Chapter 40
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 040
Chapter Title: The Return of the Swindler (3)
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The new Foreign Secretary, Lord Granville, was a man who exuded a completely different vibe from Palmerston.
- Wow. Is this really human handwriting?
We'll gloss over the fact that his handwriting was legendary-level awful. It wasn't important anyway.
While I was busy fighting for the freedom of the Joseon people, the famous Great Exhibition—the Expo—had taken place back home in London. Lord Granville had distinguished himself in organizing it and had grown close to my patron, Gladstone.
"I've heard so much about you! Come, have a seat."
"A pleasure to meet you for the first time. It's a true honor to see the Foreign Secretary."
"They say the conqueror of the Far East is remarkably young and full of vigor—your ambition practically radiates off you."
Oh no. Busted. I used to be a humble guy, but the world had twisted me into this.
"Business is business, though. So, care to explain why the treaty ended up in this form?"
- Obviously, because this guy's corrupt and wanted a cut of the action.
Turn off the provincial gossip radio.
"Because the most valuable commodity in Joseon is manpower—specifically, manpower that can be used as soldiers."
"I've heard the Joseon army is pathetic. They haven't had a single proper battle."
"That's due to the fear of getting implicated in treason. Instead, consider that they've maintained their country despite bordering China by land. They possess exceptional combat prowess."
It was tough for me to say something even I found hard to believe. My tongue felt rough just trying to praise the "elite Joseon troops who fight well." The very phrasing felt off.
But I poured my heart into touting the prowess of the Joseon forces, and Lord Granville, who listened attentively even to a subordinate's words, nodded. It must be because he'd seen the fox fur I'd shipped straight from Joseon for his home. Once he felt the majesty of that magnificent bundle of tiger hair, he'd reconsider the fighting ability of the Joseon people who rolled around with beasts like that.
"I have no intention of rushing into things recklessly like Lord Palmerston. However, some MPs and the press worry that personal friendships might have clouded your judgment. What do you say to that?"
Boil it down to the core issues, and this was it.
Why such a lenient treaty?
Why not squeeze them drier?
After pouring in blood money for a war, is settling for this really in the national interest? Or is it because of favors and friendships?
Of course, I was prepared.
I'm a pro, after all.
"Ultimately, the crux of all discussions is how we handle Joseon's future."
"Ho ho."
"Turning Joseon into a colony would be a grave mistake."
In this era, colonization wasn't just marching in with guns, shooting everyone, and yelling, "Ha! You're our slaves now!" Nearly every place where that was feasible had already been snapped up by the European powers, so the remaining countries were mostly the tougher nuts to crack.
Swallowing a quasi-civilized nation like Joseon required far more sophisticated, long-term planning.
Economic infiltration via vice-ministries.
Logistics control through railroads.
Communications dominance via telegraphs.
Every time an anti-foreigner riot broke out, extract reparations and station troops under the pretext of protecting consulates.
When railroads were attacked, use it as an excuse to form an independent railway guard force, and so on.
And absurdly enough, this process usually happened in a patchwork, independent fashion. Local operators chipped away at rights one by one to build their careers, and before you knew it, it became a colony.
Cases like the Japanese Empire, methodically targeting "those guys! Let's make them our slaves!" over decades with iron discipline, were surprisingly rare.
"If the British Empire sets its mind to it, turning Joseon into a colony would be child's play. But doing so would replace a usable labor force with twenty million anti-British rioters."
"Even if we suck Joseon dry of this and that, it wouldn't be worth more than its role as a bridgehead to check Russia and enter the Chinese market."
"So, we let other countries play the villains while we pose as benevolent patrons."
"Exactly. We've already inserted the most-favored-nation clause anyway. Let the French and Americans shove harsh terms down their throats. We can sit back and enjoy the benefits."
"Is that all?"
"We've already arranged for all the profitable concessions to fall under our influence."
This was the key.
Why hadn't I put things like ginseng monopolies or mining rights directly into the treaty text, settling instead for verbal agreements with King Heonjong?
Because they had to be framed as "personal private commercial activities" for me to hog them all myself.
The other guys would insert most-favored-nation clauses too, so why hand out those rights to randoms when only the British Empire and I should feast?
But compared to being stripped bare, providing Joseon with the advanced technology and expertise of our British East India Company—in exchange for a modest commission—was clearly far better for them. A hundred times better than having it seized at gunpoint.
As my brilliant report wrapped up, Lord Granville nodded.
"Then there's only one issue left."
"What's that?"
"The possibility of betrayal."
True to his British roots of getting stabbed in the back worldwide, here he was fretting over whether the quasi-civilized uga-ugas might stab us.
"That won't happen. The more they learn about the world, the more they'll realize how privileged their treatment is and how they've been brought onto the global stage."
"Overwhelmed by our kindness, they'll side with us?"
That look screaming, "You call that an answer?" So typical of someone jaded by the diplomatic stage.
"With the immediate threat of the Qing Dynasty and Russia's inevitable eastward push not far off, if Joseon wants to preserve its sovereignty, whom else would they loyally befriend?"
"If we build Joseon as our Far East stronghold only for Russia to snatch it, that'd be no small problem. But... the plan itself is excellent."
Finally, he nodded.
"Good work. You're dismissed."
"Then I'll take my leave."
"For a first real operation, it's an impressive achievement. Brag about it anywhere."
Unlike the ferocious Palmerston, who sucked everything dry relentlessly, Lord Granville leaned isolationist, so he latched onto the point that "Britain avoids direct entanglement in Far East affairs." Must be because he's Gladstone's friend—man of fine conscience.
The major hurdle cleared.
With Granville's tacit approval, sticking the steel straw into Joseon was now my job.
We're good.
I'm officially set to become filthy rich...!
The Anglo-Joseon Mutual Defense and Trade Treaty went into effect as if nothing had happened.
Britain had helped Joseon out of pure Christian spirit and love for freedom, without any conditions or gains, solely for the sake of justice.
Joseon hadn't been forced open by beatings; they'd voluntarily opened their doors upon seeing the goodwill of the British, who had saved the royal ancestral shrines from traitors plotting to overthrow the nation.
Everyone was happy.
Perfect.
But the world always has its packs of villains who hate justice and despise freedom.
"Joseon is a barbaric land that brutally murdered our missionaries who only sought to preach peace! Those island scum have finally shed even the pretense of civility and are rolling in the mud with savages!!"
We call the country where such people congregate France.
The French were furious.
Was it an inferiority complex exploding after feeling the power gap at the Expo? Or did these pitiful Catholics just itch to slander the Empire of Justice? Either way, how pathetic.
"They staged a coup, so they're desperate for achievements."
"They declared they'd build a strong France, so they have to show it through action."
"Us meddling in Joseon on our own? We were supposed to fight the Qing together—what nonsense from those frogs?"
Ah. Right, that too.
Late 1851.
A coup had erupted in France. A self-coup by President Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte.
People often say Joseon fell due to factional strife and political cliques, but looking at France makes you wonder if faction fights really have much to do with a nation crumbling.
- Aren't they fighting like mad dogs and letting their country fade too?
If France is fading, what country in the world is thriving?
- They could have lived even better but blew their chance? That vibe?
This was a novel experience.
The jar ghost wasn't human to begin with, so its resolution on worldly affairs was a bit low. It wasn't disinterested, but it felt somewhat out of touch with the ways of the world.
Usually, I'd cynically think "realistically," while the ghost spouted naive, beastly optimism, but today the flow was reversed.
France's political landscape was a total mess.
Conflicts between royalists and republicans, Paris and the provinces, liberals and socialists, Bonapartists and Orléanists, Catholics and anticlericals—endless.
The rhetoric from modern coup leaders who seize power is always similar.
Our society is too chaotic; we need a strong leader!
The country's a wreck, so I'll take the reins and unite it!
This fake Napoleon might just be the archetype for such modern coups.
Anyway, the guy who staged a coup in Paris by shelling republican "rioters" must be starving for public support. Meaning French foreign policy could flip entirely.
The Second Opium War was still raging excitedly on the far side of the globe, with Britain and France allied against the vile Qing, yet here they were venting openly. True to form, the French had no concept of loyalty.
How international dynamics would shift, or how the new Napoleon III era would secure fresh colonies.
These weren't my worries.
What mattered most to me was...
"What do you think of this young lady?"
"I know just the nice person. Let me introduce you!"
Marriage.
Before, I'd run wild backed by the British Empire's prestige, but henceforth, I'd be doing business in Joseon for at least a few years.
Joseon people don't treat unmarried bachelors as adults.
No matter what, I had to marry. They might even earnestly urge me to take a Joseon concubine. Marriage first.
I'd only mentioned looking for a bride at the club, but somehow all of London was buzzing with matching gossip. Driving me mad.
"Who? Who do you have in mind?"
My sister Violet, whom I hadn't seen in ages, was burning with determination to pick someone perfect for me.
"Well, anyone decent would be nice."
"That's what everyone wants. Be more specific."
"Someone from a wealthy family would be good. Business connections would be ideal."
"A family tied to Far East ventures. Anything else?"
"Pretty, if possible."
"And?"
"Someone willing to live with me in the Far East—"
"...The difficulty just spiked."
Can't be helped. To widen my room to maneuver, I needed to lock down the ladies' salons via the wife.
But the world was a madhouse.
This damn world always leaped past my expectations, shouting, "Ha! More novel than a novel!"
Palmerston had done it.
He'd actually fired on his own Whig Party members, toppling the cabinet. My sympathies to Lord Granville, ousted after a mere three months.
And one more thing.
[Found someone to marry.]
[Rich widow.]
News from Liverpool.
Could Daniel have signed a slave contract like me and been dragged to 19th-century Britain too?