Текст книги "Stars and Stripes Triumphant"

Автор книги: Harry Harrison

Соавторы: Harry Harrison,Harry Harrison
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

DAWN OF A NEW DAY

“There is a gentleman at the door to see you, Father,” Helen said. “He sent in his card.”

John Stuart Mill took the card, held it to the light. “Ah, Mr. William Gladstone. He has had my letter, then, and responded accordingly. Please show him in.”

They shook hands warmly when Helen ushered Gladstone in, for this was a meeting that both men greatly desired.

“I came as soon as I had your communication. Unhappily I was out of the country for the last parliamentary session and I do regret missing it. I have had mixed reports from my colleagues – but all of them tell me that, if you would excuse the expression, the fur did fly.”

Mill laughed aloud. “It surely did.” He warmed to the politician and was pleased. This was a most important encounter.

“Mr. Gladstone,” Helen said. “Would you take tea with us?”

“I would be delighted.”

“Please be seated,” Mill said. “This is a meeting I have long desired. I have read your political writings with great interest, great interest.”

“You are kind to say that.”

“It is but the truth. You were responsible for the Railway Bill of 1844 that opened up third-class travel for all in Britain. It was only due to your insistence that trains now stop at every station in the country. I admire your interest in the ordinary folk of this land.”

“Indeed they do interest me – for they are citizens just as you and I are.”

“They are, without a doubt, but that is not a popular point of view. I also note that although you have always rejected the idea of parliamentary reform, you spoke up in favor of it when Edward Baines introduced his reform bill. You argued that it was manifestly unfair that only one-fiftieth of the working classes had the vote.”

“That is indeed true – and it is perhaps the main reason that my views on reform changed.”

Mill leaned forward, his voice tense with the grave import of his question. “Then I take it that you are in favor of universal suffrage?”

“I am indeed. I believe that every man in this land should have a vote.”

Helen had opened the door and carried in the tea tray; she could not help but overhear these last words. “But, Mr. Gladstone, to be truly universal, should not suffrage include women as well as men?”

Gladstone was on his feet as he spoke, bowed graciously, and smiled. “My dear Miss Mill, your father has written of the aid you have given him in his writings. Now, having met you, I can surely believe that. Yes, I do agree that someday the vote must be extended to women. But the longest journey begins with but a single step. This is a conservative country and we will be hard-pressed to obtain universal male suffrage. But I promise that when the time is right, the vote will be extended to be truly universal.”

Helen smiled, and responded to his bow with a gracious curtsy. “I shall hold you to your word, sir. Now – let me pour your tea and then leave you gentlemen to your discussions.”

Gladstone sipped his tea and nodded toward the closed door. “Your daughter is a jewel, Mr. Mill. I hope that you will not be offended when I say that she has a mind like a man’s.”

“I understand your meaning, sir, though Helen might take some offense.”

“None intended! I meant simply that I can see why you value her contributions to your labors.”

“I do, greatly. She is the one who convinced me that a universal ballot must also be a secret ballot for general elections. This will prevent working-class people being influenced in their vote by watching employers and landlords.”

“That is indeed a cogent observation. I had not considered that aspect of the vote, but now that I have thought it out, I can see that it will be of utmost importance.”

“But you do realize that a secret ballot with all men eligible to vote – might be the very force that changes this country forever?”

“In what way?”

“Now, as you well know, sovereignty in Britain does not rest with the people, but with the Crown-in-Parliament. This parliamentary sovereignty is the British concentration of power. This means that Parliament is supreme and nothing can stand before it. Not the will of the people – not even the law. If a statute blocks the will of the government, why, ministers can simply change it. Even if that obstacle is common law evolved over the centuries.”

“Unhappily, that is indeed true.”

“But if power flows upward from the people, this would not be possible. The people must elect their representatives to work the common will. If they do not – why, they will be ejected from power. That, and the checks and balances of the judiciary and a supreme court, will be the force to ensure that the will of the people will be sovereign. Not hereditary lords or a hereditary monarch. Not even God can alter that.”

“You believe then that disestablishmentarianism is to be intended?”

“I do. There shall be no ordained church ruled by the monarch. As in the American constitution, there should be no established church at all. In fact, there must be a strict separation between church and state.”

Gladstone put his teacup down, nodded, and sighed.

“This may prove a bitter pill to feed to the people of this island.”

“Strong medicine is sometimes needed. But with your good grace, Mr. Gladstone, and the others in our constitutional congress, the will of the people could become the law of the country.”

“A noble ambition – and hopefully a possible one. I am your man, Mr. Mill, behind you every step of the way.”

The crew on duty aboard the newly launched USS Stalwart, named for the dauntless warship sunk during the battle for Ireland, looked on with interest as the magnificent steam yacht came up the Solent and slowly passed them by. Their work was to guard the city of Portsmouth, and the great naval station there. But they could see no threat in this well-turned-out little ship that was flying the royal ensign of Belgium. They would have found no menace there – even if they had not received strict orders to let the vessel pass undisturbed. In the last of the evening sun, the yacht passed through Southampton Water and into Cowes Roads. After rounding the Isle of Wight, it drifted gently up to the fenders on the dockside in Cowes. Its arrival must have been expected, because a carriage was there, waiting.

Others besides the carriage driver had been expecting the trim vessel’s arrival. There was another yacht tied up farther down the docks. A yacht as well turned out and gleaming as the royal Belgian one.

On the bridge of the Aurora two men stood, watching the other vessel’s arrival. They were both dressed in well-cut broadcloth suits, but each had the bearing of a military man.

“So far, Count, your information seems to be more than accurate,” Gustavus Fox said.

“It should be,” Count Korzhenevski said, “since I paid a good deal in gold for it. Belgium is a small country, its politicians notoriously penurious. However, one or two of them know that my agent there pays well for sound information. They queue up to be bribed. You have alerted the navy?”

“As soon as I got your message and arrived here. That yacht is not to be approached, searched, or troubled in any way. Free to come – even freer to leave.”

“I am glad of that,” the Count said, looking through his glasses again. “But one does wish that they could be a little more discreet. That is the fifth large trunk that has been loaded aboard from that dray.”

“The German nobility has never been known for its intelligence.”

“Quite.” The Count squinted at the sun setting behind the rolling hills. “It will be dark soon.”

“Not soon enough. The quicker this escapade is over and done with, the happier I will be.”

“Do not despair, dear Gus.” The Count laughed and pulled at his arm. He snapped a quick command in Russian to the officer on watch. “Come below and share a bottle of champagne. We shall be called as soon as there is any activity on the pier.”

In Osbourne House there was a great stirring when the Belgian Foreign Minister, Baron Surlet de Chokier, was admitted. The Queen was waiting, wearing black traveling dress and fussing over her younger children. The Prince of Wales, known to all the family as Bertie, stood to one side; Alexandra, his bride of two years, also beside him. They were a contrasting pair: she was slight, and very attractive. Young though he was, if the pudgy Bertie had ever had any charm, it was long since gone. Black-bearded and potbellied, he was already going bald. He looked on, apparently bored, when the Baron spoke to the Queen.

“It has all been arranged, Your Majesty. King Leopold was immensely concerned with the safety of you and your family, and indeed was most relieved when you accepted his offer of sanctuary. The yacht is tied up and awaiting only your presence.”

“It will be safe?” Victoria sounded lost, unsure of herself.

“I assure Your Majesty that Belgium will provide a safe haven for you, far from this devastated, war-torn country. Your bags are being loaded. We only await your royal presence.”

The Queen looked down at the children, wrapped warmly in jackets, and then at Bertie and the bare-armed Alexandra.

“You’ll get a chill,” she said firmly.

“Not really, Mama,” Bertie said, a sly smile on his lips. “I think that Alexandra and I will be quite safe here in Osbourne House.”

“But – we planned. For all our safety…” Then Victoria’s eyes widened and she gasped. “You are not coming!” Her voice was shrill, angry. “You will remain here, behind my back? We are the Queen. You have been talking to the monarchists, haven’t you? Behind my back!”

“Of course not, Mama,” he said. But there was little reassurance in his voice and the tiny smile belied the meaning of his words.

“You want me gone!” she screeched. “With me in Belgium, you want the crown for yourself!”

“Don’t excite yourself, Mother, it does you ill. You will enjoy Belgium, I am sure.”

In the end Bertie excused himself and left, waving the shocked Alexandra after him. It was some time before the horrified ladies-in-waiting could convince the Queen that she must go on the yacht – if only for the sake of the children. Weeping and distraught, she eventually entered the carriage, hugging the crying children to her.

Aboard the Aurora, over half of the bottle of vintage champagne was gone before Gus and the Count were summoned on deck once again. Although the lamps on the dock had not been lit, the waning moon cast enough illumination for them to clearly see the arrival of the carriages. Dark figures, one after another, emerged and were hurried up the gangway. Even as the passengers were boarding, a cloud of smoke issued from the little vessel’s funnel and floated across the harbor. Soon after that the lines were taken in and the yacht puffed out into the Solent. Minutes later the Aurora moved slowly in her wake. They sailed past the anchored naval vessels and out into the ocean. The Belgian yacht continued away from the shore a good few miles before she altered her course to the east.

“She is now out of British territorial waters and well on her way to Belgium,” the Count said happily. “Now – let us finish that bottle since this necessitates a little celebration.”

Once in the salon, he poured their glasses full, raised his on high. “This calls for a toast,” Korzhenevski said. “Did your American schools teach you about Bonnie Prince Charlie?”

“Not really. We are not a country that goes in much for British history.”

“A serious lapse. One must always know one’s adversaries. It seems that in Scotland they toasted the deposed prince as ‘the King over the water.’ ”

“That has a nice ring to it.” Gus raised his glass as well. “Shall we drink, then, to the Queen over the water?” They touched glasses and drank deep.

“Did they really think that we wanted to keep her here?” Gus mused. “King Leopold has done us an immense favor. Too bad we cannot thank him.”

Although it was after dark in England, it was still early afternoon in Washington City. President Abraham Lincoln looked wearily at the papers that cluttered his desk, then pushed them away. He pressed the electric button that summoned his secretary. John Nicolay poked his head in through the door.

“Take these away, John, if you will. I can’t bear the sight of them. I foolishly thought that with the coming of peace, there would be a vast diminution in the paperwork. There is, if anything, a good deal more. Away with them.”

“Just as you say.” He squared the sheets into a neat pile, then took more folded papers from his pocket. “I was just going to bring this in. The morning report from the War Department.”

“Ah, the military mind. Their idea of what constitutes morning sure stumps me. Anything there that I want to hear?”

“Mostly passing on reports from London. The constitutional congress is still meeting, and they expect to have a document that they can vote upon by this time next week.”

“Sure are taking their time.”

“Our Continental Congress took a lot longer to draw up the Constitution.”

“Indeed they did. I stand corrected. Any more?”

“Yes. A report from General Sherman. He will be in Edinburgh by now with his commission. The terms of the separate peace with Scotland are all agreed and will be formerly signed now.”

“So the Scots will have their own parliament. That will not go down well with the English.”

“That the Scots do have – and no, it did not go down very well at all south of their border. The English newspapers are incensed and predict riots and blood in the streets.”

“They always do – but thankfully it never happens. Sherman is too good a soldier to permit anything like that to take place. Like it or not, they have had peace thrust upon them.”

“There is also a confidential report from Gus Fox that Queen Victoria is about to be secretly smuggled out to Belgium.”

“God bless Gus! I don’t know how he managed it, but that is the best news ever. Without her presence in the country, the monarchists will have no rallying point. I would be more than delighted if they vote this constitution in, then elect a representative government so I can bring the boys home.”

“There have been no difficulties on that score from the soldiers, Mr. President. Since General Sherman has been slowly reducing the occupying forces, any of them who want to return home have already done so. There have not been many volunteers. Seems their pay goes a lot further over there. They like the public houses and the women. Only complaints I’ve heard mentioned are about the weather.”

“Well, an army that only complains about the rain must be in pretty good all-around shape. Anything else?”

“That’s all for today. Except Mrs. Lincoln says that she wants you on time for lunch today.”

Lincoln looked up at the clock and nodded. “Guess I better get down there. I want to keep peace in the world.”

“That you have done, Mr. President,” Nicolay said, suddenly serious. “Your first term began with a war – as has your second one. But peace rules now, and may it do so forever.”

“Amen to that, John. Amen.”

Peace at last, Sherman thought. The agreements signed and sealed. And now a separate peace agreement with Scotland. Great Britain had reluctantly been reduced in size. Still, it meant peace in his time. The victory was well worth the battle. But there had been too many stuffy rooms of late – and even stuffier politicians. He walked across to the windows and opened them wide, breathed deeply of the cool night air. Below him were the lights of Edinburgh, with the Royal Mile stretching away down the hill. He turned around when there was a quick knock on the door.

“Open it,” he called out. The sergeant of the guard looked in.

“General Grant is here, sir.”

“Fine. Show him in.”

Grant, smiling through his great black beard, crossed the room and took Sherman by the hand.

“Well, it is all over, Cumph. You really won this one.”

“We all did. Without you and Lee and Meagher – not to mention our new navy – I could have done nothing.”

“I admit, we surely all did our part – but we can’t forget that the strategy was yours, the combined arms and the lightning war. At times I feel sorry for the British soldiers; they must have felt like they were trampled by a stampeding herd of buffalo.”

“Perhaps they were. Our American buffalo just stomped them down and kept on galloping.”

Grant, running his fingers through his beard, nodded agreement. “I doubt if they appreciate it – but it was the best thing that ever happened to them in battle. They took casualties, yes, but not nearly as many as they would have suffered had there been a long war of attrition. Now England, along with Ireland, is at peace and being dragged into being a democracy. And from what I have seen these last weeks, the Scotch seem to be tickled pink to have their own country again.”

“They are a fine people, and like the Irish they now feel indebted to the United States. I feel a certain pride in having people like them on our side. And something else they have – the best-tasting whiskey that I have ever drunk. I have one of their malts here if you would like to join me in a celebratory drink?”

“Just a single one will do me fine. I think of all those years of falling into bed dead drunk every night and feel no wish to return to that condition.”

“You won’t. You have changed too much during these years of war. That man who needed drink to get through the day is long gone. But you are right. One will surely be enough.”

There was a bottle of Glen Morangie and glasses on the sideboard; Sherman poured the drinks and raised his glass. “A toast, then. Something fitting.”

“All I can think of is peace in this world – and heaven in the next.”

“Amen to that.”

General Sherman sipped at the fine whiskey, then turned to the open window to look out at the land that had produced it. General Grant joined him, seeing the sparkling lights of the great city of Edinburgh, then beyond it the dark countryside. A peaceful vista, and their thoughts were at peace as well. But out there, beyond Scotland, was the English Channel. Traditional waterway and barrier that had kept the warring nations of Europe at bay for almost a thousand years. And beyond this barrier was a continent perpetually in turmoil, still wanting to settle its countries’ differences by force of arms.

“There is still a lot of trouble brewing up out there,” Grant said, his words echoing Sherman’s thoughts. “Do you think that those people, all those Europeans with their frictions and feuds and long memories of war and revolution – do you think that they can keep the lid on all their troubles?”

“I certainly hope that they can.”

“Haven’t done too well in the past, have they?”

“Indeed they haven’t. But perhaps they will do better in the future.” Sherman drained his glass, put it down on the table beside him. “Still, they will have to be watched. My appointment by the President was to keep America free. We have all traveled a long and bitter road to assure that freedom. Our country must not be threatened ever again. Nor will it ever be, not while I have a breath in my body.”

“I am with you there, Cumph, we all are. Peace is our aim – but war is our trade. We don’t want it. But if it comes we can lick it.”

“That we surely can. Good night, Ulysses. Sleep well.”

“We all shall sleep well. Now.”

SUMMER – 1865

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Abraham Lincoln President of the United States

William H. Seward Secretary of State

Edwin M. Stanton Secretary of War

Gideon Welles Secretary of the Navy

Salmon P. Chase Secretary of the Treasury

Gustavus Fox Assistant Secretary of the Navy

Judah P. Benjamin Secretary for the South

John Nicolay First Secretary to President Lincoln

John Hay Secretary to President Lincoln

William Parker Parrott Gunsmith

John Ericsson Inventor of USS Monitor

UNITED STATES ARMY

General William Tecumseh Sherman

General Ulysses S. Grant

General Ramsay Head of Ordinance Department

General Robert E. Lee

General Thomas Francis Meagher Commander of the Irish Brigade

Colonel Andy Summers

UNITED STATES NAVY

Captain Schofield Captain of USS Avenger

Admiral David Glasgow Farragut Naval Commander in Chief

Captain Raphael Semmes Captain of USS Virginia

Captain Sanborn Captain of USS Pennsylvania

Captain Dodge Captain of USS Thunderer

Captain Curtin Captain of USS Atlas

Captain Van Horn Captain of USS Devastation

Commander William Wilson Second Officer of USS Dictator

GREAT BRITAIN

Victoria Regina Queen of Great Britain and Ireland

Lord Palmerston Prime Minister

Lord John Russell Foreign Secretary/Prime Minister

William Gladstone Chancellor of the Exchequer

Benjamin Disraeli Leader of the Opposition

John Stuart Mill

BRITISH ARMY

Duke of Cambridge Commander in Chief

Brigadier Somerville the Duke’s Aide

General Bagnall

General Sir William Armstrong Commander in Chief of Her Majesty’s Forces in India

BRITISH NAVY

Admiral Spencer

Lieutenant Archibald Fowler Lieutenant HMS Defender

BELGIUM

Ambassador Pierce American Ambassador to Belgium

Leopold King of Belgium

Baron Surlet de Chokier Belgian Foreign Minister

IRELAND

Jeremiah O’Donovan Rossa President of the Republic of Ireland

Isaac Butt Vice-President of the Republic of Ireland

Ambassador O’Brin Irish Ambassador to the United States of America

Thomas McGrath Irish Intern in Birmingham

Patrick McDermott Irish Intern in Birmingham

RUSSIA

Admiral Paul S. Makhimov Admiral Russian Navy

Count Alexander Igoreivich Korzhenevski Captain of the Aurora

Lieutenant Simenov First Engineer of Aurora

SCOTLAND

General McGregor Commander in Chief of Her Majesty’s Forces in Scotland

Mr. MacLaren of the Highland Council

Robert Dalglish Chairman of the National Party of Scotland