Alternate European Colonization

[nimbletoes]

The fleet of small ships stood out from the quay, and began heading down the Thames, towards the estuary and the open sea beyond. King Charles I smiled grimly as he watched them moving with the pull of the outgoing tide. This was the last of a convoy that would number fifty ships. On board were the final remnants of the defeated Puritan Army that damned rebel Oliver Cromwell. The King looked over the Thames at the line of gibbets, each with its cage containing the body of one of Cromwell's generals. The tallest gibbet of all was reserved for the corpse of Cromwell himself, the chief rebel and traitor.

His gaze swung back down to the river, where the last of the ships was now disappearing around a bend. Except for their masts, the flotilla was hidden by buildings. There went the last of these scurvy Puritan dogs, off to a lifetime of convict slavery, literally on the other side of the world. How fortunate, Charles I thought, that the Dutch East India Company had decided against setting up a colony in the those islands...what was their name, now? Ah, yes, he thought, remembering--Niew Zeeland; named by Captain Abel Tasman, who explored the coastline of the country a year before. Savages had attacked his ship in a place he had subsequently named Murderer's Bay. Hardly surprising, therefore, that the Dutch had decided not to send people there.

All the better for us, the King mused. We could certainly use these distant, savage-infested islands as a dumping ground for our worst felons. In time to come, we may even set up a colony there ourselves...

 

[Supermanboy]

I see a TL is already blossoming I cannot lie, I really want to have a TL with a plausible Italian (Venetian, Genoan) colonization and a really solid PoD

 

[nimbletoes]

Now, there's a thought...a New Zealand ATL... There are quite a number of plausible POD's that could be explored. I'll give it some thought and put up some scenarios over the next few days.

Also, I'll give some thought to an ATL involving Venice or Genoa...

 

[Strategos' Risk]

Why don't y'all play my game?!?!?

 

[nimbletoes]

Why don't y'all play my game?!?!?

I dipped my hand in your pond and gave it a bit of a stir, General...

 

[Supermanboy]

Now, there's a thought...a New Zealand ATL... There are quite a number of plausible POD's that could be explored. I'll give it some thought and put up some scenarios over the next few days.

Also, I'll give some thought to an ATL involving Venice or Genoa...

Thank you!

 

[Julius Vogel]

Well for one, I suspect a crap load of the prisoners will die en route. They had enough trouble keeping the deathrate low during transportation to Australia with the benefit of 160 or so years of shipping and general advances.

 

[nimbletoes]

Well for one, I suspect a crap load of the prisoners will die en route. They had enough trouble keeping the deathrate low during transportation to Australia with the benefit of 160 or so years of shipping and general advances.

So, a whole bunch of convict slaves die en route to NZ...no problem; there's plenty more where they came from...the upper class always want to get rid of the lower class, perferably to the other side of the world.

 

[nimbletoes]

"Good morning, Grand Chamberlain," the Emperor said, as this high official entered the throne-room. The Chamberlain bowed low.
"Salutations, Basilus Manuel," the man said. "You called for me, Sire?"
"I have a problem, Grand Chamberlain," Manuel I Komnenos said. "Perhaps your wisdom can provide me with a solution..."
The Grand Chamberlain bowed low again. "You do me great honour, Majesty," he said. "Ask, and I shall assist you if I can."
"You will recall the destruction of the Genoese quarter of Constantinople by their enemies the Venetians, five years ago," the Emperor said.
"Indeed, Majesty, 'tis strong in the memory," the Grand Chamberlain said grimly, recalling the savage events of 1171.
"Consequently, as you will recall, we made an alliance with the Genoans, and they helped us sack Venice and enslave the entire population...but now, we have over one hundred thousand Venetians in Constantinople, who are a constant menace to good order in the city. The threat of rebellion by such a vast horde is a thought to be feared, indeed. What on Earth, literally, are we to do with these people? I am loathe to annihilate them, unless I am absolutely forced to do it. The vast majority of those people share no blame for the actions of their leaders, after all."
The Grand Chamberlain stroked his beard, deep in thought for a moment.
"It could be, your Majesty," he said at last, "that there is an easy solution to this problem--though somewhat distastful, it is less so than the obliteration of these people."
"Explain, Grand Vizier," the Emperor said.
"The recent Battle of Myriokephalan was a disaster for us," the Chamberlain said bluntly. "We could negotiate with the Seljuk Turks, and give the slaves to them as a gift..."
"Giving good Christians to Moslem warlords?" The Emperor said, aghast. "I am against that, most strongly."
"Hear me out, Basilus, I pray you," the Grand Chamberlain said. "These people will be converted to Islam, of course--either willingly or not--and it may seem at first sight that they will reinforce the Turks. However, the advantage of this exchange is that these people will eventually soak into the weave of the Ottoman Empire, and dilute their blood by intermixing with them--and perhaps dilute some of their savagery as well, God willing."
"Besides," the Chamberlain went on, "your Majesty wishes to expand the power of the Empire into Italy, and what better way of doing that than removing the native population and replacing them with loyal Greeks? The Italians can be sold to the Seljuks...by doing so, we will gradually remove the threat of the Seljuks."
"That may work, indeed," the Emperor said. "Very well, so it shall be."
Strange how things may work out, Manuel I thought after the Grand Chamberlain had left. Using slaves to reconquer the Seljuks...it may work, it may not: he doubted that the desired effect would be acheived--but who knows, he thought. It could happen, over several generations...

 

[Supermanboy]

"Good morning, Grand Chamberlain," the Emperor said, as this high official entered the throne-room. The Chamberlain bowed low.
"Salutations, Basilus Manuel," the man said. "You called for me, Sire?"
"I have a problem, Grand Chamberlain," Manuel I Komnenos said. "Perhaps your wisdom can provide me with a solution..."
The Grand Chamberlain bowed low again. "You do me great honour, Majesty," he said. "Ask, and I shall assist you if I can."
"You will recall the destruction of the Genoese quarter of Constantinople by their enemies the Venetians, five years ago," the Emperor said.
"Indeed, Majesty, 'tis strong in the memory," the Grand Chamberlain said grimly, recalling the savage events of 1171.
"Consequently, as you will recall, we made an alliance with the Genoans, and they helped us sack Venice and enslave the entire population...but now, we have over one hundred thousand Venetians in Constantinople, who are a constant menace to good order in the city. The threat of rebellion by such a vast horde is a thought to be feared, indeed. What on Earth, literally, are we to do with these people? I am loathe to annihilate them, unless I am absolutely forced to do it. The vast majority of those people share no blame for the actions of their leaders, after all."
The Grand Chamberlain stroked his beard, deep in thought for a moment.
"It could be, your Majesty," he said at last, "that there is an easy solution to this problem--though somewhat distastful, it is less so than the obliteration of these people."
"Explain, Grand Vizier," the Emperor said.
"The recent Battle of Myriokephalan was a disaster for us," the Chamberlain said bluntly. "We could negotiate with the Seljuk Turks, and give the slaves to them as a gift..."
"Giving good Christians to Moslem warlords?" The Emperor said, aghast. "I am against that, most strongly."
"Hear me out, Basilus, I pray you," the Grand Chamberlain said. "These people will be converted to Islam, of course--either willingly or not--and it may seem at first sight that they will reinforce the Turks. However, the advantage of this exchange is that these people will eventually soak into the weave of the Ottoman Empire, and dilute their blood by intermixing with them--and perhaps dilute some of their savagery as well, God willing."
"Besides," the Chamberlain went on, "your Majesty wishes to expand the power of the Empire into Italy, and what better way of doing that than removing the native population and replacing them with loyal Greeks? The Italians can be sold to the Seljuks...by doing so, we will gradually remove the threat of the Seljuks."
"That may work, indeed," the Emperor said. "Very well, so it shall be."
Strange how things may work out, Manuel I thought after the Grand Chamberlain had left. Using slaves to reconquer the Seljuks...it may work, it may not: he doubted that the desired effect would be acheived--but who knows, he thought. It could happen, over several generations...

Very good first part! but.. We aren't serious about the conversion of the Venetians right!? Were shipping them off to the new world!

 

[nimbletoes]

My argument is that the Byzantine Emperor could have sold European slaves to the Turks as a form of genetic war against the Moslems...moreover, that was a sort of side-shoot of history which could have happened, very much for the reasons I stated.

However, I shall now send the Venetians to the New World, as you request...

 

[nimbletoes]

Pietro Tradonico, 13th Doge of Venice, stared moodily out at the surrounding sea-fog. The day matched his mood. A month before, slavic pirates from the Pagani Coast had attacked Venizia in force, sacked the city and driven the entire population to flight. Now a large fleet of ships made its way through the Pillars of Hercules, through this damnable fog. At least the grey walls hide us from Moslem pirates, the former Doge thought. That at least is something to be thankful for.

Next day, the sea-fog had lifted--but by now, a good wind had risen, filling the sails and pushing their flotilla west, out onto the open blue expanse of the sea. This, then, was the great Atlantic Ocean, Pietro mused. He was interested in this, despite his dour mood. I've never been this far west in my life, and I've certainly never sailed out over the Atlantic before. It's something I never thought I would do. I always thought I would end my life as Doge of Venice--not as some homeless wanderer, cast away with my people in whatever land lies on the far shore of this vast ocean. God grant us few storms and a fair, following wind, he prayed fervently.

The Doge's thoughts were interrupted by a voice at his elbow. He turned to see Paolo Neri, his captain, standing at his right side. The captain bowed low.
"You may be aware, noble leige," the captain said respectfully, "that today is Christmas Day. The priests have asked me to implore you to lead the service of thanksgiving for the birthday of the Lord Christ."
"I forgot the date," the Doge admitted. "I thank you for reminding me, Captain. Lead on, sir."
As they went across the deck, the Doge returned to his musing. So, this Christmas Day of the Year of Grace 846; out on the sea, far away from Venice, heading for who knew what landfall, in the far western reaches of the Atlantic. God grant we may be able to make a life for ourselves in the new land, wherever we end up...