The vast Kingdom of Bavaria had lasted only five days, thanks entirely to the German lands' advanced railway network. By then, the region's railways stretched for more than seven thousand kilometers, compared to just three thousand five hundred at the same point in real history.
As an aside, Britain and the United States had already surpassed ten thousand kilometers of railway each, while Austria ranked third with eight thousand.
Louis Philippe's ambitions had gone unrealized. France's railways now stretched only 2,100 kilometers, a little more than the 1,900 kilometers it had at the same point in real history.
Watching Bavaria fall had left the other German princes even more terrified, while greatly bolstering the nationalists' confidence.
In their panic, the various princes sent letters begging Austria and Prussia for help. But Prussia was suffering from nationalism just as badly.
Every faction was waving the banner of nationalism. The historical Animal Garden Assembly had drawn only a little over twenty thousand people, but this time nearly a hundred thousand attended—almost a third of Berlin's population.
Prussia's army, however, was still ferocious. Disregarding their numerical disadvantage, the soldiers opened fire on the crowd, only for their force of just over two thousand to be surrounded by a populace fifty times their number.
In the end, General Leopold von Gerlach, aide-de-camp to King William IV, and all the troops under his direct command were killed. Before long, the streets were lined with the bodies of Prussian soldiers.
The people did not choose to storm the palace, though, which let the head of the Prussian royal guard breathe a sigh of relief.
Yet the Rhineland was even more chaotic than Berlin. When the storm swept into the region, the Archbishop of Cologne promptly declared that the Rhineland would gain autonomy.
Marshal Karl von Hagen,