The Negotiations: The "Kindly" Inquisitors' "Generosity" (Summer 1669)
...João had presented the portfolio. The Council members, eyes wide, were poring over the damning ledgers, the coded letters, the irrefutable evidence of the Inquisition's deep-seated corruption and its venal dealings with foreign powers. The room hummed with disbelief and dawning realization.
Finally, the Chancellor, his face a mask of practiced neutrality that barely concealed his shock, broke the silence. "Marquis" he intoned, his gaze piercing, "this... 'proof of treachery.' It is quite extraordinary. I must, however, inquire: how precisely did you come into possession of such a meticulous accounting of the Holy Office's private dealings? The Inquisition, as we understand it, is not typically known for its... transparency."
João leaned back slightly in his chair, a slow, almost lazy smile spreading across his lips – a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, which held a glint of steel. He picked up one of the documents, tapping it thoughtfully.
"My Lords," he began, his voice a smooth, purring drawl, laced with a very pointed irony. "You know, as a Marquis, and an honest Catholic, when I encountered certain... irregularities, certain... anomalies... in the Holy Office's dealings, I simply felt it was my duty to... 'ask' .... them for an explanation. To clarify matters, you understand. As an honest Catholic, I seeks undertsanding."
He paused, letting the word "ask" hang in the air, weighting with unspoken implications.
The Swedes, knowing João's reputation, felt the subtle chill of the unspoken.
"And I must confess," João continued, his tone turning almost mockingly gracious, "these particular inquisitors, once approached, proved to be remarkably cooperative. Indeed, they 'obliged' with an astonishing degree of enthusiasm. They even, in their boundless generosity, drafted a meticulous guide for us, lest we get lost in their various rooms of "..." ahem, 'contributions' and 'donations' and other such fascinating records rooms. Some people simply asks, and others provide."
He held up a document with an almost innocent shrug.
"It seems some inquisitors, when gently 'asked' by an honest Catholic with certain... persuasive capabilities, may, by necessity, become far more honest in their dealings. The experience, I hope, was illuminating for them. Though I cannot speak for their subsequent comfort."
A profound silence descended, heavier than before.
The Swedish Councilors exchanged glances.
Some fought to suppress a flicker of a smile, others simply held João's gaze, a newfound, chilling respect dawning in their eyes.
The casual brutality implied by "asked" and the subsequent "cooperation" of the feared Inquisitors spoke volumes.
These were not mere exiles; these were men who broke institutions, not just fled them. The implications of such ruthlessness, directed at the core of their own ecclesiastical power structure, were deeply unsettling and utterly impressive to a warrior-minded nation.
The Chancellor, regaining his composure, cleared his throat, steering the conversation back to more tangible matters.
"Marquis" he began, his tone now devoid of any pretense of gentle probing, acknowledging the raw power in the room, "the depth of your mean's... ingenuity... is evident enough. Let us turn now to the specifics of this alliance. You speak of an 'autonomous domain.' We envision a grant of territory around the proposed site in Blekinge. What precisely does 'autonomy' entail for you and your firend's operations within Swedish lands?"
João, sensing the shift in their perception, met the directness with his own.
"It entails direct governance within the confines of the established base – control over local administration, security, and for justice,wellportuguese wil abide by swedish justice of course, I hope for some leniancy due to different regulations for all my crew members, and those seeking refuge within this domain. Swedish law, of course, would prevail for matters involving Swedish subjects outside the base, or for inter-domain disputes that cannot be settled internally. Taxation, as discussed, would be a pre-agreed share of the considerable revenues generated by the enterprises wewill launch, ifany noble house or merchant wnat topartake in the textile ventures, locals , or some land are sufficient too obtain shares of the enterprise, transparently accounted for, rather than unpredictable levies.
There is something in those textile enterprises that we putinmotion, as you may know begore, the textile was not really flourishing in portuigal, bso idecided toallaocate a part of the shares toall workers,asa whole, they distriute among them after that, inportugal i put it at 20 %of the shares of thecompany. Itwasnew, i didnt thought it woudlbe so ..lucrative, but this is proably because they have aminimal wage allyear round,while the dividends complete the theirpayments, they work harder, and ileanrnedthatbefore theportuguese crown delclared it a monopolu, imena themachines, thta i was notinterested to anuting other than buy, well i wantedot tostay portugeuse,and gave them 10 % of the shares, of the company, whilestiol payoing them themachines, but the still exported it to england and france, so they hoy cut off fromthose 10 %; well all that to say that enflishwho bought them, just like the french, gottyheir machines destroyed by the sheer capacity toproduce much more fabric, than theircompetiotors, and so the competitors destroyed them. I think it waswortwhile to partakethose 20 % shares to the weavers and tailors"
The Swedish Council's Reaction: Revolution at What Cost? (Summer 1669)
A weighty silence descended upon the chamber as João concluded his extraordinary exposition. He had laid bare not just a business plan, but a vision of industry and labor that was, with theiur customs inmind, nothing short of revolutionary.
The Councilors, accustomed to strict social hierarchies and state-controlled monopolies, exchanged wide-eyed glances, trying to reconcile the glittering promise of wealth with the utterly "alien" methods described.
Count Erik Oxenstierna, the Chancellor, his usual composure struggling to contain a visible mix of fascination and profound unease, was the first to speak. He steepled his fingers, his gaze fixed intently on João.
"Marquis" Oxenstierna began, his voice slow and deliberate, "your ingenuity, particularly in the structuring of these enterprises, is... undeniable. And the terms for our nobles and merchants to partake are, as you say, most agreeable. However, we must address directly this 'allocation of twenty percent of company shares to the workers, as a whole.' You call it 'new,' 'lucrative,' and attribute it to 'harder work' due to 'minimal wage and dividends.' Captain, this is, by the very laws of our realms, utterly unprecedented!
We manage our labor through established hierarchies, through guilds and apprenticeships, through the direct relationship of master to servant. How can we maintain order and discipline, how cab we even account for profit and loss, when the very weavers and tailors are shareholders?
Does this not risk blurring the essential lines of social order? What becomes of the authority of the foreman, the master, the proprietor, when every hand on the loom holds a piece of the company?"
Joa took a deep breath, it was easy to install that system in portugal,ke basically forced those first weavers and tailors to participate in the creation of the machine.... but there, it become another story:
" First, you have to consider that when the machine are at full swing basically the output of fabric is doubled, secondly, all installations are to be supervised y people the company trust. third, the weavers and tailors are not in chagrge of the sells, but the company is. Fourth considering the guild : they are becoming part of the company, the can double their porduction,wefinance themachines, and the contribute their expertise, it's for the guild who cooperate to decide what part they want to give to each of their members, it's not the company 's responsability but the shareholders, here the guild, like when you take your dividends from the voc, you decide more or less what you do with it ...; and before you ask: the 20 % is a share for all the guilds who subscribe, in my opinion, those kind of organizations, you obtain better result than traditional monopolies, for the crown supervision while augmenting the demand of the workers which stimulates other fields of economic activities: a simple example: some workers at the weave in Portugal thanked me, because now during la fiesta de los Reyes, they can offer some refined sugar to their children... they even favored the refined sugar from my refinery...."
Count Erik Oxenstierna, the Chancellor, his earlier unease slowly giving way to a calculating intrigue, steepled his fingers, his gaze now speculative.
"Marquis" Oxenstierna began, a thoughtful hum in his voice, "your clarification regarding the guilds as the collective shareholders is most... insightful. It provides a familiar framework for managing this novel system. So, the Crown would deal with the guild leadership, not individual laborers, for dividends and agreements. A clever solution indeed. But this doubling of output you speak of... and the immense profits that follow. Does this imply that all existing textile guilds within Sweden, particularly those within the vicinity of this new enterprise, would be expected, or indeed required, to 'subscribe' and become part of this model? Or would this be a matter of voluntary participation, leading to a direct competition between your new system and our traditional ones?" He paused, then added, "And what recourse would the Crown have if a guild, empowered by such wealth, were to become... less amenable to state authority?"
Joao got surpised b the question.. he explained briefly that in Portugal indeed all the gulds began to even ask to participate in the endeavor, without resistance so he never thought about that problem , then he gave a short answer
" Depends on the crown's will to applicate that system, and having more of those kinf or siply sell the machines to the guilds..."
Slight murmurs went through the chamber as the Marquis, João de Carrasca, delivered his concise, yet weighty, replies.
His answers were not flowery; they were direct solutions to their most fundamental concerns, delivered with the confidence of a man who had already proven these ideas in practice.
Count Erik Oxenstierna, the Chancellor, his usual composure struggling to contain a visible mix of fascination and lingering caution, considered the Marquis's response about creating "men of value" enticed him
"My Lord Marquis," Oxenstierna mused, leaning back slightly, "the notion that enhanced prosperity alone could cultivate such a reliable loyalty, transforming men into 'men of value' who then lead others, is... a compelling theory. A radical departure from traditional bonds of fealty, certainly, but one with undeniable allure. And your suggestion to establish these new workshops and integrate guilds specifically on Crown lands, the royal family's personal domain, is astute. It centralizes control, ensures the direct flow of profits to the monarchy, and potentially sidesteps immediate friction with our broader traditional landholders. It is a shrewd political calculation."
He paused, his gaze thoughtful. "This would effectively make the Crown itself the primary patron of this new industrial order. A powerful shift indeed."
Lord High Treasurer Klas Fleming, however, had eyes only for the direct revenue implications. His face, initially creased with financial concerns, now smoothed with dawning understanding and immense satisfaction.
Then, General Carl Gustaf Wrangel, his brow furrowed, reacted to the Marquis's seemingly abrupt, almost impertinent, counter-question about uniforms. He blinked, clearly taken aback, before a slow, dawning comprehension, and a grudging admiration, flickered in his eyes.
The Marquis wasn't just defending his proposal; he was challenging Sweden's entire military budget with a subtle, audacious stroke.
"Less costly uniforms?" Wrangel repeated, a hint of his earlier gruffness returning, but now laced with curiosity rather than indignation. He exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Fleming.
"My Lord Marquis, are you suggesting that the sheer profitability of this textile enterprise, once established and properly secured, could offset the very considerable costs of its protection? That the wealth generated would be so immense, it would free up resources elsewhere in our national budget? That is... a bold claim, Marquis. If your enterprise can indeed bolster the Crown's treasury to such an extent that it directly or indirectly alleviates the burden of our military expenditures, then the commitment to protect it becomes not merely a necessity, but an investment with an unprecedented return. It would indeed justify considerable resources to ensure these machines do not suffer the fate of those in France and England."
The Council was now fully engaged, seeing the intricate web of benefits that the Marquis was weaving. His answers, far from being just words, were offering solutions to long-standing dilemmas of state finance, social control, and industrial power. They were on the cusp of an agreement, their remaining questions likely focusing on the minutiae of the treaty, the exact figures, and the concrete guarantees for this transformative, yet undeniably high-stakes, partnership.
"My Lords," the Marquis concluded, his voice firm but with a knowing edge, "I must emphasize one final point that is often overlooked in the pursuit of great wealth and power: patience is of the essence. It took our Portuguese textile company five years to achieve the results I have described – the sheer output, the immense profitability, the economic ripple effects. This is not an overnight transformation. It requires consistent effort, dedicated investment, and the steadfast support of the Crown."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep over the faces of the Council, connecting his industrial success back to his legendary military triumphs. "And, as you well know, strategic flexibility is just as vital. One must be prepared to adapt. Just as when I initially targeted Jakarta directly for our naval campaign, before assessing the situation and swiftly shifting our strategy to crush the VOC's fleet near Colombo instead. That ability to change course when circumstances demand it, to pivot to where the true advantage lies, is what ultimately secures victory, whether on the battlefield or in the marketplace."
Another councilor, a grizzled general, leaned forward. "And the fleet? You speak of it as a 'dissuasion force,' ready to act in Sweden's defense. What is the extent of this commitment? Should Sweden be drawn into a conflict, say, with Denmark, or facing the coming storm of the Spanish Succession – what can we expect?"
"Expect a realible and potent ally, My Lord General," João replied, his voice firm. "The fleet, fully maintained and provisioned by thecoonsortium treasury, stands ready to defend Swedish sovereignty.
Its mobilization would be swift, its capabilities, as you now understand, considerable. It would operate under my direct command, but in full strategic coordination with the Swedish Royal Navy. Some people compared our little group of 11 to a mini VOC sometimes, with more diversity. our horizon brazil company began with only 200k cruzados and nothing more than that in money investment."
The questions continued, delving into timelines for the Karlskrona construction, the precise nature of the "technological transfer" (carefully balanced to benefit Sweden without fully revealing the Marquis's deepest secrets,lie the boarding frigates design, and the ongoing project of naus new design), and the specific routes for the direct Indies trade.
Each answer from João was precise, confident, and underscored the immense value and independent capability his group brought.
Later, After the Negotiations Conclude...
The private council chambers had cleared. Only a few senior members of the Swedish Council remained, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. They poured over the proposed treaty, the ink barely dry on the initial drafts.
"By God," muttered the General, shaking his head. "To think such a man exists. To compel the very Inquisitors to deliver the instruments of their own destruction... I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen the man's eyes."
The Chancellor, gazing out of a tall window at the Stockholm harbor, slowly nodded. "Indeed. It brings to mind something I overheard from one of Colbert's own men, after his meetings with de Carrasca in France... a rumor, mind you, but one that gains considerable weight tonight."
He turned, his gaze distant, as if seeing not just the harbor, but the sprawling, powerful image of France itself.
"They say Louis XIV, after those encounters, was known to remark, 'You can become an enemy with all Europe, but never have him as an enemy.'" He paused, then added, almost to himself, "Tonight, I believe I understand precisely why that rumor circulates."
The other councilors exchanged glances, a shared realization winding the room.
They had just secured an unprecedented alliance, driven not just by gold, but by the sheer, terrifying force of a group's will and the reputation of his uncontainable instruments.
The warrior tradition of Sweden had just found its most formidable, and perhaps most dangerous, new partner.
______
The Quest for the Haven: A Symphony of Expertise
While Marquis João de Carrasca deftly pursued his strategic goals in the halls of Stockholm, the pulsating heart of his consortium was setting sail. From the very port of the Swedish capital, an impressive fleet—fifteen agile frigates and fifteen robust Indiamen—departed, not under the sole command of one man, but guided by a convergence of talents.
On board, Dom Luís meticulously scanned existing charts, noting every detail of the still-sparsely mapped coastlines. Beside him, Dom Diogo, the engineer, pored over plans for future docks and defenses, his mind already at work envisioning the transformation of rock into fortress. Dom Rui, the master navigator, his gaze fixed on compass and stars, plotted the safest course through the labyrinthine archipelago. Around them, other captains and experts, crewmen and surveyors, formed a living tapestry of intelligence and action.
Their mission was clear: to find a deep-water bay along the coasts of Blekinge, a place where their consortium could establish itself, far from the persistent threats of the Inquisition. They sought a haven that would not only be a refuge but also the cradle of a new industrial and maritime power.
Day after day, the fleet advanced with patient, precise methods. The lighter frigates ventured ahead, exploring every cove, every nook of the coast. Boats were launched, and teams went ashore, brandishing long, weighted poles, carefully measured wooden rods that they plunged into the water to check the depth of the seabed. Their voices chanted the numbers as the poles sank, or met sand, mud, or rock. The readings were meticulously noted, with Dom Luís transferring them onto new chart sketches, adjusting seabed contours, identifying safe passages, and marking dangerous shoals. Dom Diogo, meanwhile, was already visualizing the placement of dikes and basins, while Dom Rui ensured the precise positioning of each ship relative to coastal landmarks.
Each evening, the captains gathered aboard the flagship. Observations were shared, hypotheses debated, and sketches pooled. There was no rigid hierarchy in the analysis of facts, but a convergence of knowledge and experience. They collectively sought that rare pearl, the inlet that would offer protection, depth, and space for a future city-arsenal.
Finally, their efforts were rewarded. A vast, secret bay unveiled itself. Its waters, unexpectedly deep, its shores protected by a kind of natural micro-archipelago, and its obvious defensive potential made it the ideal site. The precise and detailed report was immediately dispatched to Stockholm, accompanied by newly drawn charts and scrupulously compiled depth readings.
It was based on these shared discoveries, the fruits of the ingenuity and synergy of this team of experts, that João, informed of every detail, could then endorse the decision. This place, this haven they had revealed to the world, would bear the name Karl's Harbour.