Personal Disunion (1)
Charles Felix[1] died on June 3, 1831.[2] His reign over the Kingdom of Sardinia had been absolute in theory, nominal in practice. He had been a patron of the arts introduced a number of reforms to the criminal and civil law code which brought Sardinia into the nineteenth century, but not the most important reform — the one that would have allowed his people to propose their own reforms. As he had no children, the succession went to a very distant cousin, Charles Albert of the house of Savoy-Carignano. There were many reports coming out of the Palazzo Regio that Charles Felix had repeatedly talked about choosing a different heir; however, he had never made an official declaration to that effect. Therefore, by the usual reckoning the rightful heir was still Charles Albert.

But the question of succession was intimately tied to the destiny of Sardinia. As with Sicily years earlier, the small kingdom faced an immediate decision: to remain an independent kingdom, become a republic or unite with Italy?

Having lost the friendly anchorages of Sicily, the United Kingdom had an interest in keeping Sardinia independent in one form or another, especially as it was positioned between French Corsica and Italian Tunisia and would help keep the route to Malta and beyond secure. But with the threat of Barbary pirates gone from the western Mediterranean, Sardinia had less need for the protection of a powerful navy—and such protection would afford them, at most, an uncertain degree of local autonomy. If the island became part of Italy, it would at least have representation in the government that ruled its fate. Besides, Italy was still growing economically.

Charles Albert was not his father. He’d had some idea of what his people wanted even before the mass demonstrations in Cagliari. He gave orders that so long as the demonstrators remained peaceful, they were not to be interfered with, and said that he was in consultation with His Majesty Achille I and his government to determine “how the manifest will of the Sardinian people may best be effected.” The question was how he was going to effect that will without suffering the indignity of abdication…

Personal unions were well known in Europe. Sometimes they led to deeper unions, and sometimes not. The United Kingdom began as personal unions between England and Ireland, and between England and Scotland. However, the union with Hanover had become a union in name only even before 1829, when it ended with the death of George IV and the accession of Charlotte I. In Europe at this time, there were personal unions between nations whose institutions seemed determined to thwart any further steps toward unification (Sweden/Norway) or between nations which wanted further unification but suffered from potentially conflicting obligations to foreign powers (Moldavia/Wallachia).

What Charles Albert and Achille invented in 1831 was personal disunion — the United Kingdoms of Italy and Sardinia, one state with two monarchs. Achille I would be king of Italy and Sicily and suzerain of Tunisia, but Charles Albert would be king of Sardinia. When the monarch of Italy summoned the legislators, the Sardinian representatives would require the assent of their own monarch to go to Terni. In the event that the Italian monarch dismissed the legislature, the Sardinian representatives would have every right to remain in Terni and sit in the Assembly (but, as they would be not nearly enough to form a quorum, they would have nothing to do there) if the Sardinian monarch so desired.

It is certain that Gioacchino I would never have tolerated such an arrangement, but Achille was not his father. An amiable and unjealous king whose worst quality was a fondness for having exotic animals killed and brought to his table to see what they tasted like, he was quite pleased to see Italy grow even if it did nothing to expand his own kingdom.

Less pleased, of course were the Austrians. Metternich was increasingly certain he’d erred in his decision not to intervene in Sicily. His distaste for trying to reinforce weak reeds had resulted in the disappearance of an ally and the strenghening of a hostile power. Now, Italy was growing stronger still. Although Charles Albert’s brother-in-law Rainer Joseph was willing to claim the Sardinian throne “due to the outrageous betrayal and subordination of our great kingdom,” this didn’t add up to a casus belli.

So, all through June and July, the government of Vienna fussed and fumed but did nothing. And then something wholly unexpected — even unimaginable — happened…

The Marina Italiana were well aware that something very strange was going on in the waters between Pantelleria and Sicily. Tremors along the Sicilian coast, cinder-rich foam washing up on the beaches, dead fish floating on the surface of the ocean and columns of smoke and bubbling gas rising out of the water were unmistakable warning signs. In the Sicilian town of Sciacca, due north of the affected area, silver objects turned black from exposure to airborne sulfur. Although no orders had yet come from Terni, let alone London or other more distant capitals, it is understandable that the navies of the Mediterranean would feel the need to investigate.

There is no way to determine precisely what happened on the morning of July 28. The captain of the NdMI Giovanni Corsino, Francesco Trafiletti, maintained to his dying day that his ship was the first to approach the new island. “It was the tip of a mountain of ash and cinder, risen out of the sea and already higher than the tops of the masts,” he said.

Trafiletti christened the island “Isola di Cenere,” or “Isle of Cinders” and ordered the Corsino to circumnavigate the island several times, to better map it. The island was less than five kilometers in circumference, and was dominated by a ridge along the northeast. The calderas were visible from the north, and spewed fresh ashes that added to the island as he watched. On the third orbit of the island, Trafiletti said, he saw a smaller vessel flying a British naval ensign, but it gave the island and the Corsino too wide a berth for him to make out any details.

Having seen no harbor, he ordered several men to go ashore in a small boat and plant a flag. While the men were returning, according to Trafiletti, another vessel appeared on the southern horizon, but did not come close enough for the lookout to see its flag.

Captain Thomas Simson of HMS Zebra, an 18-gun brig-sloop en route from Gibraltar to the Aegean in support of pirate suppression, told a different story. Like Trafiletti, he described seeing the island, circling it in an unsuccessful search for an anchorage and sending a boat to look. He gave the island the name “Graham Island,” after the First Lord of the Admiralty.[3]

While the boat was on the beach, the lookout on the Zebra spotted the approaching Corsino. Simson knew that his discovery of this new island meant that the British Empire had a claim on it, but only if he could bring the word back — and no one yet knew he was here. He could not be sure how far the Italians would go to secure their own claim on an island of such strategic importance, but the Corsino was a 28-gun steam-frigate. If it came to a fight, the Zebra would be alone and badly outgunned and, with a ten-knot west wind, would have no hope of escaping in any direction. With this in mind, he signaled for the boat to return, and withdrew as soon as it had.

And, of course, there was the third ship. The Austrian merchantman Herrlich had delivered a shipment of convicts to Tripoli and was now loaded with the salted fish, dates and olives that were the closest thing Tripolitania had to an economic raison d’être. What the Herrlich was doing in these waters is another mystery — even a subpar captain and crew should not have gone so far off course so soon as to end up west of Malta on a voyage from Tripoli to Split. The most widely held theory is that the captain, Szentmarjay János, was headed to a Sicilian port to trade for grappa.

Like Simson, Szentmarjay[4] claimed that he had come to the island first, named it “Franzinsel” in honor of the Austrian emperor, circled it and sent men to land on it, but saw the Corsino in the distance. As the Herrlich was a far less formidable vessel even than the Zebra, he had no choice but to withdraw.

Simson’s testimony, it should be noted, included no mention of a third vessel. Nor did Szentmarjay mention the Zebra. But, as if to frustrate historians, all the captains were able to describe the island with sufficient accuracy and consistency to confirm that they had indeed been there, in whatever order.

And that made all the difference. Britain, Italy and Austria all had a claim on the new island, but Britain didn’t need the island. Britain had Malta. Austria had few possessions in the Mediterranean, and even such a marginal one as “Franzinsel” seemed to be worth fighting for.

—Arrigo Gillio, United Kingdoms [Eng. trans.]

[1] King of Sardinia.
[2] A little over a month after his death IOTL.
[3] Earl Grey’s First Lord of the Admiralty IOTL as well.
[4] His family name. Hungarian surnames usually come first.
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Good to see an update from this TL once more and with a rather obscure, but interesting part of history indeed. Britain will probably make a bit of a fuss, but eventually back down, but Austria could see this as a tipping point to bring Italy down a peg or two.
The story and this update in specific are interesting indeed, but while a war between Austrians and Italian both in OTL and TTL would be far from unexpected. But in TTL circumstances and because of the recent, emerged from the sea, island that seems that would be a casus belli for the possible war that would be a naval one.
Also, I think that if well, would be possible that Britain would be willing, at least if was a more or less, short one, to keep her neutrality, but wouldn't be to discard that could get involved if start a naval war so close of Malta.
Well a true new frontier leading too war.

You know with all of Italy's I kibd of want Austria to come out on top here, or at least break even.

I like The new King of Italy allowing subroyalty to form.
Personal Disunion (2)
September 12, 1831
Coatzacoalcos, Tehuantepec

President Lorenzo de Zavala reluctantly set down the spy reports from Chiapas and northern Guatemala. It wasn’t that these reports were terribly compelling—the Maya in those parts of the Spanish Empire were only too happy to share their secrets with their brethren in Tehuantepec, but the Spanish Empire just wasn’t doing anything important that they were in position to see. And the reports were written in a different dialect of Maaya t’aan[1] than he was familiar with, so he had to put a little effort into seeing that nothing was happening. But Zavala had an unpleasant decision to make, and it was hard to turn away from anything that might let him put it off another minute.

On August 15, in Mexico City, the Cortes of New Spain had issued a vote of no confidence in Iturbide’s government. Representatives of half a dozen political parties had united, hearing the voices of their constituents that they were sick of seeing their young men shipped overseas, maimed and killed for the glory of the Spanish Empire—or else that those troops were needed closer to home, against the Apaches and Comanches and in case the United States got the urge to grow larger again.

Iturbide responded by staging a coup. He must have seen what was coming in time to get at least a few troops into position. Right now he controlled Mexico City and had about a third of the opposition—and a lot of his former supporters—behind bars. His loyalists were scouring the countryside, looking for those who’d escaped. His Somewhat Glorious Vice-Majesty Francisco was sitting quietly in the palace and trying not to draw attention to himself.

In the abstract, all this was bad news. The question was, what was Tehuantepec to do about it?

In a way, the republic was already involved. Those who had escaped Iturbide’s reach were assembling in Veracruz and calling themselves a government in exile. And now, New Spain’s armies in Hispaniola had renounced their loyalty to Iturbide’s government and were asking for transport back to the mainland.

That would be difficult. The Tehuantepecan navy, such as it was, consisted of a handful of captured slave ships bought cheap from the British because no one else wanted them. These ships had good Veracruzano sailors on board, but were poorly armed. Anything that might lead to a fight against Spain at sea was not a good idea. In fact, the Republic’s main defense was the promise that its people would fight fiercely to resist any invasion. As proud as Zavala was of this, it only worked if you didn’t make so much trouble in peacetime that your neighbors decided they had nothing to lose by war.

Zavala would never admit as much in public, but in the beginning he had seen this little republic — this marriage of Spaniard and Maya, of Old World and New World civilizations — not as the fruit of victory, but as something salvaged from defeat. His dream had been political freedom for all the Spanish-speaking peoples of the Americas, whether as one polity or several. Instead, Spain still ruled the isthmus and the islands directly, and ruled New Spain and much of South America through viceroys.

Zavala knew for a fact that his friend Vicente[2] felt the same, and he supposed that Bolívar in Gran Colombia must have held similar sentiments — that his nation existed to keep the torch of freedom lit until it could set the captive lands on fire again. Unlike Zavala, Bolívar had been able to act on it. Much good it had done him.

So this is the question. Where do your loyalties lie? With the land and people you once tried to set free? Or with the land and people who have seen fit to honor you with their highest office?

If he were completely honest with himself, the question was not settled in his own mind. But even if he thought only for Tehuantepec, it was very much in Tehuantepec’s interest that Spain, viceroyalties and all, lose the Haitian War. They had already defeated Gran Colombia. If they succeeded in imposing their will on Santo Domingo to any degree, it would only be a matter of time before they turned their attention here. They needed to lose, and what was happening now might be the deciding factor.

And Iturbide’s actions, it was now clear, had the blessing of Spain.

And by all accounts, Iturbide’s control was threadbare outside the capital and not so strong inside it. Perhaps that was to be expected — the man had spent a decade and more engaging in politics while other men fought. It was a little late for him to claim to be upholding the glory of the army, especially while that same army was employed in a way that did nothing to make its people any freer, safer or richer.

Let us do this.

[1] Maya language, which Zavala learned in childhood. (On paper, Spanish and Maya are coequal languages in Tehuantepec. In practice, a Veracruzano hispanophone can live a long and successful life without knowing a word of Maya, but a Yucateco mayaphone who wants to get anywhere outside his or her own village needs to be able to at least get by in Spanish.)
[2] Vicente Guerrero, first president of Tehuantepec.
Which parts of Latin America are free from Spanish rule? It's only southern Argentina, Paraguay, and Tehuantepec, right? Peru and Mexico are ruled indirectly by Viceroys?
I am still hoping Francisco ends up Emperor of New Spain, a compromise between the conservatives and the moderate rebels to come.

It seems like it could happen here.
Which parts of Latin America are free from Spanish rule? It's only southern Argentina, Paraguay, and Tehuantepec, right? Peru and Mexico are ruled indirectly by Viceroys?

It's all of Argentina, although Argentina is divided and the most populous part is under heavy British influence.

Gran Colombia is also independent, although it's lost some territory in TTL Ecuador to the South American viceroyalty.
It's all of Argentina, although Argentina is divided and the most populous part is under heavy British influence.

Gran Colombia is also independent, although it's lost some territory in TTL Ecuador to the South American viceroyalty.

How is Gran Columbia doing these days?
How is Gran Columbia doing these days?

They're in a much worse position than the U.S. was at the end of TTL's War of 1812 — they're not attracting as many immigrants, they don't have as much territory to expand into, and there's a real risk that in the next war they might be conquered outright. So Sucre's government is deferential to the needs of the army, which consist mainly of better roads and money for weapons.
December 5 at 10 Downing
I've been away too long again. Looking for work, doing work when I have it, writing books, promoting the books I've got… the usual.

December 5, 1831
Cabinet Room, 10 Downing Street

“Don’t worry, gentlemen,” said Earl Grey. “I shan’t keep you long.” The Reform Act 1831 — what the newspapers were calling the “Great Reform Act” — had passed six weeks ago. Not easily, either — the Prime Minister had had to threaten to resign, and Her Majesty had had to threaten once again to pack the Lords with her own supporters. But it had passed. As a result, everyone in Parliament, even in the Cabinet, would have to return home and begin making the acquaintance of their new constituents if they wished to stay in the Government.

“I called this meeting to consider events overseas. Obviously our main concern is the war, but there are other matters we should get out of the way first. For example”—he turned to Sir John Russell—“I’m getting word of a lot of unhappy colonials in Australia, John.”

“If ever colonials are happy, it’s when they’re independent as Yankees and well-protected as Warwickshiremen,” said Russell. “I understand they find Sir George’s New System a little confining,[1] but I’m not prepared to write it off for a few years yet. We at least need a better notion of how well it works on the convicts themselves. And for those who don’t like his way of doing things, there are already all-free-labour settlements at Kinjarling and Greyhaven[2]. By definition, the New System doesn’t hold there.

“Honestly, the West Indies are a bit more trouble. Not only are the owners grumbling about having to set free their slaves, but the slaves themselves have begun claiming that it’s not happening fast enough. There’s a fellow named Sam Sharpe leading protests in Jamaica.[3]”

“I hope Her Majesty is not put out,” said Grey, “given the effort she put into gaining as much as she did.”

“She herself is all too aware of the compromise involved,” said Brougham. “Given the choice, she would not have been fully satisfied with anything short of instant emancipation. And I advised her that in any event, Negroes no less than white men would sooner tell their children ‘We have our freedom because I stood tall and demanded it’ than ‘We have our freedom as a gift from a good queen in a faraway land.’ Moreover, many of the more elderly slaves fear that they will not live to see freedom under the current timetable. These things she understood. She has sent a letter to Mr. Sharpe saying that she has heard his protests and has asked her allies to place before the next session of Parliament a bill accelerating the timetable.”

“Should we support that bill?” said Grey.

Palmerston[4] spoke up. “I propose we allow it to be written first before making that decision, and that we turn our attention to the true issue. The war.”

There were a number of wars happening overseas, but no one doubted which one he meant. It was the war that was either the Austro-Italian War or the War of the Sardinian Succession — no one could agree on a name yet. And it was the war that was most likely to prove a headache to Her Majesty’s Government, more so even than the colonial wars that government was currently entangled in.

“Our most immediate knowledge comes from our spies in France taking advantage of the semaphore,” Palmerston continued. “Winter weather being what it is, that knowledge is a bit spotty. I can report that, whatever Metternich may say about Sardinia or the new island, Austria’s true war aim appears to be the province of Venetia, and presumably its shipyard.

“At present, their armies are still trying to force their way out of the Alpine foothills. Further east at Portogruaro, a cavalry charge has apparently been blunted by a regiment of infantrymen armed with Francotte revolvers.” Everyone understood that blunted was a word which here meant turned into a low wall of cooling horsemeat. “I mention this to bring it to the attention of the Army. It sounds as though we’d do well to equip our own regiments with such weapons.” He glanced at Sir James Kempt.[5]

Grey also turned to Kempt. “Are these weapons more lethal than our own muskets?”

“I wouldn’t say more lethal,” said Kempt. “Perhaps a little more accurate. The important thing is… imagine yourself a cavalryman. If a man fires at you with a musket and misses, you have at least fifteen seconds to close the distance and ride him down before he’s finished reloading.”

“Unless he has a second musket.”

“True. But if he fires at you with a Francotte and misses, he can send six more bullets your way in half that time. You’d need a bit of luck to survive that unscathed, and your poor horse would need a good deal more. And there is one more thing we need to bear in mind — since they’re selling their older revolvers to Italy, the French can equip their own army with the newer model that came out last year. It has a slight advantage in accuracy and a much greater advantage in safety of use.”

Grey turned back to Palmerston. “Does Italy have enough of these revolvers to offset the Austrian advantage in manpower?”

“I don’t know,” said the foreign minister, “but I suspect the news from the naval front is more important.” He turned to Graham.

“Word came to me this morning,” said Graham. “The Austrian navy has suffered a catastrophic defeat near the new island. I don’t know the details, but it seems unlikely they will be able to oppose Italy effectively at sea for the duration.”

“Do you yet know how this happened?”

“I can surmise a good deal. To begin with, the island is very small and a known objective. The Italians knew exactly where they were coming, and I dare say they’ve informers enough among the Croats and Albanians to give them a good notion of when. The Adriatic is a narrow sea.

“Secondly, the Austrians approached the island with the wind against them. When a ship needs to tack, an experienced sailor—and the Italian navy does have such sailors—can predict how it will move with some accuracy. Combine that with a vessel that can maneuver more or less at will, and you have an insurmountable advantage.”

“Under the same conditions, would not the Royal Navy have suffered from the same disadvantage?”

“Under the same conditions, the Royal Navy would never have attacked from that direction. We didn’t develop a reputation for invincibility by committing suicide.”

“What of Tripoli?” said Palmerston.

“To be on the safe side, the Royal Navy has moved a squadron there from Corfu.”

“Good,” said Palmerston.

“Is that likely to entangle us in this conflict?” asked Grey.

“In my opinion, no,” said Palmerston. “It is in neither party’s interest to bring the war to Barbary or Libya. The natives are a greater threat to Italian or Austrian rule than either is to the other, especially if Egypt chooses to support them.”

Grey nodded. Egypt — or more precisely, the larger Cairene Empire of which it was the foremost member — had very recently become a power to be reckoned with. Muhammad Ali had turned the last two boys of the Osman dynasty into vassal kings of Turkey and Kurdistan, and was extending his rule deeper into Africa. Sooner or later, this would be a problem, but sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof.

“If Egypt attacks by land, they’ll have to send an army across the Libyan desert,” said Russell. “No easy task even for Arabs.”

“And if they attack by sea, they’ll have us to contend with,” said Graham.

“This Muhammad Ali has gained what he has through prudence,” said Palmerston, “attacking only when his enemies are at their weakest. He won’t be such a fool. There remains the question of whether we should intervene—either to gain the new island or secure Sardinian independence.”

Grey nodded. Austria was — or ought to be — stronger on land. Italy was now confirmed to be stronger at sea. But Austria’s official war aims were Sardinian independence and possession of the new island, both of which would require naval force. Britain had naval force to spare. Which meant that sooner or later Austria was likely to turn to them for help.

“I know Metternich wishes us to declare war on Italy,” said Grey, “and if we do intervene, France will intervene on Italy’s behalf. What might France do that she is not already doing?”

“France is still supplying Italy with arms and loans,” said Palmerston, “and volunteers from their own armies are coming to Italy to fight. They are not, however, sending whole armies over the border. Nor have they invaded Baden.[6]

“If France joins in, Hanover, Prussia and the Netherlands come in on our side, and Denmark… I trust they’ll join us.” The emphasis he put on the word trust implied that he did no such thing. “I have no notion of what Sweden will do. As for Russia, they appear to be busy with its own affairs again. The Poles and Finns are by all accounts restless these days.”[7]

This was sounding worse and worse. If Sweden joined the war on the Franco-Italian side, Britain could retaliate by prying Norway, Iceland and (if nobody had anything better to do) Greenland away from Stockholm. At this point, however, they would be talking about a much larger war than anyone in his right mind wanted. Certainly it would make no sense to shed so much blood over the Sardinian succession and a tiny island still stinking of the volcanic fires that birthed it.

“And If the United States joined in on the wrong side, as I fear they would,” Palmerston continued, “we’d have to devote considerable forces to protecting Louisiana and our own colonies.”

“How worried should we be about the United States?”

“They can’t build a ship of the line in the middle of the country and send it to port by canal, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Russell. “The canals are only five or six feet deep, and there’s the size of the locks to think about.”

At this point, Lord Melbourne, Chancellor of the Exchequer[8], spoke up. “What they could do, of course,” he said, “is transport a great quantity of timber, cordage, sailcloth, cannon, and steam-engines if needed, to a protected shipyard in much less time. That would greatly speed the building of such ships. And there’d be nothing we could do to prevent it.”

“Let those ships once put out to sea, and they’ll be ours,” said Graham.

“Those canals may yet do us harm without anyone firing a shot,” put in Brougham.

“What do you mean?”

“My friend Mr. Babbage has been making some calculations with his ‘difference engine.’ He says very few of the American canals are ever likely to make enough money to justify the current price of the shares. And many wealthy Britons, to say nothing of the Royal Bank, own such shares.”

“That would hurt the Americans rather more than it hurts us,” said Melbourne.

“We are moving rather far afield of the matter at hand,” said Russell.

“Quite so,” said Brougham. “I apologize. The question, then, is how much effort, men and materiél we should be prepared to expend to maintain Austrian power in the central Mediterranean.”

“Since the Barbary Partition,” said Palmerston, “it is not in our interest to allow any of the Mediterranean powers — friendly or otherwise — to become too weak. I believe it would serve us better to use our diplomatic influence to bring an end to this war before it spreads further.”

Grey nodded. There were still rebels in arms in Orania. The Zulu king Shaka was still in the fight. Asanteman was asking for help against the Fulani. The Abyssinian warlords were also asking for help against Egypt, but they weren’t going to get it — Britain had nothing to spare. At least Rakotobe[9] was secure on his throne now—that would free up a regiment or two… but not enough for a European war. Not with so many places in India, North America and elsewhere that needed watching.

“We will return to that. But speaking of Mediterranean powers, how goes the war in Portugal?”

“Prince Miguel has suffered a defeat and retreated into the Algarve,” said Palmerston. “The government of Spain is sympathetic, but quite preoccupied with Cuba and New Spain. To say nothing of Haiti — the only people they have left fighting for them in Hispaniola are a few mad Americans, a few local Spaniards and a lot of islanders from the East Indies who by all accounts want to go home.”

“Then they have no plans to assist Miguel in his claims?”

“No. Barring a miracle, I estimate that his cause won’t see another summer.”

Grey nodded. Supporting the rebels had been a gamble — one that might possibly have cost Britain an ally had they lost. Instead, their alliance would only grow stronger. That was to the good.

[1] Sir George Arthur’s New System is intended to govern every aspect of the lives of Australian convicts, which means it places considerable restrictions on the free settlers and ex-convicts who wish to hire them.
[2] OTL Albany and Melbourne. (IOTL, Melbourne was founded four years later under PM Melbourne — hence the name. ITTL, Australian free settlers are moving further out and faster to set up towns where there are no convicts, and where they aren’t conscripted as de facto wardens in the New System.)
[3] OTL, this turned into a rebellion.
[4] Foreign Secretary, as IOTL.
[5] Master General of the Ordnance, as IOTL.
[6] An Austrian ally and member of the Südzollverein.
[7] It’s more that they’re trying to exercise the freedoms their constitutions promise.
[8] He was Grey’s Home Secretary IOTL.
[9] King of Madagascar, and a British client.
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Sad Stories of the Death of Kings (1)
The Class of 1821: Ten Years Later

Charles Leopold Douglas turned 10 on February 7. A bright lad and mature beyond his years, he is already being considered for a career in the Royal Navy.
“A captain who doesn’t know how to win will lose a good many battles, but a captain who doesn’t know how to lose will only lose one.” — Adm. Douglas

Heinrich Kauffmann turned March 8 in Eutin. His family can’t afford tutoring, but they taught him to read and he’s borrowed and stolen a few books.
“For the blue flower! For the blue banner! For the heroes of the North!” — Heinrich Kauffman

Samuel George Birney turned 10 on May 21. His father, James G. Birney, has been gradually emancipating his own slaves (very gradually) and trying to get his fellow slaveholders in Alabama, Kentucky and Tennessee to maybe think about not being slaveholders so much. They are not showing much enthusiasm.
“Never speak to me of Southern gentility. I have often enough heard them calling for my father’s blood, and for my blood merely for being his son. Susan Grace was too kind.” — Sam Birney

Augusta Adelaide Fitzclarence turned 10 on August 15 in Hannover, where she summers. She goes to school in London, and is an okay student. This is a great opportunity to talk about the Fitzclarence family in Hannover and Oldenburg. As illegitimate children of the king, they are of course well outside of the succession — but by the same token, there’s nothing stopping them from going into business, and when they do, not only are they privileged with excellent connections, but some of them have some actual business sense. That is a winning combination. They’re especially getting rich in the railroad industry — Hannover already has more kilometers of railroad than Prussia or Austria (whose railroads are of course not compatible with Hannover’s or with each other.)
“Yes. I could go to Bremen, take ship to London and live out my days as a safe and wealthy socialite. I am here because this is where I choose to be.” — Augusta Fitzclarence

Pavel Nikolaevich turned 10 on September 20. He is being tutored well. There are many teachers in Russia who are uncredited because they don’t want to follow the guidelines of the Ministry of Spiritual Reform and Popular Enlightenment, and Grand Duke Nicholas is quietly bringing the better ones into Gatchina Palace.
“Let us bring an end to these mad and blasphemous attempts to reshape the human soul.” — Grand Duke Pavel

William Jonathan Gibbs turned 10 on October 12. With his father’s health failing, he had to leave the Free School and get an apprenticeship with a carpenter.
“Have white men the moral courage, the pluck, the grit, to lay down their foolish prejudice against the colored man and lift him up to a position where he can bear his full share of the toils and dangers of this war?” — William J. Gibbs[1]

Clarence Harlan Barton turned 10 on November 19 in North Oxford, Massachusetts. He is also taking up an apprenticeship, but this one is to an apothecary.
“Quantity and quality are the difference between medicine and poison.” — Clarence Barton

[1] Very close to an OTL quote by Jonathan Clarkson Gibbs.