A Rainbow of Blood: The Union in Peril an Alternate History (14 page)

But Britain had other resources. Where France, Prussia, Austria, and
Russia relied upon conscription, the British had the innate and eager patriotism of her people. Her old county militias, numbering one hundred
and thirty thousand men, produced a flood of individual volunteers to
fill out and expand the regular infantry battalions. In the Crimean War,
ninety thousand militia members had volunteered for regular service,
and ten thousand served overseas. The Yeomanry added fourteen thousand cavalry commanded by the great landowners whose tenants filled
the ranks. The greatest addition to British strength was a far more recent
organization, the Volunteer Rifle Corps (VRC). Barely five years before,
tensions with France had boiled to the point that a French invasion was
taken with deadly seriousness. In 1859 the secretary of state for war
had called for the raising of the VRC in England, Wales, and Scotland.
Ireland was pointedly ignored. Volunteers were to provide their own
clothing and equipment, which put a firm middle-class stamp on the
new formations. Most eschewed regular red for the green, gray, and black of the rifle corps to set themselves apart. The regulars were only
too thankful that their scarlet would not be worn by these amateurs. The
VRC was such a success that by 1862 it numbered 162,000 men, of which
134,000 were in rifle battalions, fully equaling the infantry strength of the
regulars. Almost fifty thousand men were consolidated into eighty-six
deployable battalions and the rest in administrative battalions. The Royal
Small Arms Factory Enfield, aided by commercial arms makers, had
been easily able to arm the entire force with the superb Enfield Rifle.'

In short order, Britain had doubled its army, a remarkable feat for a
country for which conscription was anathema. Yet, as with the rapid expansion of the Union Army, the iron judgment of Socrates held -a body
of men is no more an army than a pile of building materials is a house.
It would take time for the regulars to absorb the militia volunteers and
for the Yeomanry horse and the VRC to work up to the level where they
would be more dangerous to an enemy than themselves. Until then, it
would be the Thin Red Line upon which the Empire depended.

HUGHENDEN MANOR, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE, ENGLAND,
6:25 PM, OCTOBER 21, 1863

Benjamin Disraeli sat gazing into the flames that leaped and crackled in
the fireplace of his library. The dancing light illuminated its "writingtables, couches covered with yellow stain and profusely gilt, oak cabinets
ornamented with caryatides, columns and entablatures of Dresden china." This room had been his joy but of late had been refuge from a world
that seemed to have passed him by.'

To say that he was one of the most interesting men of his time
would have been an understatement. He was stoop-shouldered, thin,
dark-complexioned, with one very carefully arranged black curl draped
over his forehead. Born into a Jewish family who had made their way to
England after the expulsion from Spain, his father had him baptized into
the Church of England after a dispute with his synagogue. Although an
observant Anglican, he reveled in his Jewish heritage. On one occasion,
he threw back an anti-Semitic insult, "Yes, I am a Jew, and when the
ancestors of the right honorable gentleman were brutal savages in an unknown island, mine were priests in the temple of Solomon."

His youth had been so bohemian as to earn him the epithet of "revolting fop," but ambition had harnessed his appetites and channeled them into politics where he had risen to the leadership of the Conservative, or Tory, Party. He had become what he admired most, a country
gentleman, a member of the establishment-no mean feat for a man
whose father had held the Torah. Disraeli still found time to write a series of well-received novels and become noted for droll wit:

It would have been a good dinner, if The soup had been as warm
as the champagne or The beef had been as rare as the service or
The brandy had been as old as the woman on his left or The woman on his right had been as Hansom as the cab he took home.'

He had had a circle of friends who so valued his political genius
that they had bought him this estate, paid many of his debts, and found
a suitably rich wife for him-prerequisites for the Tory leadership. Mary
Anne was twelve years his senior, causing some cruel wit to quote the
Bard, "Who cares if the bag is old as long as it's full of gold." They had
shocked society and fallen deeply in love, and he liked to say that he had
married for money but now would marry her again for love.

She doted on him and now fretted that he had seemed to suddenly
age. Friends in the House had whispered that he nodded off more often
than not. His slight frame seemed to shrink in on itself, and his dark
complexion became even more sallow. The single dark curl that he so ostentatiously wore down his forehead seemed to whither away. Then war
had come, and he had unexpectedly arrived at Hughenden even though
the House still sat. He strode through the estate's grounds he loved so
much with a quickness she had not seen in years.

That night, the noise of a carriage arriving over the gravel roadway
brought him from his fire to the door. He flung it open to the shock of his
butler and ran down the steps though the rain as a man in a black Quaker coat stepped out the carriage. "Bright, so good of you to come. Please,
come inside. I have a good fire to take the chill off."

They paused only long enough for Bright to greet Mary Anne, who
ordered coffee and a meal to he sent to the library as Disraeli slid the
doors shut. He turned to look at the man who had insulted him only
a few days before. The day after Bright's speech in the house, he had
gone to a chophouse for a meal. Disraeli had followed him in and said, "Bright, I would give all I ever had to have made that speech you made
just now."

Bright looked at him straight and said, "Well, you might have made
it if you had been honest."8

In relating that incident to a friend, he had said, "Politics is like
war-a roughish business. We should not be over-sensitive. We have
enough to do without imaginary grievances."9 Any offense had been
swallowed up by a realization that Bright was right. It was a had war
fought for the worst reasons, but the Tories had been swept up with the
rest to avenge the insult to the nation. They had even more reason to
press such a war. The Tories were the party of privilege and tradition,
landed power of the most ancient kind, the very ones to find empathy
with the South. Still, Disraeli had not made a career out of such stolid
ideas but as a reformer and had dragged his party along. He had particularly generous to the United States in its fratricide. Addressing Parliament, he had said:

When I consider the great difficulties which the statesmen of
North America have to encounter, when I consider what I may
call the awful emergency which they have met manfully and courageously, I think it becomes England in dealing with the government of the United States, to extend to all which they say at least
a generous interpretation, and to their acts a liberal construction.10

They sat by the fire, letting the warmth soak in. It was a strange
pairing. Everyone knew Bright was a dangerous political opponent, but
no one distrusted him for he always did just what he said he would do.
To put it mildly, Disraeli did not have such a reputation. "Well, Disraeli, what is it that you insist is better said in Buckinghamshire than in
London?" He looked upon Disraeli as a skeptic would upon organized
religion. He did not trust the man. They had had a similar encounter in
1854, and Bright's sketch of Disraeli 's personality had not changed:

This remarkable man is ambitious, most able, and without prejudices. He conceives it right to strive for a great career with such
principles are in vogue in his age and country -says the politics
and principles suit England must he of the "English type," but having obtained power, would use it to found a great reputation
on great services rendered to the country. He seems unable to
comprehend the morality of our political course. ...11

In particular Bright remembered Disraeli's candor when he once
said, "We are here for fame."

Disraeli leaned back in his chair. "For a great nation to wage war, it
must have leaders that understand chess, Bright. They must think three,
four, five moves ahead and even more to checkmate. But war is not like
chess, for the game of war ripples on beyond checkmate."

"And what are these ripples you see?"

"You don't think this war will be confined to North America,
certainly?"

The doors opened, and Mary Anne walked in, followed by the servants who set a small table. Disraeli showed Bright to a seat but did not
sit down himself. He began to pace. "How do we want this game to end
Bright? What kind of world do we want to see when it is all done?"

Bright knew it was a rhetorical question and that Disraeli was about
to answer it himself. You never knew where Disraeli would land once he
leaped. His party was not in power, but he had the queen's ear and affection, for she believed "Disraeli was the only one who appreciated the
prince," her late husband, Albert, the Prince Consort, who had died only
the year before.12 Disraeli had been careful to take up the cause of those
talented men whom Albert had also championed, which only added to
the Widow of Windsor's favor. He once admitted to a friend, "You have
heard me accused me of being a flatterer. It is true. I am a flatterer. I have
found it useful. Everyone likes flattery; and when you come to royalty
you should lay it on with a trowel."13

One of Albert's men was Capt. Cowper Phipps Cole, RN, a firstclass innovator who had developed the concept of an armored turret for
warships almost contemporaneously with John Ericsson. His design pivoted on rollers, a far more stable design than Ericsson's jam-prone central spindle. It was no accident that the first armored, turreted, all-iron
warship building in British yards laid down in April 1862 shortly after
the Prince Consort's death was named HMS Prince Albert. She was not
scheduled for launch until May 1864, and the queen was distressed at the
slow rate of work. 4

Her grief for her lost husband was compounded by anguish over
her son Alfred, who had been missing since his ship went down. The
palace had given the impression she was as stoic as a rock, but privately
she shared this pain with Disraeli, whom she had taken into her closest
circle, so much so that he was accorded marked respect even by her formidable Scots guardian, Mr. Brown.

"There will be nothing worth calling victory," Disraeli said. "We
shall envy Pyrrhus. It took everything we had to defeat the Russians ten
years ago. Now the bear is sniffing blood and will surely fall on us as we
trade blows with the Americans. Who knows what other allies the Russians and Americans will find?"

He got up and poked the fire. "It's the Russians we have to worry
about, Bright, not the Americans. They will finish with the Poles soon,
and then watch out. We have interests in India, Afghanistan, and Central
Asia, to which the Russians are the main threat. We have seen how close
the Russians came this spring to bringing on a general war by abolishing
the Kingdom of Poland. The Polish question is a diplomatic Frankenstein, created out of cadaverous remnants by the mystic blundering of
Russell. And with whom does Palmerston and Russell get us into war,
Bright, with whom? They have driven the Americans straight into the
arms of the Russians.

"We can only hope the Poles can drag out their fight. Every Pole
who dies buys time for England. No wonder the czar has not declared
war after the naval battle in New York. Palmerston has had the rare good
sense to treat the Russian involvement in the battle in New York Harbor
as nothing more than an accident." He gave the fire a savage poke. "This
will be a long and exhausting war if the Russians get into it."15

Bright's focus, though, was on North America. "Well, then, all the
more reason to end this terrible war immediately. But, I must say, Disraeli, you have been at some pains never to let the Tories take a clear
stand on the American question. I must ask you straight on. Why now? I
thought you would he baying with the rest of the war hounds."

Disraeli ignored the question. "The Liberal government will lead
this country into a blind alley within the year. I think the Russians will
be in this by spring. I must be ready to find a way out when the country
casts Liberals out. My question, then, Bright, is will you and the Radicals
help bring that about?"

Bright was incredulous. "How much blood will be spilled in a year?
Act now and we will support you."

Disraeli sighed. "Bright, these events have a natural rhythm which
must play out. Should we try to arrest it, its force would crush us. No,
we must wait despite the cost. We must cheer each victory, rally from
each defeat, vote every appropriation, and point out every bungle so that
the country may honestly turn to us when the time comes."

Bright stood up. He was clearly angry. "My God, Disraeli, your
blood runs cold. No honest man could play so cynical a card."

Again Disraeli ignored the insult. "No doubt, Bright, no doubt. But
the only way the war can be ended is without any more defeats. Nothing
would dig in the heels of this nation than more catastrophes. The country's resolve will become adamantine."

He smiled darkly. "Do you remember Cohden's16 statement at the
Navy Estimates Committee in February? My God, Bright, the man was
a perfect Cassandra. Everything he forecast with our ships came about.
Next to you he is the most influential of the Radicals. He should not let
his prophecies be forgotten."17

HQ, UNION GARRISON, PORTLAND, MAINE,
1:25 PM, OCTOBER 21, 1863

The leaves had turned an unusually brilliant range of colors this year in
the "Forest City" of Maine. Even more brilliant than the reds, oranges,
and yellows from the oaks, chestnuts, and maples were the tongues of
flame that spiraled up from the burning city.