#austro-prussian war

[diemelusine]

The Battle of Königgrätz (c. 1869) by Georg Bleibtreu. Deutsches Historisches Museum.

[redarmyscreaming]

Königreich Hannover armee 1866

[warsofasoiaf]

In the struggle between Prussia and Austria for dominance of Germany, how big a role did sea access play? was lack of access to the atlantic a major factor in Austria's loss, or a minor one?

I’d chalk up the Prussian victory to superior tactics, training, organization, operational speed, and equipment rather than access to the Atlantic. 

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLkeALawyer, Hand of the King

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Pazienza e Perseveranza

*

Prima Parte: Veneziano

Everything had been so much simpler in the beginning. When you were young, you saw the world through tinted lenses; everything was dreamy and romantic.

Your ignorance was the epitome of peace and contentment. You never wanted for much else, as there was not much known to you beyond your small bubble. Moments were fleeting, your memories hazed to the point you could no longer discern your longing for the old days from the sanguine reality you knew.

That first love- innocent as a daisy and as pure as the first light shower at the end of a long autumn's day- was nothing more than a fuzzy feeling; you're reminded of a peach- it was sweet, soft, his lips were as gentle as a flower petal- Then your eyes are ripped open; the world is cold and bitter. Your first love marches off to a war he doesn't believe in. Your guardian is a tyrant, holding you captive solely for your resources. Your family is divided, physically kept away from each other as the world is terrified of your retribution. Together, you would be unstoppable, but separated you are weak.

You're a pitiful waste of your grandfather's name- -or so they would like to tell you. Your guardian has been an excellent teacher; there is more than one way to fight, and as inspiring as your eldest brother's passion is to destroy everything in his path until he is free, you have been perfecting the art of patience. When branching off on one's own, one must always be able to maneuver themselves through the complex policies of the modern age.

You know that in order to be successful, you will need to win over some powerful allies before you start setting your plans in motion.

There are several options you consider for your seductions-

There is the figurehead of Enlightenment, still bitter since his latest emperor was condemned to isolation, still teeming with a simmering anger that his conquests on the continent were all but for naught.

There is the seafarer, the Imperialist who has claimed so many as his own, concealing his thirst for power and control under a guise of refinement and industry.

There are others you could consider, former enemies and distant powers. You ponder allies who share the same household, seek out faces sharing your thirst for freedom in dining halls and cafes.

Your search is almost fruitless; very few seem keen on challenging your guardian’s foothold.

But there is hope.

Your guardian does possess one particularly begrudging ally, a soldier who commands one of the most impressive militaries you have beheld, a strategist who bears a mind sharper than a boning blade. He tolerates your guardian, though he continues to habour a bitter resentment for the rich, arrogant aristocrat. It’s not uncommon for the two to find points of contention, disputing constantly over taxes, borders, and composers.

With the right amount of charm and a suggestive push, you’re certain that you will win his favor and, much more importantly, his undying support.

But for now, you will continue to feign obliviousness, ignorant in terms of policy and economy, unskilled in the art of manipulating others to your needs. By the time you're finished, your guardian will be begging you to move out already. But for now, patience. If they continue to underestimate you, they’ll eventually give you everything you want. Pazienza è una virtù.

Seconda Parte: Seborga

The world often forgot you. Your eldest brother, despite the lies he fed himself, would always be the favored child. He was the heir, the real pride and joy of your grandfather's legacy.

You were the youngest, invisible to your parents, your grandparents, to the invaders who called themselves your friends. Gradually, you became more at ease with being overlooked. You were free to do as you wished, free to pursue any interests that struck your fancy.

Very few paid you any mind, letting you wander the empire as you wished, conducting your life in whatever manner you desired. While still required to attend formal events and make appearances at your guardian’s table at least once a fortnight, you were able to slip away seemingly unnoticed, providing you with a supreme advantage.

Reconnaissance soon became your greatest strength.

Rare was it for others to question you intentions, many doting on your seemingly insatiable curiosity. They often forgot you were one-third of a fallen empire, that you were just as valuable a player in this game as your brothers. You were often ignored by the outside world, your guardian swiping you up in the same storm with which he claimed your brothers- only to forget you in the next moment. You were just another mouth to feed, another insignificant face at his table. But those other unnamed faces sympathized with you. They too were often overlooked for their more talented siblings, for their beautiful cousins, for their parents' legacies. You find solidarity in the other unnamed, find allies in those who you had once viewed as enemies.

Often, they spoke of unifying against your common foe, working under a single banner for their freedom, for their own identities.

You could commiserate with the northerners; their culture and language were different than your own, but the rallying cry carried the same spirit as your own people.

Often, you wondered why you were overlooked; surely someone would have paid you more notice after the first insurrection. But for those few brief moments of rebelliousness, you were soon ignored yet again, falling back into obscurity after only a few brief months. Perhaps you need to adopt some of the fiery passion your eldest brother carries, or maybe you should learn how to display the calm compliance your elder brother exhibits.

The simple truth is that you will never understand either of them; neither seems to be making any progress at breaking free of this gilded imprisonment.

Both are pitiful at this game; one is too obvious, getting caught and reprimanded before he has a chance to put any of his plans into action. The other acts as if he is not interested in fighting for their freedom, attending parties and operas with your guardian like some love-struck puppy. Once in a while however, your elder brother catches your eyes and offers a small smile just for you. You don’t fully understand the wink that accompanied his grin, but you find yourself eased at the brilliant clarity in his caramel eyes, comforted by the confidence he shows for that brief instant. The mannerisms are dropped again almost immediately, the persona of a fool once again shrouding your companion. You wonder if you had imagined the whole exchange. Perhaps you are alone in this hell.

But you have your allies now, a legion of the forgotten ready to take back their identities, now indivisible under one flag.

You envy their optimism and passion; you finally accept that your family has abandoned you.

The eldest is a rebellious fool, dragged away to a land of beautiful beaches and pleasant rains. The second is an ignoramus, trailing on the coattails of the monster that had landed you all in this predicament to begin with. You are alone. You are insignificant to the kings, the emperors, the princes that stroll these gilded palace halls. In a landscape of snow and ice, you are no longer intimidated by the smiles that hide equally frozen hearts and intentions. You keep a warm smile on your face, knowing that your invisibility will make escape easier. The world forgets you exist. And that's why, when you receive a coded message from the eldest, with a detailed route to escape and save their home, you can't repress your smile.

The next day, when you see the scarcely repressed glee on your elder brother's face, the subtle nod he offers you, and the knowing glance towards the soldier he has been courting, you feel your breath catch in your understanding.

The world had forgotten you.

But your family? Famiglia non dimentica mai.

Terza Parte: Romano

Nothing in this world ever really changes.

You would never admit to your weaknesses, would never accept the conditions of your circumstances without putting up some kind of fight.

Your guardian's superiors have longed to abandon you for eons now, ready to shed off the cumbersome rebel who refused to fully cooperate with his circumstances. But your guardian is as stubborn as you; he refuses to throw you to the wolves.

You knew he was aware of your intentions.

You knew he was risking his own neck to protect you.

You knew he considered you his own kin.

Your younger brothers had it easier.

While their guardian gave them gilded chambers and elegant galas, he would always ensure that you felt the true weight of his control.

While equal in prestige and power to the aristocrat, there were still things that your former conquistador could not protect you from, your people's suffering a constant presence weighing on your mind.

You found ways to distract yourself, learning to appreciate the contentment that comes in the simplicity of an isolated existence. Most days, it would just be you and your guardian in the fields, spending weeks at a time with only each other as company.

The isolation gives you a crippling disadvantage, any news of the outside world coming only with the envoys sent by his leaders, the gravity of your circumstance hidden in the coded drawings sent by your younger brother.

His messages reveal his plans, speak of his and the youngest’s ongoing search for alliances among the other “guests” at their guardian’s estate. They ask you for any advice, beg to be included in your next rebellion.

Their persistence reminds you once again of the cunning involved in sending you so far abroad, the strategic planning that went into giving you away.

There are few allies to be made in the countryside, your isolation on this God-forsaken peninsula part of a scheme to crush your spirits.

You think his pompous, bespectacled lordliness should have made that clear to the former pirate snoring under a tree; you hadn't been this much at ease since before Nonno had left.

Your carefree caretaker is delighted that you are more focused on your studies, begins discussing strategy and warfare and policy with you late into the evenings. At first, you wonder if he may perhaps be the most oblivious oaf on the continent, but as his explanations grow more detailed and certain, you learn that he is also greatly at odds with your enemy.

He plays a fool incredibly well, feigning ignorance whenever visiting dignitaries make mention of the revolts in a distant territory, laughing off concerns of politicians whenever attending to duties in the capital.

You never fully confide in him; the situation is too precarious to place faith in anyone save for your brothers. But you trust him to have your back, providing whatever distractions you need to conceal your frequent visits back home.

He never explicitly gave you his blessing, but somewhere between the lessons on strategy, the hours spent training you how to overcome your muscle spasms to hold a firearm steady, and the weeks of rigorous analysis of dozens of philosophers and politicians- You know your mentor is unwavering in his loyalty.

You hold fast to the latest letter from your brothers; an unexpected ally wants to meet with you, a northerner who is weary of the empire's hegemony. You have hope; he once helped a rebellious farmer from a distant shore earn his freedom; perhaps he could do the same for you.

You only have your hope, an ancient rifle, and the knowledge that your brothers are both depending on you.

As the eldest, it is your duty to protect them. To free them. To give them the best life possible.

You know the storm ahead will be devastating.

You know you are facing a foe far more fearsome than any you've faced upon the sea.

But you are determined. You are resilient. You will persevere. You are your grandfather's legacy. L'Italia risorgerà di nuovo.

*

[information for translations and historical context available here]

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

The upcoming Iran War is basically just a response to the ongoing Iraq War, to maintain an American presence in the Middle Eat.

The Iraq War was a continuation of the Persian Gulf War, Operations Desert Storm and Desert Shield, which were started by father and son.

The Gulf War was just another proxy war of the Cold War, the end of one era, the start of another

The Cold War was born out of World War II, which itself was born out of World War I

World War I was a direct consequence of the Austro-Prussian and Franco-Prussian Wars of the 1860s and 70s, which established Germany as a world superpower and set the Austrian Empire up for dissolution

In the Austro-Prussian War, General Helmut von Moltke the elder based some of his strategies on the Union victory of the American Civil War; they were both industrial wars of attrition, whichever side could rally the troops and set up supply lines faster would win.

The American Civil War was an ideological war about slavery, and has its origins in the various legislative compromises of the first half of the 19th century (Kansas-Nebraska, Dredd Scott, the Missouri Compromise).  Ultimately though, this war is largely a  result of the American Revolution some 80 years earlier.

The American Revolution was a response to the Seven Years’ War; Britain nearly went bankrupt defending its colonies in the war, and started taxing them after the fact to pay for it.

The Seven Years’ War was just another example of the rivalry between Britain and France over who was the dominant power in Europe.

The British-French rivalry can be traced as far back as the Norman Conquest of 1066, when the Normans (French) took over the island

The island of Great Britain was supposedly discovered and named after the legendary Brutus of Troy, son of Aeneas, whose descendants Romulus and Remus would later found Rome.

Aeneas led the defeated Trojans to a new homeland after the Greeks lay siege to their city at the end of the Trojan War in around 1200 BC

The Trojan War was fought between Achaea (Greece) and Ilium (Troy); the Achaeans were part of the Mycenaean Civilization, which represented the end of the Bronze Age and the start of the Iron Age, as well as the birth of what we today recognize as true Ancient Greece.

The Mycenaeans came from the Minoans on Crete, the first advanced civilization in Europe.

Civilization itself in this region came from Mesopotamia, the Land Between the Rivers, in the Fertile Crescent, which owes its existence to the Neolithic/Agricultural Revolutions some 12,000 years ago

Before that, hunter-gatherer societies roamed the steppes of Eurasia, having spent thousands of years migrating northward out of their ancestral homes in Africa 200,000 years ago

Ultimately, hominids flourished because mammals rose up as the dominant clade following the Cretaceous-Paleogene Extinction 66 million years ago, which killed the dinosaurs

Dinosaurs reigned for hundreds of millions of years, but all life came from the sea; the tiktaalik was the first lobe-finned fish to take the monumentous step onto land 375 million years ago, which could only happen because fish themselves appeared 530 million years ago, which wouldn’t exist without the evolution of eukaryotes 2.7 billion years ago, which wouldn’t exist if the first prokaryotes hadn’t sprung from the primordial soup some 4.3 billion years ago, which could only have happened after the oceans formed 4.4 billion years ago, because the planet formed 4.5 billion years ago, which only happened because the sun formed 4.6 billion years ago, which when you think about it was a direct result of the Big Bang 13.8 billion years ago

“The story so far: In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” -Douglas Adams

[useleshistory]

Useless Fact #24

In 1866, during the Austro-Prussian War, Prince Johann II of Liechtenstein sent 80 soldiers to defend the Liechtenstein/Austrian border against the Italians. At the end of the war, 81 men came back.

[bantarleton]

The Battery of the Dead by Vaclav Sochor, depicting the Austrian rout at the battle of Königgrätz.

[cuirassier]

Austrian infantry during the Austro-Prussian war, 1866, by Rudolf von Ottenfeld