Chapter 30 - Small Wars
(The next semester of grad school has started up, so I don't think I'll be able to maintain a pace of two updates a week. One update a week is probably going to be more realistic for the next few months. This AAR has turned out to be a larger narrative than I originally envisioned, with multiple weeks required to summarize the events of one evening's play session. When I write my next one there will be several campaigns to choose from! Meanwhile, in Saxe-Lauenurg things are going fine. My ruler managed to live to be 77 or 78, just long enough to vassalize Lubeck and dissolve their trade league. Not only that, he outlived his useless son and saw a far more average grandson follow him. On pace to eventually form Hanover. I was also the second country to embrace Protestantism (first was Croatia of all places). That may have hindered my expansion in the short term as I now have a different religion penalty with the rest of the empire and Castile is DotF, but I'm having fun. Now, on to the timeline that actually is being written about here: )
Chapter 30 – Small Wars
May 1663
The distant rattling of keys, and many footsteps, very quiet at first but gradually getting louder, stirred Duke Johann VI from his vacant trance in his secure but well-furnished prison cell. As it sounded like a fairly large party, Johann jumped to his feet and quickly smoothed out his hair and clothes.
The door opened to reveal his Brother-in-law, Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm II. He did not look happy, as Johann expected, but the rage that was present when he threw him into this cell was long faded. Based on the passage of seasons, Johann knew less than a year had passed.
“Well, Johann,” said the Emperor, “Your sister has convinced me to grant a pardon for your little treason.”
A young man standing behind the Emperor scoffed. Johann recognized him as Emil von Gersdorff, Friedrich Wilhelm’s nephew. The Emperor did not turn to face Emil, but a brief flicker of exasperation crossed his face.
“It isn’t the first time I’ve pardoned a family member,” he continued tersely, “but I have to ask you, what were you thinking?”
Johann struggled to find the words. In truth, he hadn’t been thinking. When the Duke of Pomerania launched his bid to declare independence from Prussia, Johann had found himself shamed into honoring his alliance to the neighboring duchy. He had been assured that it was same for two small countries to take of Prussia, as support had been secured from a couple of Prussia’s rivals. However, it was not long after the declaration of war before Prussian troops were besieging him, and he was thrown into this cell before he had known what was going on. He stumbled and stammered to explain himself, but the Emperor cut him off.
“Well, your friends in Pomerania have all been beheaded. The British never set foot off their island, and the Pope’s forces were intercepted soon after they crossed the Alps. I don’t know why you thought they would help you. That calculation was...”
“Stupid?” interjected Johann.
“Yes! So we do agree! Don’t worry, because you were only honoring your word, I’m not as angry. But that just means that I expect you to honor your words with me. Get yourself cleaned up; you will dine with us tonight, then we must prepare to march west...”
January 1666
Friedrich Wilhelm II was glad to finally survey the land from the top of the fortress of Koln after a high-attrition siege that lasted into the winter. Alfred Armin was one of the casualties of the climate, but Kirk Finck stepped into to replace him as the chief military advisor. Already the results of the Finck’s disciplined approach were apparent; the rowdy rabble who once ran roughshod over Poland were slowly replaced with a more professional force more suited for internal empire police actions.
Over the winter they also lost his mother, Aniela, at the age of 77. Friedrich Wilhelm II was saddened at not only her death, but because he never could make up for how his father mistreated her. He was still trying to find a place for Anna and Emil, but if they distanced themselves from the rest of the family there was only so much he could do.
Although this campaign kept him away from Berlin and his family, it was nice to spend a few Christmases among the army. The new discipline of the soldiers kept drunken revelry in check. Many of them were talented singers and traditional carols rooted them in their divine purpose. And, unlike the cities, there was not a Christmas tree to be found.
However, the purpose of the campaign was finally complete. Over the course of two sequential wars, Berg was pried from Munster, and Koln from Cologne. He had focused on taking the war targets, turning his attention to one of Munster or Cologne’s allies only if they also practiced a heretical religion.
However, other actors in the HRE always tended to take advantage of moments when Prussia’s military was engaged elsewhere for any significant length of time. Magleburg took over Anhalt, and Austria had annexed the remnants of Bohemia. Friedrich Wilhelm II cursed himself for beating them so thoroughly that they stood no chance against a third party. Austria would have to be sorted out eventually, but at least Prussia now had a foothold in the western portion of the Empire.
May 1668
“And that, my Prince, is the essence of mathematics.” Manfred Blankensee said. He was a jovial Saxon polymath who had been brought to court due to his skill with numbers and finance. He had risen to fill the role of chief administrative advisor after the death of Denis Zitzwitz. The ongoing construction of a new textile manufactory was his main project, but he also made himself valuable as a tutor to the royal children, teaching them about mathematics, science, commerce and administration.
“I think I understand now, Mr. Blankensee.” replied young prince Friedrich. He was a kind-hearted boy; when he came to the throne, Prussia would be in more peaceful hands.
“Good,” replied Blankensee. “Finish your homework by tomorrow. I have a meeting with your father.”
The young lad politely left. As soon as he was out of the room, Manfred gathered up some documents from a locked drawer in his desk and exited the room himself. Outside the Emperor’s study, he met his colleague Kristupas Lubranski, a diplomat who joined the cabinet about the same time he did. His predecessor was the patriarch of the Finck family, who suffered a stroke and had to step down.
He barely had time to great his colleague before the door opened and the Emperor’s voice called them in.
“You’re both here, good,” the voice said, “We have important matters to discuss.”
After the door was closed behind them, Manfred presented the documents he had been carrying to Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm II.
“Here they are, your majesty. Legal land claim documents provided by our spies.”
“And they will pass muster?”
“Absolutely. The Dutch will naturally be suspicious of them, but they do appear to be authentic. There are a number of differences between the layout between the standard Imperial land deeds and those that are used in the Netherlands. Most amateur forgers overlook those differences, but these are indistinguishable.”
“Excellent,” said the Emperor, as he locked the documents away, “Lubranski, have you reviewed that request from Duke Johann VI?”
“I have.”
“And your thoughts?”
Kristupas Luranski took a deep breath. “Well, he is rightly being shunned by the other Princes as punishment for rebelling.”
“I agree. He has a lot of nerve requesting help from us. He has only his own foolishness to blame. What do you think, Blankensee?”
Manfred was taken aback. “Emperor, surely Lubranski knows more about this situation than me. I am not a diplomat.”
“Nevertheless, I want your opinion.”
“Well, Johann VI is a fool, but Mecklenburg itself need not be punished. I understand they are having trouble negotiating trade deals. It would be just a small effort for one of our diplomats to lend them a hand, especially as we need to keep Mecklenburg happy and on our side.”
The Emperor sighed. “Gentlemen, I grew up without much of a family. Now, I am blessed to have a large one, but they come with more problems. A sister that barely talks to me. Trying to find marriage matches for willful teenagers. And all the treachery... I wish they could be as disciplined as the army.
“You’re right, Blankensee. We can’t afford to further alienate Mecklenburg as a whole. Lubranski, send a diplomat to aid them.”
Chapter 30 – Small Wars
May 1663
The distant rattling of keys, and many footsteps, very quiet at first but gradually getting louder, stirred Duke Johann VI from his vacant trance in his secure but well-furnished prison cell. As it sounded like a fairly large party, Johann jumped to his feet and quickly smoothed out his hair and clothes.
The door opened to reveal his Brother-in-law, Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm II. He did not look happy, as Johann expected, but the rage that was present when he threw him into this cell was long faded. Based on the passage of seasons, Johann knew less than a year had passed.
“Well, Johann,” said the Emperor, “Your sister has convinced me to grant a pardon for your little treason.”
A young man standing behind the Emperor scoffed. Johann recognized him as Emil von Gersdorff, Friedrich Wilhelm’s nephew. The Emperor did not turn to face Emil, but a brief flicker of exasperation crossed his face.
“It isn’t the first time I’ve pardoned a family member,” he continued tersely, “but I have to ask you, what were you thinking?”
Johann struggled to find the words. In truth, he hadn’t been thinking. When the Duke of Pomerania launched his bid to declare independence from Prussia, Johann had found himself shamed into honoring his alliance to the neighboring duchy. He had been assured that it was same for two small countries to take of Prussia, as support had been secured from a couple of Prussia’s rivals. However, it was not long after the declaration of war before Prussian troops were besieging him, and he was thrown into this cell before he had known what was going on. He stumbled and stammered to explain himself, but the Emperor cut him off.
“Well, your friends in Pomerania have all been beheaded. The British never set foot off their island, and the Pope’s forces were intercepted soon after they crossed the Alps. I don’t know why you thought they would help you. That calculation was...”
“Stupid?” interjected Johann.
“Yes! So we do agree! Don’t worry, because you were only honoring your word, I’m not as angry. But that just means that I expect you to honor your words with me. Get yourself cleaned up; you will dine with us tonight, then we must prepare to march west...”
January 1666
Friedrich Wilhelm II was glad to finally survey the land from the top of the fortress of Koln after a high-attrition siege that lasted into the winter. Alfred Armin was one of the casualties of the climate, but Kirk Finck stepped into to replace him as the chief military advisor. Already the results of the Finck’s disciplined approach were apparent; the rowdy rabble who once ran roughshod over Poland were slowly replaced with a more professional force more suited for internal empire police actions.
Over the winter they also lost his mother, Aniela, at the age of 77. Friedrich Wilhelm II was saddened at not only her death, but because he never could make up for how his father mistreated her. He was still trying to find a place for Anna and Emil, but if they distanced themselves from the rest of the family there was only so much he could do.
Although this campaign kept him away from Berlin and his family, it was nice to spend a few Christmases among the army. The new discipline of the soldiers kept drunken revelry in check. Many of them were talented singers and traditional carols rooted them in their divine purpose. And, unlike the cities, there was not a Christmas tree to be found.
However, the purpose of the campaign was finally complete. Over the course of two sequential wars, Berg was pried from Munster, and Koln from Cologne. He had focused on taking the war targets, turning his attention to one of Munster or Cologne’s allies only if they also practiced a heretical religion.
However, other actors in the HRE always tended to take advantage of moments when Prussia’s military was engaged elsewhere for any significant length of time. Magleburg took over Anhalt, and Austria had annexed the remnants of Bohemia. Friedrich Wilhelm II cursed himself for beating them so thoroughly that they stood no chance against a third party. Austria would have to be sorted out eventually, but at least Prussia now had a foothold in the western portion of the Empire.
May 1668
“And that, my Prince, is the essence of mathematics.” Manfred Blankensee said. He was a jovial Saxon polymath who had been brought to court due to his skill with numbers and finance. He had risen to fill the role of chief administrative advisor after the death of Denis Zitzwitz. The ongoing construction of a new textile manufactory was his main project, but he also made himself valuable as a tutor to the royal children, teaching them about mathematics, science, commerce and administration.
“I think I understand now, Mr. Blankensee.” replied young prince Friedrich. He was a kind-hearted boy; when he came to the throne, Prussia would be in more peaceful hands.
“Good,” replied Blankensee. “Finish your homework by tomorrow. I have a meeting with your father.”
The young lad politely left. As soon as he was out of the room, Manfred gathered up some documents from a locked drawer in his desk and exited the room himself. Outside the Emperor’s study, he met his colleague Kristupas Lubranski, a diplomat who joined the cabinet about the same time he did. His predecessor was the patriarch of the Finck family, who suffered a stroke and had to step down.
He barely had time to great his colleague before the door opened and the Emperor’s voice called them in.
“You’re both here, good,” the voice said, “We have important matters to discuss.”
After the door was closed behind them, Manfred presented the documents he had been carrying to Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm II.
“Here they are, your majesty. Legal land claim documents provided by our spies.”
“And they will pass muster?”
“Absolutely. The Dutch will naturally be suspicious of them, but they do appear to be authentic. There are a number of differences between the layout between the standard Imperial land deeds and those that are used in the Netherlands. Most amateur forgers overlook those differences, but these are indistinguishable.”
“Excellent,” said the Emperor, as he locked the documents away, “Lubranski, have you reviewed that request from Duke Johann VI?”
“I have.”
“And your thoughts?”
Kristupas Luranski took a deep breath. “Well, he is rightly being shunned by the other Princes as punishment for rebelling.”
“I agree. He has a lot of nerve requesting help from us. He has only his own foolishness to blame. What do you think, Blankensee?”
Manfred was taken aback. “Emperor, surely Lubranski knows more about this situation than me. I am not a diplomat.”
“Nevertheless, I want your opinion.”
“Well, Johann VI is a fool, but Mecklenburg itself need not be punished. I understand they are having trouble negotiating trade deals. It would be just a small effort for one of our diplomats to lend them a hand, especially as we need to keep Mecklenburg happy and on our side.”
The Emperor sighed. “Gentlemen, I grew up without much of a family. Now, I am blessed to have a large one, but they come with more problems. A sister that barely talks to me. Trying to find marriage matches for willful teenagers. And all the treachery... I wish they could be as disciplined as the army.
“You’re right, Blankensee. We can’t afford to further alienate Mecklenburg as a whole. Lubranski, send a diplomat to aid them.”