A Rainbow of Blood: The Union in Peril an Alternate History (23 page)

There the militia had come groggily awake. That rarest thing in war,
Napoleon's description of "two o'clock in the morning courage," was nowhere to be found. Panic ran through them as they desperately tried to
dress and find their weapons. Ragged lines of half-dressed men began to
form, but then when the battle lines of the Maine men emerged from the
dark with bayonets leveled, the militia came apart. A few ragged shots
got off, but the rest of them turned and ran into the night, the odd man
still carrying his rifle. It would have been a presumption against human
nature to have expected anything more from men whose military experience was measured in weeks. The same thing had happened to American troops two years ago when both Union and Confederate armies were
just as green. The officers ran with the rest.

But a few men who were made of bolder stuff tried to stem the race
to the rear. One such field officer yelled at a man who sprinted past him,
"Why are you running, soldier?"

The men yelled back over his shoulder as he disappeared into the
dark, "Because I can't fly!"2

SAMUDA BROTHERS' POPLAR SHIPYARD, PORTSMOUTH, ENGLAND,
2:20 PM, OCTOBER 24, 1863

Lord Clarence Paget was seething behind a placid face. Her Majesty's
sudden visit to the yard to inspect the construction of HMS Prince Albert
was the last thing he or the Admiralty wanted, especially in company
of that simpering courtier, Disraeli. Paget had rushed to Plymouth from
London to be in attendance.

Victoria's visit was her first public appearance since the death of
Albert, and had aroused the nation's interest in what had broken
through her veil of deep mourning. The yard workers had wildly
cheered her appearance, buoying her spirits. Disraeli had worked this wonder in persuading her to come, artfully explaining that in this time of
national peril, Albert would have wanted her people to see their queen.
He went on to say that there would be no better way than to support the
project in which Albert had believed so deeply, Captain Coles's turret
ironclad. It had taken all of his powers of persuasion to coax her from
her shell.

Disraeli murmured to her, "See, mum, how they love their sovereign. They are delighted to see you amongst them again." Now the
crowd began to chant, "Albert! Albert! Albert!" A suggestion to the
builders from Disraeli had seeded the idea of this greeting as well as
the suggestion of a paid holiday. Now Victoria glowed. The tribute to
the love of her life brought public tears to her eyes for the first time in
her reign of twenty-six years.

She was delighted at the flowers presented by the children of the
yard workers. She had been presented a mountain of flowers in her lifetime, but these seemed most beautiful of all. She was equally delighted
to be introduced to Capt. Cowper Coles, the inventor in whom her husband had had such faith. Victoria had become an even greater partisan of
this slim, forty-four-year-old naval officer with the long, luxurious blond
beard. He escorted her up the Union Jack-draped ramp to the ship's
main deck where sat the huge, black, round turret .3

Coles showed her through a hatch into the empty cavernous interior
brightly lit with oil lamps. The deck mounts for the guns had been installed, but the guns themselves had not yet arrived. "Your Majesty shall
see how easily this turret is rotated." At a signal, eighteen men below
strained on a capstan to turn its bulk smoothly 360 degrees on its rollers
in a minute.

Victoria was as delighted as a child on a merry-go-round. Without
looking at him, she said, "Lord Paget, pray tell me how many such ships
we are building."

"Your Majesty, we have almost two dozen ironclads under construction."

"With turrets, Lord Paget?"

"Only one, mum, Royal Sovereign and the former Confederate ship
Severyn."

"Why only one?"

Paget was visibly squirming now. On cue, Victoria said, "Mr. Disraeli, what is your opinion?"

Disraeli explained, "Your Majesty, ships that rely on a web of masts
and lines for most of their propulsion will find the movement of a turret
greatly inhibited."

"Yet, Lord Paget, this 'web of masts and lines' did not serve us as
well at Charleston as the American turrets." She was glad of Disraeli's
explanation.

Disraeli 's face did not betray his intense amusement at Paget's distress. One tried to evade Victoria's probing questions at his own peril.
He was sure to note that the dozen journalists lining the turret walls
were taking down every word in shorthand 4

ST. LOUIS CATHEDRAL, NEW ORLEANS, 11:00 AM, OCTOBER 24, 1863

A cloud of incense wafted out of the immense double doors of the cathedral as Bazaine stepped into the bright, crisp autumn morning, the
hymns of the "Te Deum" still running though his head. The crowd that
packed the square and nearby streets outside erupted in a wild roar,
punctuated by shouts of "Vive Bazaine!" and "Vive l'empereur!" New Orleans was pleased to show off its French face to its new heroes.

They were already comparing his victory at Vermillionville to
Napoleon's at Austerlitz. On that winter's day in 1805, Napoleon had
driven thousands of Russians into icy ponds to drown. At Vermillionville, Bazaine had driven thousands of Americans into the murky waters
of a Southern bayou and lake to a similar fate. Let the others take up the
refrain, he thought. The emperor should receive his report in a week. He
knew how ambition's game would cause a sensation in Paris-30 colors,
32 guns, 9 generals, and 12,348 unwounded prisoners. Another 899 dead
and 3,223 wounded had been counted on the field. They had been veteran troops and deserved better leadership.5

Bazaine was already toying with thoughts of the rewards to be expected from his grateful sovereign-Le Comte de Vermillionville or, even
better, Le Due de Vermillionville.

Yes, Bazaine knew the game of military ambition in the Second
Empire and so was attentive to the concerns and dreams of the imperial
ambition. The ostensible purpose of the alliance was to secure France's
grip on Mexico. A grateful Confederacy would gladly acquiesce to what
an undivided Union would never tolerate - the nullification of the Mon roe Doctrine. The emperor had hinted broadly in his instructions that
perhaps France could expect greater gains from the American fratricide.

Jefferson Davis was astute enough to he concerned about larger
French ambitions. For that reason, he had carefully instructed Taylor to
emphasize the subordinate role of the French while operating on Confederate soil. Taylor had wasted no time in bringing that subject up with
Bazaine shortly after his tumultuous welcome to the newly liberated city
that would deny the victor of Vermillionville nothing.

Bazaine responded with cordial grace to Taylor's recapitulation of
alliance roles. "Daaccord, d'accord, General Taylor. That is in line with the
emperor's instructions. This army is sent to support you in your own
country. You command me, and I command my army, no? This is best."

Then he paused to blow a neat circle from his cigar. "Of course, His
Majesty has concerns that he has confided in me."

There it was -what Taylor feared - the "yes, but." He replied, keeping his voice even, "And those concerns are?"

"Oh, General Taylor, these are minor things, matters of sentiment, I
assure you. But they are matters close to our French hearts. The emperor
wishes to extend his imperial protection to Louisiana due to his regard
for its French history, culture, and language -the very language of this
city and the one we are speaking now."

"The Confederacy, sir, will look after its own," Taylor said pointedly in English before repeating it in French.

"Ah, yes, someday, of course, but you must admit, that the very necessity of welcoming a French army indicates otherwise. No? Your Confederacy will no doubt, as is His Majesty's fervent wish, be able someday
to defy the world, but in the meantime you will face a vengeful Union
and, I may say between friends, the treachery of perfidious Albion, despite the temporary alliance of convenience we share with it. It is the affection for our shared history and aspirations that motivates France."

THE BATTERY, CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA,
11:00 AM, OCTOBER 24, 1863

As Bazaine emerged from St. Louis Cathedral in distant New Orleans,
Jefferson Davis was waiting for the British ship that was slowly approaching the dock. He had rushed down from Richmond for the occasion when word of its reached him. It was the most wished-for
event in the Confederacy, the recognition of the independence of their
new country by the foremost power in the world. Davis had insisted that
it be the most formal of state occasions. With him was his vice president,
Gen. Pierre G. T. Beauregard and a cluster of other generals, the governor of South Carolina, an honor guard in new uniforms, and a band.
The railings along the Battery had been lined with alternating Union
Jacks and Confederate flags. Crowds packed the street behind the Battery, the adjacent park, and the balconies of the overlooking mansions.

Charleston had come back to life in the last two weeks. This great
Southern city had been nearly choked to death by the grip of two years
of blockade. Now its harbor was a forest of masts from the hundreds of
ships that had raced in from Bermuda and from across the Atlantic to
exchange their cargoes of war materials and luxuries for the mountains
of Southern cotton from the harvests of 1861 through 1863.

The battle that had freed the city could only be heard by the crowds
packing the waterfront on that fateful day. A deep and constant rumble
of heavy naval guns and clouds of dark smoke from the funeral pyres
of ships of the line had kept hopes balanced on a knife's edge until the
6,200-ton ironclad HMS Resistance had steamed into the harbor past Fort
Sumter. The crowds had gone wild. Only a practiced eye could see how
much distress the great ship was in or that it had struck a Confederate
mine in passing the fort. Its approach was agonizingly slow, and as it
came up to Auger Dock, the wounded leviathan simply settled to the
bottom. Luckily, its deep draft allowed its upper decks to remain above
water.

General Beauregard carried off the official welcome in gallant
Southern style. In the greatest tradition of the Royal Navy, Resistance's
captain strolled down the gangplank as if nothing had happened, graciously, albeit briefly, accepted the thanks of the city, and then asked for
assistance for his many wounded.

Those men were rushed to Confederate hospitals and private homes
where they were nursed by the ladies of the city with every care. The
officers were feted in every mansion, and the only officer who did
not immediately have a dozen belles hanging on every word was the
officer on deck, for the captain had insisted on maintaining the illusion that his ship was still all "shipshape and Bristol fashion." But even the
watch officer was soon deluged with visitors, for Resistance had become
the greatest tourist attraction in the South. In a week, a dozen ships of
the Royal Navy rode into the harbor among the mass of civilian shipping. The "women of the town" experienced a lucrative but exhausting
bonanza. One of the ships brought the news of the imminent arrival of
a ranking representative of the British government, and the news had
drawn Davis from Richmond like a magnet.

Now, Jefferson Davis paced the stone parapet of the Battery as the
ship came up to the dock with its distinguished passengers clustered on
deck, flanked by scarlet-coated Royal Marines. The guns along the Battery fired the salute, the band struck up "God Save the Queen," and the
crowd cheered. No one seemed to notice the nearby HMS Resistance with
its upper decks barely above the water.

The Southern press immediately immortalized the meeting on the
dock of President Davis and Her Majesty's representative, Austin David
Layard. Their private meeting was much less satisfactory. Foreign Minister Russell had carefully chosen Layard for this mission. Layard had
been his undersecretary at the Foreign Office and a member of Parliament. No one was more informed of the government's policies.

Russell was aware of Layard's overt Southern sympathies, but that
was a sentiment shared by most in the British establishment. What he
did not realize was that Layard had done more to start this war than
anyone else. It was Layard's warning that allowed the infamous Confederate commerce raider, CSS Alabama to escape from Liverpool in 1862
just when American pressure was building for its seizure. The depredations of the Alabama and her sister ships had forced Lincoln to demand
the seizure of the two ironclads building for the Confederacy in September. Layard had warned the builders and their Confederate accomplice
in time for one of them to escape. Its escape and subsequent interception
by the USS Gettysburg in British waters had provoked the battle with the
frigate HMS Liverpool. The destruction of the British ship with heavy loss
of life was the casus helli for the British declaration of war against the
United States. Davis was more informed of Layard's role than even Russell through his agent in Britain, Capt. James Bulloch, Layard's contact.
Davis considered Layard's appointment to be a mark of distinction and compliment to the Confederacy, unaware of Russell's ignorance of his
activities. He was prepared to treat Layard as a hero.