In Berlin's Chancellery, a clandestine meeting unfolded between Dutch envoy Nicholas Pearson and Otto von Bismarck. The subject: Prussia's impending military action against Denmark. Their discussion culminated in a hastily arranged, provisional accord, leaving Pearson swiftly departing Bismarck's office. Alone at nine PM, a ravenous Bismarck found himself grappling not with hunger, but with bewilderment. The Netherlands' sudden, overt offer of collaboration on this deeply secretive plan – known only to him, Kaiser Wilhelm I, and the Prussian chief of staff – was profoundly unsettling. The audacity shocked him. How had the Dutch learned of Prussia's intentions? The answer, he grimly suspected, lay with Crown Prince Frederick. Since his 1858 marriage to Princess Victoria, the Crown Prince had undergone a transformation. He had become a staunch advocate for the liberal political doctrines his wife espoused, yearning to mold Prussia into a constitutional monarchy mirroring Great Britain. Bismarck seethed, viewing the Crown Prince as intellectually captivated, even manipulated, by his wife's influence. He scoffed at the Crown Prince's naive idealism, oblivious to the stark realities confronting Prussia. Unlike the insular United Kingdom, protected by its dominant navy, Prussia faced formidable geopolitical pressures. Austria and Russia, its ostensibly powerful allies, remained far from constitutional models. France, newly reconstituted as the Second Empire, had only recently, and tentatively, embraced a constitutional framework under Napoleon III. The Crown Prince's obliviousness to this volatile landscape filled Bismarck with a chilling premonition.Prussia's actions risked creating a chasm between Russia and the Austro-Prussian alliance, fostering deep distrust among allies. This potential schism was not to be underestimated. Princess Victoria's political leanings and British heritage consequently led to her alienation from both the Hohenzollern dynasty and the Berlin court. This isolation further exacerbated Bismarck's existing tensions with Victoria, undermining his long-term strategy of cultivating closer ties with Russia via Austria. Bismarck's reflections revealed a calculating mind. He saw the Netherlands' recent bold move—a direct consequence of King William IV's ascension—as a fortuitous opportunity. The new monarch's ambition, Bismarck surmised, could be skillfully manipulated to Prussia's advantage. This nascent ambition required careful assessment to maximize Prussian gains. A recent request from a junior diplomat for Prussian concessions to secure Dutch support against Denmark initially caused Bismarck some unease. Yet, weighing the substantial moral and territorial benefits accruing to Prussia, he readily dismissed his reservations. He viewed the temporary cession of territory to the Netherlands as a strategic gamble, a calculated risk echoing Britain's historical approach. This was but a temporary setback; Prussia would inevitably reclaim far more in the future. The temporary relinquishment was a shrewd investment.
Bismarck, eyes scanning the provisional treaty, dispatched a servant with his barely touched meal, racing back to the Berlin Palace. Emperor William I and the Prussian Chief of Staff awaited his crucial report with bated breath. Simultaneously, in Amsterdam's Huis ten Bosch Palace, King William III received a clandestine update on the momentous agreement forged in Berlin between Bismarck and his emissary. The Dutch diplomatic corps, having meticulously orchestrated a delicate balance of power with the European giants, had successfully positioned the Netherlands for maximum advantage. From London to Madrid, from Paris to Vienna, a week of intensive diplomatic maneuvering had yielded remarkable results, forging upgraded relationships across the continent. William III, upon receiving the dispatch from his envoy, Haysbert Feng, felt a surge of relief. His intricate strategy had not been in vain. The replacement of Berlin's covert support, a gamble fraught with uncertainty, had finally yielded fruit. Bismarck's audacious ambition was confirmed; the seemingly opportunistic Danish gambit was, in fact, a meticulously planned maneuver, a carefully orchestrated "inaugural performance" conceived perhaps from the very moment William I appointed him Chancellor.
William I and Bismarck, chafing under Prussian constraints within the Pod Plain, cast their gaze across the European landscape, anticipating—and actively preparing for—a future confrontation with Great Britain. This strategic foresight fueled their audacious gamble concerning the Netherlands. Their calculated provocation proved successful, precisely because it was so cunningly designed. The core of their strategy hinged on the belief that a successful Danish gambit would not only inflate Prussian national pride but also ignite Dutch ire, provoking a forceful reaction. This, in turn, would lure Great Britain into a carefully laid trap—a carefully orchestrated European maelstrom—allowing the Netherlands to exploit the ensuing chaos. The Netherlands, situated as a pivotal European power, actively sought to disrupt the prevailing peace, viewing it as inimical to its ambitions. William I aimed to foment instability, to muddy the waters, and seize opportunities for aggrandizement amidst the ensuing turmoil....His Royal Highness entered the chamber. The Dutch Privy Council, a body subservient to the cabinet and effectively William IV's administrative arm, convened within the opulent confines of the royal palace. Its considerable expense stemmed primarily from the salaries of its members, individuals handpicked by the monarch himself. Currently, this select group comprised only three: Prime Minister Tolbeck, Minister of the Interior Jonrell, Minister of Foreign Affairs Heisbet Fung, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Jane von Capellow. Upon the King's arrival, the quartet sprang to their feet, offering a respectful salute. William IV, with a regal gesture, indicated they should resume their seats, then composedly settled into his own chair. After brief, deferential pleasantries, he dispensed with formalities. Addressing Jonrell directly, he commanded, "Report on the recent developments concerning immigration." Jonrell was taken aback. He had anticipated the meeting's focus to be the crucial diplomatic negotiations with Prussia, a matter of paramount importance to the Dutch state. The King's abrupt shift in agenda hinted at a pressing, unforeseen urgency.
Despite his initial apprehension, the speaker was well-prepared and delivered his presentation flawlessly. The year has been remarkably successful, with a substantial influx of emigrants bound for the East Indies. Following a week of vigorous publicity campaigns across major newspapers – the *Rotterdam Zeitung*, *Echo*, and *Dutch Daily* – applications have surged to 20,000. Continued media attention will undoubtedly attract even more participants; the sheer expanse of available land is a powerful incentive. Furthermore, Your Majesty's generous provision of funds, courtesy of the Ministry of Finance, ensures a compelling offer: each newcomer will receive a substantial 2,000 guilders (80 pounds) annually – twice the Netherlands' per capita GDP – a truly transformative support package. This represents an immense financial commitment, equivalent to double our nation's annual income. Securing this capital will facilitate land acquisition and the establishment of thriving communities. Despite the brevity of our campaign, the response has been extraordinarily positive. King William IV exchanged a wry smile with the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Jane von Kappel, as Jonrell's announcement of the Ministry of Finance's substantial expenditure elicited a palpable expression of concern. As the nation's chief financial officer, the Chancellor is acutely aware of the budgetary pressures faced by all government departments. William IV, naturally, understands the fiscal complexities involved. Such an enormous outlay represents a significant burden. Twenty thousand individuals alone necessitate an expenditure of £160,000. Considering that last year's Dutch GDP totaled £160 million, and government revenue approximately £40 million, this represents a considerable allocation of resources. The nation's financial needs are constantly expanding, with demands from various sectors seemingly endless. The military budget alone, recently approved by Parliament and signed into law by William IV, has reached a staggering £500,000 – and this is merely January. The prospect of eleven more months of similar demands is daunting.However, I believe that Chancellor of the Exchequer Jane von Capello also saw the business opportunities.
East India, a treasure trove of spices and vast, primeval forests, held the key to Britain's naval dominance. Northern Europe, specifically Sweden, previously the sole provider of shipbuilding timber for all of Europe, now found its position strengthened by its burgeoning relationship with the British Empire. This dependence, however, was unacceptable; self-reliance was paramount. A strategic population shift eastward to East India promised not just territorial expansion, but a transformative leap in national power. This eastward movement, William IV boldly proclaimed, would pave the way for a triumphant return to the forefront of European power, to face our rivals head-on. The news reverberated through the halls of the Berlin Royal Palace, startling even the seasoned William I. His gaze darted between Mo Qi and Bismarck, the bearer of this startling intelligence. Bismarck, with a dismissive shrug, remarked on the unexpected resurgence of the Netherlands, a nation long dormant, under its ambitious new King William IV. William I's imposing presence, accentuated by his flowing beard, betrayed his astonishment. "The Faroe Islands? A brazen demand," he declared, his voice rumbling, "but will the Danes accede to such a bold overture?" Prussia was equally stunned. The Netherlands, historically fearful of British aggression, now dared to covet the desolate, frigid Faroe Islands, a sparsely populated archipelago far from its shores. Could Denmark possibly consent? Bismarck, initially echoing this skepticism, found his doubts surprisingly eroded. A recent conversation with a young Dutch diplomat—a Pearson—had inexplicably altered his perspective. He now perceived the Netherlands' success as plausible, a shift in judgment that deeply unsettled him. He had underestimated Pearson's persuasive power, acknowledging the subtle, yet potent influence this diplomat wielded. Bismarck concluded that Pearson, a rising star in Dutch diplomacy, represented a significant force to be reckoned with, a player potentially capable of swaying the diplomatic landscape of Prussia and Britain alike.
Bismarck, privately recalling Pearson, addressed the monarch with weighty import: "Your Majesty, I posit that the Netherlands currently serves as a vital, if clandestine, partner. Consider: our shared dominion extends to Westphalia, the Rhine, and Hanover – yet conspicuously excludes Prussia itself. Given our contiguous borders, friction is minimal; their maritime ambitions lie at odds with our present entrapment in the Baltic, our lack of Atlantic access a glaring vulnerability. A strategic alliance with the Netherlands, I believe, holds the key to our future. Through their Atlantic ports, we may secure the most potent external assistance imaginable." William I and Prussia reacted initially with stunned disbelief, subsequently succumbing to profound dismay.