Well what can I say, I have no idea how I got into this mess, but a mess it is, and I'm in the middle of it. EU was just released here in the US, but after searching for a copy I was frustrated, only soothed by the promise that my local store would have the game tomorrow. So I went to sleep with thoughts of world conquest on my mind, and that's where the trouble began. I woke up, not on Staten Island, but in a damp, draughty, and foul smelling room dressed in clothes more uncomfortable than I care to describe. Feeling the itching sensation of wearing tights on my legs made me think that this was just a dream. When a servant arrived, and referred to me as Your Grace, I knew it was a dream, so I didn't pay much attention to him, even after he explained that I was required in His Majesty's prescence. Hell, I should have known, dreams aren't usualy this vivid, and they certainly didn't smell as bad as this one. But, I decided to sit back and enjoy it. Having spent two years doing A level English, I learnt enough Shakespeare to be able to understand the prosaic babble being spoken to me, and I decided that as it was a dream, I would speak in the same language. That proved a little difficult, as I banged my head on my bedroom doorway, and had to explain what "bollox" meant to my attendant.

 

Arriving at Hampton Court, I was struck by two things; how huge the place looks compared to the other buildings, and how now that we were on the outskirts of London, I could release the pressure grip on my nose, and be able to sniff the air without vomiting. By now, I had put together an account of who I was supposed to be; His Grace Sean, Earl Of Essex, High Councillor to the Court of His Most Catholic Majesty Henry VII, otherwise known as Henry Tudor. The year was 1492, and it's been seven years since Henry picked the crown out of a mulberry bush at Bosworth Field, it's previous owner no longer needing it, as he was vastly more concerned with how his head ended up so far away from his body. So now, here I was about to go face to face with the man from the very end of the book; "1066 and All That." As this was just a dream, I decided to dispense with the usual protocol, of bowing in half, and with a simple nod, walked up to Henry and asked what he wanted.

 

After a sharp intake of breath, the man proceeded to speak in a drone which is tough to describe to a transatlantic audience. If Ben Stearn had a cleft pallet and spoke with a Welsh accent, you'd come close to the sound that I was assailed with. The low monotonous drawl was overpowering, and when I said "Speak up you Welsh git," I arrived at the problem now before me; this is not a dream. Dreams, certainly don't leave bruises, and you don't wake up in a cell in the Tower of London wearing horse-hair tights and these stupid bloody pantaloons, even in the worst of nightmares. After several days of bread and mouldy water, I came to the conclusion that all this was all strangely real. I didn't know how this happened, but when the Tower guard with a boil the size of Swindon came to tell me that the King again requested my prescence I decided that I had better improve my attitude and try to fit in.

 

After bowing, with an exagerrated flourish I strode up to His Majesty, apologizing for my previous behaviour. Henry was quite gracious, apparantly, I took a blow from a pike staff to the head at Bosworth, and he excused my behaviour, only because of my previous service to the Lancastrian cause. Comprehending only pieces of what Henry said, I nevertheless understood the task we had ahead of us. To turn around the problems of the last century and restore the Kings of England, Wales and France to their previous glory. I was escorted back to Surrey manor with the latest yearly reports, documents from our ambassadors to the courts of Europe, and statements of arms from our military commanders. That's where we get to the problem at hand. Somehow, I am living at the end of the 15th century and am an advisor to the King. Apart from the immediate problems of surviving in this strange, and sanitationarily challenged world (pardon the Bushism) without being spotted as an outsider, I have to find out what happened and how to get back to the real world. Moreover, whatever I do, I can't help but consider that it will change history, and the future will be unrecognisable should I ever get there.

 

After a nourishing meal of rye bread and mashed parsnips, I looked over the documents Henry gave me, and thought of the tasks at hand. Less than two centuries ago, the Angevin Empire was the most powerful on earth. England was a rich and fertile kingdom, and the Kings who were crowned at Westminster possessed lands in France, larger than that of the French Kings themselves. The feudal system of adminsitration had been refined since 1066, and the lands were governed efficiently, producing enough money to attempt to expand the monarch's possessions in France. Despite Agincourt, Poitiers and Crecy, the hundred years war with France was a disaster. Add to that a plague that wiped out half the population, and a series of kings whose abilities were nothing short of a commercial for expanding the gene pool, and you get to where we are now. The final insult to the land of The Black Prince and Chaucer was a brutal civil war. The battles of the Wars of The Roses, may have had fewer participants, than a Friday night home match for Scunthorpe United, but the scars of the last 30 years are a bankrupt kingdom, a pitifully small army, and a technologicaly backward society barely capable of placing traders in the markets of Flanders.

 

Looking at the map of the world, which abruptly stops just west of Ireland, there is danger from all sides. The Scots, who although they haven't seen Braveheart yet, do have an ominously large army to the North. Our traditional enemy, France, is rich and militarily strong to the South. We have few friends in Europe, we are minors in an alliance with Spain, thanks to the marriage of Catherine of Aragon to Henry's eldest son Arthur, and their other allies Milan. Listening to the condecending tone Cardinal Juarez, the Spainish legate spoke with at court, I realize that we are a third world country, and need to turn things around qucikly. I have a vague plan in mind, I need to get out of this alliance before the Spanish draw us into a war, and I need to do something about the Scots.

 

My desire for not changing history takes a back seat to my desire to avoid the spiked table in the Tower, so history be damned, I have to do things my way. My first actions are the budget. Almost all of our income will go towards promoting stability and research, we need to build the kingdom up from within, and pray that France or Scotland don't attack. I'm going to slowly add to our fleet, but not our army in the hopes that we can keep our enemies in the sea. For that strategy to work, I have to deal with the blue faced demons up north, and armed with the knowledge of what happened in history I abandon any thought of conquering Scotland by force. The Scots may fight like demons on the field of battle, but they have a weakess; money. I will buy their friendship, get out of our alliance with the Dons and try to set up relations with German states on France's border, and the Scots. Aha, I hear you say, what about Calais? Well, despite protests from the Court here, I will suggest it's abandonment, even doing their best trying to keep it, it was lost in the 1540's so I'm not going to waste my time over what will only turn out to be a run down Channel port.

 

I spend much of my first year, doing...nothing. We have no money, I send what little we do northwards, and foster a better relationship with the land that will later lose to Costa Rica in the World Cup. I send the Earl of Northumberland's prettiest daughter to marry King James, and if our diplomats can hurry their asses up and get back from  their assignments, I'm going to tell the Spanish where to stick their alliance, and begin a new one with our new friends and neighbors. While, there seems so much going on in the world that I don't take notice of everything, our Court is told of Poland going to war with Courland, and our "friends and ally" annexing Granada. I content myself with attending the marriage of the Earl of Buckingham's son to the Elector of Brandenburg's daughter. I wish him luck, he will need many distractions in life if he is to remain happy and not spend too much time with his 300 pound wife.

 

Just as I'm getting used to this, disaster strikes, Spain declares war on France. Obviously, they think we're coming to help but I take a huge risk, and go visit Cardinal Juarez in his bedchambers early in the morning, barging-in to find him and his mistress hard at work.I tell him in no uncertain terms that we leave his alliance, and, as he is too embarrased to reply, take my leave. I am told that this will affect out government's stability, and that I've just given the most powerful nation on earth good excuse to declare war, but news of the Scots agreeing to a new alliance warms my heart. Regarding the Cardinal, I can't help but think that maybe Martin Luther had a point, or more to my current predicament, will have a point. I now intend to search for some German borders with France, and devoutly pray that the Spanish and French will annihalate each other and ignore our insignificant island. It looks like I am getting my wish, our erstwhile friends decide they prefer French wine, and send several thousand of their people over the border to try some. My spies at the court of King Ferdinand report troop movements by the Spanish border, but where they go in France is a mystery.

 

A few weeks later I realize that the Spanish lemmings must have been defeated, as France annexes Milan. Dammit, I know this didn't happen in history, the world is changing. My more immediate problem is that France just aquired a province, richer than half of England combined, we are in serious trouble. Looking for friends, I find the Lorraines breathing just as hard as we are. They jump at the chance to join our alliance. At years end we throw a "bring a Palatine" party, and the Elector of that nation shows up drunk and signs his name to our "Grand Alliance." With Scotland, Lorraine, Palatine and England, we may have enough to survive for the short term. Diplomats all over Europe have been busy and our other targets are unavailable. As tempting as adding Navarre is, and thus giving France enemies on three sides we rate their chances of survival slightly lower than a wingless pigeon on a freeway and decide to pass on them as allies. We now have to look at the longer term picture, targetting allies when their alliances expire, building the fleet, and spending money on internal officials.

 

As 1493 rolls round, I piece together a little more of my life. It appears that the Duke of Norfolk is not only a rival to my position, but also an excellent General. I solve my personal problems by dispatching him to an outpost near Bristol, he'll prove useful should the French show up for tea and crumpets on the south coast. He'll also be a week's ride from the capital, so his political status should take a plunge somewhat. The Turks decide to make war on the Mamelukes, I trust both the Austrians and Hungarians are having a more pleasant breakfast after they hear that news. Meanwhile, France Comte has fallen to the Dark Ones, and a combined 82,000 man French and Savoyan army is besieging Artois. Where in Gods name is the Spanish army? I spend some money on a lavish ermine boa for the King of Helvetia, he's delighted with the gift.

 

In December the Helvetians join our small band of friends and commit their 25,000 man army to our cause. I marry off the King's cousin's daughter to the son of the Duke of Hesse, and shortly afterwards, I dig up another relative to package off to Austria in the name of good relations. When my name is mentioned in the Royal marriage sweepstakes, I think back to Miss Hanover, and politely decline any possibility of a blind marriage. I happen to pass Cardinal Juarez on the way to the privies, and casually ask how his nation's war is going. I am answered by a glare and decide to move along. Judging from the abscence of Spanish troops in the low countries, and the French army's romp through those provinces, I would say the war goes badly for Spain.

 

Part of my duties include aiding the heir to the throne learn the responsibilities of being a monarch. Armed with a knowledge of history, but fearful of being burnt as a witch I begin the education of Prince Arthur. When I suggest, that maybe the King's younger son be included in these activities he scoffs. He has a point, the sons are entirely different. Arthur is scholarly, feeble, and like his father immensely boring. Hal, on the other hand is a jock. Although, still a child he is blessed with athleticism, but apparantly challenged by rational thought. I pay a lot of visits to him, but he's more interested in playing swords with the Royal guard than learning how to promote bailiffs to tax collectors. Nevertheless, he treats me like an uncle, and knowing how volatile he'll become when he gets older, this is definately an advantage. When Hal falls off a horse, and lands awkwardly I'm fearful, I know just what a problem those crown jewels will be if they don't produce a son.

 

Meanwhile, the mundane work of promoting bailiffs, and marrying rich heirs off continues. In a whirlwind tour, the offspring of Saxony, Brandenburg, and jumped up merchant from the Hanseatic League marry English bluebloods in Westminster Abbey. I'm hoping for more long term friends in Germany to help against the Gallic menace. Speaking of which, troops were reported passing Calais on their way to an unknown destination. Could this be a French invasion force?

 

May 1496, notable for two events, Russia declares war on Kazan, and France declares war on England. Lord Platini delivers the declaration to me personaly, not wanting to contravene the chivalric code, or intefere with the genes that will become France's finest footballer, I refrain from sticking him with my dirk. I convene the military council. Knowing that the French cannot simply take Calais to force a peace, we decide to merge our fleet and send it round the coast on the lookout for crapauds. If the French get ashore, Norfolk should be enough to deal with them. We also hope our allies can do some damage.

 

So much for the best laid plans. It all looks great on 6th of May when our fleet sinks the French invasion force. At the same time a combined army of Lorraine, Palatine and Helvetia besiege Champaigne. However, later that month, 10 French ships send our 36 warships running in the second battle of the Channel. Remind me to have the admiral responsible for that mess reassigned to latrine digging in Connaught at the next convenient time. Our allies quickly capture Champagne, and then go on to assault Nivernais. I assume the bulk of the French army is both on the bottom, and the surface of the channel, and despatch Norfolk south, but the French and Savoyans pop up in Helvetia and lay siege. The gay abandonment with which the Helvetian army ignores the siege of their only province and marches on Picardie makes me both admire their courage, and worry for the future of their kingdom. The Helvetian redoubt does not look like falling early, so we decide to take the plunge and get some troops over to France to end the war. Provided my navy has the courage not to run from a nasty flock of seagulls I intend to land in Normandy, storm the town and make an offer of peace. I need to accomplish this before the Kamikaze Helvetians are annexed. If we succeed, we may weaken France irevocably, if we fail, well I have a fast horse and some money saved up.

 

As December turns into January, we have both good and bad news. Our navy manages to sink all 8 of the French super ships that defeated them last time, and Picardie falls to the Palatine. We storm the walls in Normandy, but are repulsed. Our gunsmiths finally know how to make cannons and we place an order for 40 to be made in Calais. Helvetia falls to the French, but it turns out that the Papal States that led the siege. They make peace with the Helvetians for the contents of all the Swiss banks. Helvetia survives, but makes a white peace with both France and Savoy. That means that 60,000 troops will soon be showing up in Normandy. We hope the canons get made quickly. The Palatine's troops obviously take steroids, as they storm the Ile De France, and then head south in search of more plunder. A combined Palatine and Lorraine army crushes the French in the Battle of Bourgone. If we can just take Normandy, we can get out of this war. The heathen make peace with the Palatinate giving up Champaigne, Picardie and 106 gold crowns. Our joy at seeing the French humbled turns to fear as there are only 20,000 Lorraines between us and destruction. On the home front Lambert Simnel shows up a year late as part of a Yorkist plot to seize the throne. Our government's grip on the country is weakened, and our monarch is weakened by the crisis. Can anything else go wrong?

 

In March another assault on Normandy fails, I have ordered prayers for the troops there to be said at mass. A 20,000 man army of the Papal States is heading our way, we're in trouble as the troops are exhausted from their efforts. In the channel, 4 Polish ships turn up, and much to my surprise I find them allied with France. Even more to my surprise, since my latrine threat, the navy appears to have turned things around. Under the leadership of Cabot, the Poles are sent to join the French fleet at the bottom of the channel. It looks like those prayers worked. The Papal army heads for Calais, and the bulk of the French army tries to recapture Nivernais. We have another shot at Normandy.

 

I cross the channel personally, and much to Norfolk's chagrin receite the "Once more into the breach dear friends" speech from Henry V to the troops. It seems to work, as our 3rd assault captures the city. I try and make peace, but the French are being petulant and refuse to listen to our generous offers. When France recaptures Nivernais, I know that the writing is on the wall for us. Despite the miricle of Normandy, we are in serious trouble again. When Frederick the Great was cornered, he always attacked, so despite the Papal States force in Calais, we head for Caux and prepare to assault. 4,000 Poles show up in Anglia, not enough to force a siege. We take Caux almost simultaneously as Calais fall to the Papal States. Lorraine makes peace, paying indemnities to France, but keeping both provinces. We head for Calais. Due to the pecularities of the Palatine peace, they are still at war with the Papacy, and their troops take time out from parading through the streets of their new province to help us lay siege.

 

In February, Cabot wins another dramatic victory in the channel. However, by some quirk, 10,000 Papal soliders arrive in Yorkshire, no worry, there  are 30,0000 Scots ready and waiting. The siege of Calais continues, while the French try to retake Normandy. The two cities  fall within days of each other. The French finally come to terms, agreeing to pay us 250 Francs, but with typical Gallic charm they fail to stump up the cash. We are now at war with the Papal State, whose army is weakening the walls of Yorkshire. The Scots are doing nothing. Sitting on their pikes, while 50 miles away my city is about to fall. I scramble Norfolk, and the tattered remains of his expeditionary force aboard ships and try to get them to England in time. So far the only winner of this war is Palatine, but as their new provinces are seperated from their home provinces, I can't see them being able to hold on in the face of nationalist revolts.

 

By November, Norfolks troops debark their ships and engage the Papal forces at the twin battles of York and Lincoln. There are no survivors, and we bump into, and bump off the Papal fleet on our way back to the channel. After an  inauspicious beginning, the fleet has performed admirably, sending two French fleets, and a Polish one to a watery end. We make peace with the Pope in return for 250 Guineas, but the Scots and ourselves have to be content with 10 each. I'm pissed with my highland friends, while our European allies and ourselves were running ragged round France, the Scots army of 60,000 men sat around scratching their arses and getting drunk in Glasgow. This is not a good sign. So the war ends, there is a lingering war between the Palatine and Papal States, but as Palatine is landlocked, 100's from miles from Rome, we assume the war will be fought by poisonous correspondence.

 

After two years of war, and every penny of the yearly census tax going into building troops we have a smaller navy than we started with, and a battle worn army. Our allies bloodied the French nose, and the loss of those provinces will hurt, but I had hoped to get a little more out of a war that went so well. The French will probably be more prepared next time.

 

I had an interesting discussion with Cabot in the pub the other night. While I have been trying to persuade sea captains to head West for the last couple of years, Cabot is the only one who has agreed. I dispatch him and a couple of ships in the vague direction of where I know America to be. I just hope he finds the tobacco growing south rather than the frozen wasteland that will become Canada.

 

The Fremch thirst for war is unabated, and this time they declare war on Spain in October 1499. Their faithfull lickspittles, Savoy, Poland, The Papal States, and Navarre are joined by a new ally, the mighty force of Cyrenaica. Spain has Naples and Cologne in their pockets, but I dont know how effective those allies could be. Got drunk with Prince Henry the other night, he asked when he was going to be married off. This gave me a jolt, and an idea; if I can marry off Henry to someone, it will avoid the whole Catherine of Aragon mess, and the split from Rome, I will begin a search tomorrow.

 

When I heard the news this morning I almost choked on my kippers. Helvetia declared war on Savoy. What could that fur loving moron in Basle be thinking? Palatine jumps in, so too does Scotland (another year of scratching their butts with their pike handles no doubt) but Lorraine says no. I agree to the war, and then invite Lorraine back into the alliance. Myself and the Lorraine ambassador spend the whole afternoon trying to understand what got into the Swiss but we're stumped. I order Norfolk back to France, he's still out of breath from the walk down from York, and I hope for a quick stab at Normandy. Our army is pitifully small; 16,000 troops, 37 guns and a handfull of cavalry. Nevertheless, with Spain  as a distraction, we may be able to salvage something from this in the back door. Cabot is still off playing Colombus, so I keep the navy together and hope to catch enemy fleets in the channel. All of the French allies join the war, but if I see Cyranaician infantry besieging London, I'll eat my shoes.

 

The Palatine army departs Picardie to lay siege to Ile De France, where by the fortunes of war, they are joined by 10,000 of Cologne's finest, and find a strange Germanic comradeship in reducing the city, despite fighting for the Spanish. Norfolk lays siege to Normandy again, and we sink 3 Papal ships in the channel. I notice a 45,0000 man Papal States army heading through Milan, now I see where all the collection money goes. How can they afford such an enormous army? The Helvetian army is destroyed, and 115,000 combined troops storm the walls of Geneva. Helvetia agrees to annexation by Savoy, and I shrug and wonder just what the hell was going on, when it appears that we are still at war. Though I dont understand why, us Scotland and Palatine are still at war with the French alliance. Meanwhile the Palatine calls off their siege of France to put down a revolt in Picardie. Our fleet in the channel is assaulted by 16 ships from Navarre, perhaps I should have allied with them after all. I breath a sigh of relief when 6 ships join the growing number of wrecks in the channel, and the rest turn and flee. The French juggernaut turns it's attention to Franche Comte. As I had hoped, they are treating the Spaish as their main enemy. We may get something out of the war after all.

 

In May Spain and France agree to a White Peace, the last thing I need to hear. France refuses peace from me. Navarre displays the Kamakaze instincts of the Helvetians, with not one, but three more attacks in the channel. They do not stop until all their ships lie at what is becoming a crowded bottom of the sea. France turns it's juggernaut towards Champaigne. Palatine meanwhile, crushes the Picardie revolt and moves back to siege Ile de France. Their main armies are cut off, behind Lorraine, and will not impact the war. By December, Normandy has fallen, I send Norfolk to besiege Maine, and some hastily conscripted reinforcements to provide a distraction in Orleans. Palatine has nearly cracked Ile De France, while the French have almost taken Champagne. Cabot returns from his trip and is given command of the channel fleet. His commision is only 5 days old when he dies. He does however leave behind charts on the coast of N. America, and detailed plans of a province called Chesapeak. While we have more pressing matters to attend to, we will be sending some colonists to America as soon as this war is over.

 

By February 1501, the situation is once again desperate. Orleans, and Maine are on the verge of falling to us when the Palatines make peace with France. In this most bizarre war, they head home to Champaigne to fight the Papal States and Savoy. Their army is crushed, and they sue for peace paying indemities. I send Norfolk to Armour, where French troops are being trained. I hope to crush that army while they are still raw. As the battle begins Maine falls to us, and despite refusing a white peace just a month ago, Platini shows up in my dining room with a peace offer from his master. It takes a good ten minutes for me to clear the oatmeal out of my windpipe and for my physician Dr Heimleich to perform a maneover on my stomach to help me breath. The French offer Maine and Normandy in return for our gracious peace. As soon as I could compose myself I said that the King's Council would consider the proposal, and then rushed out the door. My servants already consider me strange, the fact that I bathe, and demand that my clothes are cleaned seem odd enough to them, but as I slid down the bannister and skipped out the door singing, they must have thought me mad. I intend to have the King's seal on the Peace treaty and it on a ship back to France before the French realize that Norfolk was not just taking the vanguard of the English army to Armour, but the entire land forces at our disposal. Some Frenchman is going to lose his head when they realize what a sham our forces really are.

 

At Hampton the King smiles, and shakes my hand, a devasting show of emotion by his standards, and he bestows me with the title Duke of Normandy. While this series of events has screwed up history, and my plans for a fleet based defense of England, it again weakens France, and gives us a little breathing room when they next attack, as they surely will. I make a mental note to lay a wreath at the graveside of the former King of Helvetia, it was his bout of insanity which began this happy occurence. Unfortunately, we will be faced with an expensive garrison force in France, and the inevitable peasant uprisings, but having begun the century franticaly working for our islands survival, we have had a fortunate windfall. I'm going to need another ally in Europe to replace Helvetia, so I will continue the courtship of Hesse. It may also be worthwhile to find an Italian aid, as the Savoy and Papal armies make up the bulk of French forces. First on the agenda is to dispatch a group of settlers to Chesapeak. I personally attend the departure of the settlers, a bunch of landless rabble, and French prisoners of war. I wish them luck knowing that the future of the world depends on their success.

 

With the management of the war, I neglect Henry's marriage until it's too late. Prince Arthur dies suddenly, and the King won't allow the marriage with Spain to expire. He personally oversees the marriage of Henry to Catherine despite my protests. The next year passes peacefully, and I order the upgrade of both Normandy and Maine's fortresses. In May I invite Venice into our alliance, partly for the security of another friend with a fleet, and partly because it took 6 weeks of personal negotiation in Venice to sign the treaty. I explained to the King that although service to one's Monarch can be a tiresome burden, that I will continue yearly trips to Venice to ensure our kingdom's security. The scum we packaged off to Chesapeak appear content. Though it's too early to advance our colonies, the land there does have good potential.

 

Our proximity to the French shipyards allows us to observe frantic work being carried out on a new French fleet. I think they are already planning to rectify the mistakes of their previous negotiations. Next year I will be planning a trip to Hesse to try and bolster up our German friends. The Scots have so far proved less than useless in our wars, but at least their 100,000 troops aren't aimed at us. I went out drinking with Henry, he really isn't the monster he's painted by history. He's actually quite a laugh. He spends his days hunting, racing and wrestling, and his nights as far away from Catherine as possible. He discussed his plans for being King; he doesn't have any. Being the younger son he never expected to have to work for a living, and the idea of scrutinizing the crop reports from Dorset isn't all that appealing. He's different from his father as is humanly possible.

 

The next two years are mercifully peaceful. I curb spending, allowing our treasury to build up in case of the next war with France. I have promoted Tax collectors in all English provinces, but don't bother with Ireland yet, or the new French lands. We are troubled by a revolt in Chesapeake, I have no idea what those idiots were moaning about, they dont even live here any more. I transported 1000 troops to deal with the problems. Aparantly the colony become overrun by religious nuts who were intent on burning the entire settlement claiming withcraft. I have no idea what the native Americans think of all this. They probably assume these white nuts can't do anyone any harm. The rest of the world isn't quite as tranquil, as Russia loses a short war to Kazan, paying 250, and Courland is annexed by Poland. By January 1506 I have amassed over 600 guineas in the slush fund. Our monthly income is 32.5, of which all but 1.1 is spent on research, our yearly total is 606, 212 of which are from the yearly census. There is an atmousphere of the calm before the storm. Even after taking a significant amount of money to the Duke of Hesse, he refuses to join our alliance. I manage to marry off Henry's younger sister to Savoy, just to prevent them going crazy and declaring war on us.

 

The next several years pass just as quietly, We are struck with desertions from the army in France, so I make a modest strengthening of our forces there. I also raise a small levy in Ireland, and increase our fleet size back up to 50 warships. I leave Calais unmanned, concentrating Norfolk's forces in Maine, where he has 20,000 infantry, 3000 cavalry and 80 guns. If we're attacked, hopefully France will take the bait, leaving us free to pillage their rear. Another member of the Cabot family steps forward. He volunteers to map out the coast of New England. I ask him to find suitable lands for settlement North and South of our current colony. While there has been no problem from the natives, only 16 people survived the witch hunter and our subsequent military action. Hopefully our next settlement will have a little more sanity to it. Then, in 1509 as Henry lies on his death bed France declares war again...on Spain! This is tremendous news, their whole gang; Papal States, Savoy, Poland and Navarre join the fray, though we wonder how they will fare as Cyranacia dishonor the alliance. Spain blackmails Portugal, Cologne and Hesse into fighting for them. We shall sit back in glee and hope that they destroy each other. The Palatine ambassador teaches me a new word -Schardenfreun (sp?) the delight in other's misfortunes.

 

I'm sorely tempted to launch a strike into Caux and steal another channel port, but from out limited intelligence of the war, France appears to have the upper hand. They destroy the Spanish army who picked of all places the rocky province of Helvetia to besiege. I have seen thousands of Cologne and Hesse troops descend on Ile De France, but I have no idea how they fare. It must be a genetic trait in Germans, the ability to take Paris. Our Palatine allies demonstrated it admirably just a few years before. Cabot's having no luck out in America. He doesn't have his brother's skill at mapping provinces, but give him credit he keeps trying. In June the King dies, and his son is crowned Henry VIII King of England, Ireland and France. That France bit has more of a ring of truth to it due to our previous success, but it's still a bit of a stretch. Norfolk returns from France to crown Henry. I think he wants to come back to the council, but Henry and I know he is more useful with our armies. Dissapointed, I try to make it up to him by bestowing him the title Duke of Orleans, he's quite excited until he realizes that we don't own Orleans, so I hastily tag on Lord Protector of England to his list which delights him no end. It really is the simple things in life which make men happy. Looking back at Henry, his reign was exciting, making up for the man's lack of personality. Unfortunately, I know that we are in for fireworks over the next few years as the next Henry takes his place on the throne.

 

The Franco-Spanish war appears to be taking a turn towards Spain. They assualt Helvetia, and win a couple of small skirmishes in the Low countries. Oh, the irony of France and Spain battling over a land neither will be able to hold. The temptation to strike a blow against the evil ones is proving too much. I fear that neither Henry or I will be able to resist, especially as the entire French alliance army appears to be in Languedoc. A quick strike now might be enough to cripple the French for the next hundred years. While I mull the decision, I take a look at reports from around the world. The Austrian Habsburgs have inherited Hungary. Their Kingdom is now truely an empire. They'll need all the help they can get situated where they are between the Poles and the Turks. Russia meanwhile has decided to have another bash at Kazan. Let's hope they're as unsuccessful as last time.

 

When France fails in another assault of Langudoc the King and I can resist no longer. We declare war in March 1511, despite the consequences to our internal stability. I detach the cavalry, and part of Norfolk's infantry to act as a forward screen while Norfolk sieges Orleans. A new army is raised in Main and Normandy which will siege another town. Lorrain appears stricken with Hevetian diasese, as rather than go for a nice simple attack, they march their entire army over the alps, through Spanish garrisoned Helvetia to Milan. They'll be lucky if any of them make it there alive. The Palatine army stay true to form and go straight to Ile De France. By now, I would imagine that the Parisians have a decent knowledge of German, and that shopkeepers there keep Brautwurst handy to sell to the next round of invaders. Our fleet in the channel meets a couple of Polish warships who join their compatriots, and the many Navarrese and Papists at the bottom of the channel. The Scots seem content to sit around the glens counting the money we gave them. Oh well, as I said to the king, at least they're not coming for us.

 

As desperate as the second French war looked, this one looks encouraging. The French and their allies are exhausted. I don't see any French troops being raised. Of the mighty 100,0000 men that began the siege of Rousillon, I only hear reports of about 40,000 walking back through southern France. Almost the entire country is in flames, as the soldiers of 12 nations rampage through France. By July, Norfolk has taken Orleans, it looks like a repeat of the hundred years war. Meanwhile, Venice has captured Milan and is now besieging the empty Papal States. The Pope's armies are still marching back from Spain. Lorraine did not go for Naples, but for Helvetia which the Spainish had failed to capture. The armies of the Palatinate leave Paris to crush a revolt in Champaigne. In a funny note to the war, their 50,000 exhausted men are repulsed by 20,000 combined Savoyans and Navarrese, who then take up the siege against the rebels. Norfolk moves south to Bourgone to cut off the French army trying to return from Spain. What begins as a small encounter against 2000 Papal soldiers becomes one of the largest battles of the war, as the returning French columns stumble into Bourgone. La Palice and his 30,000 French and Navarese are repulsed, but the battle has exhausted Norfolks troops, and he is forced to retire when another 20,000 of The Pope's troops arrive. The French and allied soldiers stumble into Nivernais on their retreat from Bourgogne. The 30,000 Lorraines waiting there cut them to pieces. Norfolk retires to Orleans, and LaPalice retreats with his stragglers to Champaigne, where 50,000 Palatine troops annihalate his army, killing the famous French conquerer of Milan. Lorraine makes peace with Savoy, and picks up Helvetia, and 156 Francs. They deserve every penny. Spain, meanwhile gathers a new army, and begins pursuing the French into France. If only there was a way for us all to communicate, we could partition France and Savoy between us all. Though the French army is extinct, I have a fear that my allies, or our temperal Spanish friends may cease the war and give France a chance to survive. During all this, the Scots are still playing poker in Falkirk with our money. We hope to be home in time for Christmas.

 

Well, did I get the war length wrong! The movement of all the nation's troops looks like organized anarchy. How little did I know that the short stab in the back would bankrupt us all. After  reinfocements arrive, Norfolk is ordered south again to Bourgogne. As an aside, Russia claimed 133 Roubles back from Kazan in their peace. The Spanish Hessian allies marched to Paris, there have been more Germans than French in the city of light these past few years. The Venetian army besieges Milan. An excellent move, if they can take the city, a quick peace may be at hand. The Lorraine army again besieges Nivernaise, and a Savoyan attack in Bourgogne is repulsed by Norfolk. The remnants of the Papal army, miles from home besiege Champaigne, but are crushed by a Palatine counter attack. I must ask the Lorraines if we can build a memorial to the Helvetian King who started this madness ten years ago. The Venetians take Milan, and we offer the generous peace of Orleans, and Milan. France stubbornly refuses to give up Milan, and over the coming months offers us every combination of provinces imaginable. The Venetians, buoyed from their success move on to the deserted Papal States where they leisurely take up the siege of Emilia. They can take their time, the Papal army is bumbling from one defeat to another in the crowded north eastern countryside of France.

 

Our colonists in Roanoke have dissapeared, I tempted fate, history records the lost colony as occuring half a century later, but I should have known better than to try to change too much. In August 1511 Spain and France make a white peace, ordinarily I would have quaked with the thought of France concentrating her forces on us, but the number of French troops within scouting range is pitifully small. The troops are still hoping to be home in time for Christmas. As the Hessians vacate Paris, the Pattesseries needn't have worried about their sausage sales declining as the Palatine troops arrive just in time. We continue to offer peace, despite haveing taken Orleans, Bourgogne and Berri, our request of Milan and Orleans is continually denied. We decide to aid the Palatines in Paris, perhaps the sight of their capital in flames may provoke the French to accept peace. The Lorraines move towards Lyonnaise, but because of their treaty with Savoy their successes will prompt a seperate peace with France. Naples meanwhile breaks free of her annexation by Spain, I put on a masterful performance of sympathy and consolation for Don Zubezarreta, inside I want to jump for joy.

 

The next few weeks sees a flurry of activity around the scarred rubble that once held French cities. In December 1511 Field Chief Judge Brandon is promoted to command, and takes control of our smaller blocking force in Bourgogne. Following a brief winter hiatus, in February 1512 Lyonnaise falls to Lorrain. I'm hoping that our allies will have the sense to make peace now and take Nivernaise in a truce. A month later Paris falls to Norfolk, and we again ask for peace. The only response from Cardinal Cantona, the new French ambassador to the Court of Henry VIII is "Au revoir." Meanwhile Brandon wins his spurs with a crushing victory over Navarre. Despite being outnumbered 3;1 he out-maneuvers the Navarrese army and catches them on the march in Orleans. When the smoke clears, 10,0000 of the enemy are dead, to the loss of just 500 English troops. It's the finest victory since Agincourt, and the church bells peel out around the country. Surely, we'll be home by Christmas now. Cabot the younger meanwhile meets his death while charting Manhattan, we recall his fleet and add it to our home force. In April the newly replaced French fleet puts in an appearance, a rarity these days. An even greater rarity is the sight of a Scot with a pike, but 30 of their ships join our 23 in a pursuit around the Irish coast, which ends with the sinking of the French fleet in the Irish sea.

 

In June, the French army has scraped together 18,000 conscripts to besiege Nivernaise. Norfolk waits until the city walls look like falling before swooping and sending another bunch of Fleur de Lis to the ground. On a more disturbing note, 30,000 French soldiers begin an attempt to retake Milan. The French are really desperate to hold that city. The Venetians, meanwhile have stepped up the pace in Emilia, and that city falls to General Vialli. He energises the attack, and his troops move on to Romagne. All that's left to fight with in Rome are communion wafers, they must have bankrupt the country with their military spending over the past several years. In November, the Lorraine army tries to save Milan, but are repulsed, the French offer just Berri in my latest meeting with Cantona. They must be trying to make up for the ridiculous peace they gave us after the last war. The French ambassador tells me that unless I accept the peace, he will taunt me a second time. I manage to survive. In the hopes of getting the troops home by some Christmas, Brandon moves to Armour. In January 1513 I promote Lord Howard to Admiral and put him in charge of the Channel fleet. The 25 ships there meet a combined French and Polish fleet and send them scamparing. Yes, the Poles, I had to read the report twice, it appears that the Poles gave up on their quest for the "Glasgow Award For Inactivity During A War" and put in a token appearance. Let's hope the French pay them back later when the Turks or Russians close in on Warsaw.

 

For much of 1513, the English army stands idle, content to wait out a peace. The French relieve Milan, and we switch our demands to Emilia, we really want the Venetians to be rewarded for all their work. The French liberators of Milan turn their attention to Bourgogne, the French must have taken loans to be able to afford all the troops they have in the field. Not wanting to risk our bargaining chip we send in Norfolk. He relieves the city in a close run battle that results in the detruction of much of our field army. For the first time since the war began, we start to panic. Panic turns to hysteria at the Court in September when our Palatine allies make peace with the Evil Ones for Auvergne and 90 Marks. We can't help but wonder how Palatine expects to hold onto their three new provinces, as each is isolated in a sea of France. In January of 1514 Brandon's troops replace Norfolk in Burgogne and win another close run battle. We hastily rebuild our army from the recruiting areas of Normandy and Maine.

 

Another Christmas rolls around, and the only good news is that Romagne has finally fallen to the Venetians. The Papal States are sending white peace offers every other day, but who are we to deny our allies their fun. By all accounts, the city defenders have resorted to throwing office furniture over the walls, as they can't afford the ammunition for their cannon. We patiently wait out the year hoping that Venice will finish off Rome and make peace with the Papal States seperately. The war has ground to a halt, all sides are exhausted, there is almost no movement from any of the armies through the year.

 

In December 1514 three and a half years after the war began, it's all over. The Treaty of Orleans is signed on the first of that month, ratifying a number of seperate peace treaties all occuring within the last two months. The result is the partition of France, and the castration of the Papal States. The most powerful alliance in Europe, who confidently strutted into Spain a few years earlier are crushed. Venice takes Romagna, Emilia and 171 lire from the Papal States. Lorraine takes Nivernaise and the contents of the French treasury, England takes Orleans and Bourgogne. The result leaves Northern France cleft, with only Caux and Ile De France remaining intact. To their East, Lorraine now becomes a genuine European power with four contiguous provinces from Helvetia to Lorraine. The Palatinate is a little bizzare, they added Auvergne to their previous captures of Picardie, and Champaigne. We keep our fingers crossed that they can supress the revolts for the next few years. On the Adriatic, Venice has become the most powerful nation in Italy. We are delighted with the success of our allies. As for ourselves, we are content with reforming much of the Angevin lands in the West of France, stretching from Normandy to Burgogne. France has been humbled, and should take many decades to recover the devastation of almost ten years of war on their soil. We have a change in strategy, we need no longer concentrate on expensive fleets, our European provinces will be the most sought after, we need a solid infantry force to hold our hard won possessions.

 

Sitting in the Abbey of Westminster, where the King is preparing to hand out more titles to myself, Brandon and Norfolk, I look back at the fortunes of war. We barely survived the last century intact, now, with the right management we are in a position to become a force in Europe once again. The first battle of Bourgogne caught the French troops at a perfect time, their force was scattered and they were repulsed in detail by Norfolk, before stumbling into the Lorraines. That victory ensured our small military force would be enough to win a resolution. The Second and Third battles of Bourgogne were equally as important, they prevented the tide turning, and ensured we had the staying power to sit out while the Venetians conquered Rome. Although we haven't taken a bank loan, and we did not divert monthly income to the treasury we have a lot of work over the coming years. Inflation remains low, but we have no money, hardly any troops, and four hostile provinces to pacify. Provided we can keep our alliance together we should remain strong, because while one enemy is defeated, the strength and power of Spain may continue unchecked.

 

The years 1516 and 1517 pass with little incident. I spend our yearly income on strengthening the military, and replacing the losses from the French revolts. Meanwhile, Turkey has annexed The Crimea making them an ominous threat to Austria, Poland and Venice. I reconsider my courtship of Austria, as I have no desire to see us or our allies dragged into wars in the East. In December of 1516 Russia holds her biannual War on Kazan fiesta, we wait with baited breath for the outcome. During these quiet times, Henry, Thomas Moore and myself spend quite a few evenings in the less regal establishments of London. The advantage of a medialess society, is that provided you dress down, no one will ever know who you are. The bad news is that it's getting increasingly difficult to get Henry into his wife's bedchamber as he's constantly on the prowl around the night spots of London. If Henry was around today, he'd be a linebacker for Florida State, the guy is a moose. While Hal and clever might not be deliberately used in the same sentence, he's shrewd, just has no interest for books. When we journeyed to Orleans, Henry was surprised that we had to cross the channel, but he has something, he gets more action than the Backstreet Boys combined. Still no sign of a son and heir, his daughter Mary was unfortunate to inherit her Grandmothers looks, all the beauty of an office filing cabinet, and her Grandfather's personality, a Royal marriage for that one is going to be tough.

 

In November 1517, some hardy souls from Normandy, so disgusted with our rule and brutal suppresion of French cuisine have appealed to our offices to explore the wilderness outside Chesapeake. We send them on their way with enough flags to stake claims in all the territories they discover.

 

In December 1517 I almost choke on my beef stew when Cantona informs me that France has declared war on Spain again. While their judgement may be questionable, their courage certainly isn't I can't believe they're at it again. I make a vow not to interfere, we got lucky last time, and I have no intention of letting slip our hard fought gains. In the intervening months France has been busy, adding Iraq, Georgia and Naples to existing allies Poland Savoy and Navarre. I can't see that putting them over the edge. In the red corner, Spain added Hanover, The Teutonic nights, Tripoli, and our old foes Cyrenacia to the fold. I imagine the Hanoverians and Teutons will be the latest group of German tourists to visit the city on the Seine, and I move my residence to Orleans to be closer to the action.      

 

The war develops into a two front affair, there's no way France can get troops from her southern provinces to the north, and right on cue the Cologne and Hanoverian armies meet and siege Paris. They appear to have brought numbers, but no guns as the siege shows no sign of improving until the year's end. In the South, France besieges and captures Rousillon by mid 1518, while Spain showing a complete disregard for strategic thinking ignore that force, and move on to Lyonnaise. Am I missing something about that province? Savoy, Lorraine and France fought like savages over that province a few years ago. The Savoyans settle into a siege in Gerona. Showing a new found activity when it improves their own interest, the Poles make peace with the Teutons, in exchange for Memel, Ingermarland and some cash. In the Group 5 of the European Qualifiers, Russia ties Kazan to a Status Quo peace, thats a win for Kazan on goal difference. As the year ends, Brandon gets hammered by rebels in Maine and we have to dispatch Norfolk to settle them down. I meet this gorgeous red head called Anne at a court feast, what a girl, a real magician with her tongue. In January 1519 two events occur in Germany. Martin Luther pins his shopping list to a church door and sets in motion a set of events which will lead to bloodshed and religious hatred, while in Vienna, Karl V is proclaimed Holy Roman Emperor, for whatever it's worth.

 

We finally get a colony going in Roanoke, those Normans must really despise us. I toy with the idea of changing state religion, but decide that we have to wait. Despite my beliefs, I know it will be better for the nation to become Protestant in the long term, but we can't risk our alliance collapsing while that homicidal maniac rules in Paris, and we don't have enough troops to quash the rebelions in our three islands. It's a nice thought though, and would be worth it just to see the look on that slimey weasel Wolsley's face when I address him as Reverend instead of Cardinal.

 

Spain annexes Navarre, but then has her army wiped out by a revolt almost immediately. I can't see any Spanish troops in Spain. Paris falls to Cologne, and France buys them off with 63 francs. A Spanish army defeats the French at Caux, and storms the city. No doubt their next stop is Paris. I marry off an unemployed Royal to Austria, a usefull to check on threats to our Venetian brothers. I get a surprise, and break out in a cold sweat when I see the red head again and discover her name is Bolyen. I franticaly work with the Lorraine consulate to get her a position in the Queen's household there. Although I'll miss her, I need to get her as far away from Henry as possible, as he doesn't know where Lorraine is, we may yet produce a legal heir with Catherine. Henry writes a book condemning Protestantism, well Moore ghostwrites it, Hal supervises. I warn him that he may regret it, but who is he to listen, I've only conquered half of France. The book is  published, and His Holiness bestows the title, Defender Of The Faith on our King, the irony of it all. Our valiant French explorers discover Delaware, and we prepare another boatload of huddled masses to head out there as soon as we can afford it.

 

In March, the inevitable happens when Spanish and Hanoverians water their horses in the Seine. Despite Savoyan and French gains in the South, Spain imposes a humiliating peace on the French. Caux and Lyonnaise to Spain. The French kingdom now looks rather pathetic, and I can't help but wonder how much I had to do with it. The danger of a rampant Spain is growing. I decide to change our stance with France in a few years and try to bring them into our alliance. Having Spain as a neighbor in Caux gives one the same feelings as if Lucifer popped in for morning coffee. I tried to sell Princess Mary off to the Hanseatic League, but they refused our marriage offer. Perhaps there are some deaf-blind tribesmen in the Hidu Kush we can marry her to, otherwise I'm going to get in trouble with her father.

 

Aarrrgghhh, The Field Of Cloth Of Gold. Instead of taking place in France, Henry and King Antoine of Lorraine spent their yearly treasuries on a big piss up in Nivernaise. I would be far happier if Antoine had spent that money on troops as his army has become quite ragged lately. Guess who our rampant King met at the party, yes, that's right Anne Boleyn was there. Providence appears to be ensuring that however hard I try, some things never change. Henry is besotted, and who can blame him. The trouble is, that his trouble and strife sitting at home in London during the festivities is the cousin of the most powerful man on earth. In a hideous scheme to ingratiate himself with the King, Wolsley has assured him that he can secure a divorce if he goes to the Pope. I'd love to be in that meeting, but I fear that I will have to spend the next couple of years preparing for our severance from Rome. With our lands bordering both France and Spain, two of the less amiable Princes of Europe, and our Navy quite run down I fear for the worst.

 

On July 1st Bohemia declares war on Austria. Not a big deal I think, just another power play by a Prince, but then I read the fine print of the proclamation. Bohemia is joined by Thuringen, Saxony, Baden, Bavaria and Hesse, while Austria is joined by Moldavia and Lorraine. It looks like the whole of Germany will be at war for sometime, and this is bad news for everyone but Spain. I look again at the fine print because I have an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and there it is: Lorraine. Hang on a minute, Lorraine! They're our allies, we've helped them expand and prosper from being annexation fodder to a real power in Europe, and now they fight for Austria! I stomp around my office all day yelling for an explanation. A young clerk presents me with a dated announcement that Lorraine have become the vassals of Austria. What were they thinking? Those bloody Habsburgs are too lazy to do their duty and fight the Turks so they spend all their time and money wining and dining German nobles, until one silly sod goes and becomes their vassal. I order an investigation into why I was not informed of the announcement, though I curb my instinct to send someone to the block. I'll get even with Austria for this, outwardly we have a very good relationship with the Emperor, but trust me, there will come a time when we will get even for their diplomatic wrangling.