The Most Honourable Gwilim Pedid “the Younger” was Tosaig of Britain from 1776 to 1793 and from 1797 to his assassination in 1811. Always considering himself an “Independent Reformist”, history has marked him out as one of the early Conservatives despite his disassociation with the old Loyalist camp. Always considered one of the “Bright Young Things” in the Senate, he entered it via a writ of acceleration applying to his father’s hereditary seat of Cathwell in 1774. Even for a hereditary Senator, he was considered young (14!) and many made fun of the “school-boy Senator”. Making distinction via his eloquent speeches attacking the King’s favourite who was by then enjoying government, he ended up getting the post of Tosaig at the age of 16 by an increasingly irked King who decided to give him the position to test the “over-confident brat”.
Defying those that marked him down for inevitable defeat, he showed everyone why he was a “Bright Young Thing”, for he was intelligent beyond his age. Forming a cabinet considered young for its time [the so-called “Juvenile Ministry”], his command over it was clear, and by 1777, it was clear that Pedid was comfortable as Tosaig, so comfortable that even the King begrudgingly let him stay. He oversaw colonial reform, the expansion of the “Indian seats” from two to four, and even in 1786 did the memorable act of voting to abolish his own seat in the first Grand Reform Act that consolidated the hereditary seats. His opposition amended a Pedid-supported bill to include Cathwell, sure that this would lead Pedid to sink it, but he voted for it, declaring that “unlike certain people in this Senate, I put principle above power”.
Returning to the Senate via a by-election in Castreleon University, he successfully fought off rivals’ attempts at seizing power in the months he was absent, and once he returned, his cabinet was once more cowed into obedience. The opposition seethed, but a foreign crisis would suck up Pedid’s time as Tosaig. The American colonies were more or less unsatisfied with the various European powers. While England gave its colonies limited self-government but no seats in Parliament, Britain gave them direct representation in the Senate, but very little self-government. The sentiment of many a colonist was that they deserved both self-government and representation, and so led to the Crisis of 1787 in which widespread protests, both violent and non-violent, happened. Pedid struggled to convince the very centralist King to approve of local government reforms, even if he could get the Senate to support it. In 1789, Pedid announced his resignation as Tosaig, symbolically throwing a hat on to the Senate floor to display his displeasure with the situation.
Luckily enough for Pedid, since his ascension to power his most formidable rivals either died or retired, and the French Revolution, by then a brewing crisis threatening to overflow, led the King to announce he would refuse to accept Pedid’s resignation. Some words were exchanged in private, and the King finally gave his consent to local government reform, which led to the colonies calming down. That year, a successful Pedid formed his fourth cabinet [the “Juvenile Ministry” was followed by the “Purple Ministry” so-called by its all-noble composition, and then the “Ministry of Robes”, referring to the Finance Minister being an imam, an unusual decision], the “Ministry of All the Talents”, a title that Pedid came up with as it took from all sides of the Senate. It was a crisis ministry designed to tackle the French Revolution and after-effects of the Crisis of 1787.
In 1792, France exiled its King, and Pedid called on the Senate to offer him refuge. This displeased some conservative religious figures who remembered very well the persecution of the Faransi at the hands of the French King, and even the imam Finance Minister resigned in protest. The King, always a firm religious figure, was outraged at the suggestion. While France’s revolution was of course concerning, it does not mean that the Faransi can just be forgotten. Pedid was dismissed in the early days of 1793 in favour of his now-ex Finance Minister. Pedid returned to the backbenches, saying in his traditionally dramatic tone “My time will return!”.
By 1797, the situation in France was taking a turn for the worst. The rise of Axel Faucher as the “Chairman of the Council of Committees” of the Republic of France meant that the revolution was turning hardline nationalist and rhetoric was turned upon “reclaiming Armorica”. The Tosaig was barely in control of his cabinet, let alone the country, and once “riots” by Armorican Christians happened, Faucher announced that the “liberation” of Armorica would happen. The King once again knew only one man could save Britain, and called on Pedid to return as Tosaig. This Pedid did. Entering the Senate once more as its master, he walked in with a jaunty step. Forming his fifth cabinet, the third Ministry of All the Talents [Britain would, by 2040, have over ten of those so-called “Ministries of All the Talents”], he got the Senate to declare war on France with a rousing cry, and even in an ironic twist, directly invoked the Faransi and their historic plight.
Pedid did not enter war naively, he knew Britain had extensive allies, ones he built ties with in his last time as Tosaig, and he pulled in those connections to form the First Coalition. He was familiar with the English Prime Minister John Pratt, Earl of Camden, and over an extensive supply of tea, convinced England to honour the age-old “Historic Agreement” by justifying the war as that of self-defence. The Dutch Queen was also eager to honour Pedid’s alliance that was formed in 1791, as was the King in Prussia and the Holy Roman Emperor. The First Coalition would break apart in 1804 as the Netherlands were lost (reformed by Faucher as the Batavian Province of his “United European State”) and Prussia declared neutrality, both of which irked Pedid, but did not get him to give in. “If one Coalition will not suffice, perhaps another will”, he declared. Britain did not call upon its oldest ally for a good reason, they were having an internal crisis in 1797. By 1804, that was over.
The British and the Byzantines have a very odd alliance, the “Special Relationship”. Other allegiances may come and go, but this is the one that has persisted for millennia. In 1804, Pedid summoned the Byzantine ambassador and in another of his dramatic speeches declared “We saved Constantinople from the Turk, will you save Castreleon from the Frank?”. The Emperor, upon being told of Pedid calling on the alliance, agreed and sent troops north to bolster the Austrian troops and push France backwards. Pedid also reminded Granada and Sicily of the Faransi plight, and even in a courageous move tried to persuade the Ottomans to join the same side as the Byzantines by invoking it again. This the Sultan received with scorn, declaring that “You attack Turks constantly for the defence of Christians, and you dare call on us for aid to fellow Muslims?”.
The Russians also declared they were in, even without Pedid requesting their aid. The Second Coalition would last until 1813, and oversee final victory over Faucherism. The Dutch, once their kingdom was liberated from Faucherist rule, declared they were once more rejoining the coalition against Faucher, an unsurprising move. Prussia opportunistically jumped back in the war once France started to falter, a move Pedid described as “that of a schoolyard bully more than a nation”. By 1811, the war was clearly on the Coalition’s side as Faucher’s allies all abandoned it and humiliating defeats were handed to it repeatedly. Faucher had to commit purges to maintain his increasingly-dictatorial hold on power. However, Pedid would not live to see his final triumph.
A mentally-ill man who believed sincerely that Pedid was deeply controlled by the Shayatin and thus corrupting Britain, a belief he acquired since the 1792 clash with the religious establishment Pedid had over the Faransi and the French King, decided that 1811 was the opportune time to make his move to “save” Britain from Pedid. Pedid was in his favourite tea-shop, conversing with a long-time political partner of his and his newest Finance Minister [Pedid was known for going through those like other people go through clean shirts] when a man rushed up to him and shot him through the lung, declaring “Glory to Britain!”. Pedid coughed up blood for hours before finally passing away in a bed, his last word being “Remember!”.
Pedid is widely reckoned as one of Britain’s greatest Tosaigs, and the dominant figure of his time.