Britannia's Fist: From Civil War to World War: An Alternate History (28 page)

Read Britannia's Fist: From Civil War to World War: An Alternate History Online

Authors: Peter G. Tsouras

Tags: #Imaginary Histories, #International Relations, #Great Britain - Foreign Relations - United States, #Alternative History, #United States - History - 1865-1921, #General, #United States, #United States - History - Civil War; 1861-1865, #Great Britain, #United States - Foreign Relations - Great Britain, #Political Science, #War & Military, #Fiction, #Civil War Period (1850-1877), #History

Adm. Stefan Lisovsky flew his pennant aboard the
Nevsky
, the flagship of the Russian Navy. The Czar had not sent such a ship lightly. Lisovsky greeted Winslow enthusiastically and invited him aboard. His eagerness to see the Americans was flavored by his curiosity to find out how they had acquired the visible battle damage. Perhaps they had encountered the infamous
Alabama
. In any case, it would be a good way to begin his goodwill visit to the United States.

His curiosity spiked when he saw the young civilian with his arm in a sling being lowered into
Kearsarge
’s boat along with the captain’s party. He gave orders to prepare a more comfortable hoist for the wounded man to save him the pain of climbing up the ship’s ladder thrown over the side. As a special courtesy he was on the quarterdeck to receive his guests when they came aboard. When Winslow stepped aboard the boatswains’ whistles piped and an honor guard of Russian naval infantry presented arms. Winslow saluted the flag and the admiral who
returned the salute and extended his hand. Winslow introduced his party, and Lisovsky introduced his officers. The admiral was clearly interested in young Adams, not only as private secretary of the American ambassador to the Court of St. James, but as the grandson and great-grandson of presidents. He came as close to royalty as Lisovsky would find in America. Adams was still in pain from his injury but laid on the charm. Lamson was more reserved, but Lisovksy sized him up quickly as a formidable officer. Winslow was gratified that the entire conversation was held in English, but came quickly to the point. The British ships were closing with every minute.

There were gasps from the Russian officers as they listened to the account of Moelfre Bay and the sinking of two Royal Navy warships and the encounter with
Undaunted
. As shocking as the story was, the stock of the Americans had clearly soared. There was not a Russian naval officer who did not dream of avenging the Royal Navy’s humiliation of the Russian Imperial Navy in the Crimean War.

Lisovsky was no less impressed, but he had other matters to consider. Lisovsky was a man of the world, and his life in the Russian Navy had exposed him to some of the seamier sides of that world. The Czar has chosen him for his sense of things beyond his naval duties. The enormity of the tale that Winslow unfolded stunned him. My God, he thought, I’m sailing into a war. His instructions had been clear: he was to take no part in the American Civil War on the part of the U.S. government, and he was to make no overt statement as to a Russo-American alliance directed against Britain and France. Such discussion was the duty of the Baron Stoeckel, the Czar’s ambassador in Washington. While in the United States, Lisovsky was to be guided by Stoeckel’s political instructions. However, and this was an enormous “however,” Lisovsky bore sealed orders that he was to open should the United States be attacked by any foreign power or should such a power openly side with the Confederacy.
23

Winslow was clearly in trouble. He was asking Lisovsky’s help to avoid the British. The admiral knew that a misstep could drag Russia into the inevitable war Moelfre Bay would ignite. Yet he had speculated long and hard on his sealed orders and what they might be. He knew he was a pawn in the greatest game of all as Winslow said, “I beg your assistance, sir. They will overhaul me in less time than it will take for me to reach the safety of New York.”

Adams added, “My government would consider your assistance to be the ultimate proof of his Imperial Majesty’s regard for the United
States. I am fully acquainted with the correspondence between our governments. I have been present at my father’s side when he and your ambassador in London have discussed the importance of a Russo-American common front in the face of British world hegemony. Your ambassador has stated in the clearest terms that those are the very objectives of his Imperial Majesty’s government as well. And now, sir, may I observe that the cause of our common interest will be upon us shortly.”

Winslow suggested that the Russians would help greatly by staying between
Kearsarge
and her pursuers. Lisovsky thought quickly and smiled, “I think we can do better than that, Captain. I propose that you sail with my ships. I will escort you into port, as, shall we say, an exercise of the first law of the sea—to aid those in distress.” He gave a sidelong glance to
Kearsarge
. “Your gallant ship is obviously in danger of floundering from its wounds. We cannot leave you alone. His Imperial Majesty would never forgive me. Besides, my officers and I cannot wait to hear every detail of how you bearded the British lion in his own den.”
24

CHATHAM ARCH, INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA, 8:37
PM
, SEPTEMBER 22, 1863

Capt. John Hines thought about Col. George Grenfell’s description of the man to whom he had just been introduced, Lt. Col. Pitt Rivers, late assistant quartermaster of the British garrison of Ireland: “a man of fierce temper, not untinged with violence, of considerable energy and enthusiasm, unsociable with his peers, a domestic tyrant and yet approachable to his labourers, a dominant and aloof father in the grand… manner, though possessing a dry sense of humor.”
25

Rivers was a man of complete self-assurance, as befitted an Englishman among lesser beings. He was about thirty-six and in his prime. As master of ordnance at an early age, he had been instrumental in the trials that led to the adoption of the Enfield rifle for the British Army. In the grand Victorian style, he was also a world-class archaeologist. He was above all a fighting man, brevetted and mentioned in dispatches for distinguished service in the Crimea. He had come over to Canada with the wave of reinforcements during the crisis of the Trent Affair in late 1861. Six months later he had been ordered to Ireland, his chief duty to ferret out the Fenian conspiracies. Those conspiracies spanned the Atlantic now and had drawn him back to North America. Wolseley had had “additional duties” for him, the cause of his presence in this modest hotel in this modest provincial city.

The only other man in the room was Col. George Grenfell St. Ledger, late of Her Majesty’s Army and a soldier of fortune. Grenfell was the sort of antagonist a novelist would have portrayed—“At sixty-two years of age he was still an impressive figure of romance. Slightly under six feet, with light blue eyes and shoulder-length white hair setting off a face darkened by the sandstorms of the Sahara and the winds of the Mediterranean, he had the personal appearance of a Brian de Bois-Gilbert in
Ivanhoe
,” as the Confederate cavalry general Basil Duke would say. An aristocratic black sheep, he had run off at an early age to join the French Chasseurs d’Afrique, fight against and then with the Moors against the French, scour Riffian pirates from the approaches to Gibralter, and join Garibaldi in his struggle for Italian independence. The lure of the American Civil War broke his only attempt at retired country life. Jefferson Davis had been glad to commission him a colonel and make him Bragg’s inspector general.
26
With the Morgan fiasco still fresh, he had asked Grenfell for less conventional assistance. Grenfell had slipped through the Union states and into Canada, where he had made contact with Wolseley and laid Davis’s proposals before him.

Wolseley had made the very clear point that Grenfell’s proposals could not possibly be contemplated by Her Majesty’s armed forces, but he was interested in a general, exploratory discussion of a completely unofficial kind. In the meantime, the news of Moelfre Bay and the Union disaster at Chickamauga had shifted the ground from under every party. It was a new game, with a new urgency redolent with opportunity.
27

WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, D.C., 9:05
AM
, SEPTEMBER 24, 1863

Nothing but bad news was coming from Chattanooga and the trapped Army of the Cumberland. Stanton had sent Charles Dana there to be his eyes and ears, and Dana was sending back a stream of encrypted messages emphasizing the increasingly hopeless nature of the situation and the failure of its commander.

It was obvious to Stanton that Rosecrans needed reinforcements immediately. The XI Corps, especially, and the XII Corps of the Army of the Potomac could use a train ride now, he thought. The former was in especially bad odor among Meade’s men. That relief force needed a man who could command an independent small army. It also needed a man who was burning with the desire to retrieve a failed reputation. The name
of Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker slipped into his mind. Hooker was on inactive status in New York. He was a superlative organizer and leader. No man was more suited by experience and ability to grasp this nettle. After Chancellorsville, he had much to prove.

Stanton consulted Lincoln, who assented, commenting, “I expect Joe now knows the difference between where his headquarters and his hindquarters go.” The order went out that day. “Major General Hooker, U.S. Volunteers, will assume command of XI and XII Corps.”
28

NEW YORK HARBOR, 10:14
AM
, SEPTEMBER 24, 1863

Cannon fire echoed across the Verrazano Narrows between Staten Island and Brooklyn and up over the docks and streets of Manhatten Island. Word flew from mouth to mouth that the Confederate rams and the British were attacking New York. Work stopped as everyone in the great American metropolis rushed into the streets for news or climbed to the roofs to look into the harbor at the unfolding battle.

Admiral Lisovsky had assumed too much on the prudence of the British admiral in pursuit of the
Kearsarge
when he offered to escort her to New York. The Admiralty’s orders were direct and ruthless—sink or capture the
Kearsarge
. “Pursue her to the ends of the earth and into any harbor in which she seeks refuge.” With the zeal and intrepidity of a young Nelson, that officer had caught up with Winslow and Lisovsky only hours from the Hudson’s mouth and immediately engaged when it became clear the Russians were trying to protect the American sloop. Lisovsky was surprised when the first British ranging shot plunged off the
Nevsky
’s larboard quarter, but he already has his crew at battle stations. Lisovsky wanted to avoid a decisive engagement and hold his ships in being as commerce raiders in case of war between Russia and Britain. Flee as he might, the British hung on his ships and
Kearsarge
, pursuing them with a hail of blows into the Hudson’s broad mouth and up the river. The British captains had never seen their crews handle their guns with such speed and precision, and this was in a navy second to none in the smooth and deadly efficiency of its gun drills. It was only a matter of time before the Royal Navy inflicted another humiliation on the Czar’s ships in desperation to take the
Kearsarge
.

Time was not on the Royal Navy’s side this morning. The guns on Forts Tompkins and Richmond on Staten Island began to join the fight with scores of heavy guns. Every warship or gunboat of the U.S. Navy in the harbor rushed to get up steam. Adding to the din of gunfire was the
ringing of the church bells in alarm throughout Staten Island, Brooklyn, Manhattan, and the Jersey shore.
29

The British ships absorbed terrible punishment from the close-range fire of the forts without flinching in their pursuit. Passing through the Verrazano Narrows into the Upper Bay, the ships broke up into separate duels. The two British sloops drew the Russian frigates to give the HMS
Dauntless
and
Topaze
the opening to concentrate on the
Kearsarge
.
30

Winslow was desperate. He faced two heavier ships with skilled and determined captains who were trying to position themselves on his starboard and larboard and crush him with the weight of their broadsides. Two of his 32-pounders were already out of action, and the shells and splinters had thinned out the rest of his crew. Lamson’s men had rushed to replace every casualty, and their young captain had stepped in to replace the fallen executive officer. Smoke that the light breeze could barely move hung over the ships and was lit only by the tongues of flames that spit from the gun ports and main gun decks.

Lamson stalked the quarterdeck, encouraging the gun crews, his face sprayed and his coat drenched with blood from a man whose head was carried off next to him. His hat had flown off with a splinter. Yet he moved with the easy grace of a leopard, sure and calm, a cigar trailing from the corner of his mouth, his eye never missing an opportunity or a danger. “Handsomely done, boys! Lay it on! Lay it on!” A shot dissolved the gunner, and Lamson snatched the firing cord as it whipped through the air. He gave it a yank to fire the percussion cap to spark the charge in the barrel. The XI-inch roared and bucked, sending its shell to explode on
Dauntless
’s gun deck.

Kearsarge
’s crew was being savaged. How long could flesh and blood stand the pounding? Lamson glanced about and noticed a wounded man fight off an offer of help. “No, mate, stand to your post. Fight the ship!” He then crawled to a hatch to slide down the ladder. Two of the men at the XI-inch forward pivot had been sick with fever that morning, but they were manning the gun as if they had been the halest. More of
Gettysburg
’s crew, just below decks, was waiting to replace the fallen. He ran to the hatch and peered down into upturned expectant faces. “Mr. Henderson, take a gun crew to replace the Marines on the forecastle rifle. Tell the sergeant to report to me.” Bullets slammed into the deck around him from the Royal Marines in
Dauntless
’s rigging.

Quarter Gunner Dempsey nudged another man in the direction of Lamson in the brief seconds of inaction between heaving their gun back
along its lines before the gunner pulled the lanyard. “Did ya see? Did ya see? He don’t flinch or notice at all.”
31

Topaze
’s captain concentrated the fire of his first division guns on
Kearsarge
’s quarterdeck, sweeping it clean of men and smashing the wheel. Another division directed its fire at the hull below the smokestack until a shot stabbed into the boilers. They exploded in a surge of superheated steam that spread scalding death into the black gang and engineers.
Kearsarge
’s screws spun to a halt. The ship was now barely drifting on the Hudson’s current. It was enough.
Topaze
and
Dauntless
closed on either side. Captain Spencer was determined to walk on
Kearsarge
’s wrecked deck in triumph as soon as its captain struck. He wanted to do it with all of New York as witness.

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