If the Glorious Revolution had overshadowed the prehistory of dynastic union, then the Treaty of Utrecht haunted its early years. Concluded in 1713, a year before the Hanoverian succession, Britain's separate peace with Louis XIV represented a victory for the proponents of maritime policy. In advance of the treaty, the tory ministry of Robert Harley emphasized the imperial conflict at the expense of its European equivalent. And at Utrecht itself, Britain acquired Nova Scotia and the right to supply the Spanish empire with slaves. While the treaty also left Britain with European possessions in Minorca and Gibraltar, these were important naval bases which could be reconciled with maritime strategy. Nevertheless, they were leftovers of an earlier, more singularly European policy. The same was true of Hanover. At Utrecht, the British government procured French recognition of Hanover's electoral status and its ruling dynasty's right to rule in London. Here the Protestant succession trumped the government's maritime inclinations, leaving its winnings with a more European character than they would have had otherwise. Still, Utrecht offended Georg Ludwig. It abandoned the Holy Roman Empire, and its ruler's claims to the Spanish succession. And notwithstanding its language to the contrary, the treaty seemed to imperil the balance of power – which seemed to embody the Imperial ethic on a European scale. Rather than reinforcing Hanoverian ambivalence about the British succession, Utrecht bolstered arguments for it – particularly that which relied upon the balance of power. Hanoverians saw that Britain's supposed maintenance of the balance of power was not inevitable, but dependent upon the will of its ruler. They became increasingly resigned to the loss of their ruler.

Just as support for dynastic union derived from support for the Protestant succession, the opposition to both correlated highly. Thus it was that Jacobites were the foremost opponents of dynastic union during its early years. They feared Hanoverian ascendancy over Britain, but were initially uncertain about its character. Given the prominence of Anglican theologians in the ranks of British Jacobitism, it is unsurprising that scrutiny initially focused upon religion. Yet as in so many other instances, the Catholic pretender soon cut the ground out from under his nonjuring supporters.