to look at his brother, the Duke of Berry and asked him. “What word is there from the border?”

“The Austrians are keeping a balance of troops in Flanders, at the request of the Archduke. They’re also stationing more soldiers on the border with Lorraine, again at the request of various Princes. However, the Sultan seems to be stirring himself in preparation for another war.” Charles replied.

“So, it is likely that the Austrians will be preoccupied?” Louis asked.

“Yes, I believe so, Sire.” Charles answered.

“Good. Ensure the Marshals know; we must be prepared to strike the moment an opportunity arises.” Louis said.

“Sire, if I may make a suggestion?” Charles asked.

Louis looked at his brother and nodded. The younger man continued. “I think that perhaps the time has come to focus more on Navarre than on Flanders. The Spanish are weak; their army is non-existent and we have stoked up sufficient tension in Aragon for their King to be consistently worried. I think the time is right for us to move on and complete the conquest.”

Louis could see where his brother was coming from, Navarre was there for the taking, but it would be a symbolic thing. It would hold no real value for them, whereas Flanders would, especially with the developing industry there. “We shall consider your proposal. But we still wish for the Marshals on the border to be prepared.” His brother nodded his acceptance.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 322: War Upon The Horizon



November, 1756

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“We were under the impression that under the Treaty of Bruges, the Ohio Country was ours.” George said, holding up the letter which had come from Versailles.

“It is, Sire.” His brother, the Duke of Cambridge and Secretary of State for the Southern Department said.

“Then why has King Louis sent me a letter claiming otherwise?” George demanded.

“I do not know, Sire.” Cambridge said. “It appears that the French have taken a different interpretation of what the Bruges Treaty meant.”

“A different interpretation?” George whispered.

“Mainly that the Treaty had an expiration date and that after that it would revert back to the French.” Cambridge replied.

“And was there such a clause?” George demanded, he could not imagine his father agreeing to such a thing, King James had been too clever for that.

“No, Sire. There was talk of one being included, but His Majesty King James disagreed with it.” Cambridge said.

“So, on what basis is King Louis now claiming the Ohio Country?” George demanded.

“The basis of pressure from colonial settlers and a desire to outdo us, Sire.” William Pitt, First Lord of Trade said.

“Go on.” George said fixing his gaze on the man, Pitt was smart, if somewhat brash.

“The French settlers are no doubt feeling threatened by the increase in our settlements in America. Therefore, they no doubt are writing to the Governor General of New France and the King, begging him to allow them to expand their own territory. France can only feel secure with more land and borders, otherwise they no doubt feel they are under a constant risk of attack. Just as in Europe.” William Pitt said. “Therefore, they need this land and the King will feel he has to allow it.”

“Even though it means violating a treaty and not having their word taken seriously again.” George mused.

“I do not think King Louis or the French give that treaty much weight, Sire.” Pitt replied. “If they did they would respect our claims to the country.”

“There’s another thing that might make matters worse, Sire.” Cambridge said.

George looked at his brother, wondering what that could possibly be. “Go on.”

“It seems that Governor Dinwiddie appointed a man known as George Washington to negotiate a French retreat, when the French refused, Dinwiddie then demanded that Washington attack the French garrison at Fort Le Boeuf.” Cambridge said.

George felt his jaw drop open. “Under whose authority did Dinwiddie do that?”

“His own, Sire.” Cambridge replied. “He believed that as Governor of Virginia and as the senior most governor, it was his right to order the attack.”

To say he was angry was an understatement, he was furious. This was a massive overreach by Dinwiddie and something that would most definitely need to be corrected. “Send a letter to Dinwiddie, telling him that we wish for him to present himself before us at the earliest.”

“Yes, Sire.” Cambridge said.

“What has the French response been?” George asked.

“In the colonies, they have started preparing for war.” Cambridge said. “And my spies in France report that the King has started preparing his navy as well.”

“Then we must do the same, we must also send an army to the colonies.” George said. “Send word to the Secretary of War, inform him that he must send us a recommendation for a commander by week’s end.”

“Yes Sire.” Cambridge replied.

“Perhaps we can end this war before it begins.” George said, though he highly doubted that.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 323: Wandering Rover



March, 1757

​

“His Royal Highness The Duke of Gloucester.” The Lord Chancellor cried.

James, recently ascended to the title of Duke of Gloucester, following his father’s death in December, rose and made his way to the podium to speak. “Thank you, Lord Chancellor.” He cleared his throat and looked around then said. “My lords, the matter is simple, the troops which have been sent to America are necessary for its defence. The French cannot be allowed to assume control of Ohio Country nor can we allow them to defy the Treaty of Bruges. To do so would be to undermine the very purpose of the Treaty and our standing.”

James sat down, and the Lord Chancellor then called out. “The Earl of Bedford.”

Bedford was slim, agile and quick of thought, he really should have been in government, but the King disliked him. “Thank you, Lord Chancellor.” Bedford then looked at him. “His Royal Highness says the troops under Brigadier General Amherst needed to be sent, but why? We did not start a war with the French, that was Governor Dinwiddie, and yet that man remains in post. How can His Royal Highness say that this war is being fought for our standing, when it seems it is being fought to protect Dinwiddie!”

James rose, ignoring the boos from his side. “Lord Bedford raises an interesting question. Governor Dinwiddie did start this war, but he acts as a representative of His Britannic Majesty in the colonies and therefore, what he has started must be defended. We cannot allow His Britannic Majesty’s subjects to be treated quite so awfully. You have all heard the rumours of what the French did to the Indians on the border.” There were murmurs at that, James continued. “They are true. We had a report from one John Jay confirming that the French raped the Indian women and burned their bodies after they were done. Such outrages must be answered.”

James sat down and smiled, Bedford was in a difficult position now. Did he agree with what James had just said and thus undermine his position, or did he disagree and come across as a madman. Bedford rose and said. “So, what is it? Are we going to defend the Indians or to defend our own interests?”

Interesting. James thought as he rose to answer. “Both.” He said simply.

“How can it be both?!” Bedford exclaimed.

“Simple. We have a duty to protect the innocent when they are wronged as the Indians so clearly were by the French and we have a duty to ensure that our obligations in America are carried out.” James said.

“And how long do you expect this war to last for?” Bedford demanded.

Here, James hesitated, he didn’t want to say something only for it to be countered later on. “As long as is necessary.”

“That is not an answer.” Bedford replied.

James smiled. “It is as much as one as I can give you before we know more.”

“So you are covering yourself?” Bedford snarled.

“Watch your tone, Lord Bedford.” The Lord Chancellor said.

“Apologies.” Bedford said though he didn’t look sorry.

​

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 324: India



August, 1757

​

“You have come a long way on a thin promise.” Shivaji said to the man standing before him.

“I have come, Your Imperial Majesty with the hope that our two Kingdoms may be able to renew ties of friendship.” The man said to him, his Sanskrit slightly accented.

“And what do you have to offer us for this?” Shivaji asked.

“The opportunity to drive out the English from your lands, Your Imperial Majesty.” The man said.

“How?” Shivaji asked. He did not mind the English, they paid their duties on time and they had helped train his soldiers, but some of his ministers argued they were a threat to the long term stability of the Empire, and as such, he had to consider his options.

“They are planning on expanding passed the confines of Surat and Bombay, Your Imperial Majesty.” The man said. “My spies have learned that they intend to make offers to the Rajput Princes and to provide them with arms and money to rebel against Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Why?” Shivaji asked, not sure if the man was being honest or lying through his teeth, he had heard nothing of this.

“Because they sense an opportunity, Sire, and they know that the Rajputs hunger for war.” The man said.

“And how reliable is this information?” Shivaji asked.

“Very, Sire.” The man replied, he pulled out a letter from his pocket and handed it to one of Shivaji’s guards who handed it to him. Shivaji looked at it and sighed.

“How would you propose we handle this issue?” He asked.

“An allied strike on British territory, Your Imperial Majesty.” The man said. “With Your Imperial Majesty’s permission I shall order the French soldiers stationed in our towns to prepare to deploy, we can then meet at a halfway point and strike out from there.”

Shivaji shook his head. “No that would take too long. We shall order our navy to attack Bombay, and send our own troops to take Surat.”

The man looked surprised and also worried by this. “Sire…”

“The British have a town called Fort St George in the south, if your men can take that it is yours.” Shivaji said.

The man’s eyes widened and then he bowed his head. “Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.”

Shivaji nodded, waved a hand and said. “We shall inform you when we have devised an appropriate plan.” The man bowed and departed, leaving Shivaji to wonder what he might have just gotten himself in for.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 325: Matchbox



November, 1757

​

“You’re telling us that the Swedish King is deliberately being provocative?” Frederick asked.

“It would seem so, Sire.” Count Waldemar said. “He has received support from France and exclusive trading rights with them as well as with Poland.”

“And this has emboldened him?” Frederick asked.

“It would seem so.” Waldemar said.

Frederick wanted to groan, of course something like this would happen now of all times. Just when he had thought they’d avoided being swept up into the conflict engulfing western Europe, something new came along. “How serious would the damage be?”

“Sire?” Waldemar asked.

“How serious would the damage be if we got involved in a war?” Frederick asked.

“To our finances?” Waldemar replied. “It would depend on how long we fought for. To our army, if we went up against Sweden alone, we would lose.”

Frederick sighed, that wasn’t exactly encouraging. He’d tried to avoid letting the army stagnate, but it seemed that it had. Still, all was not lost. “We still have allies though do we not?”

“We do, Sire.” Count Waldemar replied. “Russia and Prussia have both expressed an interest in dealing with Sweden’s Empire, and Britannia has expressed an interest in preventing France grow dominant in the region.”

“And how soon could Russia mobilise?” Frederick asked, he wondered if the Russian army could overpower the Swedish one through sheer numbers, and if so, whether that might be the strategy to adopt.

“Within a few months, Sire. Our ambassador reports they’ve been slowly doing so.” Waldemar said.

“Then we must prepare our own army.” Frederick said. “If we are to take advantage of the situation now, we must show that we ourselves are ready to take action when called to do so.”

“How many men shall we need, Sire?” Waldemar asked.

“The regular army is roughly 20,000 men.” Frederick said, remembering the figures he’d looked at a few months ago. “We shall need another five thousand men to make things sustainable.”

“Very well, I shall write up the order at once.” Waldemar said.

“Good, and make sure that the companies are prepared by March, we do not want anything to go amiss.” Frederick said, he didn’t want to be caught with his pants down.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 326: Whirlwinds Of Time



April, 1758

​

“So, you’re telling me the mighty British army was defeated?” Leopold Charles, Archduke of Flanders asked.

“It would seem so, Sire.” Karl Linge his chief minister said.

“How?” Leopold demanded, he had always thought the Britannic army was unbeatable.

“It seems that the Duc de Berry led them on a wild goose chase around the border before eventually forcing them to fight on ground that they didn’t like.” Karl answered.

“And so they lost.” Leopold said. “What of the army under the command of Field Marshal du Plessis?” The man was his most experienced commander and someone he wanted winning regularly.

“They are marching to Ostend to meet with the remains of the Britannic army.” Linge said.

“And from there they will march on the Brussels line, as we commanded.” Leopold said.

“Exactly, Sire.” Linge replied.

“And what of the Dutch? Has that miserly bastard Orange bestirred himself yet?” Leopold asked, the Prince of Orange was many things but proactive was not one of them.

“His Highness the Prince of Orange has sent word saying that he intends to let the Dutch Fleet aid the Britannic fleet during the oncoming fighting in the Channel and the North Sea. And that he intends to raise more regiments.” Linge said.

“That will take months then. Months of time in which the French could well breach the Brussels Line and take the city.” Leopold said. He didn’t fear much, but being a prisoner at the hands of the French? That was not something he wanted.

“Perhaps then it might be time to consider a solution, Sire.” Linge said.

“A solution?” Leopold replied. “You mean like the plan you proposed earlier?”

“Yes, Sire. I think it is a reasonable thing to prepare for.” Linge said.

“No, absolutely not. I will not go scampering off to the Netherlands just because the French wolf is at the door. I will not abandon my people.” Leopold said.

“Even if doing so may enable you to continue the fight from abroad, Sire?” Linge asked.

“If I am abroad, the fight has died. I will not go.” Leopold replied. “And if you propose this again I will have you executed for treason.”

Linge bowed his head. “My apologies, Sire.”

Leopold waved a hand signalling that all was forgotten, but he made a mental note to keep Linge watched. If the man showed any signs of fleeing, he’d have him killed.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 327: Rowley



August, 1758

​

His orders had been simple, protect Florida from the French, ensure they couldn’t land a single ship on the coastline of the Spanish colony. The reality was much more difficult. The French had brought what seemed like an Armada to take the colony, and the twenty-five ships he had with him from the Jamaica Station were nowhere near enough to fight off this bombardment.

Other ships had been sent northwards to the lands of Quebec to try and rest the province from the French whilst other ships were patrolling the eastern seaboard to prevent the French from trying to take New York or other such colonies. And thus here he was, his ship shaking and his bones rattling as the cannons fired off one after the other and as ships smashed into one another desperately trying to get something, anything to break.

“The French are still pushing hard, Admiral.” Captain Parker said.

“How many have we lost now?” William asked.

“Somewhere between six and seven ships, Admiral.” Parker said.

“We are going to have to hold firm until reinforcements can come.” William said, he had written a letter and sent it by bird as quickly as he could figure out the situation.

“I am not sure if we will be able to hold, Admiral.” Parker said.

William sighed. “You think our line will break before we have the chance to get reinforcements?”

Before Parker could respond, a cannon ball hit the ship nearest them, before another one hit it and sunk it. William heard the cries of the crew and said a prayer, this was not going well. He took a breath and then said. “Prepare the ship, we’re going in.”

“Admiral?” Parker asked, surprised.

“We are not going to let others die around us whilst we sit here. I am the commander of this battle group, and I will not allow more of my men to die.” William barked. He moved to the front of the ship. “Now let us set sail.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Parker responded, he heard the man bark out a series of orders and felt the ship begin to move.

William knew then as the ship moved and he saw what was happening before him, that he likely wouldn’t survive this encounter, and that the French may well land on Florida, but he would be damned if he was going to let them take it without a fight. He was not some weakling after all, he was a subject of His Britannic Majesty and he was going to fight.

“Ram ahead!” William barked. The order was passed down the line and the ship picked up speed before it rammed into the opposing ship, the ship pulled back and then did the same again and again, another ship fired off a cannon and the thing hit his ship. He could feel the thing begin to groan under the strain. He drew his pistol and then said. “For the King!”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 328: Austria, Worry



December, 1758

​

“We think the threat of the Ottomans is greater than the French incursion.” Leopold said. “We cannot allow them to threaten our flank.” Reports had come in that the Sultan was finally moving off his arse and was preparing an invasion into Croatia. If such a thing did happen, Leopold wanted to be ready to meet him in the field, to finally destroy the threat.

“But, our allies will want reassurances that there will be pressure exerted on the French King, Sire.” Rudolf Neuburg replied. “After all, the Elector Palatinate has given much to fighting the French.”

“And it is because of that man’s efforts that King Louis is now looking at the Rhine as a potential field of battle, beforehand he was content to fight in Flanders.” Leopold said, he knew he should have considered sending men to aid his cousin in Flanders, but the area was just so far away.

“Do you not think it is worth aiding the fight on the Rhine, Sire?” Rudolf asked.

Leopold bit back a sigh, he knew why Neuburg was so desperate to get involved in the potential action on the Rhine, his mother had once been mistress to the Elector, and as such he felt a familial tie to the man, even if the Elector had never actually claimed him. He was smart, was Rudolf, but he was a bit easy to pull on. “We believe that our energies would be better spent dealing with the Ottomans.”

Before Rudolf could speak though, Leopold’s son, Joseph, King of the Romans spoke. “Perhaps, we could send an army to the Rhine, Sire? Whilst keeping an army prepared for the Ottomans.”

Leopold raised an eyebrow. “Who would command?” He didn’t want his son taking the field, the younger man had done well during his last campaign, but Leopold was old and he knew he didn’t’ have long left. He wanted his heir in Vienna for when the day came.

“Archduke Leopold could command the army on the Rhine, to show that we are committed, whilst Archduke Joseph could command the army that fights the Ottomans?” Joseph suggested.

Leopold had to admit that his son had made a valid point, Both men were capable and were smart enough to not rub the other generals in the army the wrong way. “Very well, we shall give the orders to ensure that they are both prepared for what they must do.”

“Thank you, Sire.” Neuburg said with barely disguised delight.

“But we shall not want a long war with France, our focus is the Ottomans.” Leopold added.

“Of course, Sire.” Neuburg said.

“Good.” Leopold said, feeling the ache in his bones already.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 329: Ohio



April, 1759

​

“Charge!” George yelled, lifting his sword high into the air and then urging his horse on. They had a lot of work to do, the French had been quick off the chase to push into the Ohio Country and they’d managed to hold off British incursions for months now. George had been tasked by General Amherst with ensuring that that ended. If he succeeded they’d have a way in. If he failed, he’d likely be dead.

The French didn’t have any big artillery, which was relief because he’d had to abandon his artillery some six miles away from here due to the mud and the dirt. Instead they’d be relying on good old fashioned cavalry and infantry to push through French defences. The Ohio River was on the back end of the French defence force, and as such, George knew he needed to push them that way unless he wanted to be caught in a flanking movement.

The ground was already starting to give way under him, his horse was whinnying nervously. He had to calm it down with some pressure from his legs. The first Frenchman he found was some boy, who looked no older than George’s cousin Charles who was in the army with him. George swung his sword and felt the blow connect. He moved on, confident that the man wouldn’t have survived such an impact.

Another Frenchman, this one with a big gun stepped forward to meet him. George punched him with his free hand and then knocked him out with the butt of his sword. He kept going. His blood pumping erratically. He knew that his time was perhaps running to a clock, so he needed to get as much done as possible.

George found himself getting swept up in the fray soon after that. His sword sung as it moved from one victim to the next, very few of them could get back at him, those that did only managed to scrape him. He felt invincible, which probably meant he was due for a reckoning at some point in the near future. When he got a moment to breathe through the chaos and the push, he observed the battlefield.

They had pushed the French closer toward the Ohio River, but they still had some way to go before they could successfully complete their mission. He did not think the French would want to keep fighting if their men were drowning. He took a breath and then urged his horse onward, there was still much to do, and as commander of this little army group, it was his duty to see it through.

As he got back into the swing of things, he found himself fighting a big burly Frenchman, who was stood swinging an axe. George ducked the man’s blows and then hit him in the gaps between his cover and his body. The man grunted but continued to fight. George pushed on, trying to get a gap in the man’s protection to strike him down. It was harder than he thought.

He heard a crack in the distance, and assumed someone had finally gotten their pistol out. It was only when he heard his horse groan that he realised that it had been his horse that had been shot. He struggled to get off the beast in time, his sword ended up plunged into the animal, whilst he sort of dangled off the stirrups, trying not to fall onto his legs. The big burly Frenchman stalked over to him laughing.

“You cannot expect to live now.” The man said in halting English.

“You would not murder someone who cannot defend themselves.” George replied.

“This is war.” The man said shrugging.

George wanted to plea for his life, but he was a Washington, and he had more dignity than that, so he merely watched as the man stood before him and raised his axe up high. He closed his eyes as the thing came swinging down toward him.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 330: Mother to Daughter



September, 1759

​

“How are you finding things, dearest?” Anne asked, speaking in the German of her youth, looking at her daughter in law Mary.

“Much better, Your Majesty, thank you. I think I’ve found the right balance between work and rest.” Mary said.

“That is good, and the children are not bothering you too much?” Anne asked, her daughter in law had given birth to two children in two years, both of them boys, and she knew the younger woman must be exhausted, especially as she was taking a much more hands on approach than others did.

“Not at all, Your Majesty.” Mary said. “Indeed, they are both quiet babes. I think that has been what has surprised me the most.”

Anne smiled. “That is good, James was a quiet babe himself. Never cried much more than usual.” Indeed, it had been quite the opposite to what she had been led to expect, she had thought her son would be as loud and as frequent a crier as her daughters had been, that had most definitely not been the case.

“I had a question about James, actually, Your Majesty.” Her daughter in law said tentatively.

“Oh?” Anne replied, she hadn’t seen as much of her son as she would have liked recently, given he was so busy working for the war and ensuring nothing went awry there, she could understand that, but it still didn’t mean she didn’t miss him.

“I…” her daughter in law trailed off, as if she were unsure of what she wanted to say or rather how to say it. “I…have noticed a change in him.”

“A change?” Anne asked, feeling her eyebrows raise.

“He’s become more withdrawn as of late, less communicative. I…I do not know if it is because I have done something wrong or?” Mary said.

“Oh.” Anne said. “No, darling you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Then why has he changed?” Mary asked.

Anne sighed. It seemed her son was far more like his father than he would have liked to have admitted. “Because he is under pressure. The war is going against us, Mary, and until that changes, I fear that much like his father, James will continue to work and work.”

“I understand that, but he could at least talk to me about what is bothering him so.” Mary said. “How am I to be a good wife to him if I do not know what it is that is worrying him?”

Anne wanted to laugh, she had had this conversation with George so many times in the past, that to hear it coming from someone else’s lips was something else entirely. She took her daughter in law’s hand in hers and said. “You must give him time. You must let him do what he must, when he feels ready he will come to you.”

“You are sure?” Mary asked, sounding not like a woman, but a scared girl.

Anne nodded. “I am.” At least, she hoped she was.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 331: Norway



March, 1760

​

They’d crossed into Norway with very little difficulty. It was almost as if the Danes had wanted them to cross, for when they’d arrived, they’d not met any resistance for miles around. They’d gotten further inland and still not met any resistance. It had been quite terrifying if he were being honest, but Karl was not someone to balk at that. He looked fear in the eye and laughed at it.

He had ordered them to make camp and to prepare for any possible attacks. So far, it seemed as if that had been an unnecessary precaution, but one couldn’t be too careful. The Danes were known for being tricky bastards. He took the cup of wine from his servant and took a sip, he then looked around the room and asked. “What news?”

“Sire,” Field Marshal Reinfold, one of the main commanders in this army, spoke then. “We have received reports of a small Danish force to the north of our position.”

“How small?” He asked.

“Perhaps one thousand men, all infantry.” Reinfold said.

Karl considered this, they had roughly twelve thousand men with them, some cavalry, most infantry. They had options here. “What is the layout of the territory where they are camped?” He asked.

“Flat, mostly, Sire.” Reinfold replied. “They have not dug any trenches or defences.”

“Could it be a trap?” His son Gustav asked. “Perhaps they are hoping to lure us toward them and that would be when a larger force would appear.”

Karl looked at his son and then at Reinfold, the younger man made a valid point, there was a possibility that this was a trap, he didn’t think the Danish King had the brains for it, but his commanders might. “Reinfold?” He asked.

“I do not think this is a trap, Sire.” Reinfold said. “I have had men scout the area for miles around, there are no signs of another army within the vicinity.”

Karl pondered this, one thousand men camped close at hand, with no sign that their master had sent anyone else to defend them, it seemed too good to be true, and perhaps it was, which was why he asked. “Has there been any sign that these men know that we are here?”

“None, Sire. They seem blissfully unaware.” Reinfold said.

“It seems that we have been given the perfect opportunity.” Karl said. “But we are still doubtful about its sincerity. Therefore, we shall send five hundred men out to meet these men. We shall wait and see what they do before we then act further.”

“Sire.” Reinfold said.

“Give command to Mannerheim.” Karl commanded. “Let us see what that young Fin can do.”

“Yes, Sire.” Reinfold said.

Karl nodded and then turned his attention to other matters.