Chapter 119
Chapter 119
Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: The Polish Crisis
Saxon Elector and King of Poland-Lithuania Augustus III had been plagued by nightmares far more frequently of late.
Not just nightmares, either. Unless he grabbed whatever came to hand—booze or smokes—he could scarcely suppress the gnawing anxiety.
'Damn it... why the hell am I in this mess?'
The Electorate of Saxony was a venerable electorate that had endured from the 14th century through the 18th, spanning a full four centuries.
It was the birthplace of the Reformation, and before Brandenburg rose to prominence, it had served as a steadfast protector of the Protestants.
But the Saxony of today had lost every shred of its former glory.
The War of the Polish Succession had broadcast that fact to the world at large.
The Saxon Elector couldn't even secure the Polish throne without permission from Russia or Austria—and even after becoming king, little had changed.
Russia kept troops stationed in the east to monitor Poland in effect, while the Polish nobles treated the Saxon Elector as little more than a figurehead king.
—Our Polish nobles will safeguard the Golden Liberty to the bitter end. Poland is our nobles' country, not Saxony's!
—It's all well and good to solidify noble prerogatives, but for Poland to grow stronger on its own, we need to scrap backward privileges like the liberum veto. As long as we cling to unanimity, Poland will never manage real reforms. How long do you plan to hug the relics of a bygone age?
Poland-Lithuania stood sharply divided between the Czartoryskis, who championed reform, and the Potockis, who vowed to defend the Golden Liberty.
Yet for all their differences in direction, both factions shared an unshakable belief that the nobility must remain at the heart of Poland-Lithuania.
Augustus III had lost all affection for Poland entirely. He barricaded himself in Saxony, paying no heed whatsoever to Polish matters.
But then.
—Bavaria and the Palatinate Electorates stripped of all status, territories confiscated and redistributed.
—Franz Stefan elected King of the Romans; Serbian Archbishop named new elector.
The sound of the empire's centuries-old order being uprooted at the roots reverberated.
—Prussia invades the Netherlands! Britain rejects mediation proposal!
—Austria succeeds in mediating the war, secures expansion of Mediterranean and Adriatic trade routes. Austria's momentum swells by the day.
The empire's atmosphere was shifting beyond what even Saxony, hunkered in the northeast, could influence.
Austria, mighty enough to crush France with ease.
Prussia, grown so bold it ignored Britain's mediation offer and threatened to shove Hanover aside in retaliation.
The Bavarian Electorate, faded into the dusty byways of history, unworthy of the house that had once produced an emperor.
And now, fresh principalities folding into the empire's embrace, squawking "Austria rules, Your Highness Franz, we love you~" like so many parrots.
In the span of mere years, events had piled up relentlessly, rendering the future impossible to predict even one step ahead.
Those like the Saxon Elector, whose houses had clearly passed their zenith, found themselves forced to tread ever more cautiously.
After all, nothing guaranteed they wouldn't end up like Bavaria or the Palatinate.
"Your Highness, I've obtained the information you requested. Britain and Spain have agreed to turn a blind eye to Austria's strike on Genoa."
"...They're just letting it slide?"
"Austria isn't fully annexing Genoa—only peeling off the island of Corsica, or so they've agreed. Genoa itself will join the empire's order as an independent principality, not Austrian soil."
"Still changes nothing. It's an Austrian puppet state in all but name."
Heinrich von Brühl, the true power behind the Saxon Electorate and Augustus III's right-hand man, nodded with a bitter smile.
"As Your Highness says. But there's a world of difference between outright annexation and de facto vassalage."
"Austria's scheming to gobble up the empire piecemeal—that much is obvious! Just look at Bavaria and the Palatinate!"
"Your Highness, if I may overstep... Bavaria and the Palatinate more or less self-destructed. Most princes feel no pity for them."
"True enough. Still..."
That utter moron Karl Albrecht.
Strutting around like he was the smartest man in the room, only to immolate himself and boost Austria's prestige even higher.
If not for that fool, Austria would've had no cause for war with France—no myth of the six-week Paris occupation.
A good chunk of why Austria steamrolls everything now traces back to him.
Powerful emperor. Overwhelming army. The thrill of victory.
Austria had delivered everything the Holy Roman Empire's citizens had hungered for across long years—and hadn't even hoarded the spoils.
So no matter how some princes muttered "this feels off," no one paid them any mind.
But things couldn't keep going like this.
"Prussia... Austria. Russia. All three are headaches. Count Brühl, in your view, which poses the gravest threat to us right now?"
"Austria's locked onto expanding Mediterranean trade routes, so they won't spare us a glance. Russia wants Poland as its buffer zone as ever but will keep squeezing us. Prussia, though... that's the terrifying one."
"Agreed. Friedrich's a complete enigma. Unpredictable—that's what makes him so damn scary."
Russia and Austria were formidable, but at least you could predict their moves to a degree and hold some dialogue.
Friedrich, though? Brutally strong, utterly incomprehensible, actions beyond forecasting. Small wonder it drove neighbors up the wall.
Who could've dreamed he'd abruptly invade the Netherlands and thumb his nose at Britain's mediation bid?
Much of Augustus III's frantic maneuvering stemmed from none other than Friedrich's unpredictability.
As Count Brühl—who effectively shouldered Saxony's administration—opened his mouth to reply, Dresden councilors filed into the audience chamber, where only the two men had been.
"Your Highness, we heard you summoned us."
"Indeed. Count Brühl, I've given it much thought, and I believe Saxony's path to survival lies in emulating Brandenburg's precedent."
"By Brandenburg's example, do you mean a policy of military buildup?"
"Precisely. At bare minimum, with real military might, Russia and Friedrich won't dare look down on us. Realistically, though, Saxony's scale makes even sustaining 20,000 standing troops a stretch."
Maximum mobilization could top 30,000, but only by scraping the absolute bottom of the barrel.
"Brandenburg pulled off a national power surge by doubling as King in Prussia. Surely we could stand to learn from that?"
"You mean... fully merging Poland into Saxony?"
"Your Highness! We understand your mindset, but the risks are far too great."
"Do you think Russia or Prussia will stand idly by?"
Brühl and the councilors recoiled, but Augustus III remained unyielding.
Unless they acted boldly like this, the daily surge of dread—that they might trail Bavaria or the Palatinate—left them no choice.
"Annexing Poland alone would let us double the standing army. Poland's flimsiness stems from those noble scum's petty refusal to yield an inch of their own."
"But will annexing Poland prove as simple as all that?"
"Poland's cleaved between reformers and conservatives right now, no? Sidle up to the reformers, promise them the moon—a constitutional monarchy in a united Saxony-Poland Kingdom, maximally safeguarding noble interests. Tempt them with that?"
"...Pardon?"
"All talk, of course. Once we've seized military command, we roll in the army and crush them. Done."
The councilors gaped at the proposal, which defied all common sense.
Still, when the top dog barked, what choice did they have but obey?
Bowing deeply, they filed from the room—then sighed and shook their heads.
"His Highness must be deeply anxious."
— Inner thought Augustus III's finally snapped. Thank God we're hitched to Prussia. Gotta report this to His Majesty Friedrich pronto. "Quite. But isn't bolstering His Highness precisely our duty at a time like this?"
— Inner thought Betting everything on Augustus III will drag our house down with him. Better jump to Russia while we can. "Absorbing Poland would certainly let us swell the standing army to 40 or 50,000, wouldn't it? At that point, no need to fear Russia or Prussia. Haha..."
— Inner thought As if that'll fly. Time to dispatch a courier to Her Highness Theresia posthaste. Divergent dreams. Around Augustus III, whose impatience had peaked, his circle had already splintered—each scrambling for their own lifeline.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Mm-hmm."
"Hm-mmm."
I'd mused that some fitting distraction would be nice to bridge the time until Genoa grew to my vision.
But wasn't this patch a bit too aggressive?
What in the world had Augustus III eaten to start yammering about gobbling Poland whole?
Just a few years back, this clown had groveled before me because he couldn't even snag the Polish throne properly. Absorbing Poland outright? In what universe?
Theresia said verifying the report had taken time because it sounded so utterly absurd.
But that just meant it checked out as fact. Scary stuff.
"Saxony's cozying up to Czartoryski, promising a constitutional monarchy for Poland?"
"Mm-hmm. No real intent to follow through, of course—just a desperate Hail Mary."
"And if they balk?"
"Slap 'em with rebellion charges and send in the army?"
True to form—a false-flag op to pin the crime on Poland, then invade. A time-honored German tradition.
Saxony proving itself a bona fide German player brought such a swell of patriotic pride I could almost shed a tear.
"They can't seriously think Russia or Prussia will sit still. What's their counterplan?"
"None."
"Still digging?"
"Nope... genuinely none. They've got their rationale, though: Austria's obsessed with Genoa and won't notice in time; Prussia's tied up with the Netherlands; Russia's pouring everything into its new Black Sea holdings. Now or never—that's their thinking."
I sighed wordlessly, and Theresia flashed a wry smile, clucking her tongue.
"Pathetic softies. Softer than yesterday's chocolate meringue cake. But it's done now—what's our move?"
"Tough call. We need to gauge Russia's reaction first... shame the picture's already clear."
Theresia mulled my words for a moment.
Saxony might've fancied their moves covert, but with Austria onto them, Russia had to be seething to the scalp by now, weighing responses.
Saxony belonged to the Holy Roman Empire; Poland-Lithuania did not.
Factor in that nuance and the Russia-Prussia-Austria triangle, and one conclusion emerged naturally.
"...Friedrich'll be over the moon when he hears."
"Wouldn't shock me if the troops are already mobilizing."
As predicted. The very next day, Friedrich sent Theresia his next chess move.
"Knight advances to strike the rook."
A prearranged cipher for deploying the promised forces.
Poland was fated once more to become the great powers' playground.