Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: Genoa Principality
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Pitt, who had returned home from Vienna brimming with tremendous inspiration, patiently bided his time.
If he had his way, he would have shouted at the top of his lungs for the British people to unite as one and build a vast maritime empire right then and there.
But every affair in this world followed its natural course.
Why else would Franz Stefan, who harbored such grand ambitions within, still be lying low even now?
Because matters like this couldn't be forced through from the top alone.
Only when public fervor, societal awareness, and national policy aligned perfectly could the old, rotten order be toppled.
Rather than blundering in recklessly here and risking the loss of his parliamentary seat, it was better to feign compliance with those old fogeys for now while quietly honing his blade.
Fortunately, thanks to the endorsement from Ambassador Robinson, who enjoyed thick trust in Parliament, Pitt's opportunities to meet with the Whig Party's heavyweights had suddenly multiplied.
"Hoho, just as Ambassador Robinson said. Your insight will prove most helpful. Stick by my side and share plenty more good ideas from here on out."
"Of course. For someone of my background to serve the nation, it only makes sense to become a trusted aide to a figure like you, Lord Pelham."
Though the House of Commons was open to commoners too, everyone knew the real power lay entirely in the hands of those from noble families.
Even Henry Pelham, a leading light of the Whigs, was none other than the second son of the Pelham baronet family.
Without noble blood, one had at least to be a member of the gentry with ties to the aristocracy to build any real influence in the Commons.
No matter how wealthy, a commoner MP like Pitt still faced a glass ceiling of birth that was hard to shatter.
But after his trip to Vienna, that stifling situation had suddenly eased. This was the power of connections.
Pathetic as it was, that's how the world turned—what could he do?
To change the world, he had no choice but to grovel flat or roll like a dog until he built up enough strength.
"Truth be told, the King and his close aides don't care much for you. You know that, right?"
Pitt nodded obediently at Pelham, who struck at his bones with a friendly smile.
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
No matter how much they tried to hide it, a spike would poke through. The arguments of young politicians like Pitt were thorns in the eyes of the old guard.
How could anyone watch those fools cling to Hanover at great cost and not criticize them?
The problem was that those fools held key positions of power, and the King was one of them.
"On my trip to Vienna, I had many talks with Ambassador Robinson that opened my eyes. I have no intention of spouting immature nonsense like before."
"Good, good. I sensed as much just now."
"Hanover is like the wedge that gives us legitimate grounds to meddle in the Holy Roman Empire's internal affairs. That said, with our current land forces, there's no way to stop them head-on. We need a more cunning, subtle approach—that's my view."
"Hm. If His Majesty shares that opinion, he'll come around."
Pelham, a shoo-in for Prime Minister next, naturally couldn't ignore his ties to the King.
But if you thought about it, it was laughable.
What did Britain gain by meddling in the Holy Roman Empire's internal squabbles?
Sure, it sounded nice, but was there any real profit to squeeze out of it?
Bluntly put, did they seriously think they could beat Prussia, let alone Austria, on land?
One misstep, and they'd be endlessly pouring water into a bottomless flowerpot. Those men knew it full well, yet petty pride blinded them to reality.
Fine, then. He'd just play along with the filth.
Before long, an event would erupt that would force even them to feel the nation's true path.
"Pitt, so you're saying it's true that Austria won't fully annex Genoa?"
"Absolutely. Franz Stefan, whom I met in person, isn't the type to lie. And he takes immense pride in his future as Holy Roman Emperor."
"What does that have to do with not fully annexing Genoa?"
"It's like how he turned the Balkan states into principalities rather than annexing them outright. He's an emperor elevated by countless princes—just like the emperors of old called 'king of kings.' He yearns to reign supreme in his own world. To savor that imperial thrill, his supporters need to hold near-kingly status."
"That makes a certain sense..."
Pelham listened closely because he needed to know for sure whether Austria would turn Genoa into Austrian territory or fold it into the Empire as a principality.
The previous PM, Walpole, had always misread Austria-related matters, so proving otherwise would easily set him apart.
Pitt planned to solidify his position by fully satisfying Pelham's needs.
Of course, even if the outcome was the same, he slyly twisted the rationale.
Franz's true reason for making Genoa a principality was, naturally, to forge a true German Empire—nothing else.
Those who saw only short-term couldn't grasp the depth of that cunning ploy.
To avoid becoming a smug fool like them, he had to observe and learn such power plays.
True to his deal, Pitt faithfully carried out Franz's request while gradually expanding his presence back home.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 1740, June.
As the Habsburg army's vanguard crossed the river and approached Genoa, the city plunged into chaos.
Genoa's power was divided into three main pillars: the new nobles based on finance, the old nobles rooted in the shipyards, and the alliance of 28 guilds run by wealthy commoners.
Among them, the new nobles and merchant guilds urged conditional surrender first—hear the terms.
"We mustn't fire a single shell! The harsher we make it, the tougher their demands will be."
"Right! Every shell, every bullet costs money. Spending it all and still losing the war—what could be stupider?"
Genoa had long funded its army—land or sea—almost entirely through loans.
With 40 or 50 percent of their assets already mortgaged, war with Austria?
Over half the Genoese nobles would go bankrupt.
The merchants wept blood over skyrocketing prices and plummeting asset values in real time.
By sheer numbers, surrender seemed the better bet—that opinion dominated.
Not everyone agreed unanimously, of course.
"Hand over the country without a fight? Have you ever seen such traitors!"
"The proud honor of our military is the honor of our houses! Surrender before battle—what nonsense is this!"
Families like Doria and Grimaldi, who had sustained their lines on tradition, couldn't afford to tuck tail now—it would crumble their foundations. They led the war faction.
Yet even they had no real desire to fight Austria.
'We're screwed...'
'They won't actually make us fight, will they? Someone stop this!'
'Just in case, I should write to Austria guaranteeing our family privileges.'
Genoa's current forces: three frigates and four galleys.
Inland garrison: barely 600, sent to quell the Corsican revolt.
Opposing them: 20,000 Austrian elites armed with the latest rifles.
Genoa's walls? Eighteen-century cannons would breach them in 15 minutes flat. They'd be massacred without firing a proper shot.
"Those calling for war—are you prepared to fight Austria on the front lines yourselves?!"
"Laying down one's life for the nation is a soldier's glory! We are ready!"
No, they weren't—not at all. Please spare us. Push harder so we can surrender.
The old nobles sweated, fearing someone might actually call their bluff, but luckily, the new nobles and bankers ignored the military and drafted a surrender petition.
Doria and Grimaldi could only pray Austria would offer terms preserving their last shred of face.
Just five days after news of the approaching Austrians spread.
The Genoese council delegated full authority to the Doge and resolved to proceed with surrender.
Karl's secret hope of at least issuing a firing order was dashed once more.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 📰 Breaking News [Not a Bullet Fired: Genoa Brought to Its Knees in Glorious Victory!] [Commander Karl Alexander Displays Imperial Dignity in Full!] [Genoa's Final Bow Before Imperial Glory—What Is Their Fate?] As soon as Genoa's de facto surrender became known, Vienna's newspapers hit the streets in a frenzy.
All Karl had done was set the mood and ride to the outskirts, but they'd treat it as upholding imperial prestige anyway.
Still, true to form as my brother, he shone in the aftermath.
To make coaxing Genoa easier, he summoned the merchant alliance leaders, assured them of no reprisals, and promised freer trade under Austrian protection.
He spared the nobles undue humiliation, only asking those who'd directly funded France to step down and take responsibility—so the nobles reacted well.
In simple terms, he'd given them the rationale that surrendering with white flags was the 'profitable' choice.
With my brother sowing the seeds, it was my turn to reap.
I promptly summoned Genoa's man in charge, Doge Spinola, to Vienna to wrap up negotiations.
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Genoa's Doge, Nicola Spinola."
"The pleasure's mine. Franz Stefan here. His Majesty the Emperor has granted me full authority for these talks, so let's seek a path to peace together."
"Indeed. I too hope our nations deepen their friendship."
"Apologies, but that's not possible. Laughing it off with a state that threatened our system would tarnish His Majesty's dignity. Regrettably, Genoa must pay the due price. That said, I intend to conclude this in a way that benefits Genoa as well."
"If I may... how can paying the price bring us profit?"
Genoa had endured for ages as an aristocratic oligarchy.
Over that time, the nobles had treated the city like their personal playground, rejecting any king lording over them.
Why share absolute power with one when dividing it among themselves was more lucrative? Natural enough.
But now, the time had come to yield what must be yielded.
They'd keep their houses intact—so entering under someone's rule should be tolerable, right? If not, I'd just oil up my Franz rifles a bit.
"First off, we have no intention of turning Genoa into Austrian territory. Ah, but as Karl Alexander mentioned, we do plan to liberate Corsica and make it Austrian."
Genoa, broke and undermanned, couldn't control the periodic Corsican revolts anyway.
In his past life, they'd sold it to France; this time, to me. Though I had no plans to pay for it.
Reparations would do just fine.
"...We have no strong objections to that."
"As for Genoa proper, we'd like you to join the Empire as a principality of the Holy Roman Empire. You'll face some restrictions on rights, but in exchange, you'll enjoy all privileges afforded to imperial princes."
"...But we're a republic..."
"Do as you like. Change the Doge title to Prince and elect one periodically—we won't interfere. However, as imperial princes, you must fulfill your duties and responsibilities."
No need to explain why becoming the Principality of Genoa beat Austrian Genoa hands down.
Spinola pondered briefly before cautiously speaking up.
"That said... you mentioned earlier this could benefit us too..."
"Simple. We'll help Genoa reclaim some of its past glory. Shall we start by sprucing up your army?"
"...Pardon?"
Spinola's eyes bulged, unable to follow. I drove in the clincher.
"All Your Excellency need do before your term ends is one small deviation. Genoa and Venice have long been rivals, haven't they?"
Now came the test.
Anyone perceptive and capable would grasp my intent and improvise a plan on the spot.
If he pulled it off, Spinola could wear the armband of Genoa's first prince.
"......"
"Feasible?"
"To do that, the citizens must fully embrace Genoa becoming an imperial principality, body and soul."
"Quite. So your performance matters, doesn't it?"
"True, but the old nobles will only obstruct. Even if we avoid purging them outright, we need psychological factors to tilt public sentiment pro-Austria."
Look at that? A man who rose to Doge thought differently from your average noble right from the start.
"So, what should I do?"
"We need proof that the old nobles preached total war openly while secretly begging Austria to protect their privileges."
The citizens fretted over being crushed by Austria, yet those nobles mouthed defiance while slipping on personal life vests? Steam would pour from their heads.
In fact, shrewd nobles had already cozied up to Karl, offering to trumpet for Austria if their wealth was spared.
"Even Christ said to put new wine in new wineskins. I'll speak to Karl, so take the evidence, Doge, and set it ablaze."
My Principality of Genoa had no use for outdated nobles.
Be the cornerstone for a new era, will you?
And Spinola—you pass.
I extended my hand to him as he bowed resolutely.
"Looking forward to working with you, Prince Spinola."
"...For Your Highness and Genoa, I shall fulfill my duty."
Genoa's last Doge and first prince. Spinola clasped my offered hand with deference.