War of the Two Commonwealths

[benjamin]

Finally! The move's over, I've recovered from gallbladder surgery, and I have a new internet provider. AT&T cut us off two weeks early so I have been out of contact for a while (not counting the rare visits to Panera to snag some wireless access). On top of that unpacking and reshelfing my collection of books has taken a bit longer than I had hoped. But now I'm ready to dive back into this timeline. I hope to have an update by the end of the weekend.

To those who are reading this TL...thanks for the interest and patience.
Benjamin

 

[benjamin]

Along the Loyalhanna (Early August 1859)

Walking along the dusty dirt road that led from Latrobe to Ligonier was hot and dirty duty, but Lt. Wolf preferred it to combat. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his eyebrows proved only temporary barriers against the steady stream. Soon salty water was stinging his eyes and he was forced to wipe them clean with his handkerchief. As he surveyed the miserable mass of men who marched along with him, he sighed. It was fortunate that they had only a couple of miles left to go before they reached the small Pennsylvanian town that overlooked Loyalhanna Creek.

“Move your company forward Mr. Wolf.” Major Hawthorne said as he rode up from behind. He quickly brought his horse to a slow walk in order to match Wolf’s pace. “We’re getting close now and I believe a skirmish line would be prudent at this point. Take it easy and don’t get to far a field. The main column will be stopping soon for a short rest before continuing on at a slightly slower pace. General Hancock wants the men rested before we fall upon the Virginians.”

Yes, Sir.” Lt. Wolf replied with a bit of pride that he and his men had been selected to take the lead.

As Hawthorne wheeled his bay around to head back towards the center of the column he called out a last order. “And get your men some more water lieutenant. They look a bit thirsty!”

The Major’s horse kicked up a cloud of dirt as he galloped but Lt. Wolf paid it no mind. He was already busy barking orders to his men. Runners were sent to the wagon train to fetch water and the Sergeants of the regiment were put to the task of organizing the men. Minutes later the company had fallen out of the main column and reformed into a collection of lose clusters each numbering about ten men. As the runners returned with the topped off canteens the men each grabbed on before running off towards the front of the column. Wolf gave Lt. Shaw a broad grin as he ran past his friend. Since they had each been given command of a company within the York Volunteer Rifle Regiment a very friendly rivalry had arisen. Now that Wolf’s regiment had been given pride of place at the head of the column, he aimed to see that Shaw never heard the end of it.

An hour and a half later Lt. Wolf was no longer smiling. He sat in an uncomfortable crouch beneath the trunk of a large tree that had fallen over. Ripped up by the roots by some unseen fit of mother nature it made for a excellent hiding place from which observe the rear portions of the Virginian force that was besieging Ligonier. But it did not hide him from the flocks of mosquitoes and biting flies that buzzed around his head and together with the hill of ants that saw Wolf as an intruder in their little kingdom they made Wolf’s life miserable. Either way it didn’t really matter as he forced himself to remain still.

Just thirty feet away a group of Virginians sat around the smoldering remains of a cooking fire. Wolf could smell the tobacco as they smoked an assortment of cigars and pipes. They seemed totally relaxed as they played cards and threw dice. Wolf saw reason to smile in that revelation. As he watched the men from Virginia finish their mid-day meal a young private crawled up to him. The man’s effort to remain unseen and unheard made for an almost comical ordeal. Once within arms reach the man handed him a folded piece of paper. Lt. Wolf unfolded the paper and read. Hancock had approached as close as he dared and bade Wolf’s company to begin the attack at the most opportune time. Once gun fire was heard Hancock would bring the rest of his command forward to smash into the rear of the Virginian siege lines.

Wolf waited a few minutes to reply. Once the Virginians had begun to argue over the legitimacy of a certain die roll he turned to the private and spoke in a quick whisper.

“Tell the men to make ready. They are to fire only upon my lead.” He said. As the man turned to crawl off he grabbed his shoulder to regain his attention. “Tell them to make every shot count. The more Virginians who fall during the initial few volleys the better off we’ll have of it.”

The man nodded earnestly and then crawled away to pass the word around the company. Wolf gave him what guessed to be nearly thirty minutes before slowly bringing his rifle up. He checked to make sure the percussion cap was seated securely on the nipple and then he gently laid the barrel of the gun into a crook of dried roots. Carefully he sighted the weapon on a young Virginian. The man looked no older than Wolf. Barely a man, really. Jacob Wolf closed his eyes tightly and thought of his friend Harry Radcliffe. As he pictured him lying in the snow dying he gently squeezed the trigger of his Springfield.

Lt. Robert Shaw heard the first rifle report despite being nearly half a mile away. It took him just a few minutes to make his company ready to advance. Once formed up they moved at the double step down the dusty road. Behind him was the rest of the York Regiment and behind them the entirety of the Army of the Allegheny. It took them but a few minutes to come into sight of the Virginians. The men of the Old Dominion were trying desperately to come to grips with the rain of fire that still struck at them from the woods around the town. Upon seeing the advancing column of Pennsylvanians all organization within their ranks began to dissolve.

Shaw recognized the moment. He had seen it several times before as the Pennsylvanian lines wavered and broke, but this time it was the Virginians that wavered. Lt. Robert Gould Shaw was elated. He took a brief moment to look back at his men. They would follow him to the bitter end if it came to that. As he looked back he shouted.

“Fix bayonets and advance!” He shouted waving his sword over his head. “Come you men of York! Forward, forward on to victory!!”

As he shouted he broke into to a run. Behind him hundreds of men followed. The column of Pennsylvanians ran right into line of Virginians. Major Hawthorne who was observing the ordeal from slightly behind the rear of the York Regiment was marveled at the Napoleonic precision of the attack. Shortly thereafter the big men of the 13th Allegheny Rifle Regiment charged past. They ran into battle with time only for one ragged volley before turning their rifles around to be used as clubs. It did not take long for the entire western portion of the Virginian line to collapse. Fighting along the Loyalhanna was especially vicious as the Pennsylvanians forced their way across to the southwestern shore.

By nightfall though the battle was decided. Several hundred Virginians were prisoners were in captivity and nearly the same number was dead or wounded. The rest of them made good their escape southward despite an attempt at encircling them. The 13th Allegheny pursued them into the woods and darkness but by mourning Hancock recalled them back to the main body that remained at Fort Ligonier.

Benjamin

NOTES: A little late but finally its here.

I'm currently reading the book Border War: Fighting Over Slavery Before the Civil War by Stanley Harrold (University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill. 2010). It's interesting that when I first conceived this TL I delayed writing it because I felt to be a bit on the ASB side, but now having gotten into Border War and a few other books I've come to the realization that my scenario is nearly as plausible as OTL. The sectional tensions that arose from slavery constantly tore at the very fabric of the nation and the so called Compromise of 1850 with its draconian Fugitive Slave Law only exacerbated this tension.

 

[mjanes]

Awesome. Glad to have this timeline back.

 

[benjamin]

Awesome. Glad to have this timeline back.

Thanks mjanes. I'm going to try to keep it going for a long while and I have a lot of notes for it that need to be fleshed out. Eventually I plan to edit it and post the whole thing on the finished timelines thread, but that may be a long ways off. Maybe I'll expand t even more with a lot of graphics and make a pdf.

Benjamin

 

[benjamin]

One Mile to Bushy Run Station (August 5-6, 1859)

The woods throughout western Pennsylvania were a mixture of recent clear cuts, logged areas from the last decade or so which were now filled with brambles and saplings, and old growth stands consisting of towering trees with wide trunks and abundant wildlife. The virgin forests remained primarily along the high ridges of the Appalachian Mountains that ran through central Pennsylvania like a great rocky spine. Despite the efforts of man wild game of all sorts still roamed the less settled portions of the Keystone state. Gone were the once plentiful eastern variety of bison and beavers and otters were now scarce, but deer, elk, turkey, black bear and bobcats still survived. Even a few wolves and mountain lions still made their home in these regions despite the constant efforts of the local farmers.

West of the primary ranges that made up the Laurel Highlands the woods were far thinner. Primarily consisting of cleared farmland and recently timbered areas the region was dotted with small towns and small farms. Even so there was a smattering of wilderness here and there, usually in the form of a copse of trees left uncut for some unknown reason.

“Miles deep into Yankeeland and its amazing how similar the land is to northern Virginia” he muttered.

“What’s that you say, Colonel?” His staff officer asked.

“Nothing Captain. It was nothing.” Colonel Ashby Turner replied startled that he had spoken out loud with out even knowing he had done so. But despite a similar lay to the land there was an altogether different feel, as if the Mason-Dixon Line truly was some magically barrier that transported those foolish enough to cross it unto a strange and distant land. Gone were the large plantations and fields of tobacco and cotton. Gone were the slaves working in the field under the ever present eye of their overseer. Instead there were small farms growing wheat and corn and numerous other food crops. The people working the fields were all white and almost to a one they gave the passing Virginians cold hard looks that left no doubt in Ashby’s mind that would lift not a single finger to help him or his men. This wasn’t true of all Pennsylvanian’s though.

“No doubt we’re deep in it now. Pittsburgh can’t be too far off I reckon.” Captain Tucker replied. “Without a decent map I dare say I’m feeling a bit lost.”

Col. Turner nodded. Looking up he could see the last portions of a flock of passenger pigeons crossing over head. Just as he was about to speak a small heard of deer burst out of the thick brush to his column’s right. He waved down several of his men as they raised their rifles at the chance of fresh venison.

“Deer don’t break like that for nothing.” He said to the Captain in a hushed tone. “I’m guessing were just west of that town of Greensburg. Get me that Harper fellow.”

Captain Tucker turned his horse about and trotted back to the end of the column. It took him only a few minutes to return with Billy Harper. Harper and the nine men who rode with him had been hired as guides for the expedition into western Pennsylvania. They had a history of aiding slave catchers foraying into the North and showed no love for anything but money. Harper was a rail of a man with loose fitting haphazardly patched clothing and straw blonde hair that made him look every bit the part of a scarecrow. His tattered hat and ever present corncob pipe only added to the comical appearance of the man.

“Yeah, just west of Greensburg we are. My man Stevens tells me that we have control of the railroad just west of that town. No trains will be getting on through to Pittsburgh. But to our west the militia has erected a block house while yous was taking time coming north. Not too many men there yet but they aim to protect the roads into Pittsburgh.” Harper said as he chewed on the end of his pipe.

Turner mulled this over and then wiped his brow.

“How far away is this block house?” Turner asked.

“Bout two miles north west along the old Forbes Road which is now a major turnpike.” Harper replied. “Its sitting at old Bushy Run Station. Plans are to make it a new militia camp.”

Turner turned in his saddle and passed the word to Capt. Tucker. “Tell the men to make ready. I aim to take that block house and cut Pittsburgh off from the abolitionists holed up in Philadelphia and Harrisburg. We move out in a few minutes. And send word to Brigadier General Letcher requesting him to swing west to assist our advance. And so help me God if that man is still on his ass in Ligonier I will personally call that abolitionist loving bastard out.”

Capt. Tucker rode off to the east as the rest of the men fixed bayonets and checked their motley assortment of firearms. The march along the road towards the block house passed through a mixture of sparse woods and small farms along rolling hills. A mile out from the block house the 2,000 men of Turner’s column entered a small valley filled with a few clusters of trees and high corn stalks. Visibility along wither flank was extremely limited and Turner became nervous.

The first rifle crack startled Turner and his horse nearly bolted. Harper jumped in his saddle and the pipe fell from his lips. That shot was soon followed by a constant hail of fire emanating from the woods and crops around Turner’s command.

“Damn it all to Hell! Get some cover men!” Turner shouted just as his horse let out a horrible shriek and fell to the ground stone dead. Turner jumped clear as his gelding made a few final kicks.

He looked around and saw that his men were in a near state of panic. The level of gun fire alone led Col. Turner Ashby to believe that his command was vastly outnumbered. After several minutes of cowering behind the dead body of his horse Colonel Ashby finally pulled himself together.

“There ain’t many of them boys!” He lied as he stood waving his sword. “Let’s give them cold steel and show them what the men of the Old Dominion are made of!”

The first men to follow him as he charge up the gentle slope into the cornfield were those of his own Mountain Rangers. Behind them came the other regiments that made up the hastily thrown together collection of Virginian militia units that comprised the body of his command. Luckily for Ashby’s column the commander of one of his regiments had the foresight to stay behind to guard the wood line to prevent any Pennsylvanians from making like the deer and bounding out into the rear of his charging troops.

As the Virginians charged into the corn they let forth a series of screams and hoots that echoed along the valley. The Pennsylvania boys scattered and fled. Many of them left behind their guns as they ran and the Virginians followed after them. Soon they came into view of the large log block house that the locals were calling New Bushy Run Station. A row of large stone blocks circled the base of the small fort and a large pile of blocks made it clear that there was every intention to make this Bushy Run Station a more permanent fixture. Ashby called his men into a line in order to storm the block house but the report of two small artillery pieces caught his attention. The first canon ball passed over the heads of his men making an eerie whooosshiing noise while the second plowed into the ground throwing up a spray of dirt and rocks. Unfortunately for two men nearby the ball skipped on taking the leg off of one man and the foot off of the other.

Ashby could clearly hear the commander of the artillery call for canister and when the other three pieces of the battery rolled into view he decided to call of the attack. His column was in disarray and more Pennsylvanian militia men were coming up behind the artillery unit. Reluctantly Ashby ordered his men to withdraw out of easy artillery range as he contemplated his next move. Personal experience in Utah made him anxious to retain the initiative but without support from Letcher he feared being cut off and overwhelmed.

That night he camped ten miles south of Greensburg. The prisoners they had captured were stripped of their shoes, guns, gold and any thing else of value before being released. In the morning Capt. Tucker returned. News of Letcher’s defeat at Ligonier brought forth a torrent of cussing from Col. Ashby.

“God dammit!!” Col. Ashby fumed. “We had them! Just a few more men and that artillery Letcher wasted and we could have taken that house and put Pittsburgh in a sack.”

“Yes, Sir.” Capt. Tucker said in agreement even though he hadn’t been there. “Letcher’s running back home to Virginia with some of the Yankees in hot pursuit. We could sweep east and maybe make it easier for him. Perhaps bag some more of them Penn boys to boot.”

“To hell with him.” Ashby hissed. “We’ll head south too. Round up any darkie you see and take what supplies you need from the locals. Make sure you keep a ledger so Gov. Wise can subtract it from the payment this state owes Virginia.”

“Yes, Sir” Tucker said again.

By mid-day of August 7th Col. Turner Ashby and the 2,255 men left under his command had broken camp and begun the long march back to Virginia. They would leave behind almost 200 men dead or seriously wounded. Accompanying them were 18 “recaptured” blacks and eight local guides. Nearly 400 Pennsylvanians lay dead or seriously wounded after the hard fighting in corn fields one mile from Bushy Run Station.

 

[benjamin]

Indiana during the initial crisis

Following its formation in 1856 and subsequent victories in that year’s elections the Republican Party very quickly became a major political power in the Northern States. Despite this the Democrats still held sway in several states of the Old Northwest. Powerful political machines worked to protect the status quo and opposed the newly seated Republicans whenever practical. The collapse of the Whigs and the Republican party’s absorption of the small Liberty and American parties ensured that the two party dynamic would remain albeit with different players. Indiana was one of those states that became a battleground between the old guard Democratic machine and the newly emboldened Republicans.

The year 1857 brought about an economic panic and heralded in hard times for many businesses. While the economy failed to recover public anxiety increased. The outbreak of the Mormon War caused little concern in Indiana. By early 1858 Secretary of War John B. Floyd had resigned after his initial mishandling of the Mormon War and April was replaced by Jefferson Davis. Though some accused Floyd of either corruption or incompetence or both, Floyd quietly returned to Virginia and in Indiana attention returned back to local politics. Recently elected Governor, Ashbel P. Willard, had already angered Indiana voters by announcing his support for slavery and states-rights. Suspicion arose when contracts for war goods went primarily to friends and political allies of the Governor.

In August the Indiana legislature initiated a thorough investigation of the many land commissioners appointed by the Governor. Land sales in north eastern Indiana had brought in considerable funds to the state treasury. Unfortunately, irregularities arose and the investigation soon found that over 100,000 dollars had been embezzled by commissioners appointed by Gov. Willard. By late August protests were becoming a regular occurrence in Indianapolis. On August 28th Willard called out the state militia and rioting left much of the city damaged and in disarray. Two days later nearly half of the Indiana militia refused to appear for morning muster, and when crowd of protesters gathered on the streets in front of the capital the rest of them refused to intervene as the people marched through the streets.

On the first day of September the Indianapolis Journal printed the text of a telegram sent by Gov. Willard to Sec. of War Davis. In the telegram Willard reasserted his support for slavery and denounced the “abolitionist elements” that inciting mob violence throughout the state. At the end of the telegram he asked Sec. Davis for his support in the ongoing crisis. While the actual reply never became public the reaction was worse than could be expected. Thousands of people from throughout the state arrived in Indianapolis over the next few weeks and by early October the Governor had been confined to his mansion with calls for his resignation or arrest growing. On October 7th the Indiana legislature voted to begin impeachment proceedings and initiated a full investigation of nearly all members of the Governor’s staff. It took just four days of debate and on the morning of Tuesday, October 12th the Indiana legislature voted by a substantial margin to remove Governor Willard from office.

Three hours later Willard released a public statement through the Indianapolis Sentinel. In it he refused to step down, declared martial law and blamed the current troubles on radical abolitionists and their Republican supporters. This did nothing to disperse the growing crowd but soon there after a number of pro-slavery Democrats showed up in the capital. These armed men managed to form a protective cordon around the two story brick house that served as the third official governor’s residence. By the evening of the 14th a potentially deadly standoff had developed. The militia stood by but fewer and fewer of them remained at arms. Many of them had gone home but a large number had sided with the anti-slavery crowd while only a handful sided with the besieged governor. For two days the standoff continued. Fist fights occurred nearly every other hour but no one died and some areas of the city like the central circle developed a fair like atmosphere.

The stalemate finally came to an end on October 17th when two regiments of federal troops under Col. George H. Thomas reached Indianapolis by rail. Leading the near famous 2nd Cavalry Regiment and newly formed 16th Infantry Regiment it was assumed that Col. Thomas would side with Gov. Willard. During the evening of the 17th Col. Thomas made his way through the crowd with two of his staff members and had dinner with Willard. Late in the evening Thomas and his subordinates left the Governor’s mansion. It is not known what occurred or was said but the next mourning Thomas moved his forces away from the mansion and set up a camp in an open space near the city center. Thomas met with ringleaders from both groups but refused to move his men to intervene.

With the military sitting aside Gov. Willard saw the writing on the wall and offered to meet with Henry S. Lane the man who had arisen as the leader of the anti-slavery faction. Willard agreed to step down in return for all charges against him being dropped. Lane agreed and Willard was escorted away from the capital. Lt. Gov. Abram A. Hammond, also a pro-slavery man, fled the state the next day for Kentucky. Just three days later the Indiana legislature voted Henry Lane to fill Indiana’s vacant Senatorial seat and Oliver Hazard Perry Morton became Indiana’s 13th Governor. Over the next few days the large crowds melted away and even the Democrats gave up. Word quickly reached Washington and Thomas received word from Breckinridge and Davis to intervene and restore Willard as governor. Thomas refused and was relieved of command. His two subordinates also refused as did the officers and NCOs bellow them. By the end of the day on the 24th the crisis had ended. A quickly devised special election held in mid-1859 confirmed Lane as Senator and Morton as governor (both would retain their offices after winning the regular elections of 1860 by wide margins).

Indiana would over the next year raise a large and well prepared militia and become staunch supporters of the Republican Party for generations. In late 1859 Hammond sued the Indiana government claiming that he was illegally forced out of office. The Indiana Supreme Court ruled against Hammond in mid 1860 citing the unstated right of revolution that allows for the overthrow of oppressive or illegal governments. A year later the US Supreme Court now residing in Philadelphia refused to hear the case but issued a brief referring back to the 1849 decision of Luther v. Borden. This brief was reiterated several more times over the next several years as other states underwent changes in government.

Benjamin

NOTES: Just finished Border War and have decided to somewhat modify my where my TL is headed because of what I've learned reading it. I knew fighting had occurred along the slave/free border but was unaware of the near constant nature of the conflict. Also the level of support for fugitive slaves and other blacks shown by their white neighbors and abolitionist supports was surprising. Yes there was still a lot of racism but the concern for civil liberties and a basic level of human dignity far out weighed the race divide.

I'll return to the general narrative in my next post but I've decided to stick in some "fill in the blanks" type essays to give a better overall picture of the US as it is torn asunder.

 

[Evermourn]

I've been reading these forums for quite awhile now, but I registered last night so I could say how much I've enjoyed this TL, thanks for putting it up. Found it last night and worked through it with the help of Wikipedia to look up people I hadn't heard of before, which made it a lot more understandable.

 

[benjamin]

I've been reading these forums for quite awhile now, but I registered last night so I could say how much I've enjoyed this TL, thanks for putting it up. Found it last night and worked through it with the help of Wikipedia to look up people I hadn't heard of before, which made it a lot more understandable.

Welcome aboard. Thanks for the compliment, and I hope you continue to enjoy the the TL. I know its a bit slow going but hopefully the pace will pick up a bit after the holidays.

I do tend to over research a bit and emphasize semi-obscure people, which is one of many reasons why this TL is taking so long. Eventually, I'm going to post a full bibliography of books I've used as references. Initially my idea was to include footnotes and citations, but that proved too much of a hassle. I do hope to add more images in future updates. My current plan is to cover just ten years time (1857 - 1867) and then re-edit and post it in the finished TL forum. At this rate that will be completed in ten years time.

Benjamin

 

[benjamin]

A Grievous Sin and a Graceful Psalm (September 6-9, 1859)

“Mr. Ward! Mr. Ward!” Frederick Townsend Ward could hear the yells of the small Hindoo boy even over the noisy din of the market.

Ward had been in San Francisco for less than a week and already he was taking a liking to the growing city. There was an energy here unlike any other city he had ever been to. His world travels had taken him to a lot of exotic places but it was here that impressed him the most. The mixture of immigrants from through out the world gave San Francisco a cosmopolitan feel that would put even Paris to shame. Hundreds of people arrived daily to find their fortunes in the gold filled hills of the Sierra Madres. Most of them didn’t strike gold but many still found ways to make a living selling their services or wares. This included the thousands of newcomers from India many of whom chose not to work the railroad crews. In this group were numerous older men, women of all ages and even orphan children.

Ward had met the eight year Ravi nine days ago shortly after his arrival in San Francisco. Ravi’s father had died during the Great Mutiny, and his mother had passed away on the long voyage across the Indian and Pacific Oceans.

“Did you find him Ravi?” Ward inquired as the boy emerged from the crowd.

“Sure, Sir. I found him all right.” Ravi said as flashed a broad grin.

Ward returned his grin and began the follow the boy as he weaved his way through the crowded streets. After a few minutes they arrived at small tavern occupying a ramshackle wooden structure far off the major streets. It had the appearance of having been built as a temporary lodging that over time had taken on the status of being precariously permanent. Above the heavy wooden doors that seemed the most solid parts of the tavern was a small handed painted sign that gave the establishment’s name, The Lonely Sherpa.

Entering the building assaulted Ward’s nose with the smell of bad tobacco, cheap spirits and oriental spices. In the dim light he could see a handful of tables most of which were empty. Beyond them at the far wall was a small roughly made wooden bar. Behind the bar stood a short stocky man with bright red hair and an arc of freckles across his face. He didn’t match the picture that Ward had rendered in his mind as to the proprietors appearance, but short dark haired woman who took food and drinks to the patrons did.

“He’s over there in the corner.” Ravi said as they walked towards the bar.

“A drink first.” Ward replied quietly.

At the bar stood four rickety looking stools. Three of them were empty but one of them held a middle aged man who held his glass of libations as if it were the most precious item in the world. Ward walked over to the bar with Ravi trailing close behind. The red haired man finally turned his attention away from scrubbing a small set of silver that looked tarnished beyond recovery to look up at Ward.

“What’ll it be?” the man asked in an odd Irish/Indian accent.

“Whatever he has.” Ward replied motioning towards the man next to him. “He seems to a fondness for it.”

The weary man looked up from his drink and gave Ward a wry smile. His brown hair puffed out from under his soft wrinkled hat and perfectly matched the brown tuft that graced his chin. Despite his tired worn out look his hazel eyes still sparkled with liveliness, intelligence and perhaps a hint of insanity.

The Irish bartender uncorked a dusty bottle and poured a few inches of a light brown liquid into an equally dirty glass. Ward took a hesitant sip and waited a second as the drink settled on his tongue and then smoothly flowed down his throat. A moment later a surprised smile appeared on his face.

“We may be a touch out of the way,” the bartender said as he too gave a big smile, “but my wife knows her rum. So what brings you in to my fine establishment? I doubt it was for the rum…at least initially.”

“No not for the rum…initially. My boy Ravi assures me that the man sitting over in that dark corner is a one James Haslam.” Ward replied in a voice loud enough for everyone in the tavern to overhear. “If that proves to be the case then I wish to speak to him.”

Ward noticed out of the corner of his eye that the man was now standing and had his hand resting on a pistol shaped lump in his jacket. Ward made sure his hands remained on the bar where the Irish man could see them. As Haslam began to unbutton his jacket the bartender let out a long whistle and out of the back kitchen emerged a large red haired man carrying an equally impressive large bore shotgun. The barkeep pulled his own weapon, a Colt revolver, out from behind the bar, and his waitress/wife produced a small pepperbox pistol. Haslam quickly pulled his hands away from his weapon and put on a fake smile.

The owners of the Lonely Sherpa kept their weapons out as James Haslam walked over to the bar. Ward noticed that he reeked of sweat and horse manure.

“A rum, Flynn.” Haslam said in a friendly tone.

“Your tab’s overdue already Haslam. I should turn your sorry ass in to the Pinks. I’m sure I could get something for finding a damn dirty Mormon desperado.” The Irish barkeep named Flynn replied in a stern tone. Before further disagreements could arise Ward slapped a ten dollar gold piece onto the bar.

“I’ll cover his drinks.” Ward said before adding, “Along with anything the fine fellow who introduced me to this excellent rum cares to have.”

The bartender let out a hearty laugh and the taller redheaded man walked over to the bar and examined the coin.

“Sean Conner Flynn! Don’t be so rude.” The dark skin waitress scolded in a thick accent that didn’t sound very Irish but had a hint of English. “Patrick Colin Flynn keep your brother in line or we’ll soon have nary a customer.”

The shorter of the two brothers extended his hand to Ward and they exchanged a hearty hand shake. As it turned out Patrick Flynn, the tavern’s owner, had been a soldier in the British Army and deserted while serving in northern India. He met his wife, a Sherpa orphan raised by missionaries, while hiding out in foothills of the Himalayas. Two years ago he traveled to Australia where he met up with his brother who had been transported for stealing. Just over a year ago Sean Conner Flynn’s wife died of a snake bite and the three of them left for America. Patrick and his wife Maggie were happy running a tavern, though they hoped to invest in a nicer establishment within the upcoming year. Sean on the other hand chafed at the confinement and yearned to travel.

The fifth man at the table remained surprisingly quiet as the Irishmen recounted their story. Ward knew much of his tale though initially he didn’t let on. Finally, after the others had reached the end and paused to sip their drinks and light the gas lamps as the sun faded across the Pacific, Frederick Ward turned to the silent Mormon.

“They say you’re good with horses.” Ward began.

“If you need help with your mounts see my boss, Mr. Tobias. His livery stable is out by the wharfs. Travis, his smithy, is top notch and will work any gold you have into any shape imaginable.” Haslam replied with a sneer.

“I’m more interested in your riding ability. Three hundred miles in just over three days. And that was just the beginning. The press called you the Mormon Mercury. Rumor is that you still have some of Young’s personal dispatches hidden somewhere out in the Indian lands.” Ward said.

“Go to Hell.” Haslam replied as he began to stand up.

Ward grabbed his arm and pulled him down so that the man’s right ear was next to his mouth. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you did in the past. Life can be a heap of shit. Right now though I need your help, and I’m willing to pay…in gold.”

Haslam looked around and saw the unwelcome looks on Patrick and Sean’s faces. The man at the bar was snoring loudly. Everyone else had left, and they weren’t likely to have been overly sympathetic to a fugitive Mormon. So he reluctantly sat back down.

“Good.” Ward continued. “I have this letter that needs to get to someone.”

Ward pulled a neatly kept envelop from inside his coat and slid it over to Haslam. Haslam slowly opened it and unfolded the letter within. As he read it his eyes welled up a bit.

“This don’t mean nothing.” He said as he refolded the letter. “What’s done is done. You can’t go turning back the clock. We’re all smashed up. Gone to Australia or our graves.”

“I’m not privy to what the letter says.” Ward said as he puzzled over Haslam’s odd comments.

Haslam snorted.

“It’s an apology. A damn apology. And it’s not even for me.” Haslam said as he handed the letter over to Frederick Ward to read.

Dear Mr. John Smith,

There are times in one’s life when we act in error and commit mighty sins. Often these times occur in youth and come about due to arrogance or ignorance. If one is lucky nothing and no one is harmed. No injuries arise except the awful bruising of a young man or women’s pride. From these errors a person grows wiser, and life continues on with the hope that these sins become ever more infrequent.
And then there are times when an altogether different type of sin is committed. A sin of grievous proportions. One cannot move on and just grow wiser. For in committing these grievous sins there are always those for whom life no longer continues. Loved ones are lost, innocents perish and nations are torn apart. These sins leave enduring scars. These sins forever mar the histories of those who perpetrate them. These sins are irredeemable.
The murder of a hundred is not wiped clean by the murder of a five thousand. Mass murder is not the way to defend one’s homestead and war is not justice served. One grave sin is not to be met by another, especially in America where all men are created equal and all religions are to be tolerated. Sadly, this was recently not the case.
We of the Republican Party have committed a grievous sin. Just three short years ago we endorsed a platform that included the passage…Resolved: That the Constitution confers upon Congress sovereign powers over the Territories of the United States for their government; and that in the exercise of this power, it is both the right and the imperative duty of Congress to prohibit in the Territories those twin relics of barbarism--Polygamy, and Slavery.
This passage was used to justify our support for an unjust war. We do not condone polygamy but more importantly we assuredly do not condone wars of religion. To say such is to repudiate all that our nation stands for. Yet, we allowed ourselves to committee that very error. And though it can change nothing nor heal our enduring scar, we feel compelled to act. We of the Republican leadership seek nothing, not even an unearned forgiveness, but instead offer to you and your flock whatever services we can provide. Please consider us your faithful servants.

With Sincere Humbleness,

The letter was signed by nearly all of the most important members of the Republican Party including William Seward, Abraham Lincoln, Thaddeus Stevens, Benjamin Wade and many others. Ward whistled through his teeth as he read over the list of signatures.
“He tried to stop it you know.” Haslam suddenly blurted out as tears once again came to his eyes. “Bringham Young didn’t want those people dead. He gave me a letter. Said to let them go unmolested. He couldn’t control the Indians though…or the radicals. They wanted blood. Revenge for our treatment back east. Young, he didn’t want that. He wanted statehood and to be left alone. That ordeal at Meadow Mountains should never have happened. The war and the killing all of it was a mistake, an error…a grievous sin.”

Haslam shook as he spoke. Ward gave him a few minutes to recover, fearful that pushing the man may just cause him to break.

“Word is you know of John Smith’s location.” Ward finally said.

“He’s gone. Deep into Mexico by now. Far away from the Marshals and Pinkertons.” Haslam quipped.

“Not likely. Santa Anna is no more a friend to the Latter Day Saints then Buchanan. He recently had several prominent Mormon hanged and forced hundreds of others to convert. If Smith is in Mexico than he’s not overly bright.
I hear he’s spending his days in Sonora living amongst the Apaches with a few close followers. They say he’s constantly on the move…living like a fox chased by hounds.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Haslam said quietly.

“Just get him that letter.” Ward continued. “Tell him to write a reply if he’s willing and get it to a one Major-General George G. Meade. Meade’s back in Sonora and will know what to do with any reply Smith cares to write. For your trouble I’m to give you 200 dollars in gold now, and Meade will have a further 300 in gold for you. Furthermore I’m to offer you 250 dollars a month for your services.”

“My services?” Haslam asked.

“The other relic of barbarism…slavery. Some important interests back east wish to ascertain whether or not that deplorable institution has made its way here to California. As a free state, slavery is illegal but there is reason to believe that Governor Weller has turned a blind eye towards the activities of the Southern immigrants now residing around Lake Cabazon. There are related rumors that numerous arms and even some artillery has found its way to southern California. If this turns out to be true than one wonders what cause these armaments are meant for.” Ward spoke quietly as he leaned in towards Haslam. By getting close to the man Ward was better able to gauge Haslam reactions, and Ward was pleased to find that the man bristled at the mention of slavery coming to California.
Your role then, Mr. Haslam, would be that of messenger and spy. Your task would be dangerous, but General Meade would look out for you and you would report directly to him.”

James Haslam sat back in his chair and looked away for a few moments and then turned back to Ward with a sour look. “We owe you nothing. Perhaps it would be best if we allied with our barbaric twin. I don’t give a care what your…”

Before he could finish Ravi burst into the tavern yelling.

“Mr. Ward there’s a riot! And the crowd aims to hang some people…including Mr. Wang and Gurijala.” Ravi was out of breath and had a fearful look in his eyes. Ward knew that Mr. Gurijala had given him free food, and Mr. Wang occasionally hired him to run errands.

Ward left Haslam seated at the table and followed Ravi out the door. The sounds of the riot soon reached his ears as he made his way towards the city’s Hindootown. Already a couple of buildings were burning and the scene was bit chaotic, but Frederick Ward was quickly able to find where the intended hangings were to take place.

A crowd numbering at least 100 held seven men below the arm of a large crane intended to move bags of grain into and out of the upper stories of a large barn like warehouse. Two chinamen, four negros and Mr. Gurijala stood beneath the crane turned gallows to await their fate. Luckily, the height of the crane had slowed the pace of the hanging as it proved difficult getting the ropes over the crane’s high arm, but all seven men showed signs of being beaten.

A few people not a part of crowd hovered near the warehouse but the angry mob was well armed and kept them at distance. Ward was not one to invite death or revel in forlorn hopes, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Pulling his Colt Dragoon Ward pushed his way through the crowd and marched up to one of the men he guessed to be a ringleader.

“Not a good evening for a hanging.” He said in a stern voice. Before the man could reply another person walked up to another one of the men organizing the hanging and poked what appeared to be a cane into his neck. Ward took a brief moment to glance at the new comer. He instantly recognized the eccentric rum lover from the Lonely Sherpa.

“You Sirs are being most uncivil.” The man proclaimed in the most matter of fact manner.

Another one of the ringleaders hefted a large axe handle and walked up to the man with the cane. “You won’t look so good with your face bashed in Mister.”

Ward wanted to help the crazy man but the mob began to stir and a group of men armed with knifes and clubs moved towards him. Ward pulled his second pistol and pointed at another man but could do little else.

“But he sure as hell will look a lot better than you will once I pull the trigger of this here ten gauge.” A tall redheaded man said as he emerged from the crowd pointing a large shotgun. The end of its barrel pressed against the soft skin just behind the right ear of the axe handled wielder.

Once again Ward took a quick look to see what was going on and was welcomed to see a sly smile coming from Sean Flynn. The cricket bat slung over his back made him appear to be a modern Viking berserker. A moment later movement appeared behind him and he caught sight of Maggie Flynn carrying two pepperbox pistols, Patrick Flynn with another shotgun and even James Haslam who looked a bit under gunned with only a single revolver.

“I’ll say again it’s not a good evening for a hanging.” Ward repeated as he held his pistols in the face of two different men.

“Sod off and go screw yourselves.” A big man with an Irish accent said. As one of the men who didn’t have a gun pointed at him he remained defiant. “There are a hundred of us and just few of you. You get a few of us and we rush in and rip you apart. Then we hang these here Hindoos, niggers and chinks and go back and get a few more till we’re satisfied.”

“Not tonight you black hearted thugs.” The man with the cane said as he pushed its sharp conical brass tip deeper into the man’s neck.

“And who the Hell are you?” A man with a discernible French accent demanded. “You think you’re the goddamn Emperor?”

“Ah, don’t go giving the man any ideas you daft frog.” Maggie Flynn said in an exasperated tone. “Mr. Norton hear is crazy enough already. He’d be unbearable as Emperor. No offense Joshua.”

“None taken Mrs. Flynn.” Joshua Norton replied.

Despite the banter the mop was growing a restless, and Ward could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead. Ward could sense the crowd coiling as if to strike and his fingers twitched on the triggers of his twin Colts. Then he heard the cane wielding Joshua Norton talking. He looked over and saw that the man, while still keeping his cane up, had lowered his head.

“…I will fear no evil: For thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.” Norton immediately started over as soon as he had finished.

Joshua Norton continued to say the 23rd Psalm over and over again. Mid way through his fourth recitation others from the crowd began to join in. By about the tenth time much of the crowd had melted away leaving just a few of the more pious to complete the psalm before the too departed with guilty looks on their faces.

Having long since put their weapons away Ward and his friends, as he now considered them, let out a collective sigh of relief. Six of the would be hanging victims thanked the group profusely before heading back to what remained of their homes, helped along by others from their part of town. A young Hindoo man stayed nearby and soon offered his service as a manservant or porter to Ward. He was initially inclined to refuse but changed his mind when he realized the man could turn out to be useful during his upcoming journey northward.

Two days later Ward left the little room above the tavern where he had gotten free lodging from the Flynns to make his way towards the busy docks of San Francisco. Ward had offered to take the destitute Mr. Norton along with him as an aide or valet, but the man said that he was too busy preparing to make a grand declaration in just over a week’s time. Sean Flynn jumped at the chance to depart San Francisco, and the large Irishman met Ward at the proper dock still carrying a large shotgun and wearing the cricket bat across his back.

Captain Paulding, newly reinstated as commander of the U.S.S. Wabash, greeted Ward as he boarded the screw frigate. Paulding welcomed the two newcomers aboard with out batting an eye, and by mid day the vessel was under way. Just past Fortress Alcatraz the Wasbash was joined five other ships and together they carried four more regiments under Brigadier-General Longstreet to reinforce Grant in the upper Oregon territory.

Benjamin

NOTES: James Haslam was the man who rode 300 miles to Salt Lake City in just over three days. Brigham Young got a reply back to him in just an hour or so and he rode back to tell the Mormons near Mountain Meadows to let the settlers pass through unmolested. Young’s note for Haslam to carry read…"In regard to emigration trains passing through our settlements, we must not interfere with them until they are first notified to keep away. You must not meddle with them. The Indians we expect will do as they please but you should try and preserve good feelings with them. There are no other trains going south that I know of[.] f those who are there will leave let them go in peace."
Of course in this TL none of that really matters as Mary Francher’s survival brings the Massacre to the attention of Congress and the public in a more timely and violent manner. Once the ringleaders of the massacre, namely Isaac Haight, John D. Lee and William Dane, realized that there had been a survivor they made every effort to cover up Mormon involvement in the affair.

The Flynns are fictional characters. Their tavern can be pictured as a run down combination of Marion’s tavern from Raiders of the Lost Ark and a old west saloon.

Finally, I couldn’t help myself I had to include him. He is, like dirigibles, William Walker and Robert E. Lee as President of the CSA, a classic 19th AH cliché. And if you don’t know who he is do a bit of research on San Francisco history from Sept. 17, 1859 to January 10, 1880.

 

[Grimm Reaper]

You call the Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico a cliche?!?

 

[benjamin]

You call the Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico a cliche?!?

I meant cliche in the Old English sense of the word...frexing awesome!!

Coming soon - Paulding, Ward, Longstreet and Friends sail north and find some flotsam.

We learn how to march an out of state army through the Old Line State.

And Lord Lyons thinks he might have to leave town in a hurry.

Benjamin

 

[benjamin]

The Calm After A Storm (September 12 – 15)

Strong waves crashed against the side of the screw frigate U.S.S. Wabash. Gale force winds whipped through her riggings which had already sustained minor damage. The 301 foot ship rolled heavily as the captain and crew worked desperately to keep the bow pointed into the waves.

Frederick Ward lay quietly in his bunk. The sound and smell of Sean Flynn’s vomiting made him a little queasy, but his empty stomach had nothing left to wretch back up. His newly acquired Indian porter, Tula Ram, turned out to be a seasoned soldier and a man to keep his eye on, but even he looked ill as he made a feeble attempt to get some sleep on his small cot. Two days out of San Francisco and the small squadron gets battered by the edge of a massive cyclone. Awful luck, Ward thought, and all though he wasn’t a superstitious man; he wondered if it was a harbinger of things to come for the Americans.

A day later the sea was dead calm, and the crew of the Wabash had gotten her steam engine back up to full power. The steam ship Adelaide’s boilers had been damaged and so the Wabash had taken her under tow. Ward could also see the ironclad Brooklyn and the sloop-of-war, Constellation, from his position along the starboard bow. Further to stern was the large and newly commissioned steamer, Calypso. Unfortunately the schooner, Pride of Baltimore, had vanished during the storm taking to the bottom her crew of fifty-eight and the 154 soldiers she carried. Now the battered squadron was proceeding towards the coast with the intention of entering Humboldt Bay to make repairs.

The entrance to Humboldt Bay displayed the signs of cyclone damage. Debris was scattered throughout the area but most surprisingly was the vast amount of wreckage and flotsam that littered the waters both outside and inside the bay. Ward could see large pieces that appeared to be parts of several ships thrown up onto the beach. As Ward surveyed the area the cry of ‘Man Overboard!’ rang out from the crow’s nest. This first call was soon joined by holler after holler of ‘Man Overboard!’ Within minutes smaller boats were being lowered into the water by every one of the American ships, and nets were laid over the sides so that the multitude of people writhing about in the water could make their way up into the American ships to be rescued.

As the Americans began their rescue effort multitudes of small boats began to emerge from the mouth of the bay. They too took part in the growing effort to rescue the seemingly endless numbers of people bobbing about. When the first of many men made their way onto the deck of the Wabash Ward immediately realized that these were military men and British to boot. Within a few hours the Wabash alone had recovered well over 200 men from the water. When added to the numerous American soldiers already crowded into the ship it made the situation nearly unbearable. Everyone was relieved when the Wabash made anchor deep inside the Bay and the offloading process began. Much to everyone’s surprise there were six large ships already anchored there. One of those ships was beached and laying fully on its port side while another one had sunk in shallow water so that only the main deck remained dry. The rest of them showed signs of heavy damage including one that had been unmasted.

“My God.” Ward heard someone behind him say. When he looked back he saw Captain Paulding with a dreadful look on his face. “Do you realize what that is, or was, Mister Ward?”

“Captain?” Ward inquired as he watched Flynn and Ram returning in a jolly boat after taking a load of American soldiers to sure. He tipped his hat to them before turning to face Captain Paulding. “Are you referring to the cyclone damage that has torn apart this once beautiful bay?”

Paulding chuckled and then took the time to light his pipe.

“Mr. Ward, I will assume you are joking.” Paulding said with a grin.

Frederick Ward looked back out towards the British ships.

“I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the Orient on various merchant ships and the likes, Captain.” Ward began. “Shortly after spending a bit of time in Siam and India I was First Mate on a coastal steamer called the Antelope. We went up and down the coast from Macao to Shanghai hauling every thing from porcelain to pigs, though honestly it was mostly opium, silk, rice and guns. On board we had several men from Japan. Seems even in that isolated society there were some who yearned to get away and see the world. One of them had been a fisherman in Edo Harbor when Perry’s ships arrived. It seems that lit a fire under him and he decided to go out and see the world.

“Once he told how Japan had fought off two separate invasions by far superior Mongol armies. He told me about the bravery and skill of the Japanese warriors. He told me how Japan’s horsemen and archers were the best in the world. And he told me how the samurai and shoguns led armies far better trained and equipped than anything the Mongols had ever seen.

“I was deeply impressed by his story, but the next day he told me that although Japan had indeed been twice invaded by the Mongols but it wasn’t the brave warriors of Japan that saved the country. It was cyclones. Both times. Now the Japanese have word for this…kamikaze; the ‘divine wind.’ Japan was saved from invasion by cyclones and I have no doubt that America has been as well. This task force came all the way from India, where the British finally have the Great Rebellion under control, by way of Hawaii to win a quick and telling victory in the old Oregon territory. They can’t wait around and take the risk that France stirs up trouble while they’re running headlong into a war with the U.S. If war is too come they need early military victories and a favorable settlement.
“But now we have our kamikaze. America’s ‘divine wind’ has given us an opening.”

“What kind of opening?” A third voice interjected.

Ward and Captain Paulding turned their gaze away from the flotilla of busy launches that traveled about the bay. Standing next to them was a tall man with a thick Southern accent and a piercing gaze. His face sported a thick brown beard that matched his wavy brown hair and in his mouth burned a cigar that smelled of fine southern tobacco. When looking landward hey could see portions of the two small towns, Eureka and Union, which stood on the shore of the bay. Despite being hit by the cyclone themselves their residents came out in large numbers to help in the rescue effort.

“Ah, Brigadier-General Longstreet,” Paulding said as he shook the man’s hand. “My sincere apologies for not greeting you as you came aboard. I wasn’t informed of your impending arrival. It was said that you had gone ashore.”

“It’s fine Captain. I meant not to cause a ruckus. Commodore Davis seemed a bit busy so I decided to pay you a visit instead. My initial purpose for this trip was merely to leave my officers alone to see how they got on without me.” Longstreet said as he too leaned on the gunwale and looked out over the bay. “I should apologize for my eves dropping. Your uniforms caught my attention, but your conversation proved even more interesting. Mister Ward has made something of a reputation for himself in San Francisco, and I’m curious as to his opinions regarding our current situation.”

“You’ve been ashore General. How many soldiers do you think the British were transporting among that squadron?” Ward asked.

“If I were to guess…I’d say about 5,000.” Longstreet replied thoughtfully. “That includes Royal Marines but not sailors. Which I dare say is over twice the number of men that were in my force, and that’s before the loss of the Pride of Baltimore.”

“No doubt about it.” Captain Paulding added. “Those men were to be an invasion force. Commodore Davis has informed me that he spoke directly with the British naval commander, a one Commodore Henry Keppel. The man’s beside himself and may be verging on hysteria. But the Commodore assures me that Keppel very nearly outright admitted that his squadron was transporting an invasion force tasked with defeating General Grant.”

“And now they are a wreck. Even if they were to get the five vessels still afloat in the bay seaworthy they’re in no shape to fight.” Ward said.

“They have lost their commanding officer, Brigadier-General George Lawrence, most of their artillery, most of their horses and a goodly portion of their supplies.” Longstreet said matter of factly. “My men have relieved a substantial portion of them of their personal arms which are now being stored on board the Brooklyn. So far altercations beyond the typical drunkenness and fighting have not occurred. But my men aren’t dumb and rumors are spreading. They outnumber us but are in no condition to fight.”

“So what do we do?” Captain Paulding asked. “Commodore Davis has asked for opinions from his officers, but I’m at a loss.”

“We complete our mission and move my men north to reinforce Grant.” Longstreet replied without a hint of doubt. “The Brits can stay here because after we bombard their surviving ships and burn their stores they’ll have very few options.”

“You shell those ships and you provoke a war there is every chance our nation won’t win. The Royal Navy will cry for blood, and Britain will wipe our merchant fleet off the seas and shell our ports.” Ward interjected. “The Union is coming apart at the seams and a war against Britain would only hasten America’s demise.”

“So what do you have in mind, Mister Ward?” Longstreet asked as he puffed his cigar.

“This divine wind has given us a chance to step back from the precipice General Harney has pushed us to. Leave a small force here to watch over the Brits…say that infantry regiment gutted by the sinking of the Pride of Baltimore. Move north with the rest to reinforce Grant per our orders but send a ship back to San Francisco with all due hast to spread the word about how the brave people of Eureka and Union, despite being lashed by a cyclone were able to rescue thousands of British sailors from certain death.” Ward said with more than a touch of excitement in his voice.

“What of the little fact that this was an army of invasion?” Paulding asked. “And which one of our much needed ships do we send back to San Francisco?”

“We ignore that little fact, and I’d bet Keppel might be willing to handle the second problem for us with one of the very sea worthy vessels he has remaining, especially if it means getting rescued.” Ward said looking for any clue that either Paulding or Longstreet was coming around to his idea.

“But to what end?” Paulding probed.

“Britain is massing an army of over 15,000 regulars in Canada. Even with its recent expansion the Royal Navy will still sweep the US Navy from the high seas in a matter of months. And now with the Great Indian Rebellion over Britain has a large pool of veteran manpower to draw from. A war now would be devastating, but the same goes for Britain. Their defeating the U.S. is an almost certainty, but what of France and Spain and Russia and even Austria? Britain doesn’t want war either. They are looking for a way out, but Davis won’t give it to them. This cyclone wasn’t a kamikaze because it won the war for us…it did no such thing. This cyclone is divine because it allows us to stop this war before it begins.” Ward looked at each man. He could tell he had hit a nerve with Paulding, but Longstreet remained an enigma.

“So you would have us leave behind a battered regiment, move the rest of my men north per my orders but try like hell to prevent the whole damn war from happening in the first place?” Longstreet finally asked in a dubious tone.

“Exactly.” Ward replied sullenly in the belief that Longstreet had long since reject his plan.

Longstreet stayed quiet for nearly a minute as he puffed his cigar. Finally he spoke.

“I can live with that.”

Benjamin

NOTES: A powerful cyclone really did hit the Humboldt Bay region in September of 1859.

F. T. Ward’s whereabouts during a large portion of 1856 are generally unknown. I’m going to say he was traveling in India and Siam, and while may certainly be wrong I’m not counting it as a POD since real OTL information is scarce.

Tula Ram is Rao Tula Ram, a famous Indian leader during the Indian Mutiny. In this TL he makes his way to America after being exiled instead of going to Persia.

 

[benjamin]

The Guns of New Orleans (September 7, 1859)

Captain James T. Kirk felt a bit out of place on the bustling docks of New Orleans. The muggy air had an unpleasant heaviness altogether absent in Sonora. He still had trouble getting used to the wet heat. Luckily he wasn’t trapped in his heavy wool uniform, but that too made him nervous. Most assuredly being that he was still in the United States so he couldn’t be accused of a spy. Whether or not the Southerners he was following would see it that way was a different story. A Colonel by the name of Charles Stone had recruited Kirk while he was serving in recently annexed Sonora. From his post in Magdalena he went by mule to Cananea and from there he went east to Texas by stage. He rode a barge down the Rio Grande and then he took a coastal steamer from Corpus Christi to New Orleans. All of this based on a rumor.

A man traveling through Sonora on his way to southern California had gotten drunk in a small cantina in Magdalena. While there he bragged to U.S. soldiers that Southern folk were arming for the “time of reckoning” that would surely occur if Yankee folk were foolish enough to elect a Black Republican. He mentioned seeing crates and crates of guns ready for shipment at New Orleans the numbers of which would make the deliveries of those damnable ‘Beecher’s Bibles’ look like a mole hill to the Southern Mountain. Even worse he had implied that all of this was being paid for by the Federal Government with the direct knowledge of several members of Buchanan’s cabinet. He also added that some of the arms were going to ‘additional interests’ and would in their own way serve to weaken the Yankee cause. Col. Stone sent two volunteers to follow the man into California but needed someone to verify the man’s story. So Kirk in a combination of being drafted and volunteering found himself making his long journey. Capt. Kirk once serving in the 8th Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers was now a spy.

A spy against his own country men. Kirk thought. Doing Stone’s dirty work.

Stone said he’d help him out if trouble arose. But Stone was a long way away and he got his orders from someone else. Someone Stone only referred to as ‘Cadiz’. Kirk truly hoped he was working for the right side.

What if one day the name Captain James T. Kirk ends up replacing Benedict Arnold as the nation’s biggest traitor? It would be the death of mother. He worried.

He mulled this over for several more hours as he walked around the docks looking at fish and shrimp; acting the part of the purchasing agent he was pretending to be. Finally as the sun darkened a Hispanic man in his late forties or early fifties approached Kirk.

“I have come a long way, being originally from Cadiz.” The man said.

Kirk whose mind was lost in thought jumped. He had come to believe himself on a fool’s errand was ready to write a rather sour letter to Maj. Stone expressing just this opinion. Now though he was standing face to face with the man he was to call, Mr. Bexar. After a few moments he remembered how he was to respond.

“While I hail from just up the river.” He said nervously.
The man flashed a broad toothy grin and thanked God in Spanish.

“These cloak and dagger affairs are for the young.” The man said with a chuckle. “I am to be called Mr. Bexar, but how I will ever remember that I do not know.”

“Captain James T. Kirk.” Kirk replied while shaking the man’s hand. “They told me you would have information concerning an important warehouse.”

“Si, Captain I do.” Mister Bexar replied as they walked along the docks towards the warehouse district. “A Mister Soule purchased this particular warehouse within the last year. Soule helped to arm and finance William Walker’s latest adventure. He now has his fingers in other pies. In partnership with Congressman Quitman he has set himself up as the primary weapons supplier for a multitude of Southern organizations. Together they have the ear of Secretary of War Davis and indirectly President Buchanan.”

Kirk was about to speak when out of the shadows stepped three men. Kirk stopped walking and began to move his hand towards his hidden pistol. Mr. Bexar noticed and grabbed his shoulder.

“No, amigo. These are my men.”

Kirk was surprised that two of the men were blacks and the third a Mexican. Without a word the five men walked along the row of warehouses that lined Commerce Street. Finally at Fulton Street four of them waited while one of the black men went down an alley for several minutes. When he came back into sight he mentioned for the rest of them to come down the alley as well. As they entered the alley they all light their small whale oil lamps and soon they came upon a small built into the side of the building.

The Mexican and the larger of the two black men picked up a heavy metal bar that was lying, seemingly randomly, in the alley and smashed it against the door near its handle. Kirk heard the distinct sound of cracking wood as the door’s cross bar gave way. They quietly pushed the door open and entered the dark artificial cavern.

“Raul says we have no more than an hour to find what we’re looking for. After that the night watchman will have forgotten about the ten dollars we gave him.” Bexar said as they looked around the areas where their lights shown. The building was filled with crates, boxes and burlap sacks and it smelled of an odd mixture of tobacco, coffee and gunpowder. “Martin, Billy, you two look around for any crates that could be holding weapons. Be especially on the lookout for any form of artillery. Mr. JT come with me. We’ll give the front offices a look over.”

Over the next half hour Bexar and Kirk carefully rummaged through the desks and cabinets of the four front offices. One of them belonged to Mr. Soule himself but it was in one of the side offices that Kirk found a locked filing cabinet. After a little bit of finagling Kirk was able to open the cabinet using a hat pin and parts of a stray spring. Inside its draws were hundreds of bills of lading, receipts and order forms. They flipped through them quickly and quickly realized that this was exactly what they were looking for.

“Thousands upon thousands of weapons have gone through this warehouse.” Captain Kirk said as he looked over papers spread out before them. “Most of them have come out of Federal armories with destinations throughout the South. But look at these. They’ve also been selling a very large number of surplus arms to a French shipping firm. The note on the bottom of the page seems to indicate that the guns are being shipped by way of Nicaragua and then on to a place called Nouvelle-Calédonie.”

Bexar looked confused. He took a few minutes to look over the papers more closely.

“I know a little French but this still doesn’t make sense. Why buy thousands of surplus muskets, swords and bayonets just to ship them off to some God forsaken penal colony in the middle of the Pacific?” Bexar flipped through the papers one last time and they gave out a long exasperated sigh.

“What is the name of the shipping company?” Kirk asked as he looked around the room. He answered himself without waiting for a reply from Bexar. “Soret & Company Global. They pick up their goods here in New Orleans and then sail on to Nicaragua. Soule’s company S.Q.B. & L Limited makes nearly all of the arrangements for Soret & Company Global. They go even so far as to contract with Vanderbilt’s Accessory Transit Company for travel across Nicaragua.”

“So they provide a lot of different services for their customers. So what?” Bexar said while he sat at the desk tapping an ink pen.

“In Soule’s office there was a list on the wall. It was a list of vessels contracted to make the New Orleans to Greytown run.” Kirk said excitedly. “They were all Vanderbilt steamships. But on the Pacific side the goods were loaded on to French vessels. Not surprising since Soret & Company is a French company. The thing is the ships on the Pacific side are a mixture of French and American vessels. Two of them I’ve heard of already. The Pacifica and the Chandernagore Traveler are special cases. I met some of their crewmen in Tijuana. We shared some drinks.”
“So what? You shared some drinks with some lucky men who sail guns to a tropical island where the women frolic nude.” Bexar said irritably.

“No I didn’t.” Capt. Kirk shot back. “Because those ships don’t go anywhere but French held India. And the first mate of the Chandernagore Traveler was especially happy because the Captain had just increased their pay, because he had acquired a contract guaranteeing good payment in return for four back and forth voyages from San Juan del Sur to Chandernagore. He said the contract had been negotiated by some Frenchman named Alexandre Durand d'Ubraye, which must have been special because it made his captain extremely happy.”

Bexar suddenly shot straight out of the chair and stormed out of the room. Kirk hurried to follow him, and they went right back into Soule’s office. Bexar dug around in Soule’s desk for a minute before producing a neatly folded letter. The drawer it was kept in contained a few deguerratypes, a small dagger, expensive pipe tobacco, a pistol and a handful of personal letters. All of them were from important people such as Davis and Quitman. But this one was in French and had been kept aside from the rest. Bexar looked it over for a few minutes before turning it so Kirk could get a good look at it.

“It is a thank you note and it mentions how pleased a one Alexandre Durand d’Ubraye is at the cost and quality of his goods. It goes on to praise Soule and wish his cause well.” Bexar said with as much excitement as Kirk had previously shown. He looked at the bottom of the page and let out a soft chuckle.

Right before Capt. Kirk could ask him what the last bit said Martin and Billy came back.

“Time to leave,” was the only thing Kirk heard either one of them say all night.

Kirk and Bexar quickly put the offices back as they were and then left. Once they were out of the warehouse district Kirk asked Bexar what he had found funny about the letter to Soule.

“It was the last line. It read…’And Pierre I know you will have the foresight to ensure that these affairs and this letter remain in the utmost of secrecy.’ Alas I’m afraid Monsieur Soule will be unable to obey his friend’s request.” And as he said that last bit Bexar pulled the letter from an inner coat pocket. “It’s a shame really because the letter’s author, Henri Mercier, has very good reason for wanting these affairs to remain secret.”

Benjamin

NOTES: Some times it’s just too easy to find interesting people, or people with interesting names, to include in this timeline. Captain Kirk is a fine example. I was tempted to go a bit further with this but alas the U.S.S. Enterprise, a schooner, was sold off in 1844, and the Navy would not commission another for thirty years.

I meant to have more hints as to Mr. Bexar’s identity in the actual narrative but didn’t get to it. I’ll fill in his story at a later date.

When I began this I expected more battle scenes (and more are coming) but it’s actually turning into a bit of a spy thriller. This is making research a bit harder as there are too many books to count that cover Civil War era warfare and commanders but not as many concerning the era’s international espionage efforts.

Finally, can anyone guess who Cadiz is? It’s really pretty obvious.

 

[benjamin]

A Friend in Need (September 1, 1859)

Colonel John Reynolds stirred a bit in his bed as the mourning light shown in through the curtains. Against his skin he felt the soft warmth of Collette’s naked body which made he a bit ashamed and self conscious. Her parents had been gracious enough to allow him to stay above their bakery even though they desperately needed the space for storage as the expansion of their small bakery into a full Parisian Café continued. Now he was not only taking up needed space but he was bedding their daughter, unwed to boot.

He carefully untangled his body and reluctantly crawled out from under the covers. His fumbling with the piss pot awakened the pale skinned brunette and he near shot off target as her voice startled him.

“It’s so early. Do you really have to go already?” She asked in a quiet purr.

“I’m sorry, but Governor Packer was very insistent that our meeting begin as early as possible.” Reynolds replied as he changed out of his night clothes.

Collette Guissard sat up onto her knees, letting all of the covers cascade off her body. Reynolds couldn’t turn away. He felt a bit mesmerized by the sight. When Collette leaned over to grab the front of his linen shirt he refrained from protest.

“My parents will be in Philadelphia for only one more day. I wish to get better acquainted with you before they return.” She said as she undid the buttoning he had so recently completed. “I’m sure if it’s urgent Gov. Packer will send a rider to summon you, and we will ignore the intrusion until we are very well acquainted indeed.”

An hour later Colonel John Reynolds finally exited the three story brownstone he now considered his home. In his hands were two coffees, one of which had been turned a light tan color by the addition of an absurd amount of cream, under his left arm were two loaves of freshly cooked bread and under his right arm was a new purchased book. His face carried a large smile and he hummed a bit as he walked briskly to the nearby street corner.

“My, my aren’t we in fine spirits today.” Niles said with a knowing smile.

“Yes, fine spirits indeed.” Reynolds replied ignoring what was implied in Niles’ comment. The past few months had seen the newsboy and the Colonel develop a relationship that many referred to as father-to-son like. But Niles was also a good source of information, and Reynolds had developed a respect for the boy that bordered on admiration. “I have here a loaf of fine French bread and a cup of cream that’s been joined with a dab of coffee. And this is newly arrived from a printer friend of mine in Philadelphia, its Dickens’ newest collection in novel form. I believe its entitled Little Dorrit.”

Niles took the offerings with large showing of gratitude and in turn handed Reynolds a Susquehanna Valley Post and a small soft bound book. Reynolds looked at the book and read its title, On the Verge of Enlightenment. A bit confused at first he was about to ask Niles what prompted him to give it to him, but then he saw the author’s name, Robert Ingersoll. It had been a while since Reynolds had seen the either of the Ingersoll brothers but he went of his way to follow their writings in the SV Post and elsewhere. Robert especially, had caused a stir within the abolitionist and suffragist movements.

Robert Ingersoll, Sam Clemens and a writer calling himself Freelan Tinker had recently, by way of their editorials in various papers, started a new ideology that worked both parallel to and counter to the religious foundations that many abolitionists expressed. The growing Freethinker movement espoused by these men offered up a differing argument against slavery from the traditional biblical repudiation of the institution. They claimed that one could not use the bible as weapon against slavery when portions of the bible clearly condoned the institution. Instead they had looked back towards the Enlightenment Thinkers of the mid and late 18th century for inspiration. In contrast to the Bible which was said to be the infallible word of God, human Enlightenment writers were often incorrect in their own assertions. This was only natural the new Freethinkers asserted as none of them claimed any level of divinity. Furthermore it left current philosophers, freethinkers, scientists, inventors and even theologians room to accept, correct, or expand upon Enlightenment ideology.

The Freethinker movement asserted that men like Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine had been on the right track. These men had recognized the existence of inalienable rights that all people had regardless of the written laws. These rights came not from God but from the very nature of human existence itself. Freethinkers argued that God was a human creation that grew more unnecessary as the breadth of human knowledge increased. Using the Bible or any other religious book to define morality ran the risk of overlooking the true natural rights all people were entitled to. From this line of argument came the idea that both blacks and women deserved all of the same rights and privileges that white males now enjoyed. Freethinkers were now allying with suffragettes and abolitionists to bring about reform. Some religious leaders in the North were refusing to associate with the growing Freethinker movement even when the two groups worked toward a common goal, but overall the two groups were not yet fully at odds. The same could not be said in the South where already the few Freethinkers to come forth had faced reactions ranging from derision to banishment and even jail time.

In the South a diametrically different movement had begun. In early March of 1858 a slave catcher from South Carolina named Shadrach Cartwright and his younger brother Charles were arrested in Ohio on charges of kidnapping and assault. During their six month imprisonment Charles died of cholera and Shadrach was moved to write. His first pamphlet, Southern Virtues, was taken back to Kentucky by a sympathetic constable and began publication in July. This was followed by In Defense of Dixie a month later. Once out of jail Cartwright returned to South Carolina and at the advice of ex-Governor James H. Hammond he embarked on a speaking tour of the Deep South. December saw the publication of Our Southern Struggle which was a collection of Cartwright’s speeches and pamphlets. In January Cartwright revealed that he had been visited by an angel, who he called Charael, shortly after his brother’s death. The angel told him that the Southern cause was blessed by God and slavery itself was ordained by God as part of his Divine Design.

Cartwright met with a variety of Southern religious men over the next few months including Benjamin M. Palmer, Augustus B. Longstreet and Bishop Stephen Elliot. During these meetings Cartwright argued for the formation of a unified Southern religion. In early July the book Cavaliers and Mudsills, co-written by James Henry Hammond, was published in Atlanta and Charleston simultaneously. This book further expanded upon the social theories espoused by Hammond and Longstreet, while adding in the religious ideology preached by Cartwright. Just a month and a half later the Book of Charael was published. It quickly gained great popularity throughout the aristocratic society of the Deep South. By now this so called Charaelism was being preached in churches all throughout the South and Shadrach Cartwright was being hailed by some as a prophet. Nearly all Northern churches condemned Cartwright’s writings with many calling the Book of Charael heretical.

Coming from a strict Presbyterian family Reynolds found Rational Enlightenment a bit suspect while Charaelism was nothing short of repugnant. Of course he was now bedding a Catholic woman thirteen years his junior and some of his best friends in Harrisburg were rationalists and abolitionists of the sort that his father once heaped scorn upon. It was ten days till his thirty-ninth birthday. Perhaps he would finally gather up the courage to write his family and tell them the truth about Collette.

After a quick flip through On the Verge of Enlightenment he tipped Niles and then began his walk towards the Pennsylvania capital. The streets of Harrisburg were just coming alive, and he could here the sounds of multiple trains coming from the city’s North side.

Upon reaching the capital Reynolds was given a seat outside of Governor Packer’s office. He sat for several minutes reading the SV Post before an assistant poked his head out of the conference room further down the hall. Reynolds entered the room and looked around. The weary looking Packer sat at the head of the table with Andrew Curtain to his right and to his left was the elderly Major General Robert Patterson. Reynolds also recognized the engineer and railway expert Herman Haupt along with surgeon Jonathan Letterman and Brigadier General George McCall who was still serving in the regular army. With them was a U.S. Senator from New York named William Seward. Seward stood and shook Reynolds’ hand as they were introduced.

“Sit, Colonel.” Governor Packer said breaking the silence that had fallen over the gathering. “We have a lot to discuss this mourning, and I have promise to keep to dine with some of the soldiers over at Camp Packer for a late lunch.”

“I must say Governor Packer, your hospitality has been greatly appreciated these last few days.” Senator Seward added in an effort to get the meeting moving. “Your recent speech has been very well received in New York and throughout New England. There are those who remain unconvinced that blacks have the same natural rights as whites. They have been bullied for so long by the Slave Power that they forget what the non-slave Founding Fathers had wished for this country.”

There was a murmuring of agreement around the table but the largely military crowd assembled there had little interest in radical politics.

“I have word that your state’s ongoing constitutional convention has become dominated by radicals. There are those, especially in the South, who have called upon the Federal government to intervene in the process. They claim that the Convention’s formal renunciation of the Compromise of 1850 and the Dredd Scott Decision is an act of rebellion and nullification and the governors of South Carolina, Georgia and Mississippi have all called upon President Buchanan to send troops to Harrisburg.

“Gov. Morgan along with the all the other Republican governors have signed a counter petition. It condemns Virginia’s invasion of your fair commonwealth, demands a peaceful settlement with Britain involving international arbitration and calls for a national convention to discuss the problem of slavery and sectionalism. We have every reason to believe Buchanan will ignore the entire dispatch, but we’re also submitting it to the papers in every major city. Of course it will be banned in the South but it doesn’t hurt to try.”

“The people of Pennsylvania appreciate the effort William, but I fear Mr. Buchanan has chained himself to the Slave Power. He knows he is dead in the North and the Democratic Party with him. Politically his only choice is to stay the course and hope for support from his Southern allies. I don’t believe he has any interest in running for reelection and the South doesn’t truly trust him. He is…I’m saddened to say; a broken man.” Governor Packer replied wearily. “He will finish out his term and be hated in his home state.”

“Regardless of what happens to Buchanan, Pennsylvania will soon have a new Constitution.” Andrew Curtain chimed in. “Already it is shaping up to be a rather forward looking document. Governors will have four year terms with one chance at reelection and the office of Lieutenant Governor is to be created. Blacks regain their citizenship and the right to vote which they have been denied since 1838. The Commonwealth Guard is officially established as is a state bank and associated currency.”

“So what is the hold up to ratification?’ Seward asked.

“This some argument as to state forms of taxation, whether the state should directly own or subsidize internal improvements and other such economic issues.” Packer said. “There is even a movement to relocate the capital to somewhere more centrally within the state.”

Curtain chuckled a bit at that notion before speaking.

“What the Governor fails to mention are those issues which have proven most contentious with the Assembly and the other county delegates. Senator Wade recently gave an impassioned to all of the Convention attendees. His call for work reform and women’s suffrage have many in an uproar. He’s not a Pennsylvanian, but he is well respected. Also many of the Freethinkers from Harrisburg and Philadelphia wish to remove all religious references from the proposed document.” Curtain said.

“I would imagine that could spark quite a debate.” Seward agreed. “Maine and Massachusetts are watching the Convention closely and there is the possibility that some New England states may soon hold their own Conventions. Advocates of your so called, Keystone Republicanism, are gaining strength in many key areas. I just hope we don’t see a split in the Republican Party before 1860.”

“That is all well and good.” General Patterson interjected. “But our nation has bigger problems than whether or not to give the vote to every damn person to come down the pike.”

Patterson ignored the foul looks Seward and Curtain gave him and continued on with his comments.

“At this very moment over 15,000 British regulars are massing near the northern end of Lake Champlain. They are supported by nearly 20,000 Canadians. And while they are poorly trained they will be in most cases equal to any of the militia New York or Vermont can put in the field against them. The Federal government has begun to move 10,000 men from posts east of the Mississippi towards the region. They are currently under the command of the elderly General Wool and are largely new recruits without proper training. A further 5,000 veterans from Florida and Kansas are being assembled in Washington under Brigadier General Lorenzo Thomas. When or if they will make their way to New York is anyone’s guess. Finally, there are over 10,000 men under Twiggs sitting outside of St. Louis. Gov. Bissell has refused to allow Twiggs and his largely southern command to enter Illinois and make use of its railroads and a standoff is in the making.”

“If the Army can get all of those soldiers to New York before the British move they’ll still be outnumbered by about 10,000 men.” Reynolds finally said.

“Col. Reynolds, New York and Vermont have called up over 12,000 militiamen, but I will admit that they are nothing more than a rabble.” Senator Seward said. “Several other states have pledged support from as far away as Illinois, but I doubt their regiments will arrive in time. And they too will not have seen much training.”

“That is why you’re here Col. Reynolds.” Gov. Packer began. “We have between Camp Packer, Camp William Penn, Camp Nittany and Camp Westmorland over 45,000 men nearing the completion of their initial military training. And thanks, partially to you Colonel, they have been trained to a rather high standard. Our conflict with Virginia has not been occurring in a vacuum. The nation now finds itself facing imminent war with Britain. It is a war we neither want nor can afford. But one thing is certain; if war occurs the Northern states will burn. Our soil will be invaded and our ports will be bombarded.

President Buchanan is a doughface and within the thrall of the Slave Power, but he is not a traitor. He honestly wishes to avoid war and has given Secretary Cass a free hand in negotiating with Lord Lyons. Unfortunately, the late General Harney has seemingly succeeded, and we are moving inexorably towards war. Sec. Davis has been dragging his feet and is often directly at odds with Cass’ efforts. He sends more men to Columbia to provoke a fight while claiming to deplore the idea of war. He gave command of the largest force of veterans being shipped to New York to that fire-eater Twiggs knowing full well it would anger our Northern sensibilities.

I for one do not want to have it lorded over us that the North was saved by a Southerner. Our honor demands that we handle this ourselves. If war is to come let the good men of the Northern Free States take up arms and defend our own. To this end Mister Seward I am pledging 15,000 men immediately to the defense of New York and Vermont. A further 5,000 will be ready within a month.”

General Patterson looked shocked while Seward looked grateful.

“Sir, what of our upcoming expedition?” Patterson asked.

“It will have to be handled with the 25,000 or so men uncommitted to service elsewhere.” Packer replied brushing aside Patterson’s obvious concern.

“And who will you have commanding the force going to New York?” Reynolds asked out of curiosity.

“I had hoped you would accept command. Of course a promotion to Major-General in the militia would be in order.” Gov. Packer answered. Again Patterson looked a bit shocked.

“I’m honored sir, but who would take my place at Camp Packer?”

“There is a man recently arrived in Philadelphia and on his way towards Harrisburg as we speak. He’s a veteran of both Crimea and much fighting in India, where he was badly wounded at Lucknow, but he angered far too many of his superiors. Now he’s here in Pennsylvania, and he’s agreed to take over the training of men at Camp Packer.” The governor said.

Rumor traveled faster than then the British soldier, and Reynolds suddenly realized who was making his way towards Harrisburg.

“Mister Governor, Brigadier-General James Neill murdered prisoners, disobeyed orders and allowed for the death of hundreds of civilians under his protection. Bringing him here is the height of folly. Surely there must be someone else either to lead the Pennsylvanian contingent to New York or to stay at Camp Packer.” Reynolds blurted out in a surprising display of emotion.

The ongoing Great Indian Rebellion made for popular reading in the Philadelphia newspapers given the large numbers of Indians now living in that city. The various figures involved in the fighting all had their fans and detractors. Exiled rebels cheered on the exploits of Indian fighters such as Tantya Tope, while those sympathetic to the British lionized the various commanders fighting against the rebels. But Brigadier-General Neill was hated by both groups. His vicious reprisals against locals were well known and would have been forgivable but his verbal and written attacks aimed at superior officers had not been well received. Badly injured at Lucknow he recovered and was given the task of escorting the wagon train of civilians heading away from Cawnpore. Unfortunately, he decided to take the main body of his escort force back to Cawnpore after word reached him that Campbell’s initial assault had been repulsed. In his absence his subordinates slowed the speed of their retreat and were attacked by Indian rebels. Hundreds of women and children were killed and while Neill’s attack on the Tantya Tope’s left was successful he was blamed for the so called Ganges Massacre.

Neill claimed that Havelock had issued him a direct order to return to Cawnpore with the majority of his command, but the sickly General Havelock died before he could verify Neill’s claim. Campbell and Outram quickly brought Neill up on charges of insubordination and disobeying the orders of two superior officers. Within the month Neill had been drummed out of the Army and sent back to Britain. Now nearly two years later the man was hear in Pennsylvania, and Reynolds wasn’t too happy about that.

It took Reynolds a few moments to pull himself away from his own thoughts and get back to the matter at hand. General Patterson also seemed rather upset about the situation, but his focus was on some unmentioned military operation. Reynolds had heard rumors about a planned offensive into Virginia but he had kept himself busy at Camp Packer figuring he would be let in on the details at a later date. Either way Patterson didn’t seem too happy about losing 15,000 men to be sent off to fight the British.

“Pennsylvania has its own problems.” Patterson continued. “Sending away 15,000 of our newest trainees is unacceptable. We don’t have the man power to launch the upcoming offensive, continue operations near Pittsburgh, clear York county of the Virginians and send that many men to New York.”

“I understand your concerns Gen. Patterson.” Packer replied. “But if we remain idle with regards to the defense of New York, Pennsylvania will have committed a graver sin than Virginia has done unto us. Honor demands that we do something. If that means fighting both Britain and Virginia, than so be it. I will not allow our sister Free States to be degraded and abused.”

“Where do we focus our attention then?” Patterson asked. “You’re right that we lack the man power to do everything. And sending 15,000 untrained men to face British Regulars is nothing short of murder.”

Packer put his head down into his hands and gave a long sigh. Seward also looked a bit anxious but he remained quiet. Finally Reynolds spoke up.

“Most of the Virginians are as raw as the Pennsylvanians mid way through their time at Camp Packer. Their training regimens are haphazard and organized only on the most local of levels. Regiments may have trained together but more often then not training is done at the company level. They have a fair number of veterans thanks to the recent fighting in Utah, Kansas and elsewhere. VMI has produced a number of good officers and some have seen fighting as well. Several Virginian regiments have returned from out west. They have been kept together and will most certainly be Virginia’s best fighters. Reports have come forward that two of these regiments are now in York.

That city has become a huge problem for the Virginians. The men there have refused to give up. They have been joined by hundreds of volunteers and the city is a tinder box. On the other hand Hanover is still held by a company of US Regulars under Capt. Elon J. Farnswarth of Michigan and thus off limits to Virginian forces. Like Carlisle the town has become a gathering place for refugees from throughout York County. Either way the people of central Pennsylvania are living under military rule.”

Reynolds took some time to think about the things he had said. Letting York County suffer for even one day longer pained him to contemplate, but allowing the Northeast to face the ravages of war was even more unthinkable. The United States of America stood at the brink. The Free States and the Slave States were on their on their way towards a confrontation that would test the entire nation. Reynolds was sure of that. But he was also sure that doing nothing to resist the British would bring the entire Republic to its knees. Everyone around the table seemed deep in thought so he decided to speak his mind.

“Virginia is a problem for Pennsylvania and eventually the issue of slavery must be solved once and for all. But this can not be properly done with Britain holding us by the throat. What will we tell the women and children of Pennsylvania years from now? Will we have to tell them that we turned away from our fellow Americans? Will we have to tell them that we abandoned our brothers and our neighbors? Even if it was the slave holding brutes of Virginia facing invasion I would not sit back and allow fellow Americans to be so denigrated. We have to fight in New York, and if resources permit we shall still give our fellow Virginians a poke in the eye.”

“I concur.” Gov. Packer said nodding. “Yet the fact remains sending newly trained volunteers against British Regulars is a poor decision that benefits no one but the British. So I suggest we send some veteran regiments to New York as well.”

“Several regiments that have seen fighting in York County along with the two regiments recently back from the war in Utah would make good additions.” Reynolds said as he put together in his mind how to organize his new command.

“You can have two regiments from Lancaster. They’ve seen action at York and near constant skirmishing since. Take the Carlisle Blues and the Dickenson Rifles as well. That city is safe with Buford holding the Virginians at bay. They can spare some troops. Add to that some independent companies from around the region and the two Regiments of Volunteers and you should have about 5,500 veterans.” Packer agreed. “Also I’m sending the Glen Rock Carolers with you as well. They’re itching for a fight and even though those damned Virginians deserve to catch hell I don’t want to read about another massacre in the Post, especially one perpetrated by Pennsylvanians.”

Reynolds was pleased. Not only would his command be nearly half veterans he’d have his own city’s regiments with him. He could live with that.

“I’ll start collecting my staff and giving the orders.” Reynolds said as he stood up.

“Just a second.” Packer said to Reynolds. “Senator Seward has a question for you.”

“What do you think about Indians?” Seward said before Reynolds even had the chance to sit back down.

“I have nothing against the Nabobs, Mr. Senator.” Reynolds responded a bit puzzled. “Like all men some are lazy but the majority are honest hard working folk.”

“No. Not the immigrants. Our own Indians.” Seward said with a slight chuckle. “It seems several thousand Iroquois have recently volunteered to serve in the New York militia. Gov. Morgan has refused to accept them into the ranks, but a wealthy business man from Buffalo has generously provided funds to arm, equip and provision two Indian regiments. I was hoping to find these brave men a command to serve under.”

Reynolds gave Packer a quick look and read the expression in his eyes. Over the past year the man had changed. More and more Packer viewed each and every person residing within the Commonwealth as a member of his flock. Every man, woman and child regardless of their race, religion or wealth deserved an equal chance at life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Packer’s recent speech to the State Assembly made this abundantly clear. The man’s political legacy was on the line, but Reynolds could see that the governor was a changed man. Reynolds wasn’t sure whether he completely agreed with him, but he could see a change occurring throughout the state. Slowly but surely change was coming to Pennsylvania.

“I’ll take your Indians. I’ll take Nabobs, Chinamen and even the blacks.” Reynolds said with a smile. “Hell, I’ll even take the Irish.”

Everyone at the table laughed and Reynolds once again made ready to leave. He had a lot of work to do and time was short. As he left Gov. Packer spoke to him.

“If you run into any trouble getting your command together, just remind them that you are now a Major General.”

Benjamin

NOTES: This post and the two before it are a bit out of order as the dates reveal. I hope they don’t seem too confusing but ideas come to me a bit scattershot and my original outline often gets heavily rearranged.

The name Shadrach Cartwright is in homage to the Dixie TL in GURPS Alternate Earths. His ideology/religion is a mix of James Hammond’s mudsill theory, the ideas espoused by a number of pro-slavery antebellum preachers and good old fashioned revivalism that was common during all three of America’s early Great Awakenings. Given the splits that occurred in many of the American churches over slavery I don’t think its too much of a stretch to think that a purely Southern religion could have arisen.

As some of you have probably realized Brigadier-General James Neill has survived the relief of Lucknow but the rebels perform a bit better a Cawnpore a month later. As Neill died Sept. 25, 1857 (only 14 days after the time line’s POD) his survival is less a butterfly and more of a second POD. The next post should be a time line of the Great Indian Mutiny 1857-1861 similar in style to that found in Osprey Publishing’s Essential Histories, The Indian Mutiny 1857-1858.

Britain’s response to the San Juan Crisis mirrors what really occurred during the Trent Affair. About 25,000 British Regulars are in Canada by early September of 1859. A further 15,000 are scheduled to be sent as well but the increased tensions with France and the continuing revolt in India has given rise to a vigorous debate in Parliament. Unfortunately, the Canadian militia system is in an even worse state than the militias of New York and New England so the 20,000 Canadians are not much more than an armed mob. The entire British force is under the command of General William Fenwick Williams because it looks like he was already in Canada by this point so there was no reason to change that.

The portion about the Iroquois comes directly from history…sort of. During the Civil War thousands of Iroquois Indians tried to join the Union army by forming a regiment of New York Volunteers but the governor refused to accept them. A wealthy donor offered to sponsor the Indians but to no avail. Finally, the Indians were accepted into other regiments in small bunches and many of them served with distinction. See The Iroquois in the Civil War: From Battlefield to Reservation by Laurence M. Hauptman.

 

[Grimm Reaper]

Barring a truly dramatic change or suicidal behavior on the part of Buchanan the south is at serious risk the moment Seward takes office as he will then command a much larger federal army than Lincoln did OTL.

Looks like Longstreet's rep in the south may be worse in this TL than OTL where Lee's defenders decided that the defeat at Gettysburg was all his fault.

 

[Grimm Reaper]

The Virginian disaster at Ft Ligonier would seem to require a major decision on the part of the Virginians, at least in terms of redeploying their forces.

Also the south's claim of standing for their own rights would appear to have been severely damaged in the eyes of pro-Union southerners given Virginia's actions in Pennsylvania. Perchance the vocal cries from the south are a bit shriller than OTL?

 

[benjamin]

Barring a truly dramatic change or suicidal behavior on the part of Buchanan the south is at serious risk the moment Seward takes office as he will then command a much larger federal army than Lincoln did OTL.

Looks like Longstreet's rep in the south may be worse in this TL than OTL where Lee's defenders decided that the defeat at Gettysburg was all his fault.

Yes, a larger federal army may be a problem for the South. It will all depend how its used from the 1860 election to inauguration four months later.

James Longstreet and Grant were good friends prior to the Civil War. Here they will serve together again and I'm not really sure how that will affect either one of them. Grant will not turn against the North but despite the friendship I don't really see Longstreet as fighting against the South either. But yes his rep as a Yankee Lover may have far earlier origin in this TL.

The Virginian disaster at Ft Ligonier would seem to require a major decision on the part of the Virginians, at least in terms of redeploying their forces.

Also the south's claim of standing for their own rights would appear to have been severely damaged in the eyes of pro-Union southerners given Virginia's actions in Pennsylvania. Perchance the vocal cries from the south are a bit shriller than OTL?

For Virginia the defeat at Ligonier will have major repercussions. The problem is that both sides are still unwilling to really go wild and wage a total war. With against Britain imminent Pennsylvania has made the decision to help with the defense of New York and New England. On the other hand Virginians are not yet ready to give up on the Union. Thus, they are loath to be painted in the same light as the Federalists were during the War of 1812. Honor demands that if the British invade the United States there be Virginians at hand to defend America's sacred soil. The ghost of Washington would demand nothing less.

Truth be told one of the primary reasons I have been writing this TL is to illustrate the fallacies of the Lost Cause. Readers who disagree with me can of course say..."But this is only an Alternate Timeline." And that's totally true but pretty much everything in it is based upon actual historical occurrences. The Southern idea of State's Rights only held in regards to the South's right to maintain chattel slavery. The War Between the Commonwealths is going to force Northerners and Southerners alike (especially the type of fence-sitters who voted for Douglas and Bell) to take a long hard look at their own beliefs and loyalties.

The conflict between Virginia and Pennsylvania is a giant slap in the face for the undecided majority that existed in OTL pre-Civil War years.

Benjamin

 

[benjamin]

Chronology of the Great Indian Rebellion (from September 1857 to July 1861)

1857
4 September: Seige train, proceeding from the Punjab, arrives in the British camp outside Delhi

14 September: Wilson begins assault on Delhi

19 September: Havelock and Outram advance on Lucknow

20 September: Delhi completely cleared of mutineers

23 September: Nicholson, mortally wounded by a musket shot during the assault of the 14th, dies

25 September: First relief of the Residency at Lucknow by Havelock and Outram; garrison is enlarged, but remains under siege; Brigadier James Neill wounded by a musket ball during the final advance*

14 – 17 November: Second relief of the Residency at Lucknow by Campbell; Brigadier Neill begins his written attacks on the behaviors of Campbell and Outram

19 – 27 November: Evacuation of Lucknow; garrison left at the Alambagh; Campbell marches on Cawnpore, which the rebels have re-occupied after Havelock’s departure

24 November: Neill relegated to escorting the evacuated civilians

26 – 27 November: Tantia Topi and the Gwalior Contingent defeat Major-General Windham in second battle of Cawnpore

28 – 30 November: Campbell reaches Cawnpore to join Windham

6 December: Tantia Topi repulses Campbell’s first assault; Havelock sends word back to Neill requesting reinforcements (The exact wording of Havelock’s orders to Neill are hotly debated as there are no known surviving copies of the order.)

12 December: Neill’s cavalry attacks the rebel left; Campbell renews his own attack; Tantya Tope withdraws in good order; Havelock dies of dysentery

13 December: The evacuating civilians are attacked and hundreds are killed; Nana Sahib recovers his treasury from the well

16 December: Neill is blamed for the massacre

17 December: Campbell has Neill arrested

20 December: Neill is found guilty, stripped of his rank and sent back to England

1858
16 January: Major-General Sir Hugh Rose begins campaign in central India

February: Campbell opens separate campaign for reconquest of Oudh

3 February: Rose relieves Saugor after seven month siege

2 March: Campbell commences operations against Lucknow

11 – 21 March: Assault and capture of Lucknow; rebels escape westward

22 March: Rose invests fortified city of Jhansi

April: Campbell begins pacification of Oudh and Rohilkand

1 April: Dividing his force, Rose defeats a numerically superior rebel army under Tantya Tope near the river Betwa

6 April: Rose, very sick from heat exhaustion, captures Jhansi but the Rani of Jhansi escapes to Kalpi

15 April: Major-General Walpole’s column disastrously repulsed attempting to take the fort at Ruiya

5 May: Campbell defeats rebel force at Bareilly

7 May: Rose fights to a draw against a large rebel force under Tantya Tope and the Rani of Jhansi at Kunch; Rose suffers badly from heat stroke

20 May: 2,000 reinforcements sent to Rose by Campbell delayed on the south bank of Jumna by rebel cavalry under the Nawab of Banda

22 – 30 May: Rebel force led by Tantya Tope surrounds and besieges Rose’s command; Rani of Jhansi oversees evacuation of people and supplies from Kalpi to Gwalior

27 May: Nawab of Banda is captured; he is executed two days later

30 May: 1,500 men and three guns reach Rose from Campbell’s relief force

1 – 3 June: Rose launches a breakout as Tantya Tope is withdrawing; three days of disorganized fighting leaves both sides in disarray

4 June: British forces capture Kalpi but find it empty

5 June: Tantya Tope, Rani of Jhansi and Rao Sahib decide to fortify Gwalior Fort and prepare for a long siege

6 June: Rose, sick and near death, halts his exhausted command for over a month to regroup and await reinforcements

15 – 30 June: Thousands rally to the Rani of Jhansi and make their way to Gwalior

22 June: Tanty Tope takes command of a large rebel army outside of Gwalior while the Rani of Jhansi remains to oversee the defense of the fort

30 June: American missionaries John Newton and Charles Newman meet with a collection of Indian leaders and agree assist them in leaving the war zones of India

1 August: Rao Sahib secretly leaves Gwalior in an effort to find Nana Sahib

2 August: Queen Victoria approves bill transferring control of India from the East India Company to the Crown

10 August: Reinforced by 2,500 regulars and 5,000 natives Rose moves to besiege Gwalior

22 August: Newton and Newman meet with Governor-General Canning and negotiate an agreement allowing thousands of Indians to flee to America

24 August: Parliament agrees to send a further 15,000 regulars to India

20 September: Rose receives 8,000 further reinforcements which are made a separate command under Robert Napier

September – November: Sporadic further uprisings throughout central India are suppressed by Napier’s “Camel Column”; Tantya Tope’s force is able elude Napier and Hope Grant but is much reduced in size

September 23: First of what will be tens of thousands of Indians are exiled to the US as per the Second Napier-Cass Agreement

November 28: Gwalior finally falls; Hope Grant badly injured but recovers after losing his lower left leg; Rani of Jhansi reportedly killed

December 24: News of the fall of Gwalior arrives in London, Queen Victoria declares it the greatest of Christmas Gifts

December 25: Queen Victoria offers a general amnesty in India for all but the most “loathsome ringleaders”

1859
13 January: Campbell begins his pursuit of Tantya Tope’s rebel army

12 February: A portion of Campbell’s force is ambushed near Jabalpur with over 1,000 soldiers killed

19 February: Canning sends a letter to Queen Victoria proclaiming the rebellion to be “effectively over.”

23 February: Indigo farmers begin peaceful strike against plantation owners

3 March: Major-General Hugh Rose leaves India with the China Field Force

18 March: Major-General Hope Grant departs India and goes to Australia

April: Brutal suppression of the Indigo Strike around Murshidabad leads to armed resistance

18 April: First shipment of American made rifles reach the Indigo Rebels

May: Tantya Topi halts his retreat towards Nepal; begins to move his army eastward

6 May: America dispatches several regiments to China

17 May: Indigo Rebels capture Berhampore

20 May: Siege of Murshidabad begins; Over 10,000 British regulars leave India to reinforce British Isles

11 June: Tantya Topi wins Battle of Kosi River

23 June: Campbell meets with Canning who implores him to “…bring the Revolt to a conclusion both swiftly and severely.”

28 June: Tantya Tope captures Titalya

4 July: Murshidabad falls to the rebels; thousands of unarmed prisoners and civilians are murdered, over 1,500 bodies are left hanging along the road to Berhampore

6 July: Rebels in Titalya issue the Proclamation of Independence

19 July: Tantya Tope advances down the road toward Calcutta; his army has grown to over 50,000

20 July: Hope Grant arrives in the Pacific Northwest

27 – 29 July: Rebel army under Bakht Khan wins the most decisive victory yet against the British; Battle of Baniganj sees 35,000 rebels defeat 25,000 Regulars and loyal sepoys; Both Bakht Khan and Brigadier John Michel are mortally wounded, many of the nearly 1,000 rebels are found to be armed with American made Sharps carbines

31 July: Uprisings begin in Dum Dum and Barrackpur

2 August: British begin evacuating English civilians from Calcutta

10 August: Tantya Tope’s river borne capture of Fureedpore cuts Calcutta of from Burma

12 August: Rebel cavalry destroy large portions of the East Indian Railway

24 August: Campbell’s victory at Midnapore allows him to reinforce Calcutta

14 September: Bombing in Strasbourg kills the French foreign minister along with 32 others

18 September: Dum Dum is cleared of rebels; Lord Lyons is informed of the secretive origins of the Sharps carbines

20 September: A large warehouse fire in New Orleans ruins Soret & Company Global as well as S.Q.B. & L Limited

21 September: British forces embark down Lake Champlain

23 September – 12 December: Transatlantic Telegraph brought into service; called the “80 Day Miracle” it fails after 80 days

24 September: Royal Marines bloodlessly capture Plattsburgh, NY

26 September: Barrackpur cleared of rebels; French in Chandernagore refuse to assist the British

27 September: Lord Lyons and Secretary of State Cass sign the Treaty of Reading

29 September: In America the Second Battle of Fort Ticonderoga is narrowly avoided

1 November: Two of the people suspected of planning the Strasbourg bombing flee to Genoa and book passage to London

19 November: Britain turns the Alsace fugitives over to French authorities and although a Anglo-French War is averted tensions remain.

24 November: US and British soldiers in New Westminster share a “Thanksgiving dinner” together to celebrate the Treaty of Reading; Famous painting The Two Grants is painted by Clifford Satterthwaite; Great Britain declares war on France

26 November: New York Governor offers to allow British forces to disembark from New York Harbor to return to Britain

27 November: Irish immigrants in New York begin to riot; Hope Grant begins process to transfer his forces back to India

29 November: Governor Packer allows British troops to depart from Philadelphia

6 December: First British soldiers depart from Philadelphia; Gen. Richard J. Meade raises the siege of Burdwan and crushes Second Santhal Rebellion

8 December: Campbell is badly injured in a horsing accident

13 December: Campbell dies

1860
10 January: French Chandernagore contingent allies with Tanty Tope

23 – 24 January: Barrackpur retaken by French and rebel forces

15 February: James Hope Grant arrives in Calcutta

18 March: Grant promoted over Meade to command all forces in Bengal

31 March: Grant begins his advance northward along the road to Titalya

April: Tantya Tope moves west to link up with scattered uprisings in Central Europe; rumors claim the Rani of Jhansi is leading these rebellions

10 April: British retake Barrackpur

11 April: Chandernagore falls to the British

17 April: British besiege Berhampore

23 April: Berhampore captured, several hundred rebels are executed

25 April: First pictures of the bloody remains of the Berhampore Massacre are taken

29 April: Canning unilaterally rescinds the offer of general amnesty

30 April: Rebel garrison from Murshidabad sally forth to engage the British

May: Tantya Tope occupies Dinapur and Arrah

1 – 3 May: Battle of Murshidabad crushes the rebel garrison; no quarter is given by either side

May – July: Grant and Meade clear the Baniganj-Fureedpur-Murshidabad Triangle of rebel forces

2 June: Tantya Tope’s army besieges Benares

10 – 20 July: Tantya Tope ends his siege of Benares and moves his army back towards Murshidbad by way of the Ganges

21 – 23 July: Second Battle of Plassey sees Grant and Meade crush Tantya Tope’s army despite being outnumber 37,000 to 22,000

22 July: Pondicherry captured by the British

August: Grant pursues Tantya Tope’s defeated army through west Bengal

24 – 25 August: Grant catches Tantya Tope’s along the south bank of the Ganges; Royal Engineers blow the bridges trapping bulk of the rebel army; less than 4,000 rebels escape across the river, thousands are killed as they try to surrender

2 September: Grant begins his advance towards Titalya

12 September: British forces reach the outskirts of Titalya

13 September: Grant meets with Digambar Biswas to negotiate the surrender of the city, no agreement is reached

15 September: Biswas hands eighteen rebel leaders over to the British for trial

30 September: Biswas is assassinated and factional fighting erupts within Titalya

3 – 6 October: Jhalkaribai leads a moderate faction that restores order

October – December: Grant retains a lose siege on Titalya; Meade and other commanders capture all the remaining French outposts in India; the last rebellions in Central India and along the Ganges River valley are suppressed; Brigadier William Parke doggedly pursues Tantya Tope but is unable to capture him

1861
2 January: Canning demands that Grant end the stalemate at Titalya

9 January: Grant sends a letter to Jhalkaribai offering a modified amnesty plan for the nearly 50,000 people besieged at Titalya; it offers a fair military trial for everyone with execution for those found guilty of murder or rape and two years hard labor plus relocation for everyone else as well as swearing an oath to the British Crown, otherwise the city will be razed; 72 hours are given for a reply

10 January: Construction begins on the Trans-Indian Railroad from Calcutta to Bombay by way of Delhi

11 January: Influenced by Anglican missionaries Grant modifies the offer to allow for transportation to America instead of hard labor

13 January: Jhalkaribai agrees to the offer just moments before the deadline

15 January – 10 March: The Trial of Titalya; of the 63,243 people tried only 234 are found guilty; 47,788 people choose transportation to America over hard labor and relocation

March: Tantya Tope and several hundred followers make it into Nepal

27 March: After threatening war, British forces under Meade are allowed to enter Nepal

10 April: Tantya Tope is captured in Nepal

18 April: Tantya Tope is executed bringing a final end to the Great Indian Rebellion

20 July: Bowing to pressure that the sentence of hard labor is too much like slavery Queen Victoria pardons the Titalya laborers

* Everything prior to the wounding of Brigadier Neill comes from…
Fremont-Barnes, Gregory. The Indian Mutiny 1857-1858. Essential Histories, Osprey Publishing Ltd.; Oxford, 2007. pp. 12-13.

Other portions following the Point-of-Divergence also come from that source except where of course they are allohistorical.

Benjamin

NOTES: I’m pretty weak on Indian history so if any of this seems too crazy let me know. Basically I’ve strengthened the Mutiny a bit and tied it to the Indigo Revolt. The farmers in the Indian revolt are receiving arms from France paid for by portions of Nana Sahib’s treasury. France is getting the guns, Sharps carbines to be exact, from Soule. Soule like Harney before him wants an Anglo-American War.

I’ve included a number of events that aren’t directly part of the Great Indian Rebellion. These are generally events that affect the war in India in some manner. Some of these events are spoilers, but without them the TL would make little sense

SECOND NOTES: I edited this a bit. I ended up keeping the portion where Niell survives and then goes to the United States. BUT I removed the Anglo-French War and the unrealistic Indian National Congress. Either way the Indian Mutiny ITTL is longer, more costly and a bigger distraction for Britain. There are of course some spoilers in this mini-TL that I was tempted remove but they were already out there so I left them in. Now after this little diversion I shall return to the primary portion of the War of the Two Commonwealths.

 

[benjamin]

I've got to say I'm not real happy with portions of this TL. I think I'm going to retcon portions of it, especially the Anglo-French War, portions of the Great Indian Mutiny as well as other portions relating to events outside of the U.S. The main reason for this is so that I can focus on events in America without becoming bogged down in foreign events and such. Yes, there will still be changes in European history and some major butterflies but they will remain peripheral to the story.

I do think a time line in which there is a major European war concurrent with the American Civil War but not directly related to it would be interesting, but that's for a different time line.

So some of the past posts might get a bit rewritten, but until then I plan to continue the main narrative.

Any thoughts or comments?

Benjamin

 

[Grimm Reaper]

Didn't the Indian Mutiny end years before the ACW?