'Kion la Imperiestro faru por ni?'
Wow, this is excellent. I love the topographic work; feels very National Geographic. Surprised the Republicans didn't try to rename Louisiana.
Cross-posting my entry:
The vision I had for this was of a royal family in exile in what they still claim to the embassy of their country, even though that country has since fallen to revolution. I wanted to drive home how far they had fallen by depicting literally a building and a room in another building on a nation-sized map. This proved quite ludicrously overambitious, even given my choice of tiny Neutral Moresnet as the host nation (which of course achieves independence under Wilhelm Molly in this timeline), and I had; I scaled back my plan to map literally all of Moresnet on a street level using Google Maps to just a few areas of interest.
Quick scenario writeup:
Broken and defeated in the Great European War of 1900, its colonial possessions divvied up between France and her ally Britain, the German Empire began to fall apart.
The canary in the coalmine - in this case, the zinc mine - was the little territory of Neutral Moresnet, long disputed between Belgium and Germany, which declared its independence as the Free Esperanto State in 1908, later adopting the name Amikejo, or Friendly Place.
The miners were prepared to fight for their freedom, arming themselves with a variety of antique and makeshift firearms, but no-one turned up. Belgium, no doubt, would have made efforts to annex the territory, had they also not been in the grip of the Congo Crisis (1907-09).
With ragtag armies of Republicans, spartacists and communards closing in on Berlin, the decision was made for the Kaiser and his family to see refuge - the word 'exile' was not used. But where? France or Britain would be humiliating. Nor did the Kaiser wish to place himself in the hands of the Belgian king. Switzerland was possible, but the route seemed perilous.
Neutral Moresnet, as the world would insist on calling it well into the 1950s, presented itself as a safe alternative; still (as the Empire considered it) under imperial condominium with the Belgians but not Belgian territory as such; its self-declared President, Dr Wilhelm Molly, was a wildcard, but the mayor of Kelmis, the enclave's only town, was a known royalist.
The arrival of the Imperial family in Kelmis was a comedy of errors - the telegram sent ahead with the expected time of arrival had not been received, and the 'Von Preußens' were quartered in a small, shabby hotel while more suitable accommodations were pondered. Eventually the bank was settled upon as the most regal-looking building in the town - the safe was taken from the bank and stored in the postmaster's office.
Another obstacle presented itself. His Imperial Majesty demanded that his quarters - including the office he had been given in Kelmis town hall - be treated as an embassy; clearly concerned about the prospect of being subject to the rapidly expanding body of novel laws pumped out by the Free State. This proved a sticking point with Dr Molly, who was loathe to cede any part of Moresnet soil back to the Empire, but a considerable injection of funds into his Esperantist project (in fact, most of the Imperial family's remaining private capital) greased the wheels.
From his 'embassy' in Neutral Moresnet the Emperor received telegrams advising him of the shrinking extent of his realm - the Republicans consolidated their control over Berlin and began the long process of clamping down on the anarchist communes and Bolsvik Räterepubliks that had sprung up. Soon the messages from loyalist forces ceased and it became clear that the rooms the Emperor occupied were now the last vestiges of the German Empire.
Significant debate arose in Moresnet as to whether the Emperor should now be handed over to the Republicans - such a measure, it was thought, could guarantee the enclave's continued independence. Ultimately the decision was made for them - a telegram was received advising them that the German Republic considered former Emperor Wilhelm II to be in exile, and that if he returned to Germany he would face an automatic death sentence.
As little Moresnet prospered - establishing the University of Esperanto in 1930 and further developing its reputation as the 'Monte Carlo of the North' through its casinos and hotels (the latter a great deal swankier now), the sad remnants of the German Empire persisted as a tourist attraction, a gathering point for the growing body of disenfranchised European royalty, and on occasion a meeting place for adjudicating territorial disputes between countries who still valued the opinion of someone who called himself Emperor; Greece and Zapatoslavia, Bolivia and Chile.
And while the manservants and maidservants had a job for life - and for their children too - the feeling had long become that they were serving a dead end; that the Republic was now firmly here to stay, despite the Imperial family's yearly prophesy of its imminent downfall. And in the slightly musty rooms, containing all the trappings of the Holy Roman Empire that had been saved from Revolution, they began to whisper 'What has the Emperor ever done for us?'.
Click to zoom in: