July 22, 1872.
London.
British Prime Minister Gladstone had been feeling quite pleased with himself lately. Every matter was advancing smoothly. Last year, he had overseen Britain's National Education Reform, establishing government-funded, nonsectarian primary schools to raise workers' educational standards and support industrialists in competing on the international market.
That same year, he had implemented the Civil Service Reform, creating an inexpensive government that could both improve administrative efficiency and save money, allowing more funds to be used for economic development. This year, he had also completed reforms to the British Army, adapting it to a short-term military service system.
Coupled with the improving international situation, with mortal enemy France dragged into the mud by Prussia, the Great British Empire was not merely doing well—its prospects were bright across the board.
Just then, his secretary entered and ruined Gladstone's good mood. "Prime Minister, this is an urgent letter from the Cape Colony!"
"Cape Town? What urgent matter could they possibly have?" Gladstone asked in confusion.
"Uh, Prime Minister, perhaps you should read the contents of the letter before reaching a conclusion," the secretary replied.
Thus, Gladstone read it with skepticism. He simply could not imagine what emergency Cape Town could have encountered. As an important component of the Great British Empire's colonies, there should have been no one blind enough to provoke it. After all, France was no longer qualified to contend with Britain for hegemony. Although Germany had become the overlord of continental Europe, its navy was a bathtub fleet that brought sorrow to those who heard of it and tears to those who listened, posing not the slightest threat to Britain. Then there were the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Tsarist Russia, two giants with feet of clay, hardly worth mentioning.
After excluding the great powers, the only nation that