Chapter 110
Chapter 110
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: First Potsdam-Whitehall Crisis (5)
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"Did things go well?"
When I returned to the room, Theresa was leaning back against the sofa, gazing at me.
"Yeah, don't get up. Just stay sitting."
Now truly in the final stages of pregnancy, she had drastically cut back on the work she loved so much lately, and she looked utterly bored.
That's what you get for being a workaholic... I love that she takes so much off my plate, but she needs to rest when it's time to rest.
"Kaunitz will handle the rest. The other ambassadors all agreed."
"What about Robinson?"
"He said he'll look into it. He owes me a lot, so he'll pull out all the stops to grant that favor."
"Hmm... But in the end, you're the one planning to stir up chaos in the British Parliament. They actually listened to you?"
Hey now, chaos? It's the virtue of democracy to engage in healthy debate and explore better options.
Just as I was wondering if I needed to explain a bit more, she snapped her fingers with a sharp click.
"Ah~ So that's why you egged on Friedrich to attack the Netherlands? To make Britain see Hanover as a weakness."
"...Huh?"
"Mm-hmm, that was it. Even if the prime minister changes, the next one—and the king's inner circle—won't be able to abandon Hanover. That'll build resentment among the younger politicians. You'll fan those flames to sow discord in Britain's Parliament. And Friedrich using Hanover to blackmail Britain? That's to maximize the effect."
She had already solved the puzzle I'd painstakingly pieced together in my head. This level of deduction without any real clues?
"Honestly, I was wondering if you even had a plan, or if Friedrich had just gone off the rails. But as expected, you're the best. I'm still got a long way to go. Once the second one's born, I'll have to study even harder."
She'd said she trusted me before... but deep down, she must've had her doubts.
Still, glad we got past it smoothly.
"...Theresa, Europe is like a dense forest where everyone's interests are tangled up in complicated ways. Up close, it's hard to tell which path to take. You need to cultivate the habit of viewing it from a macro perspective, connecting the interests of all the nations."
"Got it. I'll keep that in mind. A macro view..."
Hmm. When your student's too sharp, all you can do is dodge with vague platitudes...
I worried what I'd do when she saw through my bag of tricks someday, but I could probably muddle through with my future knowledge.
The heart of a man who wants to forever be the reliable husband in front of the woman he loves... it's tough!
As I gave her more details on my talk with Robinson, her eyes grew increasingly serious while she sipped lukewarm water.
"So at this stage, the only way we can effectively pressure Britain is through internal subversion?"
"Exactly. No other realistic options."
"Assuming a military clash, you're saying we couldn't beat Britain? Even after kneeling France in six weeks?"
"If we're talking odds of winning, I'd say zero percent flat out. Of course, that doesn't mean we'd lose outright."
Theresa had gotten really sharp on politics and diplomacy, but her grasp of military matters was still lacking.
She'd never focused on it, which was natural, but for her growth, I needed to lay out the current situation clearly and outline our long-term strategy.
"On land, Britain is no match for us anymore. We'd win 99 out of 100 fights. But at sea? We'd lose all 100 times. Their navy outnumbers ours by dozens to one. Our strong army couldn't even touch them."
"Conversely, they could only blockade us at sea—they couldn't occupy our cities?"
"Right. So it'd just end with massive economic damage on both sides."
"Couldn't you put in some effort and build ships stronger than Britain's? Like you did with the guns."
How incredible does my wife think I am?
Sorry, but if it were that easy, I would've already turned Britain—and America—into Holy Roman soil.
"Ships and guns are different beasts. I'm not saying I have no ideas. But building a navy takes an enormous amount of time."
What good are 200 tanks if you've only got three dropships?
Austria's coastal guard was a joke compared to a real navy, and even France—with its proper fleet—couldn't breach Britain's wall, despite Napoleon bleeding himself dry and dragging in Spain.
Say I poured my soul into developing a warship superior to Britain's.
Even then, training sailors to crew it is a whole other story.
"What if we successfully annex Venice?"
"That's the bare minimum prerequisite. Without it, we can't even start."
"Hmm... Sounds like it'll take a lot of time."
The good news? Theresa didn't say something naive like, "Why not just stay on the continent and forget the seas?"
She knew it too.
A nation must grow continuously, and growth demands an ever-expanding reach.
For now, unifying the Holy Roman Empire took priority, pushing naval ambitions back. But once that's done, we'd have to push out to the oceans.
The key was ensuring Britain didn't see us as their main enemy until then. That's why we were cultivating allies inside Britain—at high levels, no less.
"Hope Ambassador Robinson finds the right person."
"This crisis has made a lot of people aware of the problems. Should be plenty of candidates."
"Yeah. If they've got talent, we can boost them without drawing attention. Have Wertheimer launder money through Jewish capital networks in Britain and funnel it as campaign funds. Elections are a system where money wins anyway."
She hits me with that out of nowhere—what am I supposed to say?
But by 18th-century standards, it's undeniable fact. And it suits me perfectly, so no reason not to adopt it.
"Then let's wait and see what fine bait Robinson reels in."
Rushing to swallow everything leads to choking.
My top priority was unifying the Empire.
In the end, this whole plan hinged on my acting skills—how convincingly I could show my obsession with the European continent.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Excuse me. A draft of the treaty to be signed at the Hague Conference has arrived."
"Ah, really? Hand it over."
Walpole tore open the tightly sealed envelope and pulled out the stack of documents.
He already knew what they said.
Immediate cessation of hostilities.
Spain offers sincere apologies instead of reparations.
Prussia secures trade privileges from the Netherlands and withdraws.
In reality, Austria gained the most from this treaty, followed by Prussia. Britain had clearly taken a loss.
Despite a decisive early victory over Spain, they'd abandoned the gains it promised.
Because they weren't ready to abandon the Netherlands.
And whenever such a frustrating outcome arose, the MPs would inevitably turn on each other.
"Prime Minister! How do you take responsibility for this?!"
"Responsibility my foot! Did I push for war with Spain? I tried to stop it!"
"You should've stopped it harder!"
"Then go advise His Majesty yourself!"
"Elections are right around the corner—how do we ask voters to grade this pathetic report card?!"
"Ha! I'm resigning regardless of the outcome, so figure it out yourselves!"
Is this the level of the British House of Commons?
He'd only been there a short time, but he'd already sized it up.
It was so pathetic he wanted to die.
War with Spain hadn't been the wrong choice.
Their citizens had been mistreated—plenty of justification.
Pressuring a fading second-rate power like Spain would solidify dominance in the New World, paving the way for colonial expansion.
The prime minister's focus on consolidating North America and India had merit, but if they were stepping on Spain, they should've crushed it thoroughly.
How had mighty Great Britain caved to mere Prussian threats and accepted this mediation?
Austria had walked away with a haul just for agreeing to mediate.
Without overreaching, they'd cherry-picked prime assets: foundations in India and key Mediterranean trade hubs.
That's how politics and diplomacy should be played.
But these old fogeys treated every nation the same.
"We should've just pressured Prussia!"
"Ridiculous! What if Hanover actually got occupied? Try flapping your mouth like that in front of His Majesty!"
"Isn't convincing His Majesty your job as prime minister?"
"Then become prime minister yourself and give it a shot."
Why was Great Britain suddenly so pathetic?
Because a senile old prime minister had run the country alone for 20 years.
He'd been respectable once, but clinging to outdated policies in a changed era only led to falling behind.
Look at surging Austria: young King Franz of Germany at the helm. Even Prussia, unbowed by British pressure, thrived endlessly under young King Friedrich.
Meanwhile, France—still led by an aged cardinal as prime minister—suffered humiliating defeats, squandering its title as Europe's strongest power.
The results proved it.
Reality showed it.
This country's politicians needed to change.
Walpole stepping down wouldn't cut it.
After him, John Carteret—the king's favorite—and Whig heavyweight Henry Pelham would dominate.
"Prime Minister! Don't you know quitting so irresponsibly is a burden on those left behind?"
"Burden? You lot stirring up 'Whigs only thrive if the PM steps down'—that's the real burden!"
Neither had hit 50 yet, but as creatures of the Walpole era, their minds were already rigid.
Carteret especially clung to power by whispering in the king's ear.
Just look at him frothing at the mouth over defending Hanover this time—couldn't you see exactly how he'd run things?
Coldly put: forget Hanover—who cares if it's occupied? Smash Prussia's ports, and Friedrich would've folded under pressure.
No matter how mighty their army, not one soldier could set foot here—what use was that?
With such absolute superiority, Britain was shackling itself over trivial Hanover.
Ignore Hanover. Secure more colonies, more profits from across the oceans.
William Pitt, the 32-year-old youth, ground his teeth, glaring at the old men still bickering.
But realistically, he lacked the power.
Despite the elite path from Eton to Oxford, his youth and commoner roots held him back.
Money flowed like water, but options for it remained limited.
To him came...
"William Pitt, it's young, visionary men like you who can reform this nation's politics. Won't you join us to change Britain?"
"You..."
"We're the Patriotic Youth Society. Sponsored by Ambassador Robert in Vienna. We believe Great Britain must pursue more colonies! Vast overseas territories!"
It was like fate—a heavenly hand descending.
"I'd love to hear more... Could I meet Ambassador Robert?"
"Why not visit Vienna? If he recommends you as an MP, Parliament will approve gladly."
No reason to hesitate.
William Pitt boarded the ship.
To change his beloved homeland.