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Chapter 38 - The Stinging Lash
Chapter 38



September 1701



Enjoying the flavor of the slice of orange in his mouth, General Hartmann von Stille listened to one of the fast-travelling Imperial Messangers as he peeled off another slice. The news was not unexpected. After the Scots left Gelre, the Dutch were able to quickly invade and set up while the army was returning to the low countries. Liberating Gelre was a costly affair, but he had been reinforced with fresh conscripts from Mecklenburg.

Back in the spring, Austria had had enough pressure put on them that they had decided to exit the war as soon as a white peace could be arranged. Now, with almost all of their territory occupied, it would seem that the Netherlands too had reached an agreement with Gelre.

The agreement, while not awarding Prussia any land, was acceptable for the national interest. Several territories were returned to Friesland and East Frisia, and Flanders was granted independence. In addition, several oversees Dutch trading posts fell back under local control by the natives.

Grinning at the messenger despite a mouth full of oranges, General von Stille retrieved his coat from an attentive lieutenant. Dismissing the messenger, he exited his tent to order the army to turn around and return to Prussian soil. The Netherlands were shattered, but there were opportunities to be found in picking up the pieces. He was sure that they would be back.

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November 1701



“I don’t want to marry her.” pouted Fredrich Wilhelm IV, “do I have to?”

Jaina frowned. “Emperor, you must marry. Your whole family and the advisory council agree. Your duties include continuing the royal line.”

“Yeah, but, her?”

“Aniela is a good match.” In truth, Aniela Pernstein was hardly Empress material, but Jaina had been working for years to find a suitable bride. Every other suggestion had been vetoed by one branch of the von Gersdorff family or another. Aniela, one of the least tactful young women that Jaina knew, was surprisingly the only one who was not strongly objected to. None of them wanted the current heir, Fredrich Wilhelm IV’s cousin, the late Hans von Gersdroff’s only son confusingly also named Friedrich Wilhelm, to ascend to the throne. Most of them agreed that the Emperor should be married as soon as feasible, and Aniela was acceptable enough.

“But my father had choosen to marry you.”

“That was different. He had already had you by then. You were raised your whole life to be the next ruler of Prussia, and you’ve long known what you need to do to maintain it.

“You’re right...but her?”

“We all have to make sacrifices.”

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February 1703



His world had been nothing but aches and nausea for several hours, but now the bright lights and constant noise around him stirred a young Prussian private to consciousness. His head was pounding, and it was difficult to move his limbs. He felt like he had slept standing up.

It was too bright to see anything, but the sounds of people talking and milling about indicated that mourning activities had already begun. He could not remember where he had fallen asleep after a night of carousing and looting, but it must have been out of doors. His stomach called out for attention next, reflexively ejecting its contents. He heard shouts and laughter. He tried once again to move, and felt cold iron restraining him. As the taste of cheap liquor and stomach acid faded, he could detect the odor of something that smelled of charcoal. The smell enticed some fuzzy memories to come forward...running through the dark streets, then tripping and dropping a torch into a haywagon. In a drunken panic, he had tried to put in out by splashing it with the bottle of liquor he had with him. The fire only grew from there, setting the roof the adjacent building on fire. He then vaguely remembered being dragged away from the source of the blaze by his friends, who were cussing him out and trying to get their stories straight.

A moan to his side made the private open his eyes, and he finally was able to perceive his situation. His friends were indeed still with him, but they were all lined up and shacked in stockades. In front of them, soldiers and civilians moved about, trying to clear wreckage from the smoldering heap that was once the town of Hont.

He had paid little attention to the justification for this war. Apparently East Frisia, freed from the Netherlands, never moved their capital back to their namesake province, preferring instead to operate from state trade company lands outside the Holy Roman Empire. Sileasia and Aachen were East Frisia’s allies, and that was all he needed to know. Austria was too hostile to permit military access, but the Ottomans were willing to allow it. He had marched with the rest of the army around most of Silesia, avoiding a large army of Hungarian separatists, before entering the small, ex-Imperial country from the other side.

“Disgraceful,” said a voice. The private strained to look up at it, and saw the face of General von Stille, who was eating a turkey leg as he supervised the cleanup of the burnt town. “I hope last night’s celebration was worth it, soldiers.”

The private felt some shame, but his physical discomfort commanded most of his attention. The general paid him no mind.

“At least Silesia folded quickly and agreed to convert to Protestantism. Too bad they aren’t an Imperial state anymore. We expect more discipline and professionalism from the Prussian army. You lot, unfortunately, will have to be used as examples to the rest. The one silver lining is that I may be able to use this to get more resources from the Emperor. He may be easily led, but he understands the need for reform.”

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That's a troublesome Netherlands to deal with. I hope Prussia charts a path towards a more stable situation on their borders.

I'm working on it! Big changes in the management of the low countries in the coming years.

Meanwhile, my Hanover game has entered the final stages. Turns out I can't get the PU over England if I switched to Protestant, but I can still finish the mission by controlling England militarily. Five years to go in game, will need to provoke a huge coalition to attempt it, planning to go at it do or die once I can give it my full attention. After that, no idea what my next game will be...
 
It seems some far stricter disciple is more than justified here. A poor show for the Prussuan soldier. On the plus side, step one of a lowlands reorganisation is very very good news.
 
Chapter 39 - Free Cities, Free Worship, Free Men
(Busy busy December! Haven't even had time to play the last five years of my Hanover game. But I have found time to write again.)


Chapter 39 - Free Cities, Free Worship, Free Men

March 1703


Fredrich Wilhelm IV was shocked out of his usual daily routine with the arrival of some bizarre news from Norway. He had been anticipating some news from General von Stille regarding the ongoing attempt to subdue East Frisia. After the incident in Hont, Friedrich Wilhelm IV had ensured that a full investigation followed by a highly-publicized court martial went forward, and dozens of punishments were handed out with consideration of each individual own culpability. The more reckless soldiers were either executed or dishonorably discharged, and several officers were demoted or censured. Von Stille escaped public punishment, but Friedrich Wilhelm IV let him know what was to be expected when Prussian troops captured a city from this day forward. Then von Stille was sent back to the low countries to resume subduing them once he was confident that Silesia would not be causing any more trouble.

However, there were also many reports about how the Frisians, who took control of much of the eastern Netherlands in the last peace treaty, were mismanaging the land. There was a growing call for Prussia to intervene and take direct control. He had been weighing his options when the message from Norway arrived.

He wasn’t surprised that a distant relative was requesting a favor; he got them all the time. Some of them were from actual family members. Norway wasn’t even that much of a surprise, in retrospect, despite the novelty of it. Wasn’t there some royal marriage in the distant past?

No, the biggest surprise was the fact that Norway even existed at all. He had thought that the mainland had been consumed by Sweden and the Norse New World holdings absorbed by France’s colonies, but consultation with the royal cartographers and genealogists, excited that their knowledge was actually needed, revealed that the matter of the letter was true. The crown of Norway was in the hands of a von Gersdorff, and he maintained control over several Caribbean islands.

Unfortunately for this von Gersdorff, his rule was crumbling, and he needed financial aid. Judging by his ability to keep rebellious underlings pacified, he would bring dishonor to the Gersdorff name. His aunts and uncles and cousins and stepmother and wife were constantly playing political games off one another and with the various vassal princes; it was only because they were so numerous and distracted by each other’s machinations that he was able to govern undisturbed. This outsider would be eaten alive in the Berlin court.

Still, it amused him that Norway was still around, and the potential gain in influence was worth the modest cost in ducats. He approved the funds, then resumed weighing the matter of Frisia.

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July 1704


Grateful for any distraction in the summer heat, a Frisian farmer paused his work when he saw the Prussian army column marching along the road two fields over. He had been admiring the organization of it, how individual companies traveled together escorting wagons of supplies.

“Looks like we are trading one overlord for another,” spat a voice next to him. The farmer turned his head to see that his neighbor had managed to silently approach him while he had been engrossed by the martial sight.

“At least they brought their own supplies,” he replied, considering the positive side of the annexation. “We’ll be spared hungry soldiers seizing our crops. “

“They’re sparing our crops because they are setting up shop. Is it any coincidence that as soon as the Emperor took personal control of East Frisia, the rest of the region was claimed as well?”

“Nothing has changed. We still are members of the Empire, even if the Emperor had to take direct control of our region to facilitate troop movements.”

“I can’t believe that you believe that propaganda. Look, I’m as loyal to the Emperor as the next man, but Prussian involvement will not be good for us. The recruiters are already starting to expand the Canton system out here. Do you want your sons sent off to die in some distant war?”

“That risk existed before. It doesn’t matter to us if Prussia or Frisia or the Netherlands collect or taxes, or if a general rather than a duke stands between us and the Emperor.”

“Prussia is different. We are about to be absorbed by their system, and I fear they will not be easily dislodged.”

“It is just another army.”

“It may be just another army, but that’s not why they’re dangerous. In most countries, the army is there to support the state. But in Prussia, the state supports the army.”

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June 1706



Gebhard Schach smiled as the teenage prince sliced through a ribbon with his ceremonial sword at the opening of the newly renovated fortress at Ponzan. The old stronghold had been a weak point sought out by Austria in recent conflicts. Gebhard was an engineer by trade, and his service as a young artillery officer showed him how to tear walls down as well as build them up. He knew what was needed to improve Prussia’s fortifications, and was glad to have an Emperor who knew his talents.

Many thought the Emperor naive due to his embrace of radical ideas, but he maintained a strong grip on Prussia and ruled with a sort of enlightened absolutism. Now he was known as a conqueror after claiming a third of the Netherlands. As Protestantism spread throughout the Holy Roman Empire, he had proclaimed Prussia as the Defender of the Faith and protector of the Protestants. Many individuals in the new territories prescribed to a Reformed faith, but he surprised many by his religious tolerance. In a generous move of cultural exchange, Prussian missionaries headed into Frisia to teach the people of their beliefs, while many Frisian religious leaders were invited to Berlin and flattered at court.

The government of Frisia, reduced to a single province, accepted the offer to become a legally recognized free city. Soon after, Ulm agreed to similar protection. The Emperor was currently celebrating the moving of the Trade Ministry headquarters to the province of East Frisia, so he could not attend the opening of the rebuilt fortress on the other side of Prussia. The young heir, his cousin who was confusingly also named Fredrich Wilhelm, would have to represent the crown at Ponzan.

Gebhard thought the lad likeable enough, but a little dumb. He also judged that Friedrich Wilhelm would be just as decent an officer as the other von Gersdorff princes; able to fit into the military machine easily and be a skilled if not particularly creative commander. After the surprise losses in the von Gersdorff family in the previous decade, the princeling was guarded closely. After a scheme by his aunt Hildegrad to kidnap him quietly unraveled, Gebhard Jaina worked with his mother, Joanna of Hesse, and moved him around and kept him mostly out of the public eye. He needed to be seen by the people sometimes, though, and he would soon be old enough to enroll in the prestigious Armin academy. It was difficult to keep the prince engaged after his father died and his cousin was absorbed by duties of the state, but like a fortification, Gebhard would build the boy up.

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Very interesting, for a moment there I thought you might be about to take some Caribbean colonies when Norway's remaining possessions were revealed.

Prussia's gained a great deal of very rich land in the west with the end of the war. It does look a little messy though... Perhaps the map will need to be tidied up a little by the Prussian army?
 
Very interesting, for a moment there I thought you might be about to take some Caribbean colonies when Norway's remaining possessions were revealed.

Prussia's gained a great deal of very rich land in the west with the end of the war. It does look a little messy though... Perhaps the map will need to be tidied up a little by the Prussian army?

Netherlands are the first priority; dont worry those islands are on the list.
 
Chapter 40 - Golden Eagle
Chapter 40 – Golden Eagle


September 1707


“Yes, my Lord Ambassadors, yes, right this way.” Viktor von PreuBen stumbled on a step as he walked backwards down a familiar narrow hallway. He dropped some of the maps and copies of treaties that he carried. A couple of young pages, who by now able to predict when the clumsy old man would trip, scooped them up. Viktor himself spun around on the ball of his foot, then fell forward, but grabbed the stairs in front of him and stumbled forward just enough to regain his footing.

“Mein Gott!” shouted the lead Hamburger “Are you alright, man?”

“Just fine, err.” He stuttered, suddenly realizing that his hat was on backwards. A couple of the other Hamburg representatives giggled, but everyone sensibly ignored them.

By the time they had reached Friedrich Wilhelm IV’s study, he had gotten his clothing straightened up.

“Emperor, I don’t mean to disturb you, but...”

“Ah,” said Friedrich Wilhelm. “Ambassador, my apologies for not getting back with you. As you understand, these are...difficult times.”

“You have my sympathies, Emperor. I’m sure the boy will pull through.” Said the Ambassador. “The Elector sends his regards as well.”

Less than three weeks ago, there was an unfortunate accident. The young crown prince was training in artillery command, he was ordering a green crew of cannoneers and pointing out targets on the firing range when the explosion happened. Exactly which of the inexperienced soldiers was responsible was debated; two of them were killed instantly, one lost an arm and almost a dozen were injured by shrapnel. The Emperor’s cousin had been blown backwards and struck his head on the next cannon in the line.

While he was conscious, able to eat, and slowly recovering from the relatively minor burns and cuts, it was clear that he would never walk, talk or play chess again. While everyone was grateful that he would live, it was clear that he would not be physically nor mentally capable of ruling and would have to be cut out of the line of succession.

That possibility opened up a can of worms. At least four branches of the von Gerdorff family might be ambitious enough to take advantage of the situation. Vera in Ansbach was eyeing the prince’s lands in Hesse, Hildegrad was no doubt concocting another mad plan, and no less than three other male cousins served in the Prussian officer corps.

Viktor was concerned about the potential effects that he weighed the possibility that the explosion was no accident. He had begun an investigation and had scheduled an interview with the only other surviving soldier who had been near the cannon, but the young man had unfortunately succumbed to his injuries just a few days ago.

The military advisor, Gebhard Schach, was blaming himself, as he had suggested the reserve artillery to be both an educational and relatively safe posting for the heir to the throne. Gebhard was still in his early thirties, and he would learn in time that it wasn’t his fault. The Schachs were a traditional military family who owed everything to the crown of Prussia. Viktor had no reason to doubt his innocence, but after that the list of suspects was long. Or mabye it was just an accident. Accidents happen all the time, as the abrasions on his hands reminded Viktor of his latest embarrassing stumble on the palace steps.

There was no doubt that Prussia would help the electorate of Hamburg expand the Holy Roman Empire deeper into Scandinavia. The prospect of warfare seemed to focus the Emperor, and Viktor noticed him slowly come back to life as the reality of the need to mobilize the state set in. But Viktor hoped that the project did not cause too much of a distraction, for Fredrich Wilhelm IV still needed to win the battle within himself and find the courage to spend time alone with his wife.

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February 1710



Aniela woke from a shudder after a frightened dream. Recently, she had heard reports about shipments of seditious tracts of propaganda being intercepted by Prussian border guards. They had called for the overthrow and execution of all princes, kings and emperors. She suffered from nightmares often, but the population rising up to execute the nobility was a new one.

This was clearly the result of her husband’s strange and disturbing ideas about the rights of the people. Clearly, the peasants have gotten ideas about their own self-importance. As she ate breakfast, her nerves calmed and she was able to rationally realize that such dangerous were unlikely, uprisings had always been quickly suppressed by the Prussian army and they lived in probably the most prosperous time in history. She felt grateful that she was born at the top of society, it almost compensated her for all the stress that came with it.

It was not the life she choose. If she wasn’t so aware of her father’s cruel anger, she would not have married Friedrich Wilhelm IV. From a long line of intimidating namesakes, the Emperor had nothing but distaste for her. She preferred to avoid him, but the elder Empress Janina and the other noblewomen were capable of their own cruelties.

The war against Sweden was fortunately occupying most people’s attention in the wake of that horrible cannon accident. She had been largely left alone, which she preferred, but still the sounds of cannons made her jump. The clumsy trade minister Vikor von PreuBen had visited, and awkwardly asked questions about what she knew about the accident and if she had anything to gain. She repeated the truth, that she did not know anything, that she did not have ambitious for her children.

She did not like the way that the Emperor touched her the few times they slept together. Since both seemed to abhor each other’s presence more than they wanted children of their own, and there were plenty of other von Gersdorff cousins in line that it did not seem necessary. There were Friedrich Georges and Wilhelm Friedrichs and Georg Wilhelms and even a Friedrich Wilhelm Georg mixed in there. If she ever had children, they would only have one name.

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April 1713



“Mazel Tov!” said the administrative advisor, Thomas von Ziethen, after hearing the news that Fredrich Wilhelm IV would not be attending the council meeting in order to attend to the Empress and his newborn son, Friedrich. Thomas noticed that Gebhard Schach broke into one of his rare smiles upon hearing the news. He had helped engineer the victory over Sweden, though Hamburg took the lead on negotiations, taking a major swatch of Scandinavian territory and returning some land to the Norwegian government-in-exile, but still blamed himself for the tragic cannon explosion many years ago.

“I don’t know how you did it, Benedikt, to mind things between our royal couple.” Thomas added. The other minister, Benedikt Treskaw, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Diplomacy.” Replied Benedikt Treskaw after a short pause. The man was a silver-tongued social climber, noticed for his ability to cover for Fredrich Wilhelm IV’s faux paus during the peace negotiations with Sweden. After Viktor von PreuBen broke his neck falling down the stairs again, Treskaw was a natural pick to fill the position.

“Speaking of diplomacy,” continued Treskaw as he straightened up in his chair, “we do have a meeting scheduled. Things are proceeding well in the Netherlands, and I have made our merchants and officers know that the Dutch should be treated with all the respect they deserve as full citizens.”

“Splendid,” said Thomas. He approved. Although Prussia was ruled with a strong, absolutist fist, Fredrich Wilhelm IV was very tolerant towards his subjects. Thomas was glad that his own talents were recognized, as there were times in Prussia’s past, such as during the era of the zealous Georg Wilhelm, when Jews like him were not as accepted.

“What about the Commonwealth?” asked Schach, “The addition of the Dutch provinces to our realm has strained the burden on our military-state.”

“Anton?” asked Benedikt, and in seconds his prodigious aide had the necessary files in hand. The three advisors then poured over the details of Prussia’s new arrangement with the Polish people. The old Commonwealth state would be reconstituted as a march, with the understanding that any future lands liberated from the Ottomans would fall under either it or Danzig’s jurisdiction.

“Finally,” said Benedikt Treskaw once the details of the Commonwealth march were hammered out, “We need to address this currency scheme of yours, Ziethen.”

“The treasury is running dry,” rationalized Thomas von Ziethen, “and the revenues from Frisia haven’t fully geared up. We are just debasing the coinage a slight percentage to keep the budget balanced.”

“That sort of metallurgic trickery inevitably leads to corruption. But on the whole, I would say that we are moving in the right direction. This meeting is adjourned; let’s go meet our new prince.”

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(I resumed my Hanover game after a break. Miscalculated the first battle; thought a smaller force could take down a larger but demoralized force in a sneak attack, turns out demoralized endgame cannons can still kill by the thousands. Whoops. I could flight out this coalition war until the end of the game, but it's unlikely that I can turn the war around, capture most of whats left of England and core it in the 2.5 years before 1821. GG. Started a new game as Ming to see what life is like in East Asia. Have some RP constraints that I put on myself that might make good AAR material...once the Prussia project is done.)
 
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A very unfortunate accident for the crown prince, I doubt what was left of the cannon had even cooled down before the plotters started talking to one another in dark corners.

As for Ming as the next AAR, that sounds very good, no spoilers please!
 
at least the new Heir is a hell of a man
 
A very unfortunate accident for the crown prince, I doubt what was left of the cannon had even cooled down before the plotters started talking to one another in dark corners.

As for Ming as the next AAR, that sounds very good, no spoilers please!

You got it! I dont think the Navajo, Rattanpur and Hamburg games summarized in the comments would make good AARs, but either Ming or the Venice->Italy game will be the next project after this one. As far as Ming goes, no more will be said!

at least the new Heir is a hell of a man

I dont know if he is supposed to be the Great Frederick of our timeline repressented in the game (several dubious lineage changes in this AAR so far, so is likely to be a different person...) but history may remember this Frederick fondly...
 
Chapter 41 - Encircled
Chapter 41 – Encircled



April 1714



Anton Ortmann was stressed out. While he had always been complimented for his intelligence and charm, he thought that he might have finally found a job that was difficult for him as the Prussian minister of State. If he had spent a few more years as his predecessor’s assistant, he felt that he would have been more prepared. However, when the Emperor’s uncle, Georg von Gersdorff, retired from his position as speaker, Benedikt Treskaw has tapped to fill the position and Anton found himself promoted earlier than expected.

Many of the legislators preferred to have one of their own in the position, and the Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm IV himself had often publicly wished for more public participation in the legislative process. However, the threat of Friedrich Wilhelm IV’s liberal reforms suddenly made many conservative nobles interested in politics again. Georg von Gersdorff was an obstinate bullwark to his nephew’s ambitions. The King in Prussia had always had the ability to directly appoint the Speaker, but not wanting to upset the balance of power within the inner circle Friedrich Wilhelm IV decided to look outside the family.

While the Emperor himself was disappointed that he could not embrace his ideals and let the conservative nobles nominate one of their own, Anton believed that only a strong will could bring about real change. Only an enlightened monarch could modernize the state and compel compliance. He knew that Treskaw did not believe as strongly in enlightenment principles as Anton and the Emperor did, but his old boss knew how to please those who paid him.

Although he was well-respected and received the appropriate honors from all of the nobles and bureaucrats he worked with, Anton found projecting Prussian power diplomatically more challenging than expected. Lately the small province of Gelre was the focus of his attention. He was trying every trick he knew to convince them to become a free city in order to better protect them, but they stubbornly refused.

But the biggest source of stress was that despite his best efforts he got drawn into von Gersdorff family politics. He did not recognize the Emperor’s Aunt Vera when she stormed into his office demanding that Saxony be forced to return the land of Ansbach that they had seized from her. Thinking she was just a minor member of the displaced Ansbach nobility, he told her that he was putting pressure on them already but not to expect any results, as Saxony was backed up by Prussia’s old foes of Austria and the Netherlands. She was insistent, so Anton promised to try harder. Anton had found out later that Vera had made her request to the Emperor first and that he had made a noncommittal response, and that she had gone to other family members after speaking to Anton and told them that he had promised to enforce her claim to the territory.

When the other von Gersdorff’s found out, they were furious. One of the cousins, Wilhelm Georg von Gersdorff, had many business investments in Saxony and almost challenged Anton to a duel over the matter before Treskaw appeared and smoothed everything over. However, Saxony was not going to hand over the land willingly. While Anton always appreciated a challenge, the stakes were much higher when family rivalries and political rivalries meet.

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November 1714



“My friends, this process has taken years, but finally we are victorious!”

The ragtag garrison of the remote mountain fortress of Trencin broke into applause upon hearing the news from their commander.

“We have broken the chains of Silesia,” continued the commander, “and the hope of the Magyar people live on. Hungary as an independent nation exists once again!”

He was glad that they had persevered. For years, they had sieged down this this fortress. Tragedy struck after they had captured it, most of the army outside the walls found themselves caught between the larger Ottoman and Russian armies clashing in the area. Then, the survivors huddled while Silesian counter-seigers assailed them. Eventually the Silesians were called away and massacred in some other conflict. The Hungarians were forgotten and once the dust settled had emerged once again as a reconstituted nation.

The exhausted soldiers’ celebration was drowned out by the sound of a horn from up above. Dropping his drink, the commander rushed upstairs to see what the sentry had found. A distant army was slowly approaching. He took the telescope from the sentry and examined the approaching force.

His heart sank when he saw the Prussian banner.

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February 1720



Like many Prussian monarchs before him, Fredrich Wilhelm IV returned to Berlin victorious. The Netherlands, Saxony and Austria formed a united bloc against the Prussian military, but ultimately could not halt imperial ambitions in the low countries. In addition, the nations of Oldenburg and the Palatinate regained their independence. Diplomatic relations between Austria and the Netherlands were severed, and Saxony itself was literally severed in twain. After the death of Aunt Vera, few mourned Ansbach aside of Imperial bookkeepers. Rather than resurrect Ansbach, he had chosen to give land to Hesse, so that the family of his disabled cousin Freddy would be more comfortable.

He was glad that the diplomat Treskaw had been able to get him to see his wife in a new light. He did not know if he would ever love her, but he had discovered how to respect her. Starting a family and following up the young heir with a few daughters solidified the main branch of the Gersdorffs. The various cadet branches still competed for influence, but a lot less furiously.

He was able to visit Berlin frequently during the long conflict, to both watch his family grow and attend to matters of state, a luxury that the Prussian dukes of old did not have. He studied the latest in siege techniques and, after seizing on an opportunity to secure a relatively unguarded mountain fort right on Austria’s border was able to gain the upper hand in the subsequent conflict. He also brought the latest in philosophy and self-improvement to the front lines, and worked to hone his soldier’s minds as well as their bodies. The best of his students were able to maintain focus under extreme stress and pain, adding endurance and staying power to what were already one of the most disciplined armies in the world.

If only the Landtag was dealt with as easily. The various divided interests frequently joined forces whenever new reforms were proposed, and it was rumored but never proven that Treskaw took bribes to ensure that the wheels of government moved slowly. Anton Ortmann always argued that Fredrich Wilhelm IV should exercise his royal prerogative and overrule them, but the Emperor knew that he had to rule my example. He could not encourage more participation in government by the public and also overrule them. He was bound by honor.

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Chapter 42 - Authority
Chapter 42 Authority


February 1726


“I do apologize for the Emperor’s maple syrup remark. He means no offence; he just doesn’t understand the cultural context.”

“Eh, I’ve heard worse from the dockworkers in East Frisia.”

Anton Ortmann sighed with relief; the Canadian envoy was much harder to offend than most other foreign officials that he had to smooth over after meeting with Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm IV.

“That is a relief. Tell me, how is your young nation finding independence?”

“Well, eh, it is refreshing to be free of Scottish...eh, oversight, dontchaknow.” Replied the envoy, a man named Albrecht Derfflinger. Anton suspected that Albrecht wanted to use a stronger word than “oversight”. “Tyranny” was one that many of the saltier Canadian merchants and sailors used; it seemed that they were everywhere in the English Channel in the six years since Canada gained independence. The economic controls that Scotland maintained over its Nova Scotia colony were widely resented, and while the Scottish homeland was under occupation by its enemies the Canadians recognized their opportunity. It was surprising to many of those who often dealt with the Americas, but they sent to Scotland a polite declaration of independence and sensibly set about running their own affairs. With the Scottish navy in tatters and countryside devastated, they were unable to contest it.

Anton had watched with increasing curiosity to see how the former colony did, as a colonial-style republican form of government that had not been tested at that scale before. So far, it was holding steady, and had recently started sending representatives around the globe to secure trade deals.

“Herr Derfflinger, do you mind a personal question?”

“Nope.”

“You speak excellent German, and you have a German name. I was wondering about your ancestry, and if there are many Germans in Canada.”

“You are very observant. Scotish colonial charter companies were not above recruiting non-Scots. There are a few minority German communities in several provinces. Some of my ancestors actually came to the New World to escape the Polish occupation of Brandenburg, centuries ago, eh.”

“Those were dark days for the Holy Roman Empire.” Orton replied.

“Your country is doing well too, eh.”

Orton smiled slightly. It was a clumsy pivot, but Derfflinger had a point. In the last few years of peace and prosperity, he had worked to double the size of the Prussian navy, juggle an army of spies and diplomats, please the Burghers, and increase the total of free cities in the Holy Roman Empire to seven. Gelre still refused that sort of protection, but the possibilities of who might be the eighth was a perennial topic in the informal parlor discussions of the intellgencia. The new access to the international trade routes brought new beverages from the far corners of the world to the masses, and coffee shops and tea rooms were springing up all over Prussia. With the trendy social settings came lively debates on all topics. Friedrich Wilhelm IV, a fan of philosophy himself, encouraged such discussions, sometimes even accidently revealing state secrets in his own reasoned opinion pieces.

“As the Imperial state, Prussia takes responsibility for the peace and prosperity of all its citizens. Which reminds me...we still need to discuss fishing rights....”

The trade deal was already practically sewn up, including the part about fishing rights. However, Anton needed to do some fishing of his own. Canada bordered both Spanish and French colonies, and with Paris under Spanish dominion there was no love lost between the two powers. He wanted to know where Canada stood.

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May 1728



Prince Friedrich carefully snuck back into the palace after an evening carousing with his friends and getting to know some of the ladies of Berlin. He had just turned 15, and with his mother hiding in her room and everyone else in the government occupied with some dumb military “police action” on Bornholm, he felt free to do whatever he wanted.

“So that is where you have been.”

Spinning around drunkenly, Friedrich saw the last person he wanted to run into. The sour theologian Adolf Riwotzski, the newest addition to the Imperial Court, was frowning at him disapprovingly, lit only by a single candle in his hand.

“Where did you say I was, Ratsky? Who told you?”

“It’s obvious. You were gone all afternoon and then you woke up half the palace clambering though these halls. Also we had people tailing you. By noon half of Prussia will have heard gossip of your escapades and....indiscretions. I’ll see you in church before then, princeling?

Friedrich suddenly realized how much trouble he was in. “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“I’ll see you in church.” Repeated Riwotzski as he left.

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July 1729



Friedrich Wilhelm IV looked over the maps and battle plans; everything seemed set. Years of preparation had been devoted to this upcoming operation.

The biggest threat to Imperial authority was the fact that there were five Holy Roman provinces that for centuries had been under the domain of the Spanish Empire. Now that Prussia had a presence in the western HRE, he was able to give it his attention. While Prussia had six vassal states and two strong allies in Russia and Hamburg, Spain had domain over Iberia, almost all of the New World, southern Italy and numerous islands and other possessions around the globe. They had even controlled Paris for so long that it was no longer considered the capital city of the French people but just another Spanish-speaking city.

Fortunately, he had gambled that France and Morocco would be more than willing to try to reclaim lost territory. They had joined the war effort readily once France had finished its latest war with Great Britian.

However, this time when the armies of Prussia marched, they would be without many of their familiar leaders. Time comes for all men, but Friedrich Wilhelm IV would miss the particular advice and skill of such men as Gebhard Schach and General von Stille. He could rely upon his cousin Friedrich Albrecht as military advisor, Admiral Posadofsky and the father-and-son generals of Thomas and Kurt von Bimback, but this time he himself was the most experienced leader.

While France and Morocco engaged the Spaniards, he was splitting Prussia’s artillery into two siege parties, with most of the rest of the army following close behind to provide support if needed. Thomas von Bimback would lead one group to capture the Holy Roman provinces to the east of France while Fredrich Wilhelm IV would lead the other one from the northeast, hoping to secure the disputed territory as quick as possible. Almost everyone discouraged him from leading the army himself, but there wasn’t anyone else who had the knowledge of sieges necessary to pull off the plan.

The only one who agreed with him was Anton Ortmann, who had followed his mentor, Benedikt Treskaw, from the diplomatic advisor to the Speaker’s seat in the Landtag after the elder man suffered a stroke and had to retire. They both agreed that good governance depended on having the right men in positions of authority. He had more confidence in Ortmann than Treskaw in enacting many of the reforms he wished implemented, and once all Holy Roman provinces were free from foreign control they would be able to devote all their energy to it.



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(Author's Note: I think this was about the point in the game where I started really studying army composition and started having dedicated siege stacks, battle stacks, reinforcement stacks etc. I also have no idea why I invaded Denmark...perhaps to get at an ally who needed converting to Protestant? Perhaps it was an ill-considered invasion I aborted? At some point I'll capture, core, add to empire, and release it as Imperial prince, but I don't think I did that yet. Finally, I did not realize this as the time but I should have just used Imperialism or Nationalism CB on those provinces instead of Holy Roman Reclaimation. That CB cannot be used to take non-imperial provinces, not even ally's cores that you promised them. This will cause some diplomatic issues when the peace deal is reached...)

Even more of the rich Dutch lands secured! Excellent news. I can't help feeling a little sorry for the Hungarians false dawn though...

They may not have their day yet, but at least there is independent Canada. I am still excited to see the AI form modern nations.
 
Chapter 43 - The Lot of Kings
Chapter 43 – The Lot of Kings



March 1730



He has been but a boy when he first heard of Prussia burning down the city of Hont on the other side of the Holy Roman Empire. As he grew, he heard rumors of armies being taken down by Prussian forces. Then he heard the grown-ups, in whispered words, speak of their armies clashing with Prussia’s, and marching home in defeat.

Then, they burned down his grandfather’s farm. Then a neighbor, who had always warned about Prussia taking over their country, was shot. Then, the Prussian troops went away, and nothing happened for a few years. He went on with his life.

Then, his brothers were conscripted, one by one. Then their bodies returned, one by one. His father, on his deathbed, wanted the farm to stay in the family. Under Fredrich Wilhelm “The Conqueror” IV’s revised canton system, he would have been exempt from further conscription. However, it was now personal. So he volunteered for their army, and learned their methods, and their weapons, and their tactics. He marched with them, fought with them and learned how they thought. He saw many of his countrymen mingle and bond with their German overlords, but he alone was able to stay focused on the task.

After mustering out, he sold the farm to some rich Prussian, as many of his fellow countrymen did. Unlike most of the others, he did not sell out of desperation, but with a purpose. He travelled to Switzerland and sought out the most discrete weaponsmith he could find. He was able to find the latest flintlock hunting rifle, with unbelievable range. The barrel was absurdly long, but he was able to remove it for easy smuggling. When he heard of the Prussian armies on the march again, he purchased a cart and filled it with mundane supplies. He slipped into the chain of followers behind the army. At camp, he would don his old uniform and infiltrate the troops. Eventually, he had the opportunity he was looking for.

He had learned about how a different king of Prussia, one even more fearful than this one, had been killed by a nationalistic hero, and was inspired. He knew how to get revenge and save his homeland. He held no delusions about what would happen if he was captured afterwards, but it was the only way.

Once the army had set in for the siege, the Emperor went to inspect the artillery deployment personally. Concealed in the cart, he braced the flintlock rifle and waited for the master of the Prussians to signal the cannons. As the crack of cannons blasting upon the fortress echoed through the air, the assassin fired as well.

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September 1730



Anton Ortmann struggled with his spectacles to make sense of the plans that the young Friedrich III had presented to him. He wondered if he was finally going fully blind, or even mad.

“What is this?” he finally asked.

“Sans souci, Mr. Ortmann. Sans souci! A modest residence, more fitted to my tastes.”

“I’ve seen drawings of your dream clubhouses before. You have a home in Berlin, and we have a war to fight. You can build your dreamhouse later. We all have to make sacrifices.”

“Don’t lecture me about sacrifices!” yelled Fredrich III. “I lost my father...”

“Prussia lost its father,” interrupted Adolf Riwotzki. He had been working to spread propaganda, honing the people’s rage over the loss of the beloved Friedrich Wilhelm IV before releasing it against Spain. The assassin was shot down soon after the vile deed, and his motives remain a mystery. Preliminary investigations revealed that he was a veteran Prussian soldier, obviously driven to madness, but there was enough ambiguity in the circumstances to easily shift blame to Spain.

“Listen, Ratsky...I’m your King and Emperor....”

“The Landtag won’t approve the funds anyway, your majesty. We are at war.” Interjected Ortmann. He knew that he needed to keep the King and Emperor on track.

“Why should they have any say? Who gave them that power?”

“Your father.”

Before Fredrich III could speak, his uncle Friedrich Albrecht interjected. “We are at war, your majesty,” he agreed, fumbling with a map. An early victory by Admiral Posadofsky inflicted heavy casualties against the Spanish trade fleet, but they were recovering in a French port before the Spanish Armada showed up. General Thomas von Bimback was liberating occupied French land near the Pyrenees; he was utilizing the latest in artillery tactics to move swiftly through the area. The techniques, known as the “Schach School of Warfare” after the instructor of both von Bimback and Friedrich III’s father, were leading to quick fort captures and the French and others started adopting them. The Spanish were gaining the upper hand in North Africa and the New World, so despite the capture of the Spanish continental exclaves the war was far from over.

Noticing the young emperor start to sulk, Ortmann looked up from the map. “Cheer up, your majesty. Think of the glory to be won.”

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June 1731



“Was that your first battle?”

Hans nodded, as he stared at the line of wounded men returning from the carnage. After the Emperor got killed he volunteered and joined the army, and soon met new friends who came from all across Prussia, everywhere from Koningsburg to Frisia. Now some of them were dead.

“It was my first battle, too,” continued the high-pitched voice. It was coming from another young private that he had met recently named Nikolaus.

“It was?” asked Hans. “You managed to stay calm...I was just struggling to reload my musket while everything was blowing up...”

Nikolaus shrugged. The short, beardless youth stood and walked the with assurance of a more experienced soldier. “I guess I must be a natural, Hans.”

Was that a smile on that blood-stained face? Some soldiers were crazy. Hans had been frightened the entire time, himself. Officially, it was to be known as the battle of Labourd, but it was already being referred to as the Battle Royale. Charles X of France led his army to retake a border fort, but Enrique V of Spain descended down upon him. It had been ages since two kings brought their armies together in battle personally. The French were in an inferior position. General von Bimback remained with the artillery but ordered the reserve force of which Hans was a part to reinforce the battle. The Prussians had arrived just in time to turn the tide and send Enrique V running back into Spain.

“I’m just lucky to be alive, Nikolaus.”

“Too bad Enrique got away. I was hoping to get revenge for Friedrich Wilhelm IV.”

“Yea, it might have been worth it then.”

Nikolaus grinned. “It’s a shame we lost the Emperor, but at least we have a new one to be proud of. It would have been interesting if Friedrich III was here to make it a three-king fight, but I understand if his advisors won’t let him take the field after what happened to his father. It is a victory, though.”
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Chapter 44 - Royal Prerogative
Chapter 44 Royal Prerogative



September 1732



Amidst the sound of positive cheer and organ music, the new royal couple began walking down the aisle of Scholtheim cathedral. Friedrich III winked at Ratsky, wondering if the dull moralist thought that he made an honest man out of the Emperor. The fool. He took his bride by the arm, and glared at the assembled nobles of the court, as if daring them to gossip about her growing belly.

Even if the pregnancy was a surprise, Friedrich III was found of Sabine of Danzig, a distant cousin. Unlike most of his other flings, she was far more experimental in the bedchamber and was even open to bringing in another woman or man in to join them on occasion. She also did not seem to care what he got onto with his other lady callers, and he did not care what she did with her other partners. Was it a good match? He didn’t know, but now that the Emperor had an Empress and soon an heir, perhaps his advisors would get off his back.

Ratsky would probably still find something to judge, he was sure. Uncle Friedrich Albrecht was a true military professional and would have less to complain about as long as appearances were kept. The trade advisor, Joachim von Hohezollern, was as difficult to read as always. Friedrich III never trusted him. The family was from relatively low noble status but had lately been becoming more prominent. He had received conflicting information as to whether the Hohenzollerns were related to the Brandenburg electors of old.

Despite his ambitions for the wedding celebration, it was still an elegant if scaled-down affair. The one thing that the various political factions in Ortmann’s Landtag agreed on was prioritizing the blasted war instead of parties.

The success of generals such as the Bimback family seemed to be drawing the war to a close fortunately. Not only had the Spanish king Enrique V succumbed to an infection from the many wounds he took while skirmishing against advancing Prussian forces in Iberia, but Madrid had fallen.

The only remaining obstacle to peace was how to claim the five Imperial provinces that were the reason for this whole mess. France was occupying three of them, and only wanted two for themselves, but would not hand over occupation of the third. The way things were looking, a second war would be needed against Spain, and should France be awarded any of the territories in question, one against them would be necessary as well. He still had not received an adequate explanation as to why non-Imperial provinces could not be ceded despite both France and Morocco having been promised land. The diplomatic situation made his head hurt.

It was best not to think about it for the moment. Sans Souci. He gave an exaggerated, mocking bow to his mother and younger sisters as he walked past, and winked at or nodded to or ignored each of the extended von Gersdorffs in a way calculated to annoy them individually. Some were upset that this marriage and the impending heir undercut their own ambitions, others were delighted that the marriage brought them closer to the main branch of the family. At the rear of the chapel, his disabled cousin Wilhelm Friedrich sat alone, fascinated by the music and stained glass. Friedrich III patted him on the shoulder affectionately; here was a man who truly lived without a care.

When they reached the large doors at the end, Sabine nudged his ribs. Laughing, he bent over and kissed her passionately, scandalizing many of the more conservative attendees. Then they skipped down the steps, giggling, past the well-wishers who were not prestigious enough for a seat inside, towards their waiting carriage.



February 1733
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Queen Isabel de Trastamara of Spain, exhausted and travelworn, returned to Madrid to the cheers of her subjects. She had just returned from the signing of the peace treaty with Prussia, but it took months to return over the winter. The roads of Spain had a reputation for being poor, and the devastation from the war made travel even worse. Now that she had seen the condition of the countryside for herself, she would have to devote some attention to it.

Although Spain had gotten the better of Morocco and her colonies were victorious in the New World, the death of her father and the subsequent flood of enemies crossing the Pyrenees made celebrations premature.

The saving grace was discord amongst the aggressors. Arguments on how to carve up the Spanish possessions led to the young King Friedrich III cutting off negotiations with his allies and came to her directly. While she did not appreciate the way the Prussian ruler leered at her unsubtlety, she was able to empathize with him over the loss of both their respective fathers during the course of the useless war. Friedrich III also had a newborn daughter, Paula, and Isabel thought of her own son as she bargained with him to end this costly, meaningless war.

She agreed to cede two provinces and some cash. The price was steep, but it was worth it to witness the Moroccan and French envoys, enraged, leave the city before she did, Prussian diplomats in close pursuit. Intelligence reports delivered en route to Madrid filled Isabel in on Prussia’s desperate attempts to prevent the alliances from collapsing.

They had offered knowledge sharing to the Moroccans and arranged a quick royal marriage between one of Friedrich III’s younger sisters and King Charles X’s youngest brother. It may not be enough, she wagered.

As she neared her residence, she almost didn’t recognize her son Francisco as he ran out into the garden to meet her. As she hugged him, she felt relief for the first time in years. The split of French and Prussian relations might be healed one day, but she had her own plans for the future of France. In the meantime, that gave Prussia’s remaining allies of Russian and Hamburg influence and leverage for their own plans.

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August 1735



Sergeant Hans could not believe his eyes as he totaled up the number of bodies on the carts being taken from the battlefields deep in Ottoman territory, destined for Gniezno. He did not want to even think about what they were being used for.

“How many corpses do you think they need, Hans?” asked his dear friend Nikolaus Holtzendorff. Hans shut his eyes and tried not to think about it.

After the war in Spain wound up, he had thought that he had seen enough death. However, no sooner was the ink dry on the peace treaty when Russia called in Prussia to aid with their latest clash against the Ottomans. While crossing Europe, General Thomas von Bimback succumbed to typhoid fever. Hans had been hoping to be assigned to the command of Thomas’s son, Kurt, but instead he was transferred, along with Nik, to the command of Albrecht von Buhler.

This next generation of generals was already showing a reputation for ruthlessness. In addition to von Buhler, a general named Nikolaus von Hohenzollern was also making a name for himself against the Ottomans. Hans could not remember where he heard the name Hohenzollern before, but apparently his father was an important figure in the Imperial court.

“At least...five hundred,” mumbled Hans, trying not to dwell on the horrors of it, “In this convoy alone.”

“Seems low,” teased Nik, “But of course, not every corpse is suitable...the doctors don’t want any that have been blown up.”

Hans barely held on to his lunch.

“Don’t worry, Hans. I’m just ribbing you. It’s all in jest. You know I’ll watch out for you.”

That part was true. Nikolaus Holtzendorff was a rising star in the army, regularly demonstrating courage and leadership. When Nikolaus was promoted to Sergeant, some strings were pulled, and Hans was promoted as well...and assigned to the quartermaster. It was a job more suited to his talents and temperament. Even officers who mocked him for his weak stomach for violence praised him for his organizational skill, especially when he managed to find extra bottles of whiskey in the stores and save them for key individuals.

“You’re right, Nik. Thank you for finding this job. It’s easier to count corpses than make them.” He did not need to mention repayment; he knew that all that Nik wanted was for him to keep the secret they shared.

“It’s essential work, Hans. Command knows it. It’s also a skill set that will translate to civilian life, unlike mine.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You can do anything.”

Nik paused to think. “Hans, it’s sweet of you to say so, but this is the life for me. I don’t have a home to go back to.”

“Nonsense. You’ll have me.”

“Hans, you care too much. That’s why I like you,” said Nik, smiling, “But I can’t live the domestic life. Sorry.”

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(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I am constantly putting forth my ideas of the moment regarding which of my EU4 games would be my next AAR. Just want to say that I recently expanded my Paradox Library and may have another potential AAR in the works...)

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