The Grand Duchy of Salonika (Napoleonic)

Grey Wolf

Grey Wolf

1878

London 1878

"Huh..." Empress Victoria II looked down at the dead bodies, and sighed.
It had had to be done, but it was a waste; worse than that, it had been a risk, and now it needed to be contained.
"You will of course take over"
"Your Majesty?" Marjorie fought hard to retain her composure.
"I know you are a woman", the Empress smiled wrily, "but one happens to be one, also"
"But my lady I was not born to this, as you were to the crown!"
"Not to the crown that one wears now", the Empress pointed out.

There were only two other - living - people in the room, and the Empress looked now across at one, motioning her over with her eyes.
"Naomi?" she asked.
"It is fitting", the Head of her Household said, nodding her head, "For years you had been the Inspector General's keeper, but he betrayed you..."
"Over a minor matter!" the Empress was still angry on this point, "Princess Louise is a member of the Imperial family by extension only, but this sort of scandal could destroy us if it got out. What was the man thinking of?"
"His own glory, naturally" Naomi replied without missing a beat.
"Men!" Victoria II growled, exasperated, then turned back towards the sexagenarian woman, "Perhaps you can understand now?" she asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty"

"Good", the Empress waited and a moment later the only other occupant in the room came over, having been awaiting his cue,
"Yes". Sir Robert Torrens was Solicitor General, and a personal friend of the Empress. He had no qualms about going behind the Prime Minister's backside, and certainly none about appointing a woman to the vacant position, "Such prohibitions as there may seem to be", he said to Marjorie, "are but the product of tradition and inertia. As we saw in the creation of the Imperial System, an idea can seem ahead of its time, yet be entirely apposite for it when implemented."
"And everybody knows you" Naomi put in, "They are used to having to run everything by you before getting in to see....your predecessor. That won't seem like much of a change to them"
"Except that I will be in charge" Marjorie mused, still finding this aspect of things difficult to grasp.
"Quite so", the Empress was tiring of this conversation, "Make whatever arrangements you need.", she told the new Inspector General, "There is a meeting of the Inner Council at 1800 hours, you will be there"

Marjorie looked from the Empress to Naomi, to the Solicitor General, and then to the dead bodies upon the floor and swallowed
"I will be there" she affirmed
"Then we are done here", Victoria II motioned to Naomi, "Arrange for the disposal of ... those" she waved at the corpses
"Of course" the Head of the Household said.
And with that the Empress swept from the room, followed swiftly by the Solicitor General and picking up a trio of heavily armed Imperial Guard as soon as she was back in the corridor.

Marjorie looked to where Naomi was busy writing a note upon what had not long before been her desk. She shook her head in wonderment, and stepped through the open double doors into the inner office. So, this was hers now? It seemed an insanity, but she assumed that she could manage. After all, as Naomi had said, everyone was already used to dealing with her; just now they would not be passed on up the line up they convinced her - they would continue to deal with her.
She sat herself down in the Inspector General's chair - her chair - and looked down at the pile of reports before her. With a shrug she picked up the top-most one and began to read


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Grey Wolf

Grey Wolf

1879

Vienna 1879

Emperor Franz Josef regarded the photograph upon the wall with a peculiar look. It showed three incarnations of emperors now, but had been taken but five years previously, in the high Summer of 1874. His uncle Ferdinand looked like he always had had, as far as the forty-nine year-old could remember - pleasant, kind and rather dim. His father, Franz Karl, dead now these last 12 months, looked more worried, concerned, but a good man, focused on the needs of the empire, already heavily involved before his brother's passing. Franz Josef was most embarassed by his own appearance in the photograph, seemingly carefree, a jaunty smile on his face, his favourite Guards uniform worn with aplomb. There was time for none of that now - the reality of the Imperial dignity had soon stripped him of his carefree approach to life.

He moved his glance from the photograph to the ornate grandmother clock beside it; 07:30, still early, but he had been up two hours working already. Later he would have to travel to the railway station and entrain for Trieste where he was due to launch the newest vessel of the imperial fleet. He was still unsure how he felt about that - a ship named after his father was a fine and fitting ideal, but he had been informed that the Kaiser Franz Karl was to be termed a battleship, the old terminology for a ship of the line. It was apparently larger and somehow different than the half dozen armoured frigates that Austria had constructed to date, though he was unsure how in the latter case. The dual classification of armoured frigates and armoured corvettes had made sense to him, but now apparently the British were changing things. He did not think much of that.

His brother understood more of that than he did; Ferdinand Max was Admiral of the Fleet, and had only the month before returned from taking the main part of it on a cruise into the Black Sea during which it had visited Sevastopol and Trebizond. As an element of naval manoevres it had been successful and given the new intake valuable training. As a diplomatic exercise it had been somewhat strained, the Russian Tsesarevitch having entertained his brother at Sevastopol and continually tried to sound him out about all manner of things - Austria's attitude towards the Anglo-Russian disagreement in the Yukon for example! No wonder Ferdinand Max had been confused; Vienna did not even know what it thought about that!

The visit to Trebizond had been instructive, Ferdinand Max and some of his senior engineering officers had visited the famed locomotive works, and seen in action the Mark II armoured landcraft. As his brother had reported to him, the thing sounded insane when you were told about it, looked grotesque but had a functionality when demonstrated. One of his chief engineers had even gone so far as to suggest that Vienna sponsor a similar programme in its own works, but Franz Josef had quickly put him in his place. Even had there been the money to do so, he would not have spent it on such foolery!

There came a sharp knock upon the door and Franz Josef sighed.
"Enter" he said, drily.
"Father", his second son strode in, quickly kissing his hands and then taking his accustomed place upon the corner armchair.
"How did I come to raise such a one as you?" the emperor asked him, not for the first time.
Leopold Franz just gave him his usual far-too-boyish grin and then spoke what was on his mind,
"I want go to Rome?"
"Rome?" Franz Josef was only half listening, but wished that even that half had heard something else.
"Eckhardt is going and he says that it is something not to be missed - that I am at the ideal age"
"Which is what?" his father snapped
"Twenty-four apparently!" and Leopold Franz laughed.

Franz Josef sighed and gave his son his full attention,
"Relations with Italy are not good" he said.
"They never are" his son quipped, "How can they be when Italy is France's satellite?"
"Even so, they are worse than usual. Did you not read a transcript of Bartolli's speech in the Italian diet?"
"I heard about it. I don't read such things", his son was dismissive.
"You should", the emperor began but knew that it was useless, "The Italian cabinet is asserting its independence from Paris. He stated that Italy as a nation, his words that, has certain inalienable rights, and that national unification was obviously the ultimate goal."
"I do not care about politics!" Leonard Franz was disparaging, "We are going to see the Colliseum and the...the other Roman things"

"We will talk about it when I get back" Franz Josef decided, not having the energy for now
"Excellent!" his son knew he had won the victory of avoiding instant dismissal, "When you get back from where?"
"Do you not read the Court Circular?"
"Only to find out what you have me doing", he grinned
"A battleship named in honour of your grandfather is being launched at Trieste today"
"Battleship?" Leopold Franz frowned at the word
"I know" his father grimaced, "Apparently we are to use the word for larger and more powerful armoured frigates"
"Oh?", his son shrugged, "I hope you have a good time!"
And with that he was gone


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Grey Wolf

Grey Wolf

1880

Warsaw, Poland 1880

General Charles de Ville knew that what he was doing was treason, but he had a higher calling, though that would not save him if he were caught. Once out of the palace, he eschewed the carriages that waited ready to escort such dignatories as he back to their abodes, and instead crossed blatantly towards The Parisienne coffee house. He would need a story, something plausible to anybody who might be watching, or who might later enquire, and the coffee house was perfect for that. Especially after a hard day's work, it was the perfect place to unwind, and it belied its name by offering beers, wine, and spirits, something hardly uncommon in French-influenced Europe, but something he knew from the American ambassador would have been anathema in the kind of uptight society that he came from.

"Coffee and brandy" he ordered as he leant upon the bar
"Yes of course sir", Raymond was a dual national, as were many in Warsaw, and was equally at home in Polish, as in French.
"Has Msr Legrange been in yet tonight?" the general asked; it was eight o'clock and possible that he had already missed him
"Not as yet, sir"
"Good", he swapped a handful of coins for the hot glass, and carried it carefully over to a window table.
Outside it was beginning to snow, only a light fall, but a sign that Winter was fast approaching, especially this far East.

It was almost twenty minutes before Legrange put in an appearance. His usual dishevelled look was enhanced by the snow sticking to his great coat, and the battered hat he always wore looked as if it had been lightly coated in flour. He nodded the usual nod to the general then proceeded to the bar and ordered something long and warming. It was several minutes more before he joined his friend at the table, and sipped heartily at the witche's brew before him,
"Charles!" he effused, "You are out late"
"Pressure of work", the general strived to sound light hearted, "Why are you so late?"

Legrange took another long drink then sighed
"The Italian situation" he shook his head, "Even up here, it has everyone worked up"
"You do not really think there will be war?" Charles was astonished, "The Prince Imperial is King of Italy whatever his cabinet says!"
"I know", Legrange once more shook his head, "It seems an insane situation, but Bartolli is not an easy man"
"What do you think his move will be?"
"He has already declared 'sovereignty' whatever that might mean, and Paris hasn't sent the Guard in. I honestly cannot read the fellow"

They talked a while about mutual acquaintances. Legrange's role at the French embassy was as military liaison with the allied Polish forces, so there were a lot of people that they knew in common. In addition, Charles had studied at THAT PLACE; who hadn't in the French-allied countries if they wished for their careers to be successful? There were thus a dozen men, now senior officers in different postings across the French Empire, whom he had at one time been friends with. It was always interesting to ask Legrange about them, and this time he heard more of one than he had for a long, long time.

Sebastien Dupreys was now a Marshal in the Guard Occidentale, serving in the French colony at Saigon. Recently, Charles learned, he had been elevated to supreme commander of the Indo-Chinese theatre and had just last month returned from a punitive expedition against Annamese rebels. His name was on the up in Paris, and many reckoned that he was in line for a recall to the European theatre, especially if the Italian situation got out of hand.

They talked in a similar fashion through several refills of people with whom Charles was closely acquainted, and Legrange professionally interested in, before at around ten o'clock the general looked out into the night sky and rubbed his chin. It was time to make his move.
"Do you know the Greengage Factory?" he asked, apparently apropos of nothing.
"British concern?" Legrange asked, to which the other nodded, "I know it"
"There is a drop there?"
"There is?" Legrange was surprised.
"D'Esperry runs it. Tell him it will be full this time tomorrow, but if its not picked up by Midnight it will be empty again."
"I am not sure I understand you..." Legrange was staring at the Polish general in some confusion.
"I do not understand myself", Charles said, playing on the double meaning, "but pass the message on"
"As you say"

A short time later, Legrange took his leave, and the general headed once more to the bar
"Some pastries with this one" he ordered.
Carrying them back to his table, he wondered if he had done the right thing. He knew Legrange could not, would not, do any more than pass on the message, but was he already too exposed? But this meeting was nothing unusual, was indeed usually something that he could clearly say was in Poland's interests, and he had done nothing out of the ordinary that night - until the end. He just had to hope that all was well, and that things all worked out in the end!

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Grey Wolf

Grey Wolf

Berlin, Prussia, 1881

The explosion rocked the tram, almost throwing it over onto its side, but somehow it held itself upright. However, the blast had jarred it sideways and off the rails, and the steamer in front came to a shuddering halt as the greatly increased resistance told the driver what had happened. Another explosion wrent the sky, blasting flames up from the embassy quarter, raining smoke and soot down upon the parks surrounding the mansions of the foreigners.

This was the fifth day that the Polish guns had been within range of the Prussian capital, and each day things had got slightly worse. Looking out on the stricken tram from the coffee house he always took his lunch at, the British cultural attache Piers Mainwaring could only wonder whether it, or his embassy, would make it through the day. The Polish artillery was either firing randomly, or had a woefully inaccurate aim; their barrages were landing anywhere, threatening to create panic in the city, but doing little to damage the stalwart Prussian defence.

"Bastards killed my cat", Oswald Painter sat down opposite, thumping a flagon of beer upon the table.
"Pardon?" Mainwaring blinked across at him
"Polish bastards!" the other spat, "Their barrage last night killed my cat!"
"Oh, sorry to hear that", Mainwaring wondered why he was talking about cats when there was so much of greater import all around them, "Is there any word from Paris?"
"Many words", Oswald snorted, "but no action."
"It is a difficult situation to reconcile" Maiwaring observed.

Outside, the tram had now been emptied of its passengers and a small crew of workmen was preparing to train it back onto the tracks. The sky was darkening, perhaps threatening rain - though in a city under bombardment, rain was a blessing, preventing any fires from getting out of control.
"Its been almost two weeks now", Mainwaring thought aloud, "surely if Paris was going to do anything, they would have done it by now"
"Probably", Oswald took a gulp of his beer, "No doubt the situation in Italy has got them fully occupied - not to mention Vientiane where their rogue Marshal has precipitated a war"
"He'll be a hero Marshal if he pulls it off"
"Maybe" Oswald said, gracelessly, "Bastards! They killed my bloody cat!"


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 

Admiral Matt

Grey Wolf said:
Matt, hi

In OTL the USA was only going to get any of these provinces itself it it either paid for them (and Mexico was unwilling to sell) or took them by force - of course, in OTL the USA took them by force THEN paid for them!

In this timeline, the USA has not gone to war with Mexico, and the Emperor is certainly not going to be selling his territory. In fact, with a stable regime in place for decades, Mexico is going to have a stronger, more mobile army, and have been waging a campaign, first to tame the Apache and Comanche, then to impose order on what would be the increasingly lawless territories in the further North.

Can you look at the map I attach (nevada-utah}? I see what you mean about access to Nevada from Las Vegas, but that looks a lot more likely than controlling it from California, since there is a mountain range in the way? Even if it gains a heavy influx of US settlers, there does not seem a logic to these looking to California rather than to the USA as the alternative. Can California cross the mountains and pose any sort of a threat? Certainly not at the time of its founding when it can barely deal with its own internal control problems.

I can see that similarly with Utah they are strong bones of contention with the USA, not necessarily with it being expansionist, rather than with the "democratic" rights of settlers to decide on their own form of government, even if this means separating the land from the nation that rules it. Mexico is going to react strongly to the eventual loss of Texas, and not make the same mistake again in the North. The US settlers there will accept Mexican law, or be put down, and as long as Mexico remains backed by Britain the USA isn't going to go to war with it, but that "as long as" cannot be forever, and Mexico is well aware it needs to assert full control before Britain's interests turn elsewhere, as they had done where Spain is concerned, of course.

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
Click to expand...

Well, that map doesn't really do Nevada justice. The entire state, barring again the Los Vegas bit by the Colorado, is all low mountain range. In point of fact, it is much, much easier to access the bulk of Nevada from California. In fact that's exactly what happened in OTL - Nevada's settlement was initially made up of people who walked through the passes east and northeast of Sacramento. Even later, when Nevada became a settlement route to California, the settlement was almost entirely along the Californian border, primarily at the "point" of the border.

And as I said, it's important to remember that we aren't talking about California "seizing" Nevada or Utah - those areas would, at Californian secession already be Californian. The question is whether Mexico can take those regions away from California, rather than the reverse. Now Utah is so isolated that - assuming it's kept from being settled, seceding, and seeking American protection - it's probably easier for the established Mexican government to sneak a cavalry detachment up there than for California to do the same. Nevada, though, is an entirely different matter. There would be no intuitive reason to view Nevada as anything except California's empty northeastern hinterland, and tremendous practical difficulties in reaching the areas of settlement. Once the Mexican commander in question reaches those areas, he's a few days from Sacramento and weeks of barren wilderness from the nearest loyal settlement. And of course everyone there thinks that they are Californians - unsurprising in people living within province of that name who immigrated to their present homes almost solely from San Francisco.

I see what you're saying in general, and can see how it would work in certain areas, but Nevada just seems an awful stretch.
 

The Gunslinger

Grey Wolf said:
Like most of my writing, it got bogged down and died. Of course, it also suffered from having as its impetus a dream and the further I got from that, the less I knew what to write about!

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
Click to expand...

I was really hoping to at least see the seemingly inevitable war over Alaska...
 
Grey Wolf

Grey Wolf

TheMadPPSh said:
Is this a mod to be released for Victoria 2 or were you just using those maps for illustration?
Click to expand...

I can't draw maps, so was using the game to allow me to generate them for the thread. I DID try to play it, but it got very unbalanced very soon.

I'm looking to see what I can do with this towards maybe including it in a forthcoming AH collection through CreateSpace, though would need to resketch the maps as I don't think Paradox would be very pleased if I published V2 generated maps in a book!

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
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