Britannia's Fist: From Civil War to World War: An Alternate History (27 page)

While they were speaking, Sharpe had taken Halleck aside. “May I make an impertinent suggestion, General?”

Halleck’s protruding eyes stared briefly at him, disconcerting as ever. “Of course, General.” Whatever else Halleck was, he was a military
politician and had seen the favor Lincoln had bestowed on Sharpe, the only other uniformed officer who was a regular at cabinet meetings.

“I would suggest that a brigade at least might be usefully sent to Maine as well.”

“But you reported no British concentrations against New England.”

“Yes, I know, but prudence is a goddess who must be honored even by the boldest commander. I am worried about all the attention they have been paying to Maine.”

Halleck realized he could have it both ways—play up to a presidential favorite and take out some strategic insurance. “Good suggestion. Yes, a brigade should be enough. I’ll see to it tomorrow morning.”

“One more thing, General. May I also suggest that all the Maine regiments be sent? Announce that only three regiments are going, but send them all—horse, foot, and artillery. The 20th Maine saved the Army at Little Round Top. It would help the President politically if we could send those heroes home for a while. Col. Joshua Chamberlain is very popular up there right now. They could even do some recruiting. God knows that Maine bled at Gettysburg.”
¹³

It was as good as done.

The Confederacy’s mighty right arm had arrived on the battlefield of Chickamauga—“the Creek of Death” to those who fought there—on the second day of the fighting. Lt. Gen. James Longstreet was a big-bearded, burly man on a big horse, as befitted the man whom Lee called his “Old Warhorse.” He commanded the First Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia, the strongest offensive organization in American history. Longstreet and two of his divisions had been rushed by rail to the aid of the defeat-haunted Braxton Bragg and his Army of Tennessee to save them from another thrashing by Maj. Gen. William Rosecrans’s Army of the Cumberland. The first day of the battle had been fought without him. His troops were still detraining on that day and force marching to the field. Rosecrans had been warned by Sharpe to expect Longstreet’s reinforcement. He had taken the news seriously, but the intelligence staff that Sharpe had installed was too new to catch wind of Longstreet’s presence. Even had they been more experienced, Longstreet arrived with such speed that it would have taken a miracle for that news to have run ahead of him. In that light, Rosecrans thought he was lucky to finally
force Bragg to fight before his reinforcements had arrived. He was in for a big surprise.
¹⁴

Bragg’s men felt Longstreet’s presence immediately. One lieutenant remarked, “Longstreet is the boldest and bravest-looking man I ever saw. I don’t think he would dodge if a shell were to burst under his chin.”

As Longstreet coiled his corps for its strike, he was taken aback by the volume of fire that was coming from Wilder’s Lightning Brigade almost a half mile away, and “thought for a moment that a fresh Federal corps had come crashing down on his left.”
¹⁵

Almost at once, his puncher’s practiced eye observed the main chance opening up before him and seized it. A Union division pulled out of the line before its replacement was at hand. A wide gap yawned, and Longstreet threw the divisions of Hood and McLaws into it. The rebel yells that had flown over so many victorious fields in Virginia now echoed across the thickets and woods of Tennessee. Two Union divisions were driven back as Longstreet’s men severed the Union battle line, and like a back-broke bull, that line collapsed. For the first time in the war, an experienced and valiant field army had been struck such a blow that it dissolved as Homer’s “Godsent Panic seized them, comrade to bloodcurdling rout,” and sent the men in blue in flight toward the railroad hub of Chattanooga.
¹⁶

Amid that rout was Maj. James Callaway. On the first day of the fighting, his brigade commander had relieved the incompetent commander of the 81st Indiana and put Callaway in his place. His presence on the demoralized unit was electric. He was truly charismatic—soldiers were drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet and his determination flowed out to them. All through the first day he led the newly emboldened Hoosiers of the 81st to become the fighting heart of their brigade. As other units fell under the enemy’s sledgehammer blows, the 81st stuck it out and poured such fire into the attacking Confederates that their regiments melted away. Again on the second day, the concentrated fire of the 81st broke every attack.

As soon as my battalion front was unmasked by the skirmishers we opened a terrible and deadly fire upon the advancing foe. The firing was continued with unabated fury on both sides, the enemy steadily advancing and our men determinedly resisting until but 3 men of the enemy’s first line and about half of his second line were standing; their comrades apparently
had fallen in windrows and his farther progress seemed checked, perhaps, impossible.
¹⁷

It was all for nothing. The flanking regiment, his own 21st Illinois, folded and broke. The Confederates were through and lapping around Callaway’s men. He pulled out just before the whole regiment was captured. Callaway reformed his men and, with the brigade commander, gathered up every man they could to put back into the fight. They made stand after stand before falling back. At last, he wrote, “we then withdrew from the field quietly and sullenly with every regimental color and field piece of the brigade.…”
¹⁸

Rosecrans and his corps commanders were swept away in the panic, all except Maj. Gen. George Thomas, who rallied his corps for the terrible rearguard defense of Snodgrass Hill. Again and again the Confederate waves struck the hill, each time seeming to crest it, but each time falling back in wreckage and ruin. Thomas held on and would not budge all that terrible day, earning himself the immortal title of the “Rock of Chickamauga.” That honor would have meant nothing if Bragg had not obsessed about overwhelming Thomas instead of sending his army in pursuit. His corps commanders, Longstreet chief among them, begged him to pursue the enemy. They “produced a Confederate soldier who had been captured and then had escaped. He had seen the Federal disarray for himself and was brought before Bragg to testify that the enemy was indeed in full retreat. Bragg would not accept the man’s story. ‘Do you know what a retreat looks like?’ he asked acidly. The soldier stared back and said, ‘I ought to, General; I’ve been with you during your whole campaign.’”
¹⁹

Winslow’s deception of sailing north through the Irish Sea and the Northern Channel to the North Atlantic had had its risks, and one of them had given
Kearsarge
away. While most of the pursuing British ships sent in pursuit followed his false start to the southeast through the St. George Channel, which connected the Irish Sea south to the Atlantic, he had been passed by a Liverpool steamer.
Kearsarge
had been flying false colors, the French tricolor, but the skipper of the steamer knew a Frenchman when he saw one. He also knew battle damage when he saw it. He stopped a few hours later at Stranraer, a ferry port in southwest Scotland, where the telegraph had brought the news of Moelfre Bay and ignited a firestorm
of anger. From there, the captain’s news sped south on the telegraph to London. Almost immediately upon receipt, the nearest Royal Navy warships were alerted and ordered in pursuit. Winslow had calculated that the northern route would encounter the fewest British warships; their bases were largely in the south and east of Britain. The odds were with him but luck was not. Coaling in Stranraer was the HMS
Undaunted
, a wood screw frigate of the same class as
Liverpool
. She was new, built in 1861; big at 4,020 tons; and fast, and she mounted fifty-one guns. Her captain did not wait for specific orders and put to sea at once. Captain and crew were out for blood.
²⁰

The captain shrewdly guessed that his prey would strike directly for New York, hoping to outrace news of the battle. He crowded on sail and ordered the engines at full speed. On September 12 he caught up with
Kearsarge
. When she was identified, the crew burst into cheers as the drums beat to quarters. Winslow’s lookout had seen
Undaunted
almost at the same time. Battle stations were sounded. Lamson joined Winslow on the quarterdeck and extended his telescope.

“Looks just like
Liverpool
. And she is not blissfully ignorant of who we are. That ship is straining every plank to close with us.”

Winslow lowered his own glass. “One British frigate is enough. It took the two of us and some luck to take
Liverpool
. I won’t risk another fight with such a big ship.”

Lamson felt a twinge of disappointment, but Winslow precluded any impertinent suggestions to stay and fight by slamming his telescope shut. “We are going to run away. The Navy will need this ship.”

Running away was easier said than done.
Kearsarge
’s sails and engines gave it their all and began to lengthen the distance between them, but in a few hours it was apparent that the
Undaunted
was faster and would eventually close to within cannon shot. By September 15,
Undaunted
’s forward 110-pounder pivot gun fired its first shot, which fell well astern of
Kearsarge
. An hour later, her second shot struck only a hundred yards short. The next shell struck the sternpost and blew it to pieces.

Splinters from the impact blew out and up to fall on the quarterdeck. Winslow ordered the helmsman, “Hard about!” To his executive officer, Lt. Cdr. William Thornton, he said, “We will rake her, Mr. Thornton. Aim for her waterline. We must slow her down.”

Excitement ran through the officers and gun crews of both ships as the
Kearsarge
turned. Hardly had the
Kearsarge
come round before the
Undaunted
sheered, presented her starboard battery, and slowed her engines. At long range of about a mile, the British ship opened her full broadside, the shot cutting some of
Kearsarge
’s rigging and going over and alongside her. Immediately Winslow ordered more speed, but in less than two minutes
Undaunted
loaded and fired another broadside and followed it with a third but to little effect.
Kearsarge
was now within about nine hundred yards. So far, distance had prevented the rapid British broadsides from crippling the American.

“Fire!”
Kearsarge
’s starboard battery erupted. The XI-inch 5-second-fused shells crashed into
Undaunted
’s waterline to explode inside. The Marines manning the 28-pounder rifle dropped a shell onto
Undaunted
’s quarterdeck while the crew of the small Dahlgren howitzer spewed shrapnel on the main deck.
Kearsarge
’s guns were firing at will, pumping more shells into the enemy’s waterline. Winslow sheered away, intending to break off the action and resume his course, but the
Undaunted
sent a powerful broadside into his ship. One of his 32-pounders was struck by two of the
Undaunted
’s 32-pound shot with a great resounding clang of metal on metal. A powder charge exploded in the crewman’s hands, upending the gun and sending it spinning through the crew, reducing them to bloody rag dolls.

Kearsarge
’s engines throbbed as the ship found its running legs.
Undaunted
was slow to follow and gradually fell behind. Winslow could only assume his guns had done their work. He was right. The XI-inch Dahlgren shells had blown jagged holes in
Undaunted
’s hull. Water was pouring through and began filling the hold. Her carpenters swarmed to plug them with canvas and wooden braces. The Marine gunners had wounded
Undaunted
as well. Their shells on the enemy’s quarterdeck had shattered the wheel and killed the captain. The ship’s executive officer assumed command and threw every effort into saving the ship.
²¹

Winslow breathed more easily as the enemy’s sail grew smaller and smaller. His relief was premature. The
Undaunted
had barely been lost to sight when the wounded ship was overtaken by the main pursuit squadron consisting of the frigates HMS
Topaze
and
Dauntless
and sloops
Alert
and
Gannet. Undaunted
gave them
Kearsarge
’s course, and they leapt in pursuit. They were under the command of the senior captain, John Welbore Sunderland Spencer of the
Topaze
.

In two days the smoke from their funnels was visible from
Kearsarge
’s topsail. On the third day the ships were visible from the quarterdeck. On the fourth day it was clear that they had spread out to sweep
the American into a closing net. Winslow drove his ship into a late summer storm that tossed it through heavy seas and driving rain. He changed course to the southeast as the storm moved in that direction. On the sixth day
Kearsarge
broke out of the storm into clear weather with none of his pursuers in sight. He resumed course for New York. On the eighth day four plumes of smoke again appeared behind him. This time the lookouts also spotted two plumes ahead of them. “I think company would be a good idea about now,” Winslow muttered to himself. If they were British, it was unlikely they had heard of Moelfre Bay so far out; if they were not British, he might be able to hide among them or use them as a decoy. He needed one more break; they were only four days’ sailing time from New York and the safety of its harbor forts. He did not think the invisible barrier of American maritime jurisdiction would stop them.

By the morning of the ninth day, September 21, the two ships ahead of him were seen to be flying the St. Andrew’s cross, Russian naval colors.
Kearsarge
fired off a salute and hailed them. They were the Imperial Russian Navy screw frigates
Aleksandr Nevksy
and
Peresvet
. They were very impressive, large ships of a very American design, which was not surprising since Russia bought many ships from the United States and followed its shipbuilding advances. Large and well-armed, the 5,100-ton
Nevsky
carried fifty-one smoothbore guns, almost making her a ship of the line, and the
Peresvet
bore forty-four. All the guns in both ships were powerful 60-pounders, cast in Philadelphia, another sign of close Russo-American cooperation.
²²