Chapter 42

Dismissing his advisors, William IV regarded Hesbet Feng's anxious demeanor and Tolbek's stoic composure. "My foreign minister," the King began, his gaze piercing, "your apprehension is evident. Tell me your concerns. I observe, you see, the telltale signs: your left hand rigidly extended, while the fingers of your right hand curl inwards, your nails digging into your palm." Feng offered a wry, self-deprecating smile at the knowing looks of the others. "Your Majesty's perception remains as sharp as ever." He then proceeded to detail his anxieties. William IV feigned contemplation. "So," he declared, "your unease stems from the anticipated intransigence of Napoleon III or Lord Palmerston?" "Precisely, Your Majesty," Feng replied, his tone laced with frustration. "Neither is a pushover; both are formidable and perilous adversaries." "Prime Minister," William IV addressed Tolbek, "do you share this assessment of their intractability?" "Undeniably," Tolbek confirmed, his gaze resting on Feng, a subtle acknowledgment of their shared burden.

The King's quiet observation of Tolbek's composed acceptance of the situation spoke volumes. Tolbek felt the weight of his responsibility, the burden of serving a monarch who possessed a perceptive and penetrating mind, yet he harbored no disloyalty, his steadfast Dutch integrity remaining unshaken. This unwavering loyalty, a hallmark of his chivalric spirit, was a source of deep pride. Feng, with a hint of empathy, studied his Prime Minister. He finally understood. Tolbek's ascension to the premiership wasn't secured by mere eloquence; nor did his influence rest solely on his rhetorical prowess. The man was a tireless advocate for his nation's interests, a warrior in diplomatic battles. Yet, even this stalwart champion found himself constrained by the quiet, perceptive power of his sovereign, King William IV – a power that resided not in boisterous pronouncements, but in acute observation and shrewd understanding.Prime Minister Tobelk's awareness of the situation was long overdue; the revelation struck him like a bitter pill. His gaze, heavy with resentment and a cruel satisfaction, fixed on the speaker. He spat out, "Let's dispense with pleasantries. Greece, nestled in the eastern Mediterranean, faces a diminished Ottoman Turkey – a colossus reduced to a shadow of its former self, a sickly giant among world powers. Its once-formidable navy is now largely under the thumb of Britain and France, its very arsenals dependent on European supplies, its military doctrine shaped by European instructors.

This enfeebled state, this frightened bird, lacked the power to resist. Its cession from the Ottoman Empire, sanctioned by Britain, France, and Russia, was a foregone conclusion." The agreement, Tobelk continued, was a calculated move by the three powers to curtail Ottoman influence in the eastern Mediterranean. Their choice of King Otto, the Bavarian prince and Austrian ally, was a deliberate act of strategic maneuvering. William IV let out a long, mournful sigh. The Ottoman Empire! Once a dominant force, a titan straddling Europe and Asia for over five centuries, it now resembled a dying insect, its vast holdings vulnerable to dismemberment. Each territorial concession, each agonizing amputation, was merely another stage in its protracted demise. The image of Churchill's words flooded his mind: Europe eagerly awaited the Ottoman Empire's collapse, yet this tenacious, moribund entity clung desperately to its crumbling domains, refusing to relinquish its grasp on power.The Dutch ambassador had previously engaged in extensive negotiations with Crown Prince Mohammed of the Ottoman Empire, securing assurances of Dutch interests and promising technological advancements, specifically in weaponry. The Netherlands, saturated with obsolete firearms following the introduction of the state-of-the-art Mauser rifles, shrewdly proposed a lucrative arms disposal arrangement.

The Ottoman Empire served as a convenient conduit to offload surplus weaponry, generating substantial revenue for reinvestment in Dutch military modernization. This was a long-term strategic play; an investment in future alliances. The Ottomans, seeking support for William III, found the Dutch proposition compelling. Conversely, Napoleon III, despite his considerable ambition, demonstrated a consistent pattern of diplomatic miscalculation. His strategic acumen faltered repeatedly, yielding only success in the Sardinian-Austrian conflict. His passive observation of the Second Schleswig War and the Austro-Prussian War proved disastrous, culminating in a stark realization: Prussia's military strength had nearly equaled that of France. His inaction had allowed a potent adversary to rise.The initial assessment predicted mutual devastation for French fisheries, a prophecy grimly fulfilled. The swift Prussian advance in 1870 culminated in William I's decisive conquest of Paris. A calculated strategy unfolded: simultaneous pressure on Württemberg, Saxony, and Hanover, coupled with diplomatic overtures to secure international backing for William III's claim to the Greek throne—a subtle maneuver subtly leveraging existing alliances. A pointed reminder followed: "Your Majesty, overlook not your familial ties—Grand Duke Karl Alexander of Saxony, your uncle; the Duchy of Württemberg, your mother Queen Sophie's ancestral domain." The observation continued, "King Karl XV of Sweden, our cousin. My considerations aim at securing more overt support, a more forceful endorsement.". . . . . .In the heart of the White House, a pall of gloom settled over President Lincoln, Vice President Hamlin, and their cabinet—Secretary Seward, Secretary Stanton, Secretary Chase, and Postmaster General Blair.

A devastating piece of intelligence had arrived, plunging the nation into deeper despair: the Kingdom of the Netherlands had preempted the United States, seizing the long-coveted Hawaiian Islands. The news struck a crushing blow. The audacious Dutch maneuver came at a time of already immense national strain, the Civil War raging across the land. This unexpected territorial grab, the speaker lamented, represented a calamitous strategic setback, undermining Northern morale and potentially igniting a dangerous domino effect in Europe. The Netherlands had, in effect, snatched victory from the grasp of the United States. Hamlin, Lincoln's 1858 running mate, initially expressed his displeasure directly to Seward, the Secretary of State. The swift and decisive action by the Dutch Pacific Fleet on February 16th, 1862, had resulted in the complete annexation of Hawaii within mere hours. A news blackout, swiftly imposed, concealed the Dutch conquest until an American merchant vessel, returning from the Pacific, stumbled upon the truth and, through tenacious efforts, uncovered the details of the Netherlands' clandestine operation. The Hawaiian monarch, it transpired, had been coerced into accepting Dutch rule. The Dutch fleet, utilizing its high-speed warships, had transmitted the news to the West Coast with astonishing celerity, reaching Lincoln via telegram that very morning. The weight of this geopolitical defeat pressed heavily upon the nation's leadership.William Henry Seward felt profoundly aggrieved. He believed his assertive foreign policy, deemed necessary by President Lincoln to project American strength on the world stage, was unfairly undermined. Seward's pursuit of Hawaiian influence, in particular, ignited significant friction with Great Britain and France. The audacious overture from the Netherlands, a minor European power, further exacerbated his frustration.

Seward, the architect of American expansionism within the White House, envisioned a vast Pacific commercial empire dominating Asian and Pacific markets. He viewed the Civil War as a temporary setback, a crucible from which a rejuvenated nation would emerge, poised for global dominance. His impassioned plea to Lincoln – "Mr. President, the loss of Hawaii is unacceptable; it jeopardizes our Pacific ambitions and the creation of an Asian-Pacific trade behemoth" – underscored his conviction that American expansion should proceed, albeit with a refined strategy. He advocated for prioritizing commercial over territorial expansion, emphasizing diplomacy and trade as the preferred instruments of influence, arguing that naval power alone was insufficient for securing foreign markets. Lincoln, though irritated by Seward's forceful advocacy, refrained from openly rebuking him, as Vice President Hamlin might have done. The gravity of the situation was palpable. Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase and Postmaster General Montgomery Blair exchanged a significant glance. Chase remarked gravely, "Mr. President, the Dutch interest in Hawaii transcends a simple territorial grab; it represents a critical threat to American interests demanding profound consideration."Bewilderment hung heavy in the air. Seward, consumed by a profound sense of unease and displacement, found himself adrift. His gaze locked onto Salmon Portland, whose countenance remained unperturbed. A subtle, almost condescending smile played on Portland's lips as he directed it toward Hannibal Hamlin, a gesture radiating quiet benevolence. Hamlin's approving nod served as tacit confirmation. Portland then articulated, with measured gravity, "The entire continent held its breath, observing our internal struggle. The Confederacy's machinations were manifold and treacherous; their schemes…" "Our gauge of international sentiment, undertaken last November 8th, was, as you, Mr. Secretary, well know, the forceful seizure of the British vessel, the 'Trent,' by a US warship. Two Confederate emissaries bound for Britain were subsequently detained…" Portland's oratory possessed an undeniable power; his words resonated deeply, captivating even Lincoln's undivided attention.