A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain

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Chapter 158: Institutions Of Scorn



April, 1713​

Maria took a moment to breathe. Things were always hectic now. Running backwards and forwards, trying desperately to find some way to plug the gap that had grown within the kingdom and empire she had inherited. At times, she wondered if the nobles of the court would treat her as they did if she had been born with a penis, instead of the cunt nestled between her legs. At other times, she was happy to have been born a woman for it meant her nobles underestimated her. Still, she did not think she was exaggerating when she thought she might not survive to make it to sixty.

She cleared her throat and the council looked to her. “We are still focused on the debt we have inherited. Though peace has reigned now for almost five years, we are still receiving missives from the Bankers of Europe demanding repayment. We must know where we stand on this.”

Garcia de Mercado, her finance minister spoke. “Your Majesty, we are still looking for ways to plug the debt. The Cortes will not agree to raise the taxation level any higher, and the merchants are growing tired of having to pay extra. If we slap tariffs onto goods from France we risk starting another war, which is one we cannot afford.”

“SO, what are you saying?” Maria demanded, though she already had a decent enough idea.

“I am saying, Your Majesty, that we might need to default on the repayment of the loans for the time being.” Mercado said.

Maria bit back a sigh. “To default on a loan repayment would be the height of embarrassment.” She had read about what had happened when her ancestor Felipe II had defaulted and the mess he had left his successor. She looked at her own son, Leopold, twenty-five and a father himself, married to a Princess of Portugal. She did not want to leave such a thing to him.

“I think that perhaps if we raised taxation on those merchants in Aragon and elsewhere we might be able to cover the debt.” Mercado said.

“We thought you just said that the merchants and the Cortes would not countenance another hike in the taxation rate?” Maria asked.

“The Cortes and Merchants of Castile, Your Majesty. But the Aragonese know that sooner or later they will have to do their bit for the Kingdom, and as such they are willing.” Mercado said.

Maria looked at her husband, he had been sleeping with some whore, the Duke of Alba’s cousin she thought, but he was still dedicated to preserving things for their children. “Maximilian, you shall go and speak with the Aragonese nobles.”

Her husband said nothing for a moment and then replied. “I think it would be better if Leopold went. He is after all the heir to the throne and will be ruling once you are gone.” There was something in the way her husband said those words that heightened her suspicions, but she ignored it all the same.

Her son spoke then. “I agree with Father, Your Majesty. I would be better suited to going. The grandees know me and they like me more.”

For a moment, Maria wanted to say that the fact that the grandees liked him was reason enough not to send him, but then she decided against it. Perhaps it would make sense to send him then. “Very well, you shall go, with an escort. Alba shall go with you.” Her son nodded.

Alba, spoke then. “Your Majesty, there was the matter of Britannia and her alliance with France as well.”

Maria nodded. “Indeed. We find it concerning that the British who profess to be our allies are siding with the French, those who are the greatest challenge to us. We think that perhaps we must find a way to break that alliance.”

Maximilian spoke then. “No doubt the British are looking at bringing Florida into their own possession as a consequence of this alliance. We shall need to reform the navy and ensure it is able to compete with the British fleet.”

“Such a thing will cost money.” Maria pointed out. “Money we do not have.”

“Then perhaps Leopold should be sent to Aragon as soon as possible to get the grandees to agree to the raising of taxation.” Maximilian replied.

“And perhaps we should be best served by offering either Maximilian or our granddaughter to the British as a marriage contender.” Maria suggested.

“I think such a move would be most wise.” Leopold said. “It would show that we are still serious about achieving matrimonial alliances. And this meeting with the Emperor in a few weeks’ time will do wonders for ensuring the headaches are removed.”

“Very well.” Maria said. “We shall write the proposal.”

 

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For those curious, here's Spain's family tree so far

 

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For context

 

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Chapter 159: Imperial Diet



June, 1713​

Joseph could feel some aches creeping into his body. That was quite strange though, he was only thirty-five. He supposed it was likely because of the lifestyle he had lived. The mistresses he had before his daughter had been born. Joseph had decided he needed to set an example for his son, and he knew his wife appreciated that. She was good in bed at least. He blinked. His son was now King of the Romans and sixteen years old, soon enough he would need to be married. Perhaps this diet would be a chance to assess who could be considered for him. The diet had been summoned to discuss the matter of Bavaria as he had not been able to resolve the issue with his brother by marriage.

Joseph looked at the man, who by virtue of his marriage to Joseph’s sister was King of Spain, was an arrogant little man. By virtue of his ambition he was a snake. Joseph looked at the Papal legate and nodded. The man spoke. “Your Imperial Majesty, Your Highnesses, we are here today to discuss the matter of the succession to the Electorate of Bavaria. Since the peace of Utrecht five years ago, there has been much debate and discussion over who has the right to succeed His Most Catholic Majesty Maximilian of Spain, in his role as Elector of Bavaria. Therefore, we are here to hear both arguments and sides, and allow the electors to make their decision.”

Joseph went first. “Gentlemen, we all know the law of the land. The firstborn son and their heirs must succeed the Elector, unless the firstborn makes a marriage of a dissimilar rank. Only then can the situation be that the second son inherit. However, given the marriage that the Prince of Asturias has made and the resulting issue, this cannot happen. We cannot tolerate the union of Spain and Bavaria in perpetuity, it brings about a problematic union and one that would harm the Empire.” He said those words knowing full well that the Empire was not united and hadn’t been for some time. He continued regardless. “Therefore, we propose a solution. We have written to His Holiness in Rome, and to His Eminence the Archbishop of Cologne, and both have agreed that should the Archbishop renounce his clerical titles and be willing to marry, under the law, His Holiness would grant the man the right to take the title. So long as the Elector renounced his rights and those of his descendants to Bavaria. We feel this is the most appropriate solution.”

There were some murmurs then, and Maximilian stepped forward. “Your Imperial Majesty, we understand your concerns, however, we find them unfounded. There is no need to deprive our brother of his clerical career, one he has worked so hard for. Instead, I have here a written document from our firstborn son Leopold, Prince of Asturias announcing that he will willingly renounce his right to Bavaria along with those of his descendants. All it requires is your approval, and that of this diet. It will consequently allow our second son Maximilian to become heir to the Electorate.”

There was even more murmuring there. Joseph looked at his brother by marriage and then asked. “And has your second son agreed to renounce his rights to Spain?”

Now there was silence, and Joseph suspected he had caught the Elector in a trap, for his eyes briefly widened. They then normalised. “We see no reason why he would need to renounce his rights to Spain. He is a second son, and our firstborn has already had one son, his wife is young as is he, there is time yet for him to have more children.”

“So, the risk of a union remains?” The Elector Palatine asked. Joseph nodded in agreement.

“Only if you ignore the real fact that our daughters might also inherit the throne of Spain.” Maximilian said.

“And if your daughters inherit Spain, what is there to stop their husband from trying to do as Louis of France did when the Palatine succession changed?” Joseph probed, knowing such a thing would provoke the Elector.

“Our daughters would never be married to France.” Maximilian said.

“Even in a situation of pressure?” Joseph demanded. “Can you guarantee that?”

“Nothing in life can be guaranteed, Your Imperial Majesty. But we do think that you are worrying unnecessarily. There are some things that must happen. We believe our son Maximilian is more than equipped to be our heir here. And our governor.” Maximilian said.

Joseph thought on it for a moment and then said. “Let us put it to a vote.”

The Papal Legate spoke then. “Those in favour of Joseph Clemens raise your hand.”

Joseph raised his hand, as did the Elector of Hanover and the Elector Palatine and the Elector of Cologne himself.

“Those in favour of His Royal Highness Prince Maximilian, please raise your hand.” The legate said.

Maximilian raised his hand, the Elector of Saxony raised his hand, the Elector of Mainz and the Elector of Trier also raised their hands.

“We are at a tie. The Elector of Brandenburg has written in with his vote.” The legate said, he opened a piece of paper that had been brought before him. He held his breath and then said. “The Elector of Brandenburg has voted for Prince Maximilian.” There was a pause and then. “His Holiness recognises His Royal Highness Prince Maximilian as the heir to Elector Maximilian and recognises the renunciation of His Royal Highness the Prince of Asturias and that of his heirs.”

Joseph sighed this was not the result he had wanted, but he supposed it would have to do. He nodded rose and walked out of the room, deciding to write to London and see if they could end this little war happening between Prussia and Sweden.

 

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Chapter 160: Reconciliation



August, 1713​

The messenger had come some months ago, bearing word that Abigail Masham had been confined to her chambers, and that his mother the Queen was asking for his return. He had obliged, and now here he was, sat in his mother’s rooms with his wife at his side. James had to admit he preferred Hampton Court to Whitehall, the palace might be as big as Versailles, but to him it just reminded him of bad memories. Perhaps when he became King he could change the scenery and move court permanently there to Hampton. He looked at his wife who smiled and took his hand. He straightened and then looked at his mother.

Queen Anne was obese now, and her legs were heavily swollen, even though the blanket she wore to cover the sight. She looked at him and began. “We would like to apologise. The last time we met we said things that we did not mean, and were influenced by the most nefarious of people. We are not only Queen, but your mother, and our behaviour was not appropriate.”

James bowed his head. “My behaviour was not appropriate, Your Majesty. There was no reason for my argumentative style. I apologise.”

His mother took his hand then and kissed it. “You need never apologise to us, James. We are your mother; we will always love you no matter what. We were led astray by Mrs Masham and we wish to rectify that.”

James went to speak to ask about Masham, but Caroline squeezed his hand and he fell silent before saying. “We wish for the same as well, Your Majesty.”

The Queen smiled. “How are the children doing?” James knew that his mother had always loved her grandchildren, she doted on George and Anne, and James as well and with Caroline pregnant once more there would be more children for her to dote on.

“They are well, Your Majesty.” Caroline answered. “George is reading his words and numbers very well, whilst Anne can now sow some very pretty things. James, has discovered a liking for painting.”

Mother smiled. “You must bring them with you next time.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” James and Caroline answered together.

The Queen then looked at Caroline’s stomach and asked. “How many more months before the next little one joins us?”

“Another four months, Your Majesty.” Caroline answered.

“Perfect.” The Queen answered.

There was a brief pause and then the Queen continued. “As you may see, our illness prevents us from leaving too often, therefore, James we wish for your opinion on the situations within government.”

James thought on that for a moment, upon his return, Somerset had briefed him on what Harley had been doing and as such he had quickly taken over, with Masham gone it was much easier. “Well, Your Majesty, I think that the Harvest Act will make a smooth passage through both houses of Parliament. Harley has got his friends onside and the Tories dominate the Commons. In the lords, every single lord I have spoken to acknowledges the benefits to it.”

“Good.” The Queen said. “We must have a better system than France has to prevent famine.”

“Indeed.” James answered. He continued. “As to the Scots, well Argyll has finally consented to the teaching of Episcopalian sermons within the diocese in his lands. This has encouraged others on the west coast, especially in Glasgow to do the same as well.”

The Queen clapped her hands. “Perfect, we shall write to congratulate William.”

James smiled, he knew his brother would appreciate that. He went to speak more but then his mother held up a hand. “We have heard enough for now. The time has come to speak on more pressing matters. Mainly what to do with Mistress Abigail. We have kept her confined to her rooms for the past few months. We are not ashamed to admit that we are scared of dealing with her. She speaks poisonously sweet words.”

“Your Majesty, I would suggest that she be tried and then executed. We have looked into the records of her expenditure and her purse. She has been taking money from the privy purse.” James answered. “She has committed treason.”

His mother looked shocked. “Truly?”

“Truly.” James replied.

“But execution is something that would lead to rumours and whispers. And the mere fact that she has taken money and stolen from us would be a grave embarrassment.” The Queen said.

“Letting her live would be the far greater embarrassment, Your Majesty.” James replied.

“But by putting her on trial, it would necessitate the truth coming out. If the opposition found out that she had stolen from us, if our enemies found out? We would be the laughing stock of Europe.” The Queen replied.

Caroline spoke then. “Might I suggest an alternative?” The Queen nodded. “Banish her from court, banish her from the Kingdom if you must. Print documents in The Guardian disparaging her as a harlot and a cheat, someone who lost her place due to her indiscretion. There are countless records of her speaking like a common dockside whore, Your Majesty. Simply tell Sir Stephen Fox what needs written and it will be done, and none need know that she has stolen from you.”

“And how do you presume to stop her from speaking?” James asked.

Caroline smiled. “We remind her that her husband’s career depends on her keeping her mouth shut. She loves the man, and he is desperate to be a soldier. Should she talk, he will lose his commission.”

James looked at the Queen and asked. “Your Majesty?”

The Queen looked relieved. “Yes, we approve of that. We shall write to Sir Stephen. No, we wish for you to go to him today and tell him of our wish.”

James bowed his head. “At once, Your Majesty.”

 

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Chapter 161: October Wedding



October, 1713​

Wearing the uniform of a naval officer, George knelt before his mother, the Queen. He had wondered how long it would be before he too was called to marry. At twenty-one he thought he’d managed better than either of his brothers, James married at seventeen and William at twenty. It was something that he thought he might avoid, given Mother’s desire to keep him close. But Abigail Masham had been dismissed from court, and things were slowly returning to normalcy though Mother’s condition continued to get worse. He was almost taller than her, and he was kneeling, yet she remained in her chair.

“We knight you, Sir George, and confer upon you the titles Duke of Gloucester and Strathearn, Earl of Newcastle and Baron Cork. We name you to the Order of the Garter and confer upon you the honour of the Order of the Thistle. Do you swear to uphold your vows as a knight of the Order and as a Royal Prince?”

“I do.” George answered, he knew that the marriage to Henrietta would give him lands and estates enough to ensure he didn’t need to reside at court so often. That the girl was someone he liked was a benefit as well.

“Then rise, and be ready.” The Queen commanded, she moved back.

George rose, he bowed before the Queen and then straightened. The Queen was wheeled out of the room toward the coach, the Duchess of Somerset pushed the chair. George looked at his brothers both of whom had come to attend this ceremony and even his sister Sophie who was soon to be married to the heir to the Princedom of Orange. He smiled and said. “Well let’s get on with this.” He walked out and made his way to the carriage, he got in and sat down, his brothers accompanying him, Sophie would be with their mother.

As the carriage made its way out of the palace toward Westminster Abbey, William asked. “What rank did you get given?”

It was custom it seemed for the brothers to be promoted on their marriage. William had been made a Major upon his marriage, and James, well the Prince of Wales was a Colonel, and likely to be Brigadier General soon enough. “Commander.” George replied smiling. “Her Majesty thought it fit.”

“What sort of ship will you be commanding?” James asked.

“Twenty-one gun.” George said. “Will be deployed as part of the Channel Fleet.”

“Quite the promotion.” William said.

“Aye.” George said. They fell silent then, passing the journey in a companionable silence form their youth. They were no longer young though, not any of them. James had ruled the country effectively since Father’s death, William had got the Duke of Argyll and the West of Scotland to convert to Episcopalism, and him? Well he’d be deployed soon enough. The French would need to be reminded of who ruled the waves.

They got to the Abbey, and the carriage door opened. “Groom first.” James commanded. George smiled and got out. He straightened out and then advanced to the doors of the abbey.

“Has the Queen arrived?” He asked.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” The guard said. “Her Majesty is sat at the front.”

“Excellent.” George commented. The doors opened and he strode in. The eyes of the people in attendance turned to him, he saw some of his friends from court, the Pelham brothers and that mad man St John, and others as well. Cousin Grafton was there with his wife and children, and that idiot Alban, and of course cousin Berwick. The Marlboroughs were there. George flashed a winning smile at their youngest daughter and then he was there standing near the Archbishop. Mother had specifically asked for the Archbishop to perform this ceremony, why he did not know, but he didn’t care.

He stood there for some time, and then the doors opened, he turned and watched as his bride to be entered the Abbey. The closer Henrietta got, the more nervous he started to feel. Eventually she was stood before him and he smiled at her. She smiled back at him. The Archbishop cleared his throat. “Let us begin.”

The Abbey fell silent. “We are gathered here today to see these two-people married before the eyes of God and Her Majesty the Queen and before you all. Marriage is a sacred duty before God. A commitment between a man and woman to serve one another and to provide for one another, to protect one another and their children. It is not something to be taken lightly.” A pause, and then the Archbishop said. “The groom and bride have their vows.”

George began. “I, George, do hereby take you Henrietta as my lawfully wedded wife. I do swear before God, that I shall love you and protect you from this day until our last. I shall help you and encourage you, and be a good father to our children.” He finished and fought the urge to sneeze, it was too dusty in the damned abbey.

“I, Henrietta, do hereby take you, George, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I do swear by God that I shall love you and obey you from this day until our last. I shall help you, and bear your children and be a good mother and wife.” Henrietta smiled.

The Archbishop spoke then. “Is there anyone here who believes that these two should not be married?” Nobody came forward. The Archbishop turned to them then and said. “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss.”

George leaned forward, lifted the veil and pressed his lips to hers. As he pulled away he whispered. “Welcome to the family.” He took her hand and led her to the pews as music began to play.

 

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Chapter 162: Orange



December, 1713​

William cleared his throat. It constantly pained him now, and his vision was blurry at the best of times. Death was approaching, that much he knew, but he wanted to get some things sorted before then. His son was married, had married a cousin in Princess Sophie of Great Britannia. The girl was pretty that much William could agree with his son on. He did not like the brains she supposedly had, but that was neither here nor there. He cleared his throat again and looked at the men before him.

“Gentlemen, we are meeting today because there are some pressing concerns we have about the matters of our position within Europe.” William said. He saw his son and namesake sit up then, the boy had a good head on his shoulders. “Britannia’s trade agreement with France was always going to put pressure on our own supplies, but the French attempt to get Spain into their little alliance is deeply concerning to us also. Therefore, we would be much obliged to hear your suggestions on how to handle this matter.”

William saw that his son was about to speak, but he shook his head and the boy stopped. Instead Arnold, his chief advisor spoke. “Your Highness, I think the best thing to do now would be to appeal to the Emperor, and to strike an alliance there. Russia is too far from us to be of much use, the Empire however, is not. We can benefit from the direct land access to Vienna, and furthermore, if we were to strike an alliance with the Emperor, the Savoyards might feel more comfortable taking some of our products also, due to the protection they would get from the imperial troops stationed in Milan.”

William thought on this for a moment. The plan had merit, but there were risks. “The Duke of Savoy is nothing but Versailles puppet, the moment we broach the topic with him, he will go running to his son by marriage, and that will get the French involved. No, we must find another way of getting this done.”

Keppel was not dissuaded though, instead he said. “What about using proxies within Savoy to get this done. We all know that the Duke is loath to always cater to Versailles, perhaps if we have the ambassador pitch it as something he himself has come up with, he might be more willing.”

William thought on that for a moment and then said. “Who is our ambassador to Savoy?”

“Lord Bentwick, Your Highness.” Keppel replied.

“Ah yes, and he has a good relationship with the Duke does he not?” William asked, the boy’s father had been a good friend of William’s but had died a few years ago, due to some heart problem or the other.

“Yes, Your Highness. The Duke always writes favourably about him.” Keppel responded with a slight twist of his mouth.

William nodded. “Very well, then write to the man and instruct him about his responsibilities.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Keppel answered.

His son then spoke. “Your Highness, since my marriage to Princess Sophie, perhaps I might be of use in convincing the Queen of Great Britannia to turn away from the French alliance she has negotiated?”

“In a few months perhaps.” William answered. “For now, you need not concern yourself with that.”

His son nodded though William could tell he would complain about it to his mother later on. “Now, another issue I wished to discuss is the matter of the fleet.”

Here, his son spoke with confidence. “Your Highness, we have enough ships of the line to confidently match the Spanish and Portuguese fleets. They are in good standing order. However, if we wish to challenge the French or the British, we will need more funding, and I am not sure with the States General with grant it.”

William thought on this for a moment and then asked. “How sure are you that the next war will be fought between Britannia and France on the seas?” This was a grand strategy plan that his son had come up with two years ago, following observations of the British fleet.

“Very sure, Your Highness. Everything I have read suggests that the first port of call for the British will be the Channel and then the Mediterranean.” His son responded.

“Very well.” William responded. “We shall speak with the States General at our next meeting.” With that he rose, and walked out of the room, before he began coughing violently.

 

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Chapter 163: Eye Of God



February, 1714
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For Raif, the most humiliating thing was that he had to take council meetings in bed. His legs had failed him, his back no longer worked as it was meant to. Someone had to carry him to the toilet, and someone had to wipe his arse for him. That was embarrassing and he spent most of his days in bed now. He had delegated most of the power to his eldest son and heir, but his son was but fifteen with little true understanding and Raif worried about that.

He beckoned Syed Hassan forward and asked. “What news?” It had been months since the last report that they had from Hassan’s brother and Raif wanted to know whether his plan had worked.

“Sire, word came from Timur two days ago, though I suspect the letter is older. Syed Abdullah and his men were set upon as they tried to enter Kabul. They were massacred, only five hundred men managed to escape.” Syed Hassan replied.

Raif raised an eyebrow. “How many went with your brother?”

“Forty thousand, Sire.” Syed Hassan replied.

“And only five hundred are returning?” Raif asked. He wondered where the rest had gone and feared one of his cousins was plotting something.

“They were either slaughtered, taken into bondage, or fled into the hinterlands, Sire.” Hassan responded.

“Who commands the remnants?” Raif asked. Such a thing was going to be a major blow to Imperial standing and he could not allow it.

“Mustafa Kamal, Sire.” Syed Hassan said. “He is marching home now.”

Raif wanted to groan, instead he bit his cheek as he thought. Syed Abdullah was dead, but this had come at the complete annihilation of his army. That was only going to encourage the Marathas to do something foolish and perhaps even encourage his cousins who were everywhere, to do something. “Do we have adequate funds in the treasury?”

“Sire?” Syed Hassan replied sounding confused.

“Five hundred men are returning home who fought and gave their lives and their bodies for the throne, we must ensure that they have enough pay.” Raif demanded, sitting up.

“I can find something.” Syed Hassan said, though Raif heard the reluctance in the man’s voice.

“Not find something, you will have something. Your brother’s estates are rich enough, take some from there and have it ready for the men when they return.” Raif commanded.

“But, Sire.” Syed Hassan began.

Raif interrupted him. “No buts. Your brother was the commander, he owes them this much, even in death.”

“Yes, Sire.” The man responded.

“Good, now what other news is there?” Raif replied. He felt as though his very being was on fire.

There was a brief pause in which Raif knew the man before him was plotting something. “The British are getting closer with the Marathas, Sire. Our spies report that the Marathas ordered something close to one thousand tonnes of gun powder, and the British are training them in the latest methods of fighting as in Europe.”

“So, they mean to break the treaty.” Raif said aloud. This did not surprise him, that Sambhaji fellow was a devil in good clothes, he would not rest till he sat in Delhi. “What of our own contact with the British?”

“Sire, I do not think we should pursue that alliance.” Syed Hassan responded.

“Why ever not?” Raif asked.

“Because they are pushing things onto our men that are not appropriate, such as drink and other such things. And their alliance with the marathas does not seem as though it is simply one of convenience now.” Syed Hassan said.

Raif laughed. “You are the owner of several dens where people go to lose their minds, Syed. You are not exactly one to speak of appropriateness. Our men drink and smoke and do other such things. Press for the alliance, and remind them who still holds Delhi.”

Syed Hassan nodded. “Yes, Sire.”

“Dismissed.” Raif said, he watched the man go and then turned to his son and said. “When you are Emperor, have him executed.”

 

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Chapter 164: Worries



May, 1714
​

The Queen was slowly worsening. She never left her chambers, and according to the Duchess of Somerset she could barely leave her bed. He had had to carry his mother once or twice to the lavatories when he had visited. The memories were burned into his mind and he could not remove them. She would die soon and then there would be all sorts of things that needed to be done. Right now, though, James pushed that thought to the back of his mind and focused on the problem facing him immediately.

He had summoned the Duke of Marlborough and the Duke of Grafton, the Commander in Chief of the Forces and Lord High Admiral respectively, to discuss his concerns. He took a breath and then said. “Gentlemen, thank you both for coming. The need for this meeting is urgent. As we are sure you are both aware, two weeks ago, the Dutch Republic almost started a war when they intercepted a French merchant convoy coming back from the Americas with goods. Only our swift talking ambassador was able to prevent full out war. Our sources in The Hague, report that this is not just a one-off thing. They report that the Dutch are very much considering making this a long-term priority.” James put his hands on the table. “Gentlemen, the prospect of war is very likely.”

The Duke of Grafton spoke first. James liked the man, he had common sense, something his siblings lacked. “Your Royal Highness, I have looked through the logs and spoken with the Board of the Admiralty, we feel that the Britannic fleet is ready to meet any challenge that the Dutch might throw at us. Our ships are more advanced, and the investment has been most useful.”

“Why were you not aware of the actions before they happened?” James asked. Usually his cousin was quite on point with such things, this lapse was worrying.

The Duke of Grafton bowed his head. “Forgive me, Your Royal Highness. I had not thought to continue patrolling those northern waters when the Dutch had not shown any sign that they were going to break the treaties of peace.”

Marlborough spoke then. “The Dutch are a cunning people, Your Royal Highness. They are likely going to try and play off this attempted start at war as nothing more than a misunderstanding, they will then build up their armed forces. The Prince of Orange is ailing, but his son has demonstrated some good smarts.”

“Indeed.” James responded. “Our spies report that it is he who is developing the martial capabilities of the Republic.” The man was his brother by marriage and a distant cousin as well. “How prepared is the army should we need to launch a war?”

Marlborough thought for a moment and then responded. “As ready as we will ever be, Your Royal Highness. We have some of the best commanders in Europe, and our weapons are the latest. Of course, one would need to consider whether or not the Dutch are truly a viable threat.”

“After that little incident, you cannot surely believe that the Dutch are not a potential enemy, Your Grace?” Grafton enquired.

“I am not saying that they are not, Lord Admiral,” Marlborough responded. “However, I am urging caution, as I believe that this might be part of the Dutch plan.”

“How so?” James asked. He wanted to hear what his former mentor had to say on this before he reached a conclusion.

The Duke said nothing for a moment and then responded. “This could be part of some plan to get us to realise where we want to sit within Europe, and bear in mind that William of Orange has his friends amongst the Whigs in Parliament, they might be feeding him information on some regard or the other. Though even if they are not, they support an alliance with him.”

“Speak plainly.” James commanded, he suspected he knew what Marlborough was getting at but this riddle speaking was beginning to annoy him.

Marlborough bowed his head. “What I mean, Your Royal Highness, is that by staging this attempted attack on a merchant convoy, the Dutch might well have wanted us to spring into action. Knowing that this would humiliate the French, it would likely draw arguments from the French and cause tensions to build again. There are those within court who favour the Dutch alliance and are opposed to the French marriage of your son, Your Royal Highness. Therefore, by stirring these tensions they are playing on two things. Your Royal Highness’s desire to defuse tension, and the humiliation this would cause France.”

James thought on this and remembered the arguments he had had with the French ambassador because of his action and the frustration he had felt. He remembered Somerset suggesting abandoning the French if this was their response, something Beaufort had also suggested. James looked at Marlborough and asked. “What would you suggest then? We cannot remain unprepared.”

“Of course not, Your Royal Highness. I would not even think to recommend such a thing. No, what I recommend is that the army and navy be put on readiness mode and should something happen then deploy them. If not, then they act as deterrents to any possible hostile action.” Marlborough said.

James thought on this for a moment and then said. “Very well, we shall speak to the Queen.”

 

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Chapter 165: Queen Anne



August, 1714​

Anne took pride in the fact that she had lived longer than the doctors said she would. She had lived longer than her last doctor. James told her that Doctor Williams had been caught trying smuggle information to the press, he had been tried for treason and executed. The press had surprisingly been the ones leading for his execution. She knew she was dying, her legs had no feeling any longer and she could barely see. She cleared her throat.

“George, George, my darling cherub are you there?” She asked. Her daughters could not come to be with her, not even Sophie her favourite, because of the actions of her fool husband.

“I’m here, Your Majesty.” George said, his wife was pregnant, Anne knew.

“You will be a good naval officer, we know. We know you will do great things for the Royal Navy as your father said you would.” Anne said, looking at what she thought was George, it was so damned hard to see.

“I will do my best, Your Majesty.” George answered.

“We love you.” Anne said, and she heard George whisper it back. “William.” Her second son had come from Scotland, with a full military unit, for one reason or another. she heard whispers of a campaign into Ireland, but was not sure what that meant.

“I’m here Your Majesty.” Her second son said.

“My darling soldier. You were always strong. You will make a fine general.” Anne said.

“I will, Your Majesty. I promise.” Her second son answered.

Anne called George back and said. “You and George must both work together to help your oldest brother. James will need his siblings by his side. Your sisters are gone now, they are married to foreign powers, but you both are here. The three of you together can accomplish amazing things. Make sure you do not forget that.”

“We won’t, Your Majesty.” William and George answered in unison.

“Where is James?” Anne called out.

“I’m here.” Her eldest son said. She felt him take her hand in his, it was rough and weathered.

“You are our heir, you are the future, and we are the past. When we die, you shall become King of Britannia. Make sure to protect her, and devout your time to her. She is a fickle beast, James. She will bite you and try to maul you, but if you win her over, she will love you and fight for you, forevermore. Do not rely too much on Parliament, for they are filled with foolish vipers who are all after their own power. Rely on your brothers and your wife, she is a smart woman, and she will do wonders for the court. And always remember to keep the French at a distance. One moment they will be your friends and the next they will be planning an invasion.” Anne said. She knew her son had ruled since George had died, her grief had consumed her. But she still had some advice for him, she was his mother after all. “And remember, the Dutch might not be our natural allies, but they will do for now. Always enrich the Kingdom with alliances, never burden it with false friends.”

“Yes Your Majesty.” Her son answered.

She was beginning to feel tired now, still she continued. “Always remember that the Kingdom comes first. We are merely its servants for this time allotted to us on God’s earth. Never take that for granted. Never think that you are secure upon the throne, but never think you are always in danger. You must strike a fine balance.” She heard her son snort, and she smiled. “It is indeed quite the precarious balancing act that one must do with a crown upon one’s head. God would not have it any other way. A sovereign cannot rest easy. Know that, and you will succeed.”

“I know that, Your Majesty.” James replied. His voice heavy.

“Now bring us, our grandchildren.” She commanded.

A door opened and she heard sombre voices telling children what to do. “Ahhh, the future. You shall all know when the time comes what your role shall be, but know that England loves you dearly.” She kissed them all on their heads and they withdrew after that. “James, take our hand.” Her son took it and her other sons stood around. “I shall tell your father hello, from you all. Know that I love you, and always have. God’s blessings upon you.” Anne closed her eyes and whispered. “I am coming, my love. I am coming.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 166: Orford



November, 1714
​

For his entire naval career, Edward had served the crown with grace and dignity. He might not have always agreed with the monarch who was his master, but he had done his duty. But following the death of the Duke of Cumberland, and Queen Anne’s retirement into exclusion, her son the Prince of Wales had taken over and had begun making changes to everything. He had not agreed with that. He favoured a small army and a navy that would serve to defend merchant convoys nothing more, nothing less. But that was not the Prince’s desire. He had kept his job when the Queen was around, but now he was not sure he would.

The Prince of Wales had become King, and the recent general election had seen the Tories win a majority in the Commons. Edward knew where his own sympathies lay and he knew his time was running out. That was why when summoned to Hampton Court, where the King was in residence, he knew something would happen. A belief further amplified when he saw the Lord High Admiral there. Edward remained seated and silent waiting for either man to speak.

It was the King who broke the silence. “Lord Orford, we thank you for coming today. We understand that you are a busy man but that there are some things in the programme of reforms that you have found objectionable. We would hear those objections now.”

Edward hesitated, it was one thing to question the Prince of Wales, completely another to question the King. He took a breath and then began. “Sire, whilst I understand that the Dutch provided a scare a few months ago, I do not think that justifies needing an expansion of the Royal Navy on the scale Your Majesty is suggesting. Such an expansion would be costly, and would require us to purchase naval bases in countries where the Britannic flag does not fly. Something which I know will not sit well with Parliament.” He took a breath glanced once at the Lord High Admiral and continued. “For centuries Britannia has had a small fleet, to ensure that things do not go wrong when the merchant ships return from the New World. We now dominate the Channel, the French do not have the capacity or the will power to challenge us for now. I think that expansion would overstretch us and leave us wanting.”

There was a brief silence then the King replied. “We understand your concerns, Lord Orford. However, we disagree with you.” A pause, then the King continued. “The days where we could simply rely on good sense and an understanding with the Dutch are long gone. They want to regain their position as the premier naval power in Europe, and the French are already rebuilding their fleet. We might control the channel now, but if we do not adapt and expand we will not control it forever. We do not wish for a repeat of the disasters of the past. We are a naval nation and thus must have a navy to reflect that.”

“And what of the cost of such a thing, Sire?” Edward asked, knowing he was perhaps pushing where he shouldn’t. “Expansion at the levels you are suggesting would cost hundreds of thousands of pounds. I do not know whether Parliament would be willing to fund such a thing.”

The King said nothing, instead it was the Lord High Admiral who spoke. “Parliament is already looking into the matter of funding. You need not fear on that account, Lord Orford. There will be funding for the expansion, and it will not be immediately all at once. Instead, it will be in gradual stages.”

Orford looked at the Lord High Admiral, remembering the reports he had read about French and Dutch naval expansion. “Which is contrast to what the French and Dutch are doing, Your Grace. Both are expanding rapidly, in manners that make me think they are preparing for war. Therefore, either you are hiding the truth from me or you are being naïve.”

“I am doing nothing of the sort, Sir.” Grafton said. Orford noticed with some happiness that the man looked quite tense then. “I am merely stating the facts. The expansion the King proposes will take many years, but we will expand in the right amount to meet the challenge of the French and Dutch expansion.”

“How?” Edward demanded. “How can you promise that when Parliament has yet to decide on the funding?”

The King spoke then. “The guarantees are there. We have already begun construction on the new ships for the fleet. Now, what we wish to ask you, Lord Orford is are you willing to commit in your role as First Naval Lord, to the expansion?”

Edward thought on this, he knew that he had quite a lot of power in his current power, but something about this just didn’t feel right to him. “I am sorry, Sire. But this does not sit well with me. It seems as though Your Majesty is throwing away money that could be spent elsewhere. I can never support the expansion of the Royal Navy as anything other than a defensive fleet.”

The King sighed. “Very well, then we are going to have to ask you to resign, we cannot have someone in such a prominent position in the navy if they do not support its goals.”

“Yes Sire.” Edward said, he produced the piece of paper that had first granted him the position of First Naval Lord twenty years ago-he had felt something like this might be coming- and placed it on the table before the King. “I shall write a list of recommendations for my replacement. Thank you for this honour, Sire.” With that he rose, bowed, straightened and then walked out.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 167: Karl of Poland



January, 1715​

When he had accepted the crown of Poland, Karl had not thought that there would be such a burden on his person. Poland had not been at its powerful height for years. He had expected a chance to wear a crown, do a few things and mainly just enjoy the benefits of his position. And yet, now, here he was, having to wrangle through a war and a nobility who were distrustful of him from the off. He could feel his body beginning to break, but he knew not what precisely to do about it. So, he kept on going, even when perhaps common sense said he should stop.

“Gentlemen, this war we are fighting is a disaster. The Swedes have taken Pomerania from the Prussians and we have done nothing but sit on our arses after they fought to save us from complete defeat.” Karl said. He still remembered the disaster that had been the Prussian campaign, caught fleeing with their pants by their legs. “We must find a way to end this fighting once and for all.”

Jan Saphiea, one of the few people Karl trusted spoke then. “Sire, I would recommend we appeal to the Swedes now. King Charles will no doubt feel sated. He has protected the interests of his nation and has shown that he can do as his father did. Prussia will surely be chastised as well, and they must surely be facing economic ruin with the cost of this war. My only concern is how do we convince Russia to settle down.”

“What do the Russians want?” Karl demanded. “Or rather, what does that blundering oaf, Peter want?” Karl had met Peter of Russia once, he was a blundering maniacal mad man and he had defeated the Polish army and the Swedish army numerous times, but never when King Charles had been commanding.

“Livonia, Sire.” Jan said. “That has always been their intention. Though with Sweden having finally defeated the Prussians, I think we might have a chance at turning our fortunes around.”

Atanazy Miączyński, the crown treasurer spoke then. “Sire, I have to disagree with the Hetman. We do not have the funding to keep waging these wars. Not only that, the Sejm is beginning to question the sense of this. King Charles has gotten what he wants in Pomerania, and I do not think he would really want to get involved in a proper war. Not when Great Britannia and the Dutch are knocking at his door demanding he stops.”

Karl grimaced, the Britannic ambassador had been to see him a day ago. A most strange fellow, this Thomas Pelham, he spoke in vague terms, but the meaning was clear. Should the Swedish blockade of Prussian grain exports continue, Britannia would have no choice but to declare war. Karl did not want a longer war. They had already been fighting for some time. “So, what do you suggest?”

“That we negotiate a peace. We must be the ones to put it forward. Speak with the Britannic ambassador and with the Dutch ambassador, and see if you can find common ground, Sire.” The treasurer said.

Karl often found himself bristling at being spoken to like that, but knew he had no other choice. “Very well, we shall consider it.”

The Hetman looked as if he wanted to say something, but wisely he decided to keep silent. And now, the treasurer turned to another matter. “Have you considered the marriage choices for your children, Sire?”

Karl wanted to growl, but instead he said simply. “We have decided on Maria Karolina Sobieska, for our son and heir. It is time to bring that family in from the cold.” He knew that in the future the Sobieska family would be important in settling the election matter, especially if he wanted to make his dynasty long lasting.

“A wise choice, Sire, and one that will come with a large dowry also.” The treasurer said, no doubt dreaming of the bonus he would get.

The Hetman spoke then. “Would Your Majesty, not consider Maria Zofia Siniawska for the Prince? She brings with her lands to add to the Royal Land collection and vast wealth also.”

Karl looked at the man and said. “We had considered her, but decided that it is better to bring influence for the long term than a short term probe with a family lacking the same level of power.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 168: A New Reign



April, 1715
​

The coronation had come and gone, and James was now beginning to feel the true weight of the crown. Before he had still somewhat felt as though he were Prince of Wales, and had sometimes acted as such. He’d had to remind himself of the changes that being King required. He could no longer be quite so open with his children in public, something that pained him, and something he had had to explain to George when his son had asked him with tears in his eyes, if he had done something wrong. Still, now he had a proper control over the government and the legislation that might shape the realm, he was determined to do good.

He started with the most recent news from Parliament. “We are most surprised that the Toleration Bill was introduced once more. We had thought that such matters had been put to rest during our predecessor’s reign.” Truthfully, he had thought the issue might come up again, but he had not thought it would come so soon.

James Stanhope, who he had served with during the previous war, and his representative in the Commons spoke then. “Sire, I admit I should have seen this coming, but it is a matter that many on the Opposition benches consider prudent to discuss. As it brings them more votes from the dissenting populations and it plays well with them.”

James had to laugh. “Do they not realise that they were the ones who introduced the very acts that prevented these dissenters from sitting in government or positions of power or even voting to begin with?” That was something he had always found odd, the politician’s desire to exclude those who in five years time they would soon need.

Stanhope seemed to acknowledge this for he said. “This is true, Sire, but they are still looking for a means toward achieving more dominance. And they are likely to introduce the bill again.”

“Who is the man who introduced the bill this time?” James asked.

“Paul Meuthen, he was elected during the Parliament a few years ago, Sire. He is a Whig, but he is someone who feels he could strengthen his hold over his constituency if the Toleration Act was passed.” Stanhope said.

“How many of his potential constituents are non-conformers?” James asked.

Stanhope did not appear to have the answer, instead it was Henry St John, Viscount Bolingbroke who spoke. “Some ten thousand, Sire. If they were given the vote they would strengthen his majority against his most recent opponent who was a High Tory.”

James thought for a moment and then said. “We will not allow the Toleration Act to pass unless those who introduce it are willing to accept that they are opening the door for Catholics to also vote. Therefore, we shall offer him something else. The question is what.”

Robert Walpole who he had named as Chancellor of the Exchequer spoke then. “Sire, I have a suggestion, if I may?”

“GO ahead.” James said, his wife liked Walpole and so far the man had given him no reason to doubt him, should Stanhope prove unable to control the Commons, James might give that position to Walpole.

“I know Meuthen, he is an ambitious man, he wants to have some role to play at court, or for Your Majesty’s government. He does not much care about ideology, if he can get something that will promote him and his family, he will be content.” Walpole said. “Therefore, I would recommend giving him the position of Ambassador to Portugal.”

“You would have a Whig sent to represent His Majesty at the court of our oldest ally?” Henry St John exclaimed.

“I would provide His Majesty with a chance of showing Sir Meuthen that he is a valued member of the court. His father was an ambassador to Portugal during the reign of Her Majesty Queen Anne, after all and had a good relationship with King Pedro.” Walpole said.

“Walpole is right, Your Majesty.” The Duke of Marlborough said. “Meuthen’s father was one of the reasons why King Pedro took so well to the marriage proposal.”

James thought on this and then said. “Very well, Walpole you shall speak with Meuthen, tell him we wish to meet with him. We shall offer him this position as long as he never introduces the Toleration Act again.”

“I shall do that tomorrow when Parliament meets again, Sire.” Walpole said.

“Good,” James said. “Now, there is another matter we wished to discuss.” He cleared his throat and then continued. “What is the status of the peace agreement between Sweden and Prussia?”

Here Stanhope spoke confidently. “The Swedes have agreed to concede Ingria to Russia in return for Prussia acknowledging their maintaining of Pomerania. The Prussians are willing to give that territory in return for the lifting of the embargo on their ports. The Russians have also said they wish to be given access to ports in Livonia in return for preventing further escalation. The Swedes have been convinced to agree.”

“Good. When will this treaty be ratified?” James asked. His sister had asked him to get involved and so he had, using the force of the Royal Navy to make a point. It was good to see that even as far afield as Sweden and Russia the navy was taken seriously.

“It will be ratified very soon, Sire. I believe within the next week or so.” Stanhope said.

“Good.” James said. He looked at his ministers and said. “Now if there is nothing else, we believe there is a play about to begin. We expect you all to be there.”

He rose, and his ministers rose, this play was supposed to be a good one, written by some man named James Orwell, from Somerset. George had written of how well it had been received by the nobles there, and well, he was intrigued.

 

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Chapter 169: An Austrian Archduke In Brussels



July, 1715
​

Sometimes Charles wondered how he had struck this sort of fortune. A good looking wife, a son who promised many things and dutiful daughters. Then he remembered, he had been born a Habsburg, into the oldest and greatest of dynasties to rule the Holy Roman Empire, and one that had not controlled what had once been the Spanish Netherlands for three centuries now. Following the ending of the war with France and the signing of various treaties and the birth of their son, Charles had written to his brother the Emperor and with his agreement proclaimed himself Archduke of Flanders, recognising the ancient status of many of the lands around him. Spain, Britannia, the Empire, the Papacy all had recognised that title, only France had not and they were beginning to come around.

Charles looked at his ministers and said simply. “We have spent the past few days looking over these documents from Versailles with great interest. We find that the French King has more sense than his predecessor. We would like to hear our council’s thoughts on the matter.”

There was a brief silence and then his wife Margaret who attended all council meetings spoke. “We think that it is a sensible suggestion and would fall in line with our interests. The French cut the tariffs on the goods we trade with them, and we get financial aid to build the roadworks and sewage systems we need.”

Von Daunn his chief advisor spoke then. “Your Royal Highness, I think that whilst the suggestion is a good one and certainly could benefit us, I find myself hesitant to give my full investment in support.”

“Why?” Charles asked. He liked Von Daunn and considered him to be one of the few people in the Archduchy who actually would straight talk.

Von Daunn took a moment and then said. “Your Royal Highness, the French are known to spin things one way or another. Furthermore, it is within their tactical ambitions to take control over this Archduchy. They want it and see it as part of their natural borders. King Louis might not be his grandsire, but he is still an ambitious man, his scheming in Tuscany shows this.” Charles grimaced, he’d heard about the Tuscan business that had been worrying. “Personally, I think he is looking to soften Your Royal Highness up with this offer, and then when the next war comes or you do something wrong, he will pounce.”

Charles looked at Von Daunn and asked. “You think he will try and sow disinformation about this treaty?”

“Without a doubt, Your Royal Highness.” Von Daunn replied.

“Then what would you suggest?” Charles asked.

Charles saw Von Daunn share a look with the Archbishop and wondered at it, but thankfully Von Daunn spoke before he could ask a question on that. “Your Royal Highness, I would look toward Britannia and her trading deals. She is not looking for anything other than free trade between our two states. Great Britannia has always been a firm defender; I can guarantee you that if we go with her she will not demand anything from us other than a commitment to free trade.”

The Archbishop spoke then. “Von Daunn is right, Your Royal Highness. Britannia makes up some fifty percent of our trade, whilst France only twenty percent. We would be foolish not to ally with them.”

“Especially with their emerging naval power.” Margaret said.

Charles thought on this for a moment and then said. “We ally with Britannia we are getting frictionless trade with a nation we already trade with but pay tariffs with. We trade with France we get free trade but also funding for the reforms we need.” There was a pause and then it dropped. “But then we would also be indebted to the French, not in the terms of rebellion, but in terms of allowing troops through our doors. And that is something we cannot allow.”

He looked at Von Daunn and said. “Send word to the British Ambassador, and tell him we would like to meet as early as possible.”

“Yes Your Royal Highness.” Von Daunn said. The man wrote a note and gave it to a page who hurried off.

Margaret spoke then. “There is another matter, for discussion.”

“What?” Charles asked, now the trade business was done, he wished to spend time looking over military plans.

“The subject of marriage for our daughter, Maria Theresa.” Margaret said.

Charles wanted to sigh instead he said. “She is but eight, she is young yet.”

“We were not much older than her when we were betrothed to one another.” Margaret said.

His wife had a point and so reluctantly he said. “Very well, what about her betrothal? Who are you considering?”

His wife and the Count exchanged looks and his wife then said. “George, Prince of Wales.”

“Is he not betrothed to the King of France’s daughter?” Charles asked.

“He is, though that can easily be broken. Our sources say that there is not much support for the marriage amongst the King of Great Britannia’s subjects or his court, and indeed even his wife. They would be far more amenable to a marriage to our daughter, given the ties between our two families and the trading relationship.” Margaret said.

“Would she have to convert?” Charles asked.

“No, she would be allowed to keep her own faith as long as the children are raised as Anglican.” Margaret answered.

Charles looked at the Archbishop who said. “It is true, Your Royal Highness. I can get clarity from His Holiness if it would ease your soul.”

Charles thought on this for a moment, the chance to get his daughter as a Queen and snub the French? Oh, now that would be something. “See to it.” he told the Archbishop. To his wife he said. “We shall consider this.”

 

[VVD0D95]

The Standard​

​

Religious Toleration Act tabled in Parliament

It has come to this newspaper’s attention that The Religious Toleration Act has been tabled in the House of Commons once more. Three MPs have decided to table the Act. Their names are Thomas Pelham, Spencer Compton and James Cavendish. When asked why they had done so, Spencer Compton replied. “Because all good Protestant Men should have the right to vote and hold office.” It is not known how the King will respond.


King confirms His Royal Highness as Secretary of State for Scotland

In a decision that has surprised nobody of sense, His Majesty has confirmed his brother His Royal Highness, the Duke of York and Albany as Secretary of State for Scotland. His Royal Highness was responsible for bringing the Western regions of Scotland into the Episcopalian faith and ending decades of strife.


King Gives Royal License to Orwell

In an interesting move, His Majesty has given a Royal License to Lewis Orwell, a writer based in Birmingham, who now lives in Whitehall, London. Orwell’s play ‘Times Of Change’ is known to be a favourite of Her Majesty The Queen’s. This newspaper will be sure to review his future works.

'Finally, a unbiased newspaper in London. We have waited a long time for this.' Marquess of Normanby, Lord Chamberlain.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 170: The Queen’s Gathering



October, 1715​

Caroline felt the babe kick. She smiled at the motion and then turned her attention back to the documents before her. James was away touring the realm, looking at some invention or the other, and given the time of her pregnancy she could not accompany him, but George and Anne had gone to accompany him, which pleased her. Her two eldest children were both very smart, and would no doubt learn a lot from seeing their father hold court.

Caroline read through the Standard, that paper that claimed neutrality, but often leaned one way or another depending on the mood of its owner the Duke of Buckingham and Normanby. “You know, we cannot understand why these MPs have introduced this Toleration bill again. Surely they realise that it has no chance of passing?”

“Majesty, I think they have introduced it again simply to keep trying. I think they want to wear down the King.” Diana, Duchess of Berwick and Countess of Oxford in her own right said.

“Why? What purpose does it serve?” Caroline mused. “We can understand Pelham doing that, for he lacks sense and has more fervour, but Compton and Cavendish? Surely they know better.”

The Duchess of Somerset spoke then. “I think perhaps they want to send a message, as the Duchess of Berwick says.”

Caroline mused on that and then said. “You think they want some sort of position at court, like His Majesty gave Meuthen?” She disliked Meuthen, found him to be highly objectionable and disgusting in morals.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Somerset said. “I think they want some sort of influence over the gossip of court. Right now, it is very much influenced by Tories, unless you count Mrs Stanhope and Mrs Walpole.”

Caroline thought on that for a moment and then said. “Perhaps they would be amenable to some marriages then. We do not think our husband would ever think of inviting them to take positions within the household.” Indeed, she knew her husband would never consent to that, he’d rather cut his own eye out.

Anne Berkeley, Countess of Berkeley whose husband was as First Naval Lord and whose Father was Lord High Admiral spoke then. “I think you are on the right view, Your Majesty. There are several members of the extended royal family who could be used for marriages to bring the Whigs into line.”

“Indeed, the Countess is right.” The Duchess of Berwick said. “My own son James is of an age to be of use for this, Your Majesty.”

Caroline considered this and then said. “Cavendish’s niece is of an age with your son is he not Duchess?”

“He is, Majesty.” The Duchess replied.

“And the Duke of Albany’s daughter is similar in age to the Duke of Argyll’s son.” Caroline said remembering something James had said to her a few days ago.

“She is, Majesty.” The Duchess said.

Caroline smiled. “Then we have two of our candidates secured.”

The Duchess smiled. “Indeed, we do, Your Majesty. I will be sure to get things sorted with my lord husband.”

Caroline nodded. “Perhaps with two of their own members married within the family they will feel somewhat better. And of course, we might need to bring a proper and open discussion about our son’s marriage.” She knew her husband was set on the French marriage, but Caroline felt that was not appropriate. The girl would be too Catholic and too dangerous for her husband and her son. She remembered hearing about the stories of her husband’s great-grandfather’s troubles with his wife.

“Perhaps that is something best sorted with His Majesty when he returns, Majesty?” The Duchess of Somerset asked.

Caroline nodded. “Of course. Better to focus on what we can control now.”

“I shall get onto it the moment I can, Your Majesty.” Diana said.

Caroline nodded, and turned back to reading through other papers. She knew her husband was considering replacements for the Duke of Marlborough as Commander in Chief of the Forces. Marlborough had expressed his own desire to perhaps retire for a little while. James had spoken with the Marquess of Blandford about it as well, and Caroline knew they both were considering the Duke of Berwick as replacement, Ormonde being too Irish for such a thing.

 

[Valena]

Valena's Peerage Table v. 4.4.
The Royal bastard lines:
From James II:
Dukes of Berwick
James FitzJames-DeVere (after his marriage in 1693), Duke of Berwick, Earl of Tinmouth and Baron Bosworth (b.1670). Married Lady Diana de Vere (b.1679) in 1693 (TTL the quarrel over the Colonel of The Blues position never takes place and James is in good enough standing to marry the daughter of the Earl), upon which he took double surname.
His wife, Lady Diana, was created suo jure Countess of Oxford, Viscountess Bolebec and Baroness Vere of Castle Headingham in Peerage of Great Brittania. The agreement was to keep Berwick and Oxford titles separate, with John de Vere, second son of Diana and James, named heir apparent to Oxford title of his mother (with remainder to the line of James de Vere).
Issue:

1. James de Vere, Earl of Tinmouth (b.1696). Married to Lady Rachel Cavendish (b.1699) in 1716
   
2. Diana de Vere (b.1697). Married in 1716 to Thomas Pelham-Holles, Earl of Clare.
   
3. John de Vere (b.1699). Styled Viscount Bolebec since 1704 as the heir apparent of his mother. Married Lucy Werden in 1722. From them, the future Earls of Oxford of 2nd de Vere creation descend.
   
4. Aubrey de Vere (b.1700)
5. Anne de Vere (b.1701) m. William Felding, 4th Earl of Denbigh, in 1718
   
6. Henriette de Vere (b.1703) m James, Lord Churchill in 1727
   
7. Charles de Vere (b.1704)
8. Mary de Vere (b.1707) m. Henry Herbert, 9th Earl of Pembroke, in 1726
   
9. William de Vere (b.1709)
10. Henry de Vere (b.1711)

Earls of Sussex, 2nd creation
Henry FitzJames (Henry Lennard since 1700). Married in 1700 to Lady Barbara Lennard.
Created Earl of Sussex and Baron Herstmonceux of East Sussex in 1703, upon death of his father-in-law
Issue:

1. James Lennard (b.1704), Lord Herstmonceux m. Hon. Mary FitzWilliam in 1730

From Charles II
Dukes of St. Albans
Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke (b.1670). Married in 1691 Ruperta Hughes (b.1671), natural daughter of Prince Rupert of the Rhine. Issue

1. Charles Beauclerk, Earl of Burford (b. 1692). Married in 1713 to his second cousin, Frederica Susanna Schomberg (and thus his issue descends from James I in three different ways, and from the Winter Queen in two different ways)
   1. Robert Beauclerk, Lord Heddington (b.1713)
   2. Lady Caroline Beauclerk (b.1715)
2. Sophia Ruperta Beauclerk (b.1695). Married in 1715 to Robert Darcy, 3rd Earl of Holderness
3. Lord Robert Beauclerk (b. 1698)
   
4. Lord William Beauclerk (b.1699)
5. Lord George Beauclerk (b.1701)
6. Mary Beauclerk (b.1705) Married in 1725 Wriothesley Russel, 3rd Duke of Bedford

Dukes of Grafton
Henry FitzRoy, Duke of Grafton (b.1663). Married in 1672 Lady Isabella Bennet, Countess of Arlington (b.1668).
Issue:
(OTL) Charles Fitzroy, Earl of Euston (b.1683). Married to Lady Henriette Somerset in 1713.
(ATL) Anne Fitzroy (b.1691), married to James Berkeley, 3rd Earl of Berkeley, in 1711 (Note: instead of her cousin; marriage inspired by greater business contact between Grafton and Berkeley, vice-admiral of Britain, than between Grafton and Lennox)
Isabella Fitzroy (b.1695), married to Edward Harley, Lord Harley (later 2nd Earl Mortimer) (b.1689) in 1713

Dukes of Northumberland
George FitzRoy, Duke of Northumberland (b.1665). Married first in 1686 Catherine Wheatly (d. 1712), no issue. Married secondly in 1713 to Hon. Mary Worsley, heiress to Wentworth Barony.
Issue:
Charles Fitzroy, Viscount Falmouth (b.1714). Later changed his surname to Percy upon marriage to Elizabeth Percy (b.1716), co-heiress of Algernon Seymour, 7th Duke of Somerset

Earls of Sussex (1st creation; female line)
Thomas Lennard, 1st Earl of Sussex (1654-1702 (ATL death due to cricket match trauma)); married in 1674 to Anne Palmer, natural daughrt of Charles II
Issue:

• Barbara Lennard (b.1676), married in 1700 to Henry Fitzjames, natural son of James II (see above Earls of Sussex 2nd creation)
• Anne Lennard (b.1684), married in 1705 to her second cousin, Richard Barrett-Lennard, Esq., created 1st Baronet Barrett-Lennard in 1705

Other peers
Dukes of Marlborough
(ATL) John Churchill, Marquess of Blandford (b.1686) married in 1703 Lady Elizabeth Butler (b.1688), daughter of 2nd Duke of Ormonde.
Issue:
James, Lord Churchill (b.1705) m. Lady Henriette de Vere in 1727
Lady Sarah Churchill (b.1708)
Lady Anne Churchill (b.1709)
Lady Caroline Churchill (b.1711)
Lady Elizabeth Churchill (b.1713)
For the rest see OTL

Dukes of Albemarle
(creation of John Granville, 1st Earl of Bath, as Duke of Albemarle with subsidiary titles of Marquess of Fitzhammon and Viscount Bevel in 1690)
Charles Granville, Marquess of Fitzhammon and later 2nd Duke of Albemarle since 1701. Married in 1690 (as his 2nd wife) Hon. Frances Thynne, daughter of 1st Viscount Weymoth and cousin of Duchess of Somerset by her 2nd marriage.
Issue:
Lady Frances Granville (b.1693). Married Evelyn Pierrepont, 1st Duke of Kingston-upon-Hull, in 1714
John Granville, Marquess of Fitzhammon (b.1695). Married Lady Anne Lennox (b.1703) in December 1722

Frances, Duchess of Albemarle, served as one of the Ladies of Bedchamber to Princess of Wales since 1707.

Dukes of Argyll
John Campbell, 2nd Duke of Argyll, married first to Mary Brown (d.1714). Married secondly in 1715 to Jane Warburton, maid of honor to the late Queen Anne.
Issue:
(ATL) Archibald Campbell, Marquess of Lorne (b.1715). Betrothed to Lady Anne of York (b.1715)
(OTL) Lady Caroline Campbell (b.1717)
Lady Elisabeth Campbell (b.1718)


Earls of Clarendon
Edward Hyde, Viscount Cornbury and 9th Baron Clifton (b.1691) (in OTL died in February 1713 of fever; TTL this first cousin once removed of Queen Anne survives). Married in 1713 Lady Louise Lennox (b.1694)
Issue:
Hon. James Hyde (Viscount Cornbury since 1723) b.1714
Lady Anne Hyde b.1717
Hon. Edward Hyde b.1718


Earls of Essex
Algernon Capell, 2nd Earl of Essex (b.1670). Married Lady Henrietta Butler, the youngest sister of 2nd Duke of Ormonde, in 1697 [The reason for this ATL marriage is that both OTL spouses of the Earl and Countess are unlikely to be in England TTL, having arrived in the retinue of William III OTL].
Issue:

1. Thomas Capel (b.1697), Viscount Malden. Married Lady Jane Hyde in 1718.
   
2. Algernon Capel (b.1700)
3. Lady Elisabeth Capel (b.1702). Married Alan Brodrick, 2nd Viscount Middleton
   
4. Lady Henrietta Capel (b.1712)

Barons Wentworth
Martha Lovelace, 8th Baroness Wentworth (b.1667). Married in December 1690 to Sir Robert Worsley, 4th Baronet (b.1669)
Issue:
Mary Worsley, later suo jure 9th Baroness Wentworth and 13th Baroness Despenser (b.1693). Married in 1713 to George Fitzroy, Duke of Northumberland, as his second wife
_____________________________________
The table is edited accordingly.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 171: Funerals and Palaces



January, 1716​

His aunt was dead and buried. The funeral had happened two days ago, and then they’d gotten on with business. Alexei did not know quite how to feel about this. His aunt had been like a Mother to him throughout everything, and she had helped him handle his father’s mercurial temper and odd behaviour. And now she was gone. It felt strange and there was a hole there in his heart, he knew. But he could not grieve for her, not properly.

He blinked, cleared his mind and then looked at the drawings before him. “Are you sure you want the palace to look like this?” He asked his wife, she had come on leaps and bounds in her speaking of Russian from when they had first married, he supposed having his father hovering over her as she had learned had helped.

“I am sure. It looks far prettier this way than the way the old architect wanted it done.” Henriette Marie said.

“And these little twists and turns? What are they for?” Alexei asked pointing to the relevant bits on the paper.

“They are to add to the shape and feel of the place. We can’t just have some random tall tower there and not add some twists and turns.” His wife responded.

Alexei snorted. “It looks a little ridiculous, I must say. Having all of these things here. Are they really going to add to the look of the palace?” He had his doubts. Truth be told he was a bit concerned the thing wouldn’t even survive in Moscow, especially in the winters.

As if to prove his point his wife shivered a little before she moved closer to him. “I think it looks very pretty. And furthermore, it will make the palace look grander than the wreck it looks now.”

Alexei snorted. “You really are quite insistent on this aren’t you?”

“I am.” His wife replied kissing his cheek. They were both silent for a moment just looking at the drawing, then his wife asked. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Tired. The Tsar has some ridiculous thing he wishes to announce tonight at the feast.” Alexei said.

“How do you know it is ridiculous?” His wife asked. Despite how his father had acted toward her initially, the two of them got along quite well.

“Because it is my father. He never does anything normal.” Alexei said simply.

“Well, perhaps we should get ready for it then.” Henrietta said.

“Indeed.” Alexei said he rolled up the paper and was about to put it away, when the doors opened and his father strode in. Alexei bowed and his wife curtseyed.

“Ah, Alexei good, you are here. Now we can make this announcement.” The Tsar said.

It was then that Alexei noticed that his father’s advisors had followed him into the room. Alexei stood there for a moment halfway tempted to stand between his wife and father and halfway tempted to stand behind her. “Sire?” He asked instead.

“We have decided this announcement we were to make at dinner tonight can be made now since you are in residence here.” The Tsar said.

“Okay….” Alexei said uncertainly.

“Firstly, we have decided that your cousin and our niece Ekaterina shall marry Dmitry Cantemir, Prince of Moldavia.” The Tsar said.

Alexei said nothing, that was a sensible marriage and would give them a foothold in the south. “And furthermore, we have decided that we shall marry Cantemir’s daughter.”

Now that surprised Alexei. The girl had been his father’s mistress for a time, she was a pleasant girl if somewhat slow. But she was young, and well fertile it seemed. He felt his wife nudge him and so he said. “A wise and most gracious marriage proposal, Sire.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 172: Swedish Dilemmas



April, 1716​

Charles stretched. The hour was late, but increasingly he found that the only way he could get to work was late at night with his wife at his side. He did not trust his advisors, considered them too enthralled to his sister and her husband, that idiot Hesse Kassel. And so here he was. He cleared his throat. “I do not think that my advisors would be too happy with this proposed treaty that your brother is proposing, my dear.” He had tasked the ambassador in London to propose a free trade agreement with the King, in return for Sweden turning a blind eye to British movements in the area.

“Why? What has he proposed?” Mary asked.

“That we enter into a proper alliance with Denmark, not just a defensive one. And that we agree to meet in London for a conference to discuss lingering issues.” Charles said.

Mary laughed. “Bold of him.” there was a moment’s pause and then his wife asked. “What are you going to respond with?

Charles sighed. “I cannot in good conscience agree to this. Well not if I want to keep my advisors on side. They are already torn over how things progressed due to the war with the Prussians.” He remembered the lecture one of the members who belonged to the Hats had tried to give him. The man had lost his tongue but Charles feared his message echoed amongst some of the others.

“You took Pomerania from the Prussians, linking the two areas together. And whilst Ingria might have been lost, and the Russians having to take access to ports elsewhere, I do not think that is reason to throw away a possible peace agreement with Denmark that is more than just a defensive one.” Mary replied.

Charles looked at his wife and asked. “What are you thinking?”

“My brother has many daughters and two sons, I think that perhaps we could propose a marriage between his daughter Anne and our son Charles. A good way to tie things in together. We could then suggest that Denmark’s daughter marry his heir.” Mary said.

Charles thought on it for a moment and then said. “A possible solution to a long-standing problem. It could well work.” He did not want another Danish Princess in Sweden, the last time had gone on for too long and though he cared for his mother, he had always thought she had overstepped too much before.

“Yes, though you would need to be forceful with the council. You could not have them proposing something else.” Mary said. “Unless you wish for our son to be wed to a Danish Princess?”

Charles shuddered at the thought. “No, never. I will put my foot down to ensure this happens.” Now that he had time to think it over, he found that he quite liked the idea of a three-way marriage going. “You will write to your brother?” He knew his wife got on quite well with her younger brother and suspected that the man might be more amenable to the suggestion if it came first form his sister.

“Yes, I can do.” Mary said.

“Good.” Charles said. Then another thought came to him. “It might be needed should another war emerge.”

His wife looked at him and asked. “You don’t think the Prussians are in a state to wage another war do you?”

“Maybe not now, but in a few years? Definitely. And the Russians are only getting stronger. They’ve already entered an alliance with the Holy Roman Emperor to focus on destroying the Ottomans. Once they are bloodied and learned from that they will look this way.” Charles replied.

“So, it makes sense to seek an alliance with Britannia now. To ensure that her fleet is ready to aid us should something go awry.” Mary surmised.

“Exactly.” Charles said simply.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 173: Berwick’s Questioning

July, 1716
​

James cleared his throat and looked at the men sat opposite him. They were gathered in a room in the Palace of Westminster, and the sun was beating in through the windows. It was damnably hot, but James did not bother showing any discomfort, he was an army man and he knew that doing so would give them what they wanted. The men before him had summoned him-he still found that quite funny- to a Parliamentary hearing over his appointment as Commander in Chief of the Forces. The King had gone into a rage when the missive had come. Indeed, James remembered the King saying something along the lines of. “I should have each and every one of them done for treason.” Indeed, it was quite odd that this committee had been called by James agreed with the Queen. It was necessary given he had once been a Catholic.

The chair of the Committee was the Earl of Devonshire the leading Whig in Parliament. “We are gathered here today to hear testimony from the Commander in Chief of the Forces, His Grace the Duke of Berwick, following his appointment after the resignation of His Grace the Duke of Marlborough.”

His uncle had had to resign after a stroke he’d had at court three weeks ago. It had come as quite the blow, but time was changing. James was simply glad he had been given the role and not Ormonde, the man was smart but he was not what the King would need for his vision. “Thank you, my lords.” James said simply.

Devonshire nodded and then said. “Your Grace, we are going to ask you several questions now, and we hope that you will answer them to the best of your ability. Where interests of national security conflict with the questions you are of course allowed to ignore the question. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” James replied simply.

The Earl nodded. “Very well, I believe I shall start.” There was a brief pause and then the man continued. “You have been appointed as Commander in Chief of the Forces and promoted to full general following the retirement of His Grace the Duke of Marlborough. Before his retirement, the Duke was working on plans to reform the army, do you believe these reforms are necessary and essential to the good workings of the Britannic military?”

James did not answer immediately, instead he did as his wife had suggested and took a moment to think through his answer. The reforms his uncle and the King had been discussing before his uncle’s retirement had been quite controversial, but he had also been invited to sit in on their discussions and he knew they were needed. “I believe that with the way things are changing on the continent, and with the shifting of alliances, and the way the last great war was fought, the reforms are essential to the good working of the military.”

“How so?” the Earl of Devonshire asked.

James cleared his throat. “The reforms involved will ensure that our cavalry units are able to ride without some of the previously cumbersome equipment they had been saddled with. Thus, ensuring that they can better mobilise their weapons on the offensive campaigns that I believe will become the future of warfare on the continent. Furthermore, the improvement in handguns and the subsequent changes to lock and loads, will ensure that our infantry regiments are now no longer simply there for slaughter.” James paused he remembered the disasters of the Eight Years War campaign and shuddered slightly, before continuing. “This will be essential to ensuring a proper balance on campaign. We know possible frontiers for war will be the Archduchy of Flanders, the Italian peninsula, and Spain, we need to be prepared for such movements.”

The Earl went to speak, and then the Duke of St Albans, a cousin, spoke. “General, you said that these reforms are necessary due to the future of the campaigns that will be fought. However, on that note, the King has recently concluded a non-aggression pact with both Spain and France, how, then can there be war with either of those two countries, or indeed in the Archduchy of Flanders, when to have war would be to break the pact?”

James thought about the question, he knew what the Duke was trying to do. The man had wanted his wife, and had been angry when his wife had chosen him instead, and as such had never been his greatest friend. He was no doubt trying to trip him up over some wording or the other. James replied carefully. “Of course His Majesty has as you have said agreed to a non-aggression pact with both Spain and France. That does not however, negate what I have said. The next war will be fought in the aforementioned countries and therefore it is our duty to ensure we have tactics and the army ready to fight in those wars. Be it now, or in ten years’ time.”

“And what if the techniques used by the Kingdoms in Europe change by the time of the next war? It seems to me that you are modelling the reforms on current methods.” The Duke of St Albans asked.

“Then we shall adapt accordingly.” James replied simply. Knowing there was some sort of trick there waiting for him.

“And do you think spending the current amount for the reforms of the army over this long a period of time when there is no guarantee that there will indeed be war, a good thing?” The Earl of Orford and a former member of the cabinet and naval board asked.

“Gentlemen, I believe that the defence of this country is not something that ever stops. Nor do I believe it is something that can be put into cost. We know the cost of being left with a defunct military and we also know what happens when we do not do enough to keep things running. The cost is more than worth the results.” The Duke of Berwick said.

“And what will you do if they are not?” the Earl of Devonshire asked.

“Then I will hand in my resignation to the King.” James answered simply, he knew it was a bold and dangerous move but it seemed to appease them, or rather shock them into silence.