I Became A Hidden Powerhouse Of The British Empire [EN]: Chapter 328

< Turning Point >

The Civil War.

It was an internal conflict on a scale unprecedented in human history.

There were few, if any, historical examples of so many nations intervening in another country’s internal war, each vying for a piece of the action.

But no matter how much bloodshed occurred, they couldn’t extinguish the Union’s vast territory and seemingly endless manpower.

Even after nearly two years of relentless fighting, the balance remained precarious, and both sides were growing weary.

Spain had already withdrawn, unable to sustain the effort, while France and Prussia remained, ever opportunistic.

The losses were so staggering that they abandoned all pretense and even requested reinforcements from the British Empire, heading down a path where there would be no winners, only losers.

And in the summer of 1863…

Canada initiated its trump card: Operation Red Bait.

“The target is Montreal! Burn the ships in the Old Port!”

The plan was to destroy ships carrying supplies from the British Empire, setting them ablaze in a highly visible manner, and then frame the North for the act.

Simply put, the South aimed to create a justification for Britain to turn against the North.

Regardless of their claims of neutrality, if British ships were burned and their supplies sunk, Britain would have little choice but to join the war.

The South was already slightly ahead, and the British Empire’s entry would likely seal the Union’s fate.

However, there were reasons why this operation hadn’t been executed sooner.

Firstly, since it involved burning British ships, prior agreement with the British was essential.

Secondly, the North needed a plausible reason to send agents to Montreal to burn those ships.

If the North was decisively winning, such an act would make no sense.

Therefore, this operation could only be launched when the circumstances were right: with British consent and with meticulous preparation to fabricate convincing evidence.

“The rehearsal was flawless, right?”

“Of course. Haven’t we been preparing for this day?”

“Good. Remember, from this moment on, no Southern accents when we’re alone. We’re from Boston. Got it? We’re members of that ridiculous black liberation group, the NBA [National Brotherhood Association], in Boston, so don’t slip up.”

“Yes, sir!”
Drexler, a battle-hardened veteran who had faced death countless times, had arrived in Montreal two days prior, leading the South’s elite commando unit.

“Finally, there’s an end in sight to this endless war. Once the British Empire’s navy joins the fight, the Northern ports will be paralyzed.”

“But will the other countries believe it?”

“That’s why we’ve waited this long. As the war turned against them, the Northern militia, driven to desperation, began searching for someone to blame. It’s not far-fetched that they’d target Canada, which has been supplying weapons to the Confederate States.”

Turning Canada into an enemy was not a rational move, but desperation often breeds irrationality.

So, Drexler’s unit had invested considerable time in perfecting their disguises as these desperate radicals.

They had mastered the Northern accent to the point where no one would suspect them of being Southerners, and they had even created false identities and joined the NBA, ostensibly led by King James [likely a reference to a prominent figure in the black liberation movement, perhaps a play on words with the basketball player].

It’s common for people involved in human rights movements to be passionate, even radical, so it would be believable if they went on a destructive rampage.

“Okay, first, our assigned areas are warehouses 3, 7, and 11 in the Old Port, and the transport ships loading goods from those warehouses. They say these are just disguised transport ships, so let’s wreck them and set them ablaze to our hearts’ content.”

“Are the goods in the warehouses real?”

“They said that using fake goods might get them caught, so they’re using real ones. Anyway, these guys have made a fortune since the war started, so they won’t even notice a small loss.”

“When you put it that way, aren’t they despicable? Playing both sides, selling weapons to everyone.”

“But they say they’ll side with us in the end, so what can we do? Can you imagine the look on the Northerners’ faces when the British join the war? That’s enough for me.”

This war had created an unbridgeable chasm between the North and the South.

The North condemned the South as traitors who sold America to Europe to preserve slavery, and the South blamed the North for instigating the conflict, their resentment simmering.

“Okay, let’s burn down all these warehouses today! These burning warehouses will be a glimpse of the North’s future, so this war won’t last much longer!”

“Understood!”

“We’ll put our honed Northern accents to good use.”

“Good. Everyone, don’t forget. When you set the fire, witnesses will inevitably appear, so shout together: ‘Divine punishment on the cursed weapons that oppress slaves!'”

“Hehehe, that’s exactly what those self-righteous Northerners would say.”

In reality, security in the warehouse area was lax, a mere formality since an agreement had already been reached.

Still, unexpected variables could always arise.

Drexler, a veteran of countless battles, carefully positioned his troops in preparation.

He meticulously applied oil to the warehouses and placed oil drums in the ships.

Now, upon receiving the signal, the troops scattered throughout the area would simultaneously set the fires and shout the prearranged slogans.

He also carried the NBA membership card, ready to ‘accidentally’ drop it.

If the North quickly quelled the situation, they would only be punishing the black liberation group, which would cause domestic backlash, a win for the South.

If they delayed, the enraged British Empire would strike the North with full force, making this fire the sacred flame that illuminated the South’s path to victory.

“Okay, everyone, on the count of…”

콰아아앙!

화르르르르륵!

“Aaaagh! Fire!”

“The, the port! The port is on fire!!”

“The warehouse and the ships are on fire! Firefighters! Call the firefighters!”

What? He hadn’t even given the signal yet. Where did the fire suddenly come from?

“You stupid bastards! I haven’t even given the signal! Who set the fire early?!”

“N, no, Captain! It wasn’t us. Look over there!”

“That’s not our area?”

Drexler’s face paled as he saw a completely different area engulfed in flames, an area they had not received permission from the Canadian authorities to burn.

“What on earth is…”

Could it be that some group completely unrelated to them was committing arson at the same time?

“C, Captain, what do we do?”

He never imagined this would happen. What should he do?

The fire was so intense that people were already screaming and gathering around.

If they retreated now, nothing would be accomplished.

In fact, there was a high probability that the South would be blamed for this as a reckless act of terrorism.

He didn’t know what kind of lunatics had started this fire, but they were already out of options.

“Captain…”

“Damn it! There’s no choice! Just proceed with the ignition as planned! This fire was started by those northern bastards, so we’ll move according to our original plan!”

“Understood! Everyone, ignite!”

KWAH-ah-ah-ah!

Responding to Drexler’s signal, explosions echoed from all directions of the harbor, and flames soared once more, illuminating the port of Montreal as if the sun had risen again in the middle of the night.

Oh well, let’s just shout and see what happens.

“Divine punishment upon the cursed weapons that oppress slaves!”

“Stop exporting weapons for slavery! Canada out!”

“Canada and the Duke of Canada, who only pay lip service to the human rights of black people, should wake up!”

“Uwooooo! Long live the Federal Army!”

Loudly, so that as many people as possible can hear.

Noisily, to attract even more attention.

Damn it… Is it because the fire is bigger than expected? It’s burning really well, damn it.

Drexler and his men, with hearts full of concern for their homeland, shouted words condemning Canada with all their might and slipped away amidst the chaos.

However, in the midst of all the confusion, they never realized.

That among the flames raging in an area completely unrelated to them.

A Southern dialect condemning Canada was echoing loudly.

* * *

I was recently feeling acutely aware of the difficulties of integration.

The North-South war, where a perfectly good country is divided and fighting.

Germany, where people fought and bickered fiercely over who was better, even within the same category of ‘Germany’.

Wasn’t all of this happening because integration wasn’t working, and they were just cutting themselves off?

Even those who are from the same country or similar ethnic groups are fighting like that, so how much worse would it be elsewhere?

I was slowly starting the process of incorporating Canada not as a colony, but as one of the United Kingdoms, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought.

If you treat a place that is merely a colony as equal to you, who would feel good about it?

This isn’t about discrimination; it’s just something that anyone would naturally feel bad about.

Fortunately, the higher-ups agreed with my opinion that the colonial economy would inevitably come to an end in the distant future, so places with potential should be integrated with the mainland.

Many people think that Canada, at least, has strong ties to the mainland, so it doesn’t matter.

The problem is…

“Canada is not only filled with black people, but also Asian immigrants are pouring in. If Canada becomes a member of the mainland, they will also become citizens of our British Empire. I’m honestly a little worried about how this will affect the vote.”

“We have no choice but to instill the perception that embracing Canada is beneficial in some way.”

The reason I tried to twist the situation in this war to favor Canada was also because of this.

If Canada’s size becomes overwhelmingly large, the British Empire will have no choice but to seriously consider Canada’s treatment, whether they like it or not.

Canada is not just populous like India.

Thanks to the industrialization that has risen to a crazy level through this war, in just 10 more years, it will transform into a level that the British Empire cannot ignore, just like the northern part of the United States.

“In order for us to continue to hold the initiative in America, the assimilation of Canada into the mainland is essential. Simply leaving it as a colony will inevitably limit our ability to plan a Pacific strategy.”

“That’s also true. As Your Highness said, this war has become the perfect opportunity, so we should bring up this issue at the end of the war. Then, we can observe the atmosphere and make detailed adjustments. In that regard, the presence of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince will be a strong bridge connecting the British Empire and Canada.”

Wellesley’s gaze turned to Edward, who was listening to our conversation with complete concentration behind me.

I’ve given him the greatest possible lessons and actual talks during this war, so he’ll be able to play the final role well.

“That child will be able to do that much now. Anyway, the scenario is all prepared, so we should start preparing to bring down the curtain.”

“Your Highness! Your Highness! Urgent news has arrived from Montreal!”

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

Thanks to the fact that I told him to deliver the news as soon as it came from Canada, the servant hurriedly opened the door, gasped for breath, and bowed to me and Wellesley.

“I apologize for interrupting your conversation. Urgent news from Montreal…”

“It’s alright, tell me. Did something happen?”

“Yes. A large-scale arson has occurred in the port area, and many warehouses have been burned down, and even merchant ships have been completely destroyed.”

Uh-huh, I guess so. It’s all according to plan. The South said they would send the best elites, so they must have handled the job properly.

But I have to show a reaction that I’m hearing this for the first time, so I have to act with all my might.

“…No, how can a fire of that scale happen in the port? What on earth were the people in charge doing to manage it!”

“Judging from the fact that they poured oil and set fire to it, it seems to be an organized arson involving a large number of people.”

“Witnesses? Is there any evidence of the perpetrators?”

“Because the fire was so large, many people around heard the voices of those presumed to be the perpetrators. As a result of the investigation, it was said that they shouted slogans such as opposition to slavery, with a strong Northern accent…”

And publications or symbols used by James’ NBA members will be dropped around as evidence.

Everything as expected…

“And on the other side, people speaking in Southern dialects were shouting to punish the traitorous Canada. In addition, transport ships that were actually scheduled to transport goods to Cuba were burned, and some of the sailors who tried to put out the fire suffered severe burns.”

“…Hmm?”

Southern dialect? Sailors with severe burns?

What is this all about? Is Jefferson crazy? Why did he set fire to a place other than the one he was told to burn, and increase the scale of the damage?

Are these guys really idiots who can’t even pull off a simple conspiracy?

“Wait a minute. First, we need to understand the situation clearly. Mobilize all available personnel to thoroughly investigate how this happened and report all progress to me immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Compensate all the merchants who have suffered unfair property damage and the sailors who have been burned for all treatment costs. And don’t forget to offer words of comfort that those behind this will pay the price they deserve.”

“Yes, I will send a telegram immediately.”

I’m going crazy. What the hell did Jefferson do?

Wellesley, who was leisurely watching my stiffened expression, burst into laughter, almost falling backward, as the servant went out.

“Wow, Your Highness’s acting skills are always top-notch. Anyone would think you were really surprised.”

Uh… well, that’s not it… Damn it, right. Let’s not panic. My son is watching.

I was just bragging that I had written all the scenarios until just now, but if I say something different now, it’ll be too embarrassing.

“There’s also a saying that you have to deceive your allies to deceive the enemy. Was it plausible?”

“Are you kidding me? I almost fell for it myself. Hahaha!”

“As expected of my father! If it weren’t for the Prime Minister, I would have really thought that my father was embarrassed by an unexpected situation.”

I thought everything was going perfectly without any errors.

I’m going crazy, really.