Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: First Anglo-Spanish Crisis (3)
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Several years ago now, during a routine inspection of a British merchant ship, the Spanish cut off the ear of the captain named Jenkins as a threat.
One might wonder how a mere threat and severing an ear could be mentioned in the same breath, but by 18th-century standards, it was entirely within the realm of acceptable corporal punishment.
Even after news of this shocking incident spread, Britain quietly swept it under the rug.
Prime Minister Walpole wanted to minimize foreign conflicts as much as possible.
But within his own Whig Party, there were anti-Walpole factions eager to push him out.
The patriotic Whigs, as the anti-prime minister group was called, shouted that the Whigs could only hold onto power if they ousted the prime minister, who had been racking up blunder after blunder.
In the end, the rising star William Pitt dragged the Jenkins affair into Parliament, and British anti-Spanish sentiment erupted like a volcano.
"When did we ever start kowtowing to Spain! Our citizens' ears are being unjustly severed, and you want to cover it up just to avoid unnecessary foreign disputes? I declare with certainty: this is not justice!"
"Hooray!"
"Pitt's right! Has the prime minister no pride?!"
In an era when Britain had begun viewing Spain as clearly inferior, simply letting the severing of a British subject's ear slide was an unacceptable humiliation.
As public opinion boiled over, Walpole eventually dispatched six warships to the Caribbean as a sop to the masses.
He naively thought a bit of saber-rattling would calm the public down.
But then...
"I hear the prime minister is caving to Spain. Is that true?"
"Pardon? Your Majesty... surely not! It's not fear of Spain—it's that unnecessary wars burden the national treasury too heavily, as you know."
"Finances are a concern, to be sure, but isn't national pride hitting rock bottom an even bigger problem?"
Walpole felt like he was going mad.
'Damn it, man! Is this the time for war?!'
War itself was fine, but there had to be something juicy to gain from it. What could they possibly extract from Spain in the current situation?
But why now, of all times?
With France having been thoroughly thrashed by Austria, shouldn't they be solidifying their positions in India and the North American colonies?
"Your Majesty, to be blunt, Spain is no longer a rival to the home country. They're barely holding onto what they have, while our true competitor is France..."
"Sigh... Prime Minister. Didn't those French surrender to Austria in just six weeks?"
"That was because of Austria's high-performance new weapons..."
He had no idea why he was defending France, but every day was just infuriating.
To top it off, even within his own party, clueless fools were saying the prime minister should take responsibility, piling on his stress.
In the end, with a "whatever happens, happens" mindset, he buckled under pressure from the king and the Privy Council and agreed to declare war on Spain.
[The British Empire will not tolerate Spain's arrogant aggression against our innocent citizens. His Majesty the King of the British Empire and His Majesty's Parliament solemnly declare that we will hold Spain formally accountable for refusing compensation and an official apology.] Fine. Now that it's come to this, he could only pray for a victory with minimal losses.
Whether fortunate or unfortunate, Britain's opening salvo ended in an overwhelming triumph.
Spain, true to its reputation as the gatekeeper of the great powers, crumbled helplessly before the true heavyweight Britain, leaving the British thrilled with their own might.
But the day for nationalistic euphoria ended right there.
"Prime Minister! Prussia! Prussia has crossed the Dutch border and clashed with the garrison!"
"...What the hell is that? Why Prussia?"
"They claim the Netherlands has been engaging in ongoing trade interference..."
"Tell them to cut the bullshit!"
That madman Frederick II, who had picked a fight with Bavaria before, was now targeting the Netherlands?
Why the hell had Austria exported advanced weapons to that lunatic colt and caused this mess?
"Honorable members of Parliament, Prussia's invasion of the Netherlands must not escalate into full war. We must all pool our wisdom..."
"No, Prime Minister! We're already at war with Spain—how can we worry about Prussia too?!"
"Exactly! We should have handled Spain more carefully!"
"If the Netherlands falls, maritime insurance premiums and bond prices will tank immediately! How do you plan to take responsibility for that?!"
Why the hell should I take responsibility, you idiots?
Suppressing the urge to scream it out loud, the prime minister steeled himself.
The next election was hanging by a thread anyway. Once the Prussia-Netherlands crisis blew over, he'd just step down from this godforsaken post.
He couldn't stomach it anymore.
The life-threatening stress was enough to crush even his lust for power.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Your Majesty! This reaction is far too excessive!"
Britain, receiving the Netherlands' plea for aid, immediately ordered its ambassador in Berlin to meet with Frederick.
"What exactly is excessive about it?"
Frederick gladly accepted the request.
But acceptance aside, he let the British ambassador's protests go in one ear and out the other.
Naturally, the frustrated ones were the British.
The daily average bill settlements between London and Amsterdam amounted to £600,000.
A quarter of Britain's annual maritime insurance revenue came from the North Sea and Baltic routes.
Factoring in the £12 million in mutual government bonds they held, it went beyond urgency straight into rage.
The Spanish war was already straining finances; if the Netherlands collapsed, the London financial district would plunge into panic.
With regular elections looming, failing to resolve this could split Parliament and spark a civil war blaming him.
"The Netherlands is essentially a nation of merchants living off commerce, isn't it? They might have overdone their trade restrictions since it's a matter of survival for them. But responding with military force is too harsh."
"Our country also sees commerce as our future lifeline. In other words, the Netherlands has put a knife to our future."
Had Prussia's Junkers suddenly gone into business or something? What nonsense was this?
Anyone could see it was a pretext, but what could they do when Frederick planned to do it anyway?
"If the Netherlands suffers, we take serious damage too. If this spreads long-term, we'll have no choice but to intervene."
"Oh ho, intervene? Does that mean your splendid navy plans to blockade our ports? I hear you're at war with Spain?"
"...This is in no way a threat to your country. It means our losses are so massive we're considering every option."
"I'll throw the same logic back at you. A blockade would inflict massive damage on us too. It could get so bad we'd feel like marching on Hanover."
Britain's overwhelming naval power had always kept enemies from its shores.
That was why they optimistically believed they could at least hold their own against France, Europe's strongest, no matter how it rampaged.
But Prussia was different.
It was one of the few nations that could target Britain's continental vulnerabilities.
The current British king, George II, was also Elector of Hanover and spent considerable time there.
He stayed in London for the seven months of sessions, then retreated to his Hanoverian homeland under the guise of vacation. Prussia's army could reach Hanover by land.
Frankly, Britain proper wouldn't care if Hanover got smashed, but King George II would throw a fit, so they couldn't just brush it off.
"...Your Majesty, do you really intend full-scale war with the Netherlands? We could persuade them to pay reparations."
"If they offer terms that heal our wounds, I might consider it."
With that outlandish threat of charging into Hanover if blockaded, Britain couldn't easily play the intervention card.
It wasn't at war with Spain for nothing—antagonizing Prussia on top would burden Britain too heavily.
In the end, the negotiations ended fruitlessly.
Hearing the news, Walpole seriously considered requesting immediate dissolution of Parliament.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ While Britain floundered against Prussia's runaway ambitions grown too big for its britches...
Vienna's atmosphere remained blissfully serene.
"Grant that Archduchess Theresa may bear a son!"
"Amen!"
"Hey, didn't Archduchess Theresa say not to speculate on the baby's gender?"
"Oh, right! Lord! Protect Archduchess Theresa for a healthy delivery!"
"Ammeeen!"
Prussia had crossed the Dutch border, but that paled next to Archduchess Theresa's imminent second childbirth right around the corner.
If it was a boy this time, it would be an unparalleled blessing for the Empire.
Of course, a girl wouldn't be a huge disappointment.
Theresa was still young, and her love with Franz was deep—they could keep trying until a son came along.
But that was the common folk's view. The mood in the Hofburg Palace was anything but relaxed.
First, the Dutch ambassador clung to my trouser leg.
"Your Highness! Only Austria can rein in Prussia! Please stop their rampage!"
"We're in close talks with the Prussian ambassador right now. Please wait a bit, and we'll convey our position once it's sorted."
Next up was the whining Spanish ambassador.
"Your Highness, you know full well Britain unjustly declared war on us! We desperately need Austria's support!"
"Hmm... This is such a delicate case."
Maritime enforcement was a legitimate right, and harsh actions during inspections weren't unusual in this era.
But Spain had gone overboard, and Britain using it as a pretext for war was thuggish.
Still, Britain being thugs was nothing new—it was just another 18th-century sideshow.
Fortunately for me, the War of Jenkins' Ear had erupted much like in original history.
"Even so, Spain is an important partner, so I'll see what I can do."
"...Pardon? Really?"
"Of course. Just remember I pulled strings for you."
"Naturally! His Majesty will never forget Your Highness's efforts."
After sending off the Spanish ambassador, the French one showed up babbling nonsense about whether they should hit the Netherlands too, so I told him to buzz off.
You lot need to smack Britain first—your turn hasn't come yet.
The grand finale, last but not least, was the British Empire's ambassador—and my close friend—Ambassador Robinson.
It had been quite a while since we'd met alone, and he looked like he'd lost more weight from the stress.
"Things must be rough back home."
"...You have no idea. Talk of dissolving Parliament is in the air, and the mood is ugly. If the current prime minister steps down and a new cabinet forms, even I don't know what'll happen to me."
"You'll be fine, Ambassador. You stand to earn merits again this time."
"...Pardon? What do you mean?"
"The Netherlands headache, right? How about bundling it with the Spanish war for a single resolution?"
Collect mediation fees from the Netherlands for "saving" them from Prussia's clutches, and from Spain for halting the English pirate raids.
Of course, the British wouldn't comply easily, so dangle the carrot: end the Spanish war, and we'll soothe Prussia in the Dutch affair.
In truth, this whole mess—from Spain-Britain tensions escalating to war—was part of my grand design...
Yeah, I'll sell it to Theresa that way.
"In return, I've been upholding Britain's honor repeatedly, so lend me a hand next time I need a favor."
"Absolutely! By the way, Prussia... I just can't fathom their thinking. Have they decided to go wild now that they have power?"
"Tell me about it. I'm regretting selling them weapons, but what can you do? Prussia's king is a nightmare enemy—we'd rather keep him close."
Subtly planting wariness of Frederick, Robinson nodded naturally.
Successfully instilling the fear that Prussia could target Hanover anytime—this would weigh on his mind.
The more distracted elsewhere, the deeper France's dagger would plunge from an unexpected angle.
All things considered, even if everything deviated from plan, the goal of drawing aggro was achieved.
It might be a tad excessive, but better that way.
Now every nation in Europe knows how much our potato overlord loves striking first, right?
Never, ever show Prussia your back.
You never know when Frederick's devilish claws might strike.