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((Chairman of the State Council + Secretary of the State Council - Private))​

Sirs,


As the top functionaries and Our liasons within the State Council, you should inform the members of this stately body of the following concerns of Ours: The Decree on Abolition of Political Suprevision of Press de facto would legalize the advocacy of republicanism, anarchism or other radical teachings dangerous for law, property, society, the state and individual. The Income Equality Representation Act violated the principles set by the previously passed legislation and attempts to dictate all regions unified electoral policies. The Regional Administration Act is radical in its nature, for it eliminates the mechanisms of royal oversight in the regions, replacing them by appointees of political parties. The Protection of the Rule of Law Bill included an article that would make the principles of nonpartisanship of judicial authority to be set by partisan political leaders. We believe that such standards may be set by the Crown alone, with the assistance of the judicial corps themselves.

Therefore We would advise Our State Council to vote against such measures.

We express no opinion and wait for advise of the State Council regarding other draft bills.

FELIPE
 
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Honorable Members of the State Council, of his Majesty's Government, and of his Majesty's Court. Our Majesty the King has asked us to execute his will by eliminating many of these bills that have entered our chamber. These bills are nothing more than slander and destructive towards the nature of our monarchy, and I will have not approve such a matter. We as the honorable members of this State Council do not need to pander to the will of the people, or ask for their "vote" in the matter. We do not need to listen to atheists or jacobins in deciding the decisions of this country. We are appointed by his majesty to serve his majesty, nothing more, and if his majesty wishes to throw radicals, revolutionaries, and anyone who dares try to question or change the authority of his majesty, then by God's name we shall follow him. I will be damned before the foundations of his majesty's nation fall into the hands of radical liberals like Don Francisco, a priest who, if not for the laziness of his accuser, be stripped of his rank in the most Holy Roman and Apostolic Church. I will not see the will of our gracious King be undermined by those who cannot even read and write properly!

-Antonio Cánovas del Castillo

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The Gentleman from Castile la Nueva brings up points that would shake the foundation of this nation. We cannot allow for the people to be thrown into a fiery rage by demagogues. While Don Francisco now remains behind bars, the people are restless. His words have a lot of meaning to many who sympathize with him, and they will not rest until he is delivered to them. As we speak, thousands of marchers are preparing to march on Madrid, and I fear that those in government will not take a logically approach to the situation. We must face reality gentlemen, the will of the people grows stronger and stronger each day. They have already proved their strength by making the mighty Tsars and Kaisers bend to them. It is not a matter of if they will rebel again, but when. Armies can only kill their own people so many times before they realize they have a heart as well. I beg his majesty to reconsider his wishes to throw these reforms to the wind. I never was a large supporter of the "People's Priest", but I fear that the continued hostility towards them and to their suggestions will only tear Spain apart.

-Práxedes Mateo Sagasta
 
It is highly apparent that the proposal regarding the electoral committee is, at its core, a measure that is both unnecessary and, should His Majesty's words be extrapolated further, a move against the wishes of the Crown. We must first consider the expansion of the bureaucracy that such a proposal would necessitate - whereas the present system, the current committee, has allowed for the concentration of effort to allow for easy and efficacious handling of the elections, and a complete impartment of the King's Will, it cannot be denied that the proposal would invariably tax the Spanish budget far more, or would alternatively tax the regional assemblies to an even greater extent. From a purely fiscal perspective, such a move is unfavourable. However, further still, the cession of power from the Crown and its government into the petty factions that can and often do dominate the regions is most unwise - we need only look at the crisis in the Basque Country only some months ago for a clear indication of that truth. This in turn leads to my final, and I believe the most important, point. It would expand, not inhibit, the partisanship so decried by the author of this bill - we need only look upon the King's words, where he reckoned - wisely - that the so-called Protection of the Rule of Law motion brought forth "would make the principles of nonpartisanship of judicial authority to be set by partisan political leaders." Just such an article can be found in this very same proposal; it is therefore, in my estimation most injurious and counter to the will of the Crown.

In regards to the other measure, regarding the President of the Assembly, I am not much opposed to the matter, though I suggest an amendment which would ensure the Crown's authority over that body; the President would instead be appointed by the Crown, or in a devolved way, by his Government, as opposed to being the tool of partisanship that it would no doubt elsewise be under the proposed system.

~ Pontevedra
 
New Divide (1891-1893)

With the escalation of violence in Southern Spain following the arrest of Don Francisco, the government knew it had to do something in order to make sure that stability would once again return to Spain. As riots and protests escalated in Spain, regional militias were called in to restore order. In Granada, socialists and anarcho-liberals (prominent groups in the area), called for de Valle's release from custody, and to restore the opposition that was once in place. Pontevedra was burned in effigy in many liberal-controlled towns in Spain. Some went as far as to burn effigies of the Grand Duke Roma, a man who was rumored to be in confidence of Pontevedra and his minority government. It did not help the governments case at all when the State Council (which may or may not have been strong armed by the King), shot down all of de Valle's proposed reforms that had passed the Audience. The only one that managed to pass was the President of the Assembly Act, which many hardly saw as a reform in the first place (especially with rhetoric from the Royalist council members that the act should have been reformed to have the King solely decide who the Speaker would be). When word reached the people in Southern Spain, the violence intensified. Liberal-orientated Regional Audience members in Granada broke out in a brawl with the Royalists in the Granada Regional Audience. Madness was engulfing southern Spain, with no end to it in sight.

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(Many barricaded their homes like so)

The climax of all this violence and destruction in the south was when a group of PP members distributed pamphlets across the south detailing a march from Seville to Madrid. The march gained widespread support among liberals, anarcho-liberals, and socialists, as thousands swarmed in Seville to march to the capital and deliver their demands. The government did not want to have thousands of protesters simply arrive outside their door, after all, the destruction in the south should stay in the south, right? A committee of individuals headed by the Marquis of Pontevedra and included such individuals as the Minister of Justice, the Marquis of Etexto, and the head of the Censorship Bureau, all met to discuss a strategy. Many wished to encourage support for a new moderate leader, hoping that the People's Party would be pragmatic and wanting to get back in the Assembly. Others said that the military should clamp down on the march before it go to Madrid. As these were discussed, the Marquis of Pontevedra formulated his own plan to deal with the marchers. He devised a "delay and deteriorate" strategy, in which he would delay the march and do his best to thin the ranks as much as possible. He ordered roads shut down, towns closed to travel, and anything that would delay the marchers. Police forces would peacefully harry the marchers and delay for as long as possible. The marchers would divert from Toldedo through Extramuerda. While this was happening, the government issued propaganda aimed at promoting the government and detesting the rebels. The government boasted about how it abolished slavery and serfdom. However, many of the marchers were born after serfdom was abolished, and those that were born before were middle class citizens who were never effected by it. Many of them also never owned a slave. In fact, the only effect this pro-Royalist agenda had was bring back memories to a small number of aristocrats who were hurt by these decrees (if they were still alive that is). The government also made sure to demonize the marchers as revolutionaries, stating that these marchers were of the same ilk burning southern Spain.

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(Regional Militia were also used at times to move the march)

After all the trials and tribulations, the marchers arrived outside of the gates of Madrid. 30,000-50,000 marchers were met with the army of the Infante Pelayo and his army of 45,000 men. Pelayo ordered the men to stand down, and proclaimed that Pontevedra had promised reforms as shown by his support of the Presidents of the Assembly Act. Pontevedra also proposed many social reforms to the Audience ((which I shall have Riccardo post)).The marchers called out that the President of the Assembly Act was not remotely a reform, nor did the proposed reforms appease the non-socialist groups of marchers. As the two forces stood off from each other, a messenger from the King arrived. Pelayo addressed the crowd that his majesty would not be releasing de Valle nor uplifting the suspension on the People's Party until they voted de Valle out. The King went on to explain in the letter that he was benevolent and fatherly to his people, wanting them to succeed socially and economically. He had no disdain towards any particular party, not even the People's Party moderates. He stated that his decision regarding de Valle was a last resort, for he had tolerated de Valle's "Treason and Deceit" for too long, nor would he tolerate any further agitation that would dare undermine the unity of Crown, God, and Country. The marchers and Pelayo would continue to stand off till night, for the marchers wished to meet in order to predict their next move. The marchers set up camp outside of the city, with Pelayo keeping a watchful eye. As dusk reached the camp, the leaders of the march were beset with problems. Socialist and Anarcho-Liberals were starting to question the motives of the leaders, and wondered how a liberal would achieve their own demands. Many also feared for their family's safety, as the papers were describing the horrors of the south and the riots. If the march is to succeed, the leaders must keep the march united and steadfast in their quest.

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(Marchers approaching Madrid)

As the situation on the mainland spiraled out of control, resentment to the government was brewing elsewhere in the world. In the Philippines, a small band of rebels attempted to take Manila by surprise. They were stopped by a band of Spanish colonial troops, but not until their message was received. There was a nationalist movement in the Philippines, and it had just made its first move. In Cuba, Jose Marti, a know Cuban nationalist, published what is today called the "Montecristi Manifesto", a manifesto detailing a free Cuba. It seems that resentment towards the government is not just a mainland problem...

With marchers near Madrid, opposition growing violent, and colonies growing restless, King Felipe has a lot on his plate for the next few years. How will he manage the many crisis that engulf his nation?

--------------------------
Player Actions Needed: You all got a few days to fix your issues
 
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((Private))
To the esteamed leaders of the Socialist Party,

Our time has come brothers! We will fight for a democratic Spain! Muster as many men as possible, we'll need everything we can get. For the future, our children, and for Spain!


((Public))
A letter written by Senor Verdejo is sent out to the government and among as much of Spain as possible

"Friends, brothers, Spaniards, lend me your ears! Not long ago, in the days of absolutism, our opinions were not heard, and instead we were just toys in the noble's game of power. I say no more! Our very rights that the 1879 Revolution brought us have been stripped away by the king and his lackey Pontevedra. Senor de Valle, a man who truly fights for our rights, has been imprisoned by the king for fighting for the right of a man to express his opinion. I, Senor Verdejo, leader of the Socialist Party, will continue to fight for the ideals De Valle fought for, to the death if need be!

I call on all Spaniards to rise up in the streets and seize the freedoms you have be denied for so long. Now is the time for revolution, not to overthrow the monarchy but to limit the King's power and bring democracy and freedom to Spain. We have come to the point when we must let the King know that we will not take any more of his violation of our liberties, we will not allow him to continue to suppress our voice and ignore us. It has become clear that he will not listen to us otherwise unless we march in the streets and show him that we have had enough. Rise, my countrymen, and fight for the future of Spain!!!"

Senor Verdejo, and the top members of the Socialist Party disappear into the southern countryside.

((That's right, it's revolution time! PM me Naxhi should I not be able to do this))

Goals of the Revolution:
  • Constitutional convention expanding and engraining the rights and liberties of the Spanish People.
 
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La Samahan begins organizing various (violent) riots throughout cities in the Philipines in support of Independence
 
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Socialists in Navarra suddenly start to disappear, and their heads mounted on the gates to the Etxeto Estate and to Bilbao. I'm sure there is no connectedness though.
 
The Marquis de Pontevedra read through the reports, whilst several aides whispered varyingly to him and each other. He rose from his chair, and looked over the men - they were old, greying; relics of a far-gone era, when it seemed that the nation was full of optimism and hope. And here they were, tired and afraid, yet working ceaselessly to do their part for the Kingdom. The Marquis gently put down the letter he been reading and left the room, their voices trailing off as the distance grew. As he made his way down the stairs, his hand gliding lightly down the rail, he wondered how Carlos V felt before he had issued his proclamation in Portugal. Elation? No, he concluded as he reached the bottom of the stairs and advanced towards the door. It was not fear either. It was grim determination, a sense of absolute duty, one that could not be shirked no matter what he wanted. He continued to walk down the street; it was a rare thing for him, to travel on foot, and to travel unprotected. Yet he felt safe. He had always had a knack for sensing danger, he supposed. The moment he met de Valle he felt the slightest twinge of revolutionary hatred - yet he had permitted that rodent to feast, and to grow fat. It was one of his failings, perhaps his most egregious. The Marquis soon caught sight of the Royal Guard, standing alert; some were stoically looking out at the mobs, others showed just slightest signs of fear. He wondered what that felt like.

He stopped, atop the walls, some yards away from the protestors, those marchers who had caused so much misery to Spain, unintentionally he reckoned; he had long since learned that the best of intentions universally led to the greatest of tragedies. He cleared his throat, and closed his eyes. The breeze whsipered through his mustachioed face, his whiskers tickling his lips, which he pursed for just a moment - he had watched many speakers do the same, perhaps to calm themselves; perhaps they thought it could endear them to their audience. He at last spoke in his usually soft, high voice; it was unnaturally loud, certainly for him, as he had never cared for public attention, and suffered it only when necessary. He began matter-of-factly.

Rebellion has befallen the colonies, disloyalty abounds, and treason seems to be the watchword of the decadent political class that emerged amongst the radicals. However, not only is have separatists emerged across the colonies, the south is, as you have all likely heard, in a state of chaos - riots and fighting at a scale unheard of since the War of the Restoration. And here, you stand, camped outside of the capital, for no real purpose.


It was harsh, he knew. But it was better to speak a harsh truth at times than to utter a pleasant lie. He knew they wondered just what they were doing there, already. He need only make them further question it. Now was the time to make them think of what their actions, their deeds, had done, and what was happening to their very homes.

Do you want chaos? Do you want destruction, your homes in ruins, your wives and children dead before you, starving in the streets as violence rages about you? Do you wish to the colonies to be lost, for universal poverty? Do you long for the collapse of Spain's respectability?

Have you, you who complains of small triflings, who bemoans inconveniences, and who derides the Crown and the State for its diligent work in promoting the Spanish Kingdom in all quarters, the government that has provided industry, railways, public services, and support in all matters! Have you no shame? Have you no sense of decency or loyalty? Or are you so bound by the demon of partisanship that you shall cover your eyes of the progress of Spain, the successes and recovery made across the reign of the Carline Kings? Can you look beyond, for one inkling of a second, your own petty self-interest, your conceits and ambitions, and turn your spirit and soul towards the betterment of your homeland? Are you so proud and vainglorious that moderation and sense have abandoned you? Spain shall lose everything, for want of reasonable men, for want of loyal men - you may protest and wail and moan for your own vices, for you own good, but will turn your back upon the Fatherland, like vermin, like filth who cannot imagine the world beyond their egos.

Shall you, for the want of lying priest, for the sake of a party of radicals and manipulators, beggar the whole Kingdom and plunge it into anarchy? Are any one of you willing to pay the price for your arrogance and ignorance? When the cities are ablaze, the fields abandoned, the colonies lost, the crown tossed aside, and your very lives on the precipice of desolation and death, shall any one of you recognise your profound foolishness? Or shall you continue to sing the song of "democracy," fiddle the tune of "liberalism" whilst all around you is forsaken, resigned to the ash-heap of history for the sake of your beloved martyr?

I condemn you! All of you! You craven sons of whores, who would quicker abandon the State that has given so much to you for the want of more! You avaricious layabouts who demand with one hand and refuse to give with the other!


Condemnation was best served in spewed vitriol, with grains of truth for flavour.

For the sake of your petty wants and desires, the Fatherland is in flames. Your homes shall be burnt, and you shall have no one to avail upon for support. You will have your anarchy, your swirling chaos. And you shall weep. You shall curse the day you marched upon Madrid, you will rue the hour you rejected sense and reason for ambition and greed, and you will suffer.


Now to provide a counter, a positive view of the man they despise. A simple explanation would do.

I am a man of the Crown. I am a man of loyalty. You may deride my honour, you may condemn my actions, and you may loathe my person; I care not for the wailings of those would sooner riot and rebel than live in peace and prosperity. Whilst you have waxed philosophy to one another, and lamented your poor state of affairs - your own failings! - I reformed this government, I brought stability to the colonies, and I fought rebellion and disloyalty wherever I could, hands bound as they were by the satanic binds latched by those who saw treason as loyalty, rebellion as honour, and revolution as peace. I have served His Majesty, I have served the Fatherland, to my utmost, never shirking my duties, and never asking for more than was necessary in pursuing them. I live in simplicity, in humbleness, and I am content in the fact that I have, for my entire life, served my homeland in what small way I could.

Yet you would not have that. You would not content yourselves with the gifts and boons bestowed upon you by the Crown, by the very men you now march against! How many of you were born in serfdom, and how many of you were freed from its bonds, not by the auspices of the liberals, nor by the actions of de Valle, or the Cristinos of old, but by the Crown itself, by our late and beloved king, Carlos the Restorer? Who amongst you now farm the lands granted by Him to you or your forebears? Who among you now enjoys the wares of China and the Orient? How many of you trade in coffee and other goods grown and harvested in the colonies established and maintained by the Crown? Those colonies now inflamed by your conduct!


And now to strike where the iron is hottest.

You may not care for your homes, you may not care for your wives and children - hundreds of miles away, and in constant threat of destruction and death. Yet, despite that same destruction have wrought, despite the rebellions you and yours have fomented across the Kingdom of Spain, despite the harm, the utterly immeasurable harm you have rendered in payment for the Crown's generosity, I care for them. I wish for no death, I have no stomach for blood to be shed needlessly. But I cannot permit rebellion and anarchy to reign across the Fatherland - I have fought so long to preserve stability for you, for your families, for the King, for the homeland, for that all to be torn asunder by your insolence.

I ask that you return to your homes, to your families, and keep them safe. To think upon your actions, to look upon the perils facing Spain, and despair at you have done. But stand in union with the Crown, with the State, with the Fatherland in preserving our homeland, in rebuilding, in fighting rebellion and revolution.


I call for the institution of martial law across the south of Spain, for the restoration of order, and for the rebuilding of the damaged cities; already, I have set aside funds to accomplish the latter, and I trust the officers of the Royal Army to do their utmost in the restoration of order and civility. If you "men" will not protect that which all men should care most about, then I shall take upon that duty. I will, and the Crown will. Whilst you deliberate and bicker, Royal troops shall march through your cities, protecting your homes and defending your loved ones. Whilst you condemn me, and the whole government, we shall protect your livelihoods and future.

If there is but a shred of love for the fatherland, they will cease their protests, they will cease their marches and riots, so that the colonies may be protected, so that order might be restored, so that Spain might prosper in peace and stability.

I can only hope that you, you sad lot, shall spend this time considering your actions. I shall spend this time preserving the nation.

The Marquis's large eyes studied the crowd for the moment, be he turned and left them to fester.
 
Known Socialists working in any of Fernando Armando Hernando Rolando Fernández's factories or businesses suddenly find themselves unemployed.
 
((Alright, so we have another revolution! I will give you guys till Saturday evening to process this and make plans and deals for either the revolution or government. This will also be time for another force to attempt their own counter-revolution))
 
((No name, as I can't think of one, and cause I am lazy))

Pedro was perplexed by response of the people. They could have shown support, as their gracious monarch allowed their views to be heard through the moderate, but still they came in uproar. He tried to quell the peoples of his region, the very heartland of Spain, but still she bled like she had all of 60 or so years ago, under the first Carlist Insurrection as Pedro would oft refer to the motion as.

He wrote small letters to the local leaders, and they demanded blood in return.It seemed the whole country was in a frenzy over the recent actions of his person, the crown and the Marquis de Pontevedra. Surprisingly however, it seemed most of the anger had been deferred towards the Marquis, for his ongoing attempts to suppress de Valle, and the crown- for allowing, and encouraging, the dismissal of such a man. So Pedro shook, not in anger or in fear, and waited, waiting for the word of his majesty, to see where next he could assist the country towards greatness, and not on the field like some fools had the notion to think he had the calibre to do such motions, ha, with his age and.... problems, no, he was the sit and wait person, awaiting a prompt word from his majesty, and then the future would unfurl.
 
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Santa Maria da Feira is a quiet, calm town in the north of Portugal. Very important to the Reconquista and the creation of the Condado Portucale, a remnant of those times is the castle which stands on a small grassy hill overlooking the lands. From there one can look at the fields, but more importantly, supervise the movement which goes around town at every weekend, when the market stalls open earlier and the quiet of the place is pierced by belching, announcing prices loudly, the smell of Porto wine and the occasional girlish squeal upon a meeting with the less desirable tenants of the marketplace, sailors from Africa, Italy, Brazil and the many colonies of the Spanish Empire. The Empire holds sway over the town indirectly, having managed to quell a rebellion there relatively recently, and leaving a garrison of many behind, who only add to the chaotic streetscape of Sundays - after Mass, of course.

The castle, in contrast, is a palatial space. Sobriety rules the décor. Silence can be found in the archways and cloister or the relatively humble chapel. Servants seem to acknowledge this and pass by on their daily chores gracefully, leaving the cackling and gossiping to the pantry, stables or the hillside. The ancient stone walls look as if they speak of years of intrigue, war councils and whatever stories that might tickle the Romantic in us when looking at the Middle Ages. It was probably a place where decisions were made that would change destiny... but has it lived up to it in recent times?

We find the castle in peace on that day in the year of 1893, even though it is a Sunday afternoon, and the town is aflame in their weekly celebrations. The crowd is indistinct at first, but there is someone in that rush of noise and wine that seems to command respect, maybe because of his mount, a strong Thoroughbred, leading its rider and a following companion through the narrow streets until they reach the castle gates, opened in advance. The servants are confused; the man who rides the leading horse is well-known to them, however his vestments are now considerably different than in any other time of his visit. The ceremonial aspect of it seems to be much more present, and the complex coat of arms in the horse and cape bears some resemblance, but not many of them can quite recognize what is it. His companion, a visibly lower class young man, looks like he is trying too hard to keep up the pomp and circumstance of the master.

“Is my uncle in the hall? Is my cousin there already?”

“Yes, my Lord Cristóbal. They await you.”

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Cristóbal takes a left turn and reaches the cloister, as memories come back. It was in that cloister that he grew up. He spent more time in Santa Maria da Feira than in Pontevedra or Santiago de Compostela, and played joyfully in that same cloister for many years. The children of lord and servant alike loved the castle. It made them dream of days of yore, of knights and princesses, and inspired their childish theaters.

One day, when their years were more mature, Cristóbal and his cousin Alberto, who had been his first friend, had a discussion. The age of teenage passions was here, and coincidence found them gaining affections for the same girl, a young chambermaid called Sonia. The Soutomaior family was traditional, and hired swordsmen to train their boys in fencing, even in the year of 1857 and further on. It was during a practice that Alberto hit the wooden sword on Cristóbal with more strength than usual, and it proved to be the excuse for the boys to argue and even begin to brawl because of their love interest. Sonia sat on the side, having caught on to their feelings and feeling strangely excited at the situation. The other children shouted them on. Cristóbal now remembered all of this happening in that same cloister, but one thing was present in his memory. When the cousins just stood around and argued with each other, Cristóbal had mentioned the fact Alberto and his uncle weren’t living in Spain anymore. He wondered loudly if they had ran away. He immediately regretted the words, for he loved his uncle, and Alberto now tackled him and both cousins rolled on the ground just before the castle governess broke up the confusion and split the young men. These were all childish things, of course, and any grudges the cousins might have had were long gone, especially after Sonia married a Portuguese Army sargeant some years later. Her family still lived on the town.

“Good to see you, Cristóbal. There is much to talk about.”

The doors to the hall opened as Cristóbal was a few steps from them. The tall figure of Alberto stood there, slim and still imposing, in stylish but simpler clothes, in the latest British fashion. Cristóbal, who was leading the young servant, now also followed his cousin into the decorated hall, complete with carvings of the Soutomaior coat of arms in the window parapets. The long hall ended in a cozy study-like place, with a desk, a fireplace and some chairs. On the largest of them, Cristóbal saw his uncle sitting. Don Artai Amaro de Soutomaior e Andrade, political man of the time of Carlos V and one of the greats of the musical world in the Iberian peninsula, is now an octogenarian, looking smaller and slightly curved in the chair.

Cristóbal approaches him, kneels and kisses his hand.

“Blessings, Don Artai.”

“Do not be so formal with my name. God bless you.”

Alberto takes the desk chair, and Cristóbal and the young servant accommodate themselves on the other ones.

“Cristóbal, before you say what I expect you to say… how is uncle Brandán?”

“Well. He walks around the property and does light gardening. I have replaced him in practically every official matter. I think his heart couldn’t take much, not the way Spain has been doing recently.”

“I wish I could do gardening still. I envy Brandán for a lot of things now, but mostly his age. It’s not that prestigious to be the older brother when you’re in your eighties.”

A hearty laugh takes over the men, and eases the atmosphere in the hall. Even the servant feels more comfortable.

“So… now to more serious things. We hear of trouble in Spain, cousin. The sailors and merchants are talking, but they seem to have limited views of that. What has been going on?”

“Well, as you know the reds have been stirring up revolutionary sentiment in the country.”

“Tell me some news. They have been trying to do that for long now.”

“Well, this time it will probably start up something bigger.”

“I see. I mean, what else could be the result of accepting liberalism in any way? They have some resources now, they and all their dirty rabble.”

“This will not be like 1873, cousin! There is no fast peace to be thought of. There won’t be any more political moves that could avoid war on the streets and keep Spain as it has always been! Times are different. We have been lenient on socialists. They will take advantage of that.”

“Wait, is it a nationally organized uprising?”

“Yes. Their party is behind it. Things are happening fast. There is confusion in the palaces and castles. We don’t know whether to trust moderates. The demagoguery of socialists makes any good man sick to their stomach.”

“Hear, hear.”

Don Artai reached for a glass of wine. He enjoyed the silence while his family members waited for his thoughts. He was still a proud man.

“I’m old. Old people get bored easily, boys. Everyone knows the red devils shouldn’t exist, too much talk of it gets very boring. You didn’t come here just to warn us of a revolt, Cristóbal. On with it."

Cristóbal knew this moment would arrive, but he was still fighting the words and thoughts. Indeed, Don Artai was correct. The reason for his coming was much more important. It was also something that would change their lives.

“Uncle… sometimes I wonder, why haven’t you come back to Spain more times since the dukedom was passed to my father?”

“Old stories. They aren’t important now. I didn’t want to leave in the first place, but there were pressing matters for our family in Portugal, boy. You should know. Do you not remember the Miguelist War? Our Portuguese cousins were on the wrong side… that needed to be corrected. I got too much reputation for my own good, so I was needed here. I left the Spanish title to Brandán, and soon I had no reason to come back to Galiza. When I gave most of the duties to Alberto, I was old enough and just wanted to visit my brother and you.”

“Yes, uncle. I know the story. But couldn’t you have come back after the war?”

“Brandán was a lot like you, Cristóbal. Very ambitious, but also very capable. I came to love this region as much as I love Galiza. Why deny him the honor to be one of the Grandes de España when I just wanted to live comfortably and make my music?”

“Father, I think no one can say that didn’t work out. Your music’s really good, even though I have been listening to it for years.”

Another amused laugh.

“I’m glad you think that way, uncle. How is the money here? Does the barony still produce enough to sustain you, the castle and the servants?”

“Of course it does, cousin. You saw the market today! We could live well even if we just taxed the people on Sundays.”

“Good.”

“You’re still avoiding the point, Cristóbal.”

Oh well.

“Well, uncle, maybe Alberto has an idea of what I’m about to propose. Times of trouble in Spain may also mean times of renewal for us.”

“We only talked about this a little the last time I was in Santiago. But I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking of.”

“We need a new duke.”

“That’s something.”

“Maybe me?”

Another laugh.

“I wish we were still in those times, uncle. I am proposing the title returns to your side of the family. Father is old, and to be frank, I have been also getting some years. You mentioned me being like him, but this is where I’m starting to become like you: I want peace and quiet. Not to deal with a revolution. I want father to live without political cares, and so would I like to. You in here, however, have…”

“Two more years than you!”

A smile.

“But I know what you mean. Mariano?”

“Yes. Is he still in Lisbon?”

“God.”

The eyes in the room turned to Don Artai, who looked properly confused but happy.

“Sorry to be so drastic on my idea, uncle.”

“This is a lot to think about. I can’t say I’m not pleased, though…”

“Yes, he’s in Lisbon. The King has told us his service is very valuable there. Best Artillery officer in Portugal.”

“Surprising that he hasn’t added to the family’s titles yet.”

“He’s still considered young for that, I think. I’m sure the King would find it in him to let him go. We have been loyal subjects.”

“The defense of Santa Maria da Feira was brilliant, cousin. We all owe you one.

“It’s interesting how these rebellions have changed our lives. One more to go.”

Don Artai looked deep in thought, and this time a few more minutes were added to it. After consideration, he looked at Cristóbal.

“Tell me just one thing. You’re not choosing Martín because of his… issues?”

“Yes, uncle. I love the boy, as a good Catholic should always love his son, even if he is a sinner. But people who know him, suspect his persuasions. We have a name to preserve. Galiza is rightfully traditionalist. They would never accept a queer.”

“What a waste.”

“Indeed. Is Brandán aware of your opinion?”

“Since a few months ago. He supports it, of course. He also cannot wait to come to Portugal and see you, and live here.”

“I miss him. Tell him that. One more thing. The servant boy… why does he accompany you? He’s very quiet.”

“This is Fernando. He’s a good person, if too shy. I brought him as a witness and intend for him to be working for Mariano when he’s the new duke. To be honest, I came dressed in the dukedom’s coat of arms with the fancies because I thought Mariano could be here. We could have done this today, even.”

More silence.

“It is done. I trust your judgement. Send Fernando to Lisbon. Go there, boy, but speak nothing of what happened here today. Tell Mariano we will meet in Santiago in a month, for a family reunion. Let him believe that, and only that.”

-------------------------

A few hours later, a light rain had started to fall over the town and castle. The sun was on its descendent trajectory, leaving behind a sky of orange and blue hues, into which Cristóbal gazed as he sat in the cloister in the company of a book. It would soon become too dark to read in there, and as he thought of leaving to a room, he noticed Alberto coming from the left side and sitting down beside him.

“Father is taking a siesta before dinner. Fernando has left. We equipped him properly. He is a good servant, and for some reason his hair reminds me of our great-uncle, you remember him? The same reddish brown. Fernando doesn’t seem like he laughs or drinks as much, though.”

Laughter.

“It feels great to be here again.”

“Too many memories, right?”

“A lot. Just today as I was going through the left wing there…”

“The day we fought, right?”

Cristóbal got awkward, but surprised that Alberto thought of the same thing as he did.

“How did you remember that too?”

“Well, I know you probably remembered it because the day was similar and you were walking through there. I’m used to the castle, though. What brought it to mind was our conversation and how Mariano will get the dukedom.”

“Interesting. Why?”

“You were really angry that day and you told me we had run away from Spain.”

Cristóbal lowered his head.

“I also thought of that. It’s shameful, cousin. I know you forgave me, but I ask once again.”

“Don’t worry. It’s just funny. After years, decades, you come back here to fix that. It had to be you, cousin. In a way you were right. I’ll never be the Duke of Galiza. I don’t care that much for it anyway. Yet my son will, and he will do so by your hand, and your father’s blessings.”

Silence.

“How the world turns.”

They both admire the sky above.

“Truly.”

-----------------
Santiago-Catedral-2.jpg


Santiago de Compostela woke up that Sunday with excitement. The people got out of their houses as if following the Sun, going to the different parishes where Mass would take place, but that was the usual part. After ten, a crowd started to converge to the Praza do Obradoiro, in front of the cathedral. Space soon became a luxury, and even the cathedral’s steps started getting crowded around eleven, when a single bell tolled and marked the beginning of the ceremony. The Soutomaior family sat on the front benches, all the men and women and children that could come from other parts of Spain, the colonies, America and Portugal. In a special place was Don Artai, whose aura even at age 86 commanded respect. In the last part of the nave, in front of all the people but below the sacred altar, there stood two men, with a third one kneeling in front of them.

“Gratia suae Maiestatis Phillippus Sextus rex Hispaniae…”

A long process had just been finished, by which Duke Brandán de Soutomaior e Valladares, Duke of Galiza, would abdicate from his title and grant it to his grand-nephew, fulfilling a promise between brothers when Artai left Spain fifty years ago. He, standing now by the Cardinal Archbishop, lifted a ceremonial sword in a straight motion, in front of his body.

“... et sub semper vigilantibus oculi Dei altissimo…”

The young man shivered at the mention of God, whom he was brought up to fear and respect. It felt like that same God, who in his teenaged curiosity seemed so far, was now very close, looking through the blooming light of the cathedral’s windows at him.

“... hodie annuntiamus Mariano Enrique de Soutomaior e Andrade Dux Galliciae…”

He felt the sword fall gently upon his shoulder, as if a symbol for the responsibilities he would bear.

“... dominus in terram istam, ut serviant populi, Dei et gloria Hispaniae…”

Most of all, to learn how to do it. How would a young man deal with being a Grande de España? How would he serve his people in the times of trouble, when the red menace knocks? How to maintain piety and respect his family name when there is always war on the horizon? How…

“... sic fiat.”

Then all wondering stopped. When requested, Mariano rose up and faced the smiling face of his great-uncle Brandán, and walked out along the nave to the sound of organ pieces composed by his grandfather, who also watched proudly. The respectful quiet and music of the cathedral turned to a cheer as he took the square. The Soutomaior family was beloved in Galiza, many still remembering how Don Artai had defended them in the Carlist War. Mariano was something new and fresh, and the news of his reputation in Portugal had reached Santiago de Compostela as soon as he was publicly appointed to succeed his great-uncle.

He has a bright future ahead of him.

donat-johann-daniel-portrait-of-a-gentleman-thumb.jpg


Name: Mariano Enrique de Soutomaior e Andrade, Duke of Galiza
Date of Birth: February 8th, 1871
Background: Mariano was born into the prestigious Soutomaior e Andrade family, to Alberto Franco Soutomaior e Andrade, son of the legendary aristocrat and musician Don Artai Amaro de Soutomaior e Andrade, who served in the Privy Council of King Carlos V as Minister for the Interior before his somewhat mysterious decision to leave Spain in 1843. Don Artai and Don Alberto relocated to Portugal, however Mariano had been brought back to Galiza to be born in the ducal palace now led by his great-uncle. Enjoying a good education in his years between Portugal and Spain, Mariano at first gained training in music, but prefered the path of the Army. Enlisted as a commissioned officer in the Portuguese Army, because of his aristocratic origins and the close relationship of that nation with Spain, Mariano had an easy path to higher office and his particular talents in artillery gave him a place in Lisbon as a second-rank Captain protecting the Tagus. A peculiar string of events made him come back to Santiago de Compostela at age 22, when after some months of preparation he received the coronet of the Dukedom of Galiza and prepared for a career in Spanish politics, and if possible, the Armed Forces. News of a rebellion were around, and the Royalist and Catholic Soutomaior family would find no shortage of leading to do.
 
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For decades the Crown of Spain has tirelessly cared for the people of this glorious Kingdom. Many years ago Our August Grandfather, King Carlos the Restorer, has found a Kingdom lacking hope and future, a Kingdom that has been humbled by plots, attacks against the Holy Church, a Kingdom that has lost its colonies and whose conniving ministers were willing to sell it to foreign forces. These of weak mind and weak spirit wished Spain to become something like a secondary version of the Girondist France, not believing that we can create a state that corresponds with our own national identity, culture and spirit, forged by hundreds of years of Spanish greatness, hundreds years as an Empire, a guardian of the Catholic order and defender of the faith.

The Carlist line has restored the feeling of national dignity and national honor. Under its auspices the Kingdom has acquired vast overseas possessions, the country developed economically, its people prospered. Instead of a sick child of Europe, the Spanish Kingdom has become a proud adult, whose word was respected in international councils and whose advise the great countries thought.

However it was clear to Us that that within this nation there always would exist there that would wish to destroy the unique character of Spain and return Us to the sad days of national disunity.. During the first years of the rule of Our Grandfather they were too afraid to act. However, the Spanish Kings have always been merciful and would never adopt a system of governmental terror such as professed by predecessors of the enemies of Our state, the French jacobins – and, as the time passed, the dragon has raised its head.

However this Kingdom would be subdued by socialists, people that disrespect property, society and order in favor of far-fetched theories cooked up by foreign radicals, not, at behest of Neochristino demagogues, abandon its roots, based on honor, morality and religion.

These disorders should be ended and their organizers brought before law. Our Viceroys, generals and ministers can use all methods as prescribed by law martial and civil to end this shameful attack upon Spain.

FELIPE

((To the Cabinet - Private))

Gentlemen,

It is time for the government to take swift and coordinated measures to deal with these that dare to disrupt public order in Spain. Many years ago We demonstrated mercy to avoid bloodshed - but now it is not the same. These that raise arms against the state, these that believe that they can, by violence, reach their political means and disrupt class cohesion. should be held responsible in most swift way. We expect you to demonstrate unity and cooperation that We have long expected to see between the political parties and statesmen of these Realm. Think of the following - if the great men of this country would fight over electoral votes and petty factional interests, where it would lead our dear Spain?

Marquess of Pontevedra, We have always valued Your service. We remember how you stood by us during the disorders that happened more than thirty years ago - and your valuable assistance to Us during the years that have passed. However, We cannot also deny that the period that passed was devoid of problems. As to say, the Ministry of Interior has for a long time seen Senor Verdejo and his ideas as harmless - and the man have been for years deceiving the ministry and plotting treason. However We are surethat as Interior Minister you would be quite able to assist to deal with the consequences of this outrageous outburst - God knows that you, Marquess, are an expert in police affairs.

It is needed to try out new blood - and We can find none other that the man who more than us all knows about socialist threat and always stood in defense of property and order - the right honorable Lord Etxeto. For this reason We today announce the new Government of this Kingdom and wish it luck.

FELIPE


Cabinet 1893​

First Secretary of State and Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs: Marqués de Riojo (Dadarian)

President of State Council, Second Secretary of State and Secretary for the Interior: Sr. de Correia y de Medinaceli (Revan)

Secretary of State for Grace and Justice and Chief of the Colonial Office: Fernando Armando Hernando Rolando Fernández ((Michaelangelo))

Secretary of State for Treasury and Chief of the Department of Economic Affairs: Duque de Menorca ((Firehound))

Secretary of State for War: Antonio Carlos de Zumalacárregui e Imaz (RR)

Secretary of State and Chief of the Department of Truth and Honesty: Duque de Infantado ((ML))
 
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Player Actions Needed: The revolution vote shall begin! The two sides in this battle shall be the revolutionaries and the regime. Voting shall last three days or until all players vote. Choose wisely, for even neutrality can get you killed.

Support: Revolution/Regime/Neutrality
 
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Fernando Armando Hernando Rolando Fernández sat in his office, listening to the distant sound of protests throughout Madrid. A few of his employees had dared to use the opportunity to join the protests or even strike against him, but he'd tossed them out the moment that arose. Now he just had to listen to the growing din and hope the Crown could crush this little display.

"Filthy socialists."

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Revolution

((Private))
La Samahan decides to begin arming their men, preparing plans to start a mass revolt should a civil war break out in the midst of revolution in Spain
 
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((I'm planning on getting back into this iAAR sometime soon, so anybody want to make an offer to my future character (Juan Felipe de Alvear y Ponce de Leon) to entice him to a side? He'll especially listen if one side promises to restore his family's reputation and honor.))