Of Siam, Ships and South America (4)
This is slightly different from OTL, in which Argentina was already embroiled in a civil war at this point. The difference is that ITTL Spain is stronger and more of an active threat, which has caused the federalists and centralists to put aside their differences for a time — but only for a time.


On March 12, 1821, the ambassador from Spain arrived in Buenos Aires, bringing with him the Spanish government’s formal recognition of Argentine independence. A declaration of war would have done far less harm to the country.

In July of 1816, when representatives from the La Plata region had met at Tucumán to declare their independence from Spain, the biggest stumbling block had been the question of to what extent power should be centralized or federalized. Unlike Gran Colombia, Argentina had a central city which was large, relatively wealthy and home to an elite that was culturally distinct from the cabildos of the hinterlands.

It was with some reluctance that many of the representatives agreed to place so much power in the hands of a Supreme Director who would be elected not by the nation as a whole, but by Congress.[1] Many federalists hoped that soon the Spanish would be gone, and that a second convention would reduce the porteños’ share of power.

But less than a year later, the dream of freeing all South America from Spanish rule died with San Martín at Chacabuco, and the threat of reconquest became much more real. Under the circumstances, unitarians[2] like Bernardino Rivadavia and Supreme Director Juan Martín de Pueyrredón were able to argue that they needed to be able to call upon the full strength of the nation at once if it was to survive.

Even so, Estanislao López, Francisco Ramirez and José Artigas had repeatedly tried to persuade Pueyrredón and his successor, José Rondeau, to delegate power to the provinces and cities in areas not related to defense. Neither had listened — indeed, Rondeau had been steadily tightening his grip. And now, his excuse for doing so had vanished.

In May, López, Ramirez and Artigas led the list of men presenting Rondeau with a demand for a new constitutional convention. Rondeau refused…
Estebán Humperdinck, History of the Republic of Entre Rios



[1] The lower house of Congress was like the U.S. House of Representatives — apportioned according to population. This obviously benefits Buenos Aires. The upper house was like the U.S. Senate, except that Senators could only be voted in by other Senators. This benefits… whoever the first senators happened to be.
[2] People who wanted a strong central authority. Not the church.
 
Dear god, it's miraculous Argentina didn't fragment completely OTL...

And here they have a reactionary Bourbon next door. Prince Carlos may not have the infrastructure to invade, but he will likely do all he can to ensure Argentina breaks apart for his eventual attempt at reconquest. Not to mention he can use the chaos to showcase the 'inherent instability' of the republics to the people he rules.

I wonder if Pedro I's reign will be received differently with this South American situation.
 
A combination of NaNoWriMo and paying work (Hooray!) have delayed it somewhat.

Thanks for the prompting, though. The next update is close enough to done that I think I can finish it up tonight.
 
Of Siam, Ships and South America (5)
April 19, 1821
Admiralty House, London

Half the Cabinet was tied in knots. The coronation was in three months and they had to plan the entire event around the fact that the king refused to be in Westminster Abbey at the same time as the queen and didn’t want to spend any more time with his daughter than he could avoid. It was enough to make Robert Saunders-Dundas, First Viscount Melville and also First Lord of the Admiralty, glad he had the comparatively simple job of keeping the Royal Navy afloat.

Or as much of it as he could. The Government kept wanting to reduce it to 66 ships, when Melville was sure the Empire needed at least a hundred to keep all corners of it defended and the sea lanes open between them.[1]

And now Lord Castlereagh was in his office. Since that unfortunate business with the French agents last year, Castlereagh had become far more vigilant against foreign spies and radical subversives. Melville hoped this wasn’t going to be about another inquiry into the loyalties of British tars. I can assure you that our stalwart sailors remain united in their steadfast commitment to rum and buggery… no, he probably couldn’t get away with saying that, but dear God, it was tempting.

But as it turned out, that wasn’t why the foreign minister had come. “Are you familiar with the Turenne?” said Castlereagh.

Ah. This was going to be one of those conversations. Yes, Melville was familiar with the Turenne — it had been in service nearly a year, after all. Now the shipyards of Toulon and Antwerp (it would be a bad day when Melville succumbed to calling it Anvers) were building several new steam-frigates. Also, the French government had apparently shared the blueprints with its Italian allies, who were building similar vessels in Genoa and Naples. The city of Venice was turning its old Arsenal into a modern shipyard — a civilian shipyard, for now.

Which raised the question of how soon and to what extent the Royal Navy should turn to steam. A wrong choice here would be catastrophic. If ever another nation, or alliance of nations, were to build a navy superior to Britain’s, the ocean would cease to serve “the office of a wall, or as a moat defensive to a house”[2] and instead become a road to their doorstep.

Melville had nothing against steam power in a tug, or a dispatch boat if it could be made fast enough — it would certainly be an advantage in the doldrums — or even a transport. But every time he tried to imagine a steamship in battle, the first image that appeared in his mind was that of a half-dozen cannonballs turning the paddle into driftwood. Sails and rigging were not so easily destroyed.

“I have in fact given some thought to the Turenne and her sisters to come,” said Melville. “It seems to me that if you compare her to a pure sailing vessel she has both advantages and disadvantages.

“Advantages: she can sail — or rather, she can go — on a windless day; she can furl her sails and manoeuvre quite independent of the wind, making her a deal less predictable in melée; she can turn in place by rotating her wheels in opposite directions.

“Disadvantages: the bulk of her engine and wheels limits the size of her broadside; and all her advantages disappear at once if she runs out of coal, if her engine breaks down as they often do… or if someone puts a cannonball or two through the engine or the wheels. I can’t believe they’re that well-armoured.

“I imagine this is even more true of the steam-shallops the Danes are building. As for this iron-plated monster-machine Fulton is building in New York[3], I tell you frankly I haven’t the least notion of how to destroy it, assuming it doesn’t sink of its own accord. But I understand it will not be seaworthy, therefore not a true threat.” There. That covered all the bases as far as steam warships went.

“There is another facet to them you may not have considered,” said Castlereagh. “Building new warships has allowed the French to sell some of their older ones. They have sold several to Brazil… and several more to Egypt.”

“To the governor of Egypt? Not to the Sultan?”

“Indeed. I trust you see the implications.”

“Turkish control of Egypt is already rather threadbare,” said Melville. “This would undermine it further.”

“It’s Talleyrand,” said Castlereagh, his eyes suddenly blazing. “He’s trying to do peacefully what Old Boney failed to do by force — turn Egypt into a French client state. I will swear it.”

“It sounds like him,” said Melville, not wanting to argue with Castlereagh right at the moment. “Should we do the same?”

“No. We cannot undermine the Sublime Porte any further lest it collapse and let the Russians into Constantinople. At the same time, to sell ships to the Sublime Porte would drive the tsar even further away.”

“To say nothing of how the opposition would react if the Government were to help Mahometans subjugate Christians,” said Melville. “If I were to undertake the sale of some older vessels, have you any buyers in mind?”

“Austria and the Argentines.”

This made a certain amount of sense. The last Melville had heard, the government in Buenos Aires was on the brink of civil war — if it hadn’t already broken out by now — their government was wavering between the United States and the British Empire, and he had heard that the rivers of that country were navigable for some distance upstream.

As for Austria, Melville had no idea what sort of shipyards existed on the portion of the Adriatic coast still in Austrian possession. He was sure, however, that if there were any, once the Arsenal was rebuilt it would put them all out of business as far as commercial contracts went. That being the case, it would be cheaper for Vienna to buy a fleet than to build one.

He couldn’t help feeling concerned as he looked at Castlereagh. The foreign secretary seemed alert and aware, but there was a flutter to his eyelids that Melville had only ever seen in men who had gotten far too little sleep.

Then again, any man who had to match wits with Talleyrand and Henry Brougham on a regular basis would be lucky to get any sleep at all.

[1] IOTL they wanted it reduced even further. ITTL they’re worried enough about France, Italy and the U.S. to want to keep a larger fleet around.
[2] From Richard II.
[3] The USS Speaker, the first of five planned iron-plated demologoi. Close to being finished.
 
Hmm, which side in the Argentine war would the British be selling to? Or do neither have any particular attachment to their foreign policies?

The Great Lakes are being conceded as an American pond then?

Is Mohamed Ali Pasha's career largely as OTL so far?

And that coronation really isn't going to turn out well is it?

Anyway, great to see this back, and good update!
 
Hmm, which side in the Argentine war would the British be selling to? Or do neither have any particular attachment to their foreign policies?

They'll be selling to Rondeau. There's a population of British merchants in Buenos Aires already.

The Great Lakes are being conceded as an American pond then?

Pretty much, at least by the RN. As long as they dominate the North Atlantic, they can ship armies across at will to defend Canada. And of course Canada may build its own ships.

Is Mohamed Ali Pasha's career largely as OTL so far?

Yes.

And that coronation really isn't going to turn out well is it?

That will be the subject of the next update.
 

Stolengood

Banned
He couldn’t help feeling concerned as he looked at Castlereagh. The foreign secretary seemed alert and aware, but there was a flutter to his eyelids that Melville had only ever seen in men who had gotten far too little sleep.

Then again, any man who had to match wits with Talleyrand and Henry Brougham on a regular basis would be lucky to get any sleep at all.
"...don't you think he looks tired?" :D
 
As an aside, what's the opinion of Sweden and Prussia to Denmark trying to construct a modern navy?

And the RN may be in for a rude surprise if they refuse steam power until it gets a practical demonstration.

That will be the subject of the next update.

Looking forward to it!
 
Just to double check: Is Carlos, this Carlos?

Also, the "lack" of roads, shouldn't be too much of a hindrance should he ever want to conduct operations into Argentina, or the Ecuadorian part of Colombia. After all, one of Andres de Santa Cruz' lieutenants, invaded northern Argentina from that direction in the 1830's; and Viceroy Abascal, retook the Audiencia of Quito in its entirety in the 1810s.

And speaking of Santa Cruz, any chance he turns up soon?
 
As an aside, what's the opinion of Sweden and Prussia to Denmark trying to construct a modern navy?

And the RN may be in for a rude surprise if they refuse steam power until it gets a practical demonstration.



Looking forward to it!

In another year or so, Prussia and Sweden will start building experimental steamships of their own. The Royal Navy is being a little conservative as far as warship designs go, but Britain has the industry and finance to play catch-up if necessary.

Just to double check: Is Carlos, this Carlos?

Also, the "lack" of roads, shouldn't be too much of a hindrance should he ever want to conduct operations into Argentina, or the Ecuadorian part of Colombia. After all, one of Andres de Santa Cruz' lieutenants, invaded northern Argentina from that direction in the 1830's; and Viceroy Abascal, retook the Audiencia of Quito in its entirety in the 1810s.

And speaking of Santa Cruz, any chance he turns up soon?

Yep, that's him. And as far as Santa Cruz and invasion routes into Colombia go… well, I don't want to give anything away right at the moment.

EDIT: Somewhere around Thanksgiving this TL passed the 150,000-view mark. Thank you, everybody.
 
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Coronation (1)
This is a ripping good yarn!


Keep it up my good sir!


fasquardon

Thank you. Here is the next update.


“Why do we love them? For there is no doubt that we do. My very earliest memory is of overhearing my mother and her friends speaking with great excitement of someone named ‘Napoleon’ and someone else named ‘Adelaide-Louise.’ I wondered who these people were, and when we had met them…
“Yes, we love them. We rejoice at their triumphs and weep at their tragedies, and though these emotions are cultivated like grapevines by the authorities, yet there is something authentic at the core that, like a grapeseed, we do not yet know how to create by artifice.
“But why is it so? Because it is in caring for them together that we find something in common with those around us. In sharing these emotions we rise above the small concerns and mutual distrust that characterizes our dealings with those outside our immediate circle of acquaintance. We become a part of something larger than ourselves…
“The examples of the United States and other modern republics prove that a royal family is not absolutely necessary, and the great events of our grandfathers’ time prove that such a family may make itself loathsome and thereby bring about its own destruction…
“One day we will learn to love and care directly for our people and our future. One day we will learn to become a part of something larger, and live that way.”

-Guillaume George Elmar, On Monarchs And Monarchies


July 19, 1821
9:30 a.m.
Westminster Abbey

“The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep,” said Queen Caroline, “so help me God.”

Lady Anne Hamilton, Lady Charlotte Lindsay and Margaret Brougham had done the traditional strewing of flowers in Caroline’s path. Now, Charlotte and Margaret removed her crimson robe so that Anne could drape the anointing robe over her clothes. (Normally, the queen consort would have been anointed and crowned just after the monarch, not four hours earlier. But George IV, who understood pageantry if nothing else, wanted his own crowning to be the climax of the day’s ceremonies.)

Very few people saw the exact moment of coronation — it was blocked by a canopy, the Archbishop of Canterbury and, from where Charlotte Augusta was standing, the tall frame of Lady Anne Hamilton. But when Caroline emerged wearing the crown that had once sat on the head of her mother-in-law, “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!” echoed through the great space.

Charlotte Augusta wondered if her mother were finding this satisfying. She had gone to so much effort to ensure that she would have some sort of coronation, some official recognition of her status as Queen Consort of the United Kingdom. This ceremony wasn’t much by royal standards — no orchestra, no choral arrangements. Father had deliberately stinted it as much as he could get away with. But it was a coronation. The Princess of Wales wondered if her mother was thinking… that was it?

When Queen stepped out the door of the cathedral and heard the shouts of the multitudes as she approached the carriage, her daughter saw her face again and was sure she had received what she had come for. Yes. This was it.

Many of the Radicals in the galleries had planned to leave at this point, but Charlotte Augusta had said: If you love me, then for this one day honor my mother AND my father. For this one day, we can all do so much. For this one day, God willing, we can put aside what divides us and all be Britons together.

* * *
About 6 p.m.
Westminster Hall

Sitting down to the most spectacular dinner she had ever seen even as a member of the royal family, Charlotte Augusta quietly decided the Book of Proverbs was right: “Better a dinner of herbs with love…” But if you had to settle for the stalled ox and hatred therewith, at least you had something to distract you.

George’s own coronation, unlike Caroline’s, had been of an extravagance previously unimagined in this age. It was said that he had tried to outdo the coronation of Napoleon, and Charlotte could believe it. There was a fine line between grandeur and absurdity, and the king had passed over that line without a glance backwards. When Charlotte had seen the nine-yard train of gold-starred, ermine-trimmed crimson velvet trailing from her father’s shoulders, being held up by eight young noblemen and the Master of the Robes, the only thing she had been able to think was I must not laugh, I must not laugh.

At least the men hoisting the train into the air had been in the shade. His Majesty, wanting to make sure everyone leaning out the second-floor windows got a good look at him as he marched in the procession, had ordered the canopy-bearers to march behind him. He had thus inflicted on himself the blazing heat of a July afternoon in clothing that might have been quite comfortable in January. He had several times been on the verge of heatstroke, and had needed to be revived with smelling salts.

Then there was the coronation crown her father had ordered made — a most spectacular thing, glittering with countless diamonds. It looked especially impressive if you didn’t happen to know the diamonds had been rented from Rundell and Bridge.

Anyway, now it was time for dinner. Carême had set out to outdo himself, and he had succeeded. There were no roast peacocks on the table, no dishes of nightingales’ tongues… nothing more exotic than lobster, crayfish or turtle soup. Carême had taken the meats, fishes, poultry and vegetables that everyone knew, and with them he had worked wonders. Charlotte was glad she had had nothing to eat since yesterday. She liked good food as much as either one of her parents, but was trying not to become as fat as either one of them. Tonight, for once, she could let herself go.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the faces of the guests’ families up in the galleries, watching hungrily as their loved ones ate. She was very glad that her closest friends (to say nothing of the Cub and little Amelia) were all gathered at the Hamilton residence, having dinner with the Queen. One of the peers wrapped a chicken leg in a napkin, stood up and threw it to his wife in the gallery. Charlotte raised a glass to him before returning her attention to the cold lamb in aspic and the potatoes with lobster sauce.

She tried, for the seventh or eighth time since dinner had begun, to catch her father’s eye. Just a glance would have been enough. Just a little acknowledgement. She might disagree with every single one of his policies, he might come up with new ways every day to make her ashamed to be his daughter, but… it was unseemly for there to be no peace at all between them.

But he never so much as glanced in her direction. Not once.

The Leo patted her on the wrist. She looked into his brown eyes, and realized that he understood what she had been trying to do.

“No one can say you didn’t try,” he said.

“I was hoping for more than to absolve myself of guilt,” she replied.

* * *

About 8 p.m.
The Hamilton residence

“How was the feast, Charlotte?” said Lady Charlotte Lindsay.

“Splendid, Charlotte,” said Charlotte Augusta, “although I left when… certain distinguished guests began to get unpleasantly drunk.” Starting with Father. “I trust you dined well?”

“Tolerably… but you should know that Caroline had no appetite. Her stomach pained her.” She shook her head. “Today of all days.”

“It’s getting worse.” Charlotte reached down, hoisted the Cub into the air, and wondered how long she would be able to keep doing that. The boy weighed nearly three stone.

In a side room, her mother was speaking urgently with Baron Stockmar in German. The only words Charlotte recognized were “laudanum” and “apoteker,” which was close enough to “apothecary” for her to get the idea. She had been eating a thick, pinkish paste out of a tin.

She turned to notice her daughter and son-in-law standing in the doorway.

“There you are,” she said. “Just having a bit of stomach trouble. Growing old is better than dying young, but it’s no great joy.”

“You seem to be eating this more and more often, mother,” said Charlotte Augusta, glancing at the paste. “What is it?”

“Magnesia and laudanum — and not nearly enough of the latter, I might add.” She put the lid back on and put the tin away, either out of embarrassment or to keep it from tempting young Leo to try and taste it. Then Caroline noticed the expression on her daughter’s face.

“Don’t look so shocked, girl,” she said. “If my dear husband can drink laudanum right out of the bottle, I think I can handle this. In fact…” She stood up. Charlotte noticed for the first time that her mother had lost a good deal of her stoutness over the past few months. “I believe I can manage some soup.”

As soon as Caroline was headed for the kitchen, Leopold caught Stockmar by the sleeve.

“What was that she was saying to you about watching an apothecary?” he whispered.

“Her Majesty believes that her apothecary is giving her short weight where the laudanum is concerned,” said the baron in a low voice. “I suspect otherwise. It is in the nature of all opiates that taken often, their power over the senses begins to wane, and she has been taking this compound for some time.”
 
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