Introduction to Continental Theory
As the sun fully set, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette ended the banquet and departed. The banquet hall transformed into a ballroom, where the second round—a dance—began. Diplomats below the minister level danced in the ballroom, while ambassadors retreated to the salon to extend their diplomatic skirmishes.
"Marquis, what on earth were you thinking?"
Count Giuseppe, the Sardinian minister, couldn't comprehend the incident that had just unfolded in the banquet hall.
"No matter how unjust it was, France is Europe's strongest power right now. Why bully the head chef? You know that's a diplomatic breach, don't you? What if Louis XVI had overheard you tormenting the chef?"
"It was meant for him to hear. I won't accept a treaty forced through threats like that."
"And what if we don't? What can we do about it? We're here to reclaim Savoy and Nice. Savoy is Sardinia's predecessor state. Our homeland has been breached!"
Marquis Andrea silently endured Count Giuseppe's scolding.
"Afraid to protest openly, so you vented on the head chef, who isn't even the lead negotiator. I lost my reason for a moment. I admit it. It was like a cowardly monkey. My fault."
"It's already done."
Unlike the anti-French alliance diplomats, British Ambassador George Germain wore a relaxed expression.
"My lord, tomorrow marks day 70 of the home island naval blockade. The courier reported on day 61: rotten fruit floats along the docks, and it's impossible to tell if the things drifting on the sea are wool cloth, ice floes, or just wave foam."
In truth, Britain had been the first among the Hundred Days War participants to rush to Paris. Chesapeake Bay naval battle, Yorktown surrender, Charleston fall, New York isolation, and now the home island blockade. Britain had been shattered from the opening moves.
Yet Britain still hadn't signed a peace treaty.
"My lord, could France have forgotten us?"
Because Louis XVI had forgotten them.
"They're taming us. They'll negotiate for real once we're desperate enough to give up our guts and gall."
Unaware of this, the British delegation dismissed the neglect as deliberate pressure and continued feigning composure.
"Not yet. Not yet. The British Empire can hold out. If the outcome is good, these 70 days of nothing won't be incompetence—they'll be patience."
British Ambassador Lord Germain steeled his resolve in his dispatch home: Holy Roman Empire-France peace treaty signed. No progress on treaty with home country.
In contrast to the anti-French alliance diplomats, pro-French envoys simply enjoyed the celebration. Peter Pauluus, the pro-French Dutch diplomat; Count Aranda, the Spanish ambassador to Paris; Marquis Cotinho, the Portuguese ambassador; and not just them, but embassy ministers, counselors, and secretaries—all savored the festivities.
"Ah! Isn't that Foreign Minister Count Mirabeau? Paris has so many fun things these days. Care for a game?"
"Sure. But I'm no longer a count."
"Ah, right—I keep forgetting. France abolished feudalism three years ago, after all."
They didn't dwell on it. Three years prior, during the purges, their distant relatives—sixth to eighth cousins—had been executed, but French noble corruption was infamous. They figured those kin had done something deserving of death.
They entered the salon and set up small Parisian amusements that had surged in popularity last year: countless board and card games.
"This card game's rules are odd. Doesn't the player with the emperor always have the advantage?"
"That's why the loss multiplier is five times. Drag out turns hoarding power, and eventually the militia stacks to 16 cards—you lose. It's realistic, no?"
French bourgeois, sourcing info from who-knows-where, had produced myriad games inspired by the Hundred Days War. Normally, this blatant emperor mockery would draw Austrian protests, but no one raised an issue now.
"This chess variant is intriguing, at least."
"Right? Once the king falls, pawns move two squares orthogonally or diagonally—modeled on the Lorraine militia's great victory."
"Auto-loss after twenty moves is a shame, but these special rules are fun."
The pro-French diplomats bonded over the games.
"You've all arrived."
Versailles Palace, Louis XVI's office. Weeks after the peace treaties, with the banquet fervor fully cooled, at dawn as day broke, two men entered Louis XVI's office.
The Prussian monarch: Frederick II.
The British prime minister: Frederick North.
They were Europe's major powers' rulers, secretly summoned by Louis XVI.
"Welcome. Sit, please."
They sat wordlessly.
"Hmm. I had planned to call you half a year ago, but the war delayed things."
"My apologies. I'm averse to reckless wars myself."
"No matter."
Louis XVI brushed off Frederick II's awkward apology.
"To business. Shall we discuss the future of Europe—and the world?"
Louis XVI unrolled a massive map on the desk.
"A world map. Familiar, yes?"
"Of course. Our job is redrawing maps daily."
Frederick II shot back.
"True. But it's too much for me alone."
Louis XVI erased the densely inked southwestern Holy Roman Empire borders.
"Y-Your Majesty, I appreciate the words, but... why Britain? Why me? Can't you talk to Lord Germain about the peace treaty?"
"Lord North, no need for such wariness. France simply needs Britain—and I have no need for Lord Germain."
Louis XVI dismissed North's unease.
"Back to the point. What feelings does this map evoke?"
"Merging the Holy Roman Empire into one mass?"
"Or perhaps Poland?"
Louis XVI nodded lightly.
"Indeed, that's on my mind. Sorting the Holy Roman Empire's southwestern borders in this peace treaty felt exhilarating. Poland's obsolete now—needlessly vast, inefficient system, yet huge territory. Weak army, but endless land greed. Seeing such land wasted truly brings tears."
"Poland's too far, isn't it? Not France's concern."
Louis XVI pointed to the Dnieper River region.
"Still, look at that land—the vast expanses held by those Junkers."
"Apologies, but 'Junkers' means Prussian nobles."
"Ah, my mistake. Then, what's the term for Polish landowning nobles? I'm ignorant of Polish internals."
"Szlachta. They uphold the pre-modern serfdom structure. They claim Eastern Europe differs from the West, preserving a system suited there. It causes some internal chaos."
Frederick II skeptically informed Louis XVI of the Polish szlachta.
"Thanks for the kind explanation. Continuing: I can no longer tolerate the szlachta's tyranny. Look at those vast black-earth fields around the Dnieper, run as inefficient pseudo-latifundia. Don't you hear it? See it? The land cries out. In spring and fall mud, winter's silence from cold, summer's voiceless heat—the earth wails. I can't ignore its plea in those brief transitions anymore."
"So what? Partition Poland? France at Europe's western edge, Poland bordering Asia? With Ottoman lands around the Black Sea—do you have power to project there?"
Frederick II could stomach no more of Louis XVI's delusions. He rose to leave, but
"That's the wrong way to think."
Louis XVI stopped him.
"This is why I gathered you two today."
Louis XVI pulled black pastel from a drawer and drew borders on the map like a sketch.
"'Asia' is too vague from the start. It's been nearly 300 years since Vasco da Gama opened India—lumping it all as 'Asia' is the mistake, no?"
Louis XVI outlined continents.
North America, South America. Europe, Africa.
"Europe's our home, fine. Americas split north-south, Africa slightly larger than South America—close enough."
Qing, Joseon, Japan.
"In my view, Asia is here."
Asia.
"And Europe here."
Louis XVI set Europe's boundary west of Constantinople.
"Then what's that remaining mass? If Russia's Europe only to the Urals, what's beyond—an area Europe's size?"
"Siberia."
Louis XVI outlined Siberia—Mercator-overestimated as Europe's size.
"Whether from the Siberian Khanate or Mongol 'swamp,' it's too vast for 'Asia.' Its climate is steppe—er, grassland, right?"
From Kamchatka to Chukotka, all became the Siberian continent.
"And right below Europe?"
"Arabia."
Louis XVI outlined from Sinai to Pamirs.
"All... desert."
"Hence Arabia."
Louis XVI outlined the last.
"This is the Indian subcontinent."
India, Indochina, Malay Peninsula, maritime archipelagos.
"Too many continents?"
"For our world, it's fitting. Australia below is too big for an island—call it Oceania."
Europe, North America, South America, Siberia. Africa, Arabia, India, Asia. Oceania.
Louis XVI set down the black pastel and took red, yellow, and blue ones.
"Now, to the main point?"