Chapter 39: 1835
The aftermath of Emperor Franz II’s passing continued to ripple outward, leaving the smaller states that had previously been on friendly terms with Austria feeling as wilted as frost-bitten eggplants. Many of these state governments lost confidence in Austria, especially after their ambassadors met with the new Emperor and his chief advisor and reached the same conclusion: Emperor Ferdinand I was a kind man, but he was likely incapable of steering this vast empire, and the chief advisor, Mr. Karl von Schrut, was an utter fool.
The new Emperor and his empire would face constant challenges and pressures in the days to come. "If we stand with Austria," they reasoned, "we will have to face these challenges and pressures alongside them, which does not serve our national interests."
Austria had completed 20% of its 1,400-kilometer railway construction plan; the line between Vienna and Moravia was finished, and work had begun on the monumental Semmering Railway. The cost of the Semmering project was expected to be more than triple that of a standard railway, but its significance was profound, not only strengthening the connection between the coastal regions and Vienna but also linking to Northern Italy, thereby revitalizing the entire strategic landscape.
Meanwhile, the Prussians had frantically built two hundred kilometers of track, though not on their own soil. Their new economic advisor had proposed a new railway standard for the member states of the German Customs Union. This gauge was different from the Austrian standard; being wider meant it could carry more cargo. The true objective of Friedrich List was to help Prussia confine Austrian influence to Southern Germany. Honestly, Franz admired this economist from the bottom of his heart for coming up with such a way to squeeze Austria out.
In truth, Austria had ways to counter this, such as changing their gauge or forcibly requiring members of the German Customs Union to build according to Austrian standards. However, either choice would damage Austria’s reputation within the Customs Union. More importantly, it required a stable and powerful government. The Regency Council had severely crippled the efficiency of the Austrian government, and even Count Kolowrat and Prince Metternich failed to grasp the sinister intentions of Friedrich List. This was hardly surprising, as both men had very limited understanding of railways. By the time Franz noticed the situation, the outcome was essentially set, and remedial efforts would be of little consequence. Yet, List’s strategy provided Franz with a glimpse of a new possibility for Austria’s future. At this time, Britain had already completed over 1,000 kilometers of track, and France had nearly 300 kilometers.
In Russia, an Austrian engineer obsessed with railways, Franz Gerstner, wrote a letter to Nicholas I. He described a grand plan to build a railway connecting St. Petersburg and Kazan to strengthen the Tsar’s control over Western Siberia. This railway, spanning over 1,000 kilometers, was an incredible plan for the time. It piqued the keen interest of Tsar Nicholas I, who saw it as a gift from heaven. The Tsar’s vision was even bolder: he wanted to use railways to connect the entire Great Slavic Empire, from Constantinople to St. Petersburg, Kazan, Yakutsk, and even Alaska.
To realize his grand ideal, Nicholas I established a Railway Commission. Naturally, it met with fierce opposition from his ministers. The nobility disagreed with the Emperor and publicly opposed the construction of any railways within the country. The most vocal opponent was the Minister of Finance, Count Kankrin, who stated in a report to the Tsar that the Ministry of Finance had not a single penny to spare for railways. Russian experts also jumped in to support Count Kankrin, arguing that the cargo capacity of a train was less than that of three hundred horses, and that the Russian Empire, possessing five million mules and horses, could handle any situation. Furthermore, they claimed Russia lacked coal, and driving trains would force the cutting down of forests, leaving commoners without wood for fuel. Russia also faced a severe shortage of pig iron; building such a long railway would require importing vast amounts from abroad, which would plunge the domestic metallurgical industry into a "winter" of stagnation. The Tsar’s most trusted subordinate, Duke Lube, even suggested this was likely an Austrian conspiracy to weaken Russia’s national strength and gain an advantage in the partitioning of the Ottoman Empire. In the end, Nicholas I was forced to abandon his grand blueprint, though he did not lose heart. Russia remained without railways.
In the span of a year, the Americans built more railways—400 kilometers—than the total length of France’s tracks at the time. Due to cotton production exceeding expectations, prices fell. However, both Britain and America enjoyed a super-harvest of wheat, leading farmers who had suffered losses to switch to cotton. While the price of cotton dropped, it remained popular enough to at least avoid losses.
That year, the income from the United States government’s land sales was enough to pay off its debts, and a large fiscal surplus was projected for the following year. Saxony purchased another 500 steam looms from Austria. Austria’s inclusion and the establishment of the German Customs Union had nearly doubled Saxony’s fiscal revenue. This was not only because Saxony was the textile hub of Germany, but also because it acted as the largest middleman in the Customs Union. Friction between Prussia and Austria persisted, but Saxony, sandwiched between them, became the greatest beneficiary. After all, merchants would not turn their backs on money; the friction between the two powers could not stop their merchants from doing business.
Although Austria’s machinery manufacturing sector received many orders, it remained in a stagnant state, primarily due to competition from the British, who had begun allowing the export of machinery. Britain’s machinery industry had started much earlier than Austria’s, and its craftsmanship was naturally far superior. Had it not been for the protection of the German Customs Union—and the fact that Hanover refused to join it—Austria’s machinery industry would have continued to drift toward agricultural technology, just as it had in history.
Due to internal instability, Austria increased its military spending but reduced the size of its army to 440,000. France, out of security concerns, added 20,000 soldiers and gendarmes, along with several native regiments, bringing its total force to 530,000. Prussia remained at 200,000, and Russia, having launched a war against domestic nomads, maintained its strength at 600,000. That year, both France and Austria began updating their equipment with more reliable new percussion-lock muzzle-loading rifles. France developed a new type of field artillery—a lighter, more accurate 4-pounder. Austria, meanwhile, developed what would become historically known as a "suicide weapon": a cannon with range and power far exceeding its contemporaries of the same caliber. However, due to poor casting techniques and inferior materials, the gun had a 20% chance of exploding—even more thrilling than the Russian Roulette of later generations.
The Austrian Navy welcomed its fourth Admiral in a decade, a man who was not a career soldier but a merchant managing inland river shipping—Valus Taffe. Austria’s fiscal revenue reached 158 million florins, higher than the 132 million florins recorded in the same period in history.