They Call it Civilization!
- Thread starter Rex Britanniae
- Start date
Canton, China
July 26, 1896
George Dewey perked up at once, upon reading of the incident in Venezuela or Guyana or whatever it technically was a part of. The American Asiatic Squadron, which once made its base at Mirs Bay, Hong Kong, had long since departed to the nearby Chinese port of Canton. The official reasoning was "budget problems", but, not only did that not make sense, everybody already knew that, with the recent tensions with the British, it would be unwise to stay in their port any longer. Thus, he was happy to know that the higher-ups, which he, as Commodore, was finally part of, had made a good choice.
At first, he was tempted to think that there was no reason to thank himself, for no war had yet broken out. But he couldn’t be so sure. After all, this story originated seven days ago, and there was a possibility war had already broken out in some form. News traveled slowly, and he began to fear that, for whatever reason, the British got theirs before he got his, and if war did break out, they would be able to pull off some kind of surprise attack.
And war was a possibility. Knowing that blowhard in charge of Venezuela, he would be all too eager to use this as a pretext for war. He could do such a thing, for he knew that, no matter what happened, the United States would back him. Still, there was no good reason in Dewey’s eyes why he should be so eager for one. It wasn’t as if the British were pushovers.
In fact, and he felt horrible for thinking this, as he was a patriot, the British might be able to beat the United States. Not while I’m on duty, he thought. He was worried though. If war broke out with the British tomorrow–no, wait, if it broke out several days ago, because news traveled slowly–then he and the rest of the Asiatic Squadron would need to face a larger British force nearby, at the port of Hong Kong. The U.S. presence was significant, meaning it could, with skill and luck, defeat the British at Hong Kong. However, there was little he could do after that. The British held Singapore, Australia, India; countless places from which they could launch an effort to defeat the Asiatic Squadron. Come to think of it, there is really nothing much we could do, even if we defeated all of those forces arrayed against us, he concluded. That was not exactly true. Discovering what he was wrong about would take a long time.
"Commodore, sir. Ensign Tanner, requesting permission to speak sir," yelled a sailor who burst into the room. Dewey would have scolded him for the disturbance, yet it was a public room, and the doors were open.
"At ease, soldier. Permission granted."
"Thank you, sir," he said, smiling. Dewey commanded a great deal of respect and admiration here. "Commodore, sir, Rear Admiral Frederick V. McNair has ordered that you report to him immediately."
Dewey paused a moment, then stood up. "Alright."
"Sir?"
"Dismissed, Ensign."
"Yes sir!" he said, which was accompanied by a bow, and followed by his departure. The Commodore couldn’t help but chuckle, as he remembered when he was like that. Hoisting himself to his 58-year old legs, he walked leisurely to the bridge of the docked ship. When he entered the room to find his superior and many of the Captains of the individual ships, he knew two things. The first was that he was late. The second was that something important was going on.
Few of the men paid any heed to him, and he quietly took his seat. The Rear Admiral continued in his briefing. "Thus, we must begin to depart. It is no longer safe in Canton. Should war come, the British would be able to seal us inside the Pearl River delta, something which would render us useless until we could break out."
"Sir," began Captain Fentyre, an Irishman by ancestry who was still relatively new to his post, "assuming we have the opportunity to get a jump on the British, will we attack Hong Kong?"
"Captain, you should know we couldn’t do such a thing. Both Hong Kong and Canton are Chinese ports. While Britain may officially own Hong Kong, the Chinese still see it as theirs, and I doubt they would take kindly to us harming their port. No matter how much influence we have here, or they have there, all of our potential bases are still just that on Chinese goodwill. And while the Chinese don’t have much strength, we need the use of their ports, as we don’t have any of our own in the region. If we attacked them as you said, the President would have my ass. It’s the same for the British."
"Of course, sir. My apologies, sir."
"Moving on," said McNair. "We are evacuating this port, no exceptions, to avoid being trapped."
"Sir," opened Dewey, who, despite his arriving late, was quite attentive, "where are we to sail until then."
"Fine question. We are sailing to Haikou, the capital of a tiny island near Indochina called Hainan. Haikou was recently made an open port by treaty with China."
"Thank you, sir." He drifted into thought. Indochina, eh? Those frogs in charge there probably wouldn’t mind letting us go to the dogs. All those Europeans want to see us knocked down a peg. Then he became more thoughtful. Then again, they aren’t too friendly with the British, are they? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he would be willing to bet on it.
McNair had been speaking the whole time. "Meeting dismissed," he said decisively, and perhaps to wake up those like Dewey who had only been paying attention halfheartedly, he dropped the many heavy books and papers he was carrying at once onto the table. They came down with a loud THUD, which jolted Dewey back into the world. All of the men stood up, some slower than others, and most left. However, Dewey went over to McNair to have a personal talk with him.
The Rear Admiral who commanded the Asiatic Squadron was a man of fine character. His countenance gave off the impression that he was always sad, yet he was generally a happy fellow, one who simply didn’t smile. He was known to enjoy a joke or two, and would toss some very funny ones out in every conversation, yet he certainly had a serious side. McNair didn’t care as much about discipline and protocol as some of the other officers Dewey knew, yet when he punished you, he made sure that you would regret whatever it was you had done. Dewey remembered, for instance, a young Lieutenant Commander who had displayed flagrant insubordination. McNair had him stripped down to his trousers, and forced him to stand at the bow of the ship during a cold winter sail in the South China Sea. The boy caught quite a nasty cold, and was actually lucky he hadn’t caught anything more severe. After all, he was forced to stay out there, standing in the same position for an hour. Guards were posted to make sure that he didn’t leave, or so much as sit down. He learned his lesson.
But Dewey and McNair went way back. They were only two years apart in age, and had known each other as coworkers for many years. Of course, McNair had always been his superior, but Dewey was just fine with that. After all, he deserved it.
"Admiral McNair, sir," he said, preferring to shorten his rank to make it easier, although that made him seem higher up than he was. "May I have a word?"
"Ah, Commodore Dewey, of course!" They sat down at the table which had just been the center of the conference. "What’s on your mind, Commodore?"
"Well, sir, let me start off by asking if you think it is going to come to war between us and Britain."
"That is not for us to yet know. If you want my personal opinion, then I shall say yes, as something was bound to spark it. It has been in the making for a long time."
"Of course, sir. My next question is, what do you think of our chances against the British?"
"That is a tough one. The British have sizable reserves and a well built-up economy, as well as a thriving Empire which includes Canada directly to America’s north. For our part, we have–"
"My apologies for interrupting sir, but I have to say, that isn’t what I was talking about. I meant, do we, the Asiatic Squadron, have a chance of defeating the British out here?"
"I can not speak for certain of that either, Commodore. As a patriot, I have to say we can destroy them, and as a soldier, I have to say we would beat them, but as a man, I can not know. Hong Kong wouldn’t be much of a problem, as they do not have a large naval presence there, but Singapore and Australia are other issues."
"Do you really think that they would send ships and men all the way from Australia, sir?"
"The British aren’t dumb, soldier. So long as they have the ships and the men in those areas to dedicate tot his, they will strive to eliminate us. We can only hope that we have God on our side."
That brought a short pause. "Sir, we have America on our side," Dewey finally said. That made McNair look up.
"That’s enough, Commodore. It must be."
July 26, 1896
George Dewey perked up at once, upon reading of the incident in Venezuela or Guyana or whatever it technically was a part of. The American Asiatic Squadron, which once made its base at Mirs Bay, Hong Kong, had long since departed to the nearby Chinese port of Canton. The official reasoning was "budget problems", but, not only did that not make sense, everybody already knew that, with the recent tensions with the British, it would be unwise to stay in their port any longer. Thus, he was happy to know that the higher-ups, which he, as Commodore, was finally part of, had made a good choice.
At first, he was tempted to think that there was no reason to thank himself, for no war had yet broken out. But he couldn’t be so sure. After all, this story originated seven days ago, and there was a possibility war had already broken out in some form. News traveled slowly, and he began to fear that, for whatever reason, the British got theirs before he got his, and if war did break out, they would be able to pull off some kind of surprise attack.
And war was a possibility. Knowing that blowhard in charge of Venezuela, he would be all too eager to use this as a pretext for war. He could do such a thing, for he knew that, no matter what happened, the United States would back him. Still, there was no good reason in Dewey’s eyes why he should be so eager for one. It wasn’t as if the British were pushovers.
In fact, and he felt horrible for thinking this, as he was a patriot, the British might be able to beat the United States. Not while I’m on duty, he thought. He was worried though. If war broke out with the British tomorrow–no, wait, if it broke out several days ago, because news traveled slowly–then he and the rest of the Asiatic Squadron would need to face a larger British force nearby, at the port of Hong Kong. The U.S. presence was significant, meaning it could, with skill and luck, defeat the British at Hong Kong. However, there was little he could do after that. The British held Singapore, Australia, India; countless places from which they could launch an effort to defeat the Asiatic Squadron. Come to think of it, there is really nothing much we could do, even if we defeated all of those forces arrayed against us, he concluded. That was not exactly true. Discovering what he was wrong about would take a long time.
"Commodore, sir. Ensign Tanner, requesting permission to speak sir," yelled a sailor who burst into the room. Dewey would have scolded him for the disturbance, yet it was a public room, and the doors were open.
"At ease, soldier. Permission granted."
"Thank you, sir," he said, smiling. Dewey commanded a great deal of respect and admiration here. "Commodore, sir, Rear Admiral Frederick V. McNair has ordered that you report to him immediately."
Dewey paused a moment, then stood up. "Alright."
"Sir?"
"Dismissed, Ensign."
"Yes sir!" he said, which was accompanied by a bow, and followed by his departure. The Commodore couldn’t help but chuckle, as he remembered when he was like that. Hoisting himself to his 58-year old legs, he walked leisurely to the bridge of the docked ship. When he entered the room to find his superior and many of the Captains of the individual ships, he knew two things. The first was that he was late. The second was that something important was going on.
Few of the men paid any heed to him, and he quietly took his seat. The Rear Admiral continued in his briefing. "Thus, we must begin to depart. It is no longer safe in Canton. Should war come, the British would be able to seal us inside the Pearl River delta, something which would render us useless until we could break out."
"Sir," began Captain Fentyre, an Irishman by ancestry who was still relatively new to his post, "assuming we have the opportunity to get a jump on the British, will we attack Hong Kong?"
"Captain, you should know we couldn’t do such a thing. Both Hong Kong and Canton are Chinese ports. While Britain may officially own Hong Kong, the Chinese still see it as theirs, and I doubt they would take kindly to us harming their port. No matter how much influence we have here, or they have there, all of our potential bases are still just that on Chinese goodwill. And while the Chinese don’t have much strength, we need the use of their ports, as we don’t have any of our own in the region. If we attacked them as you said, the President would have my ass. It’s the same for the British."
"Of course, sir. My apologies, sir."
"Moving on," said McNair. "We are evacuating this port, no exceptions, to avoid being trapped."
"Sir," opened Dewey, who, despite his arriving late, was quite attentive, "where are we to sail until then."
"Fine question. We are sailing to Haikou, the capital of a tiny island near Indochina called Hainan. Haikou was recently made an open port by treaty with China."
"Thank you, sir." He drifted into thought. Indochina, eh? Those frogs in charge there probably wouldn’t mind letting us go to the dogs. All those Europeans want to see us knocked down a peg. Then he became more thoughtful. Then again, they aren’t too friendly with the British, are they? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he would be willing to bet on it.
McNair had been speaking the whole time. "Meeting dismissed," he said decisively, and perhaps to wake up those like Dewey who had only been paying attention halfheartedly, he dropped the many heavy books and papers he was carrying at once onto the table. They came down with a loud THUD, which jolted Dewey back into the world. All of the men stood up, some slower than others, and most left. However, Dewey went over to McNair to have a personal talk with him.
The Rear Admiral who commanded the Asiatic Squadron was a man of fine character. His countenance gave off the impression that he was always sad, yet he was generally a happy fellow, one who simply didn’t smile. He was known to enjoy a joke or two, and would toss some very funny ones out in every conversation, yet he certainly had a serious side. McNair didn’t care as much about discipline and protocol as some of the other officers Dewey knew, yet when he punished you, he made sure that you would regret whatever it was you had done. Dewey remembered, for instance, a young Lieutenant Commander who had displayed flagrant insubordination. McNair had him stripped down to his trousers, and forced him to stand at the bow of the ship during a cold winter sail in the South China Sea. The boy caught quite a nasty cold, and was actually lucky he hadn’t caught anything more severe. After all, he was forced to stay out there, standing in the same position for an hour. Guards were posted to make sure that he didn’t leave, or so much as sit down. He learned his lesson.
But Dewey and McNair went way back. They were only two years apart in age, and had known each other as coworkers for many years. Of course, McNair had always been his superior, but Dewey was just fine with that. After all, he deserved it.
"Admiral McNair, sir," he said, preferring to shorten his rank to make it easier, although that made him seem higher up than he was. "May I have a word?"
"Ah, Commodore Dewey, of course!" They sat down at the table which had just been the center of the conference. "What’s on your mind, Commodore?"
"Well, sir, let me start off by asking if you think it is going to come to war between us and Britain."
"That is not for us to yet know. If you want my personal opinion, then I shall say yes, as something was bound to spark it. It has been in the making for a long time."
"Of course, sir. My next question is, what do you think of our chances against the British?"
"That is a tough one. The British have sizable reserves and a well built-up economy, as well as a thriving Empire which includes Canada directly to America’s north. For our part, we have–"
"My apologies for interrupting sir, but I have to say, that isn’t what I was talking about. I meant, do we, the Asiatic Squadron, have a chance of defeating the British out here?"
"I can not speak for certain of that either, Commodore. As a patriot, I have to say we can destroy them, and as a soldier, I have to say we would beat them, but as a man, I can not know. Hong Kong wouldn’t be much of a problem, as they do not have a large naval presence there, but Singapore and Australia are other issues."
"Do you really think that they would send ships and men all the way from Australia, sir?"
"The British aren’t dumb, soldier. So long as they have the ships and the men in those areas to dedicate tot his, they will strive to eliminate us. We can only hope that we have God on our side."
That brought a short pause. "Sir, we have America on our side," Dewey finally said. That made McNair look up.
"That’s enough, Commodore. It must be."
Another great update. Just a few questions;
1) How many ships are in the American fleet(as compared to the British)
2) I thought Commedore was only a British term? Probably isn't, I just never heard it.
Keep up the good work!
1) How many ships are in the American fleet(as compared to the British)
2) I thought Commedore was only a British term? Probably isn't, I just never heard it.
Keep up the good work!
Baskilisk
Banned
It's something we silly Americans inherited from the Brits.
Like most elements of our culture.
I can not give definite figures for either as of yet, as I am not entirely sure.
The best thing I can tell you, however, is the warship tonnage of each power in the year 1900.
Britain - 1,065,000
France - 499,000
Russia - 383,000
United States - 333,000
Germany - 285,000
Italy - 245,000
Japan - 187,000
Austria-Hungary - 87,000
Thank you, Araraya.
Ask and ye shall receive.
But, it is against my policy to put regular chatting and story in the same post, so wait one moment for the next...
Ask and ye shall receive.
But, it is against my policy to put regular chatting and story in the same post, so wait one moment for the next...
Washington D.C., United States of America
July 27, 1896
"That idiot! That moron! How daft can one man possibly be?" asked an enraged President Grover Cleveland, who had on this day decided to get his news from the Washington Post. The headline screamed news of what everyone knew was coming, but Cleveland, in particular, had feared. VENEZUELA DECLARES WAR ON UNITED KINGDOM! The idiot, as Cleveland called him, responsible, was none other than Joaquín Crespo, President of the nation of Venezuela. Cleveland had always found the man to be a braggart and a bluffer, even humorously so, yet Cleveland wasn’t laughing now.
The article itself was fairly well-written. "President Joaquín Crespo, in a speech to the City of Caracas yesterday, announced that ‘A state of war shall now exist between the Republic of Venezuela, and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. This is in response to years of taking advantage of our love of peace, and thus, disregarding our demands to evacuate what they claim is part of their territory of Guyana, east of the Essequibo River. However, even that is secondary. The primary reason is the violation of our border with armed soldiers. I speak, of course, of the Kaikan Incident. This was no mistake, my citizens. Venezuelan Intelligence tells us the British were preparing for nothing short of a full, armed invasion of Venezuela. Luckily, their advance forces were defeated by the brave men on patrol in our rightful territory. They fought valiantly, and because of that, the invasion was postponed. Yet it can not be put off anymore. Venezuela will not be safe, until we reduce the British presence in the region to a level of near insignificance. Such can only be accomplished by war. Thus, we are entering into armed conflict, in order to hit them before they can hit us. I expect every man over age...’" It went on in a much-expected fashion. Once the excerpt of the speech was done, the other parts were summarized, but analysis was left to the reader. "Later on in the speech, Crespo stated that he expected the other nations of the region to line up behind him, as it would take, in his words, ‘a fool to not realize the significance of this encroachment’." That was a clear shot at America.
The problem was that he was correct. Cleveland didn’t believe for a second that the British were planning to do anything to Venezuela, nor did he think that the Intelligence of Venezuela could be so incompetent as to conclude that. The problem was, he was correct in the sense that the land in question belonged to Venezuela, and even if the border dispute wasn’t worth a war, a border crossing (or several, as this wasn’t the only one), accompanied by the killing of a number of Venezuelan soldiers was a good enough reason, at least in theory. It was enough to animate the public of that nation, although the public very rarely, in any nation, knew what was best for it, or such was the opinion of Cleveland.
And that brought him to the last part of the issue, which was the role of the United States. In truth, it had no place in the dispute, yet in practice as well as in doctrine, America had no choice. The Monroe Doctrine forbade the re- colonization of the "New World" by European Powers . Not. One. Inch. If the British gained what they sought, they would be gaining many miles of territory, which fell, in American eyes, under the jurisdiction of "re-colonization". Thus, the United States had argued with Britain for years, yet neither side had been willing to budge. After all that it had invested in the matter, the United States would be viewed as a coward and a deserter the world-round.
Of course, the news was far from unexpected. Cleveland had been in correspondence with Crespo for the past week or so, and the topic of war was the central issue. Cleveland had promised support, if begrudgingly. The fact of the matter was, neither he, nor most Americans, nor, probably, most Britons, wanted war. But he would stand by his commitments, and so would America.
On that point, he was already in his Presidential Buggy, heading towards Washington Plaza where he was scheduled to speak. He had thought long and hard about what he was to say, as it was certainly to affect the world. While he waited for the vehicle to pull up to his stop, he conversed with the Vice President sitting beside him, the uncomfortably stuffy, angry-looking, Adlai E. Stevenson. Each already knew how the other felt on the issue of the war (they were in agreement). Instead, they discussed the Presidential Election coming up later that year.
"The fact of the matter is, Adlai, we can not afford a change to bimetallism, for that would bring about economic disaster. Besides, a change in what will almost certainly still be a state of war would be most unwise."
"Bimetallism can only bring prosperity, Cleveland," he defied, calling his superior and partner by his surname. "Bah, there is no getting to you!"
"I could say the same of you." It was unusual for them to disagree, but this was one matter that provoked great passion.
"It is obvious that we aren’t going to settle this today, so let’s stop beating around the bush, and get to the central issue; the war."
"I couldn’t agree more." They had gone over the plans again and again, yet America was about to hear them for the first time. For a while, they discussed it (again), and then the silence set in again. That was just fine with Cleveland, who had a hard time not laughing at the speech of Stevenson, for it was so muffled by his mustache and his lisp, that it was nearly incoherent. Cleveland spent the rest of the ride taking in the sights.
Eventually, after roughly 20 minutes in the buggy, the VIP’s arrived at their appointed destination. While waiting for the driver to run around and open his door, the President placed his top hat upon his head, fastened the buttons on his Norfolk jacket, and took a deep breath. The door swung open, Cleveland rotated his legs and his body, and stepped out into the world.
He took his seat near the podium, and listened to his perfunctory introduction. Then he walked to the podium, and shuffled through his papers. Grover Cleveland took another deep breath, as he always did before he spoke, and took a good look at the audience. It was full of reporters and some concerned citizens. He began.
"Citizens of Washington D.C., citizens of the world, heed my words. You may have heard that the world’s newest conflict has erupted. You may have heard that Britain launched an invasion of Venezuela. You may have heard that a general mobilization has begun. Well, my fellow Americans, all of these things are true."
"Just two days ago, our brave ally, President Crespo of Venezuela, said in a speech that a state of war was to exist between Venezuela and the United Kingdom. This may seem, to some of you, who do not know the situation, like an act of belligerence, but I assure you, the belligerence was completely the fault of the British. For they are the ones who launched an attack on Venezuela, one that was just barely stopped in time by the brave soldiers of the region.
However, the threat has not yet passed, and the Venezuelan people can not live in fear of the day when the attack shall come in full force. It is our responsibility as the champion of liberty, democracy, and the rights of sovereign states, to stand up for Venezuela, even when it can not do so for itself.
"We are fortunate enough, however, to have an ally with such a courageous leader and populace, for they are willing to try to stand up for themselves, even with no guarantee of support from anyone. Yet they will not need to stand alone against the tyranny of the British Empire, for they have an ally in the form of America." That brought about the noise of furious scribbling on the part of the reporters.
"Thus, if Britain will not yield, neither shall we. I have already consulted Congress, and they have approved of the desired actions. As of today, a state of war shall exist between the United States of America and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland."
"May God give us strength, the strength to see this conflict through until the end, the strength to strike fear into the hearts of our foes, the strength that will show Britain, that the Americas are no longer their stomping grounds. For their own sake, let us hope they see the error of their ways soon, and repent. The Americas, are for America."
He took a long pause between that and his next paragraph, allowing the crowd time for applause. He then set about underlining the war plans. "I have gone through intense deliberations with Secretary of War, Daniel Lamont," he pointed to the official in question, "and we, as well as the top generals, have come to an agreement regarding general strategy."
He gave some hints of objectives (the "adjustment" of the border between Venezuela and Guyana being the main one) , but he would have been a fool to give away general strategy. What it came down to was as follows: the United States would send an expedition to assist the Venezuelans in taking their rightful territories in Guyana. That was it. The US Navy would seek out and destroy the British Royal Navy wherever and whenever it could, yet beyond that, there was little. Most of the Generals had suggested– nay, demanded– an invasion of Canada, indeed of all British territories within reach. When he refused to allow it, they ventured to insult him and say he understood nothing of war. While that was probably true, they understood nothing of politics. He sought to contain what he had just helped create. There was no enmity between the peoples of America and those of Canada. Why should there be? A sort of gentlemen’s agreement between him and the new Prime Minister of Canada, Wilfrid Laurier, had ensured that no violence would occur along their borders. His goal now was to spare as many American lives as he could. If a few generals disagreed with him, what did he care?
He wasn’t sure what he would tell the people of America. He hoped the war lasted a short while, for in that time, he could convince them that the military was preparing. Yet if it lasted too long, which would be a problem in its own right, they wouldn’t be inclined to believe such lies anymore. That left the Navy. He would have to draft a lot of letters in the next few hours. As soon as he returned to the White House, he began.
The first was to Frederick McNair, leader of the Asiatic Squadron. He would need to know of the plans, as would the other officers he sent letters to. Then there was Nelson Miles, the Lieutenant General who was to be placed in charge of the United States Army on the Canadian border. He would have to know not to take action. Still, Cleveland was no fool. He was to have the forces along said border built up, just in case it did come to active war with Canada, something he knew was a possibility. He needed to write one to President Crespo of Venezuela, discussing further cooperation in many areas and the war as well. Admiral Winfield Scott Schley would need to be aware of the oncoming war as soon as possible, and in as much detail as possible, for he would command the United States Navy in the Atlantic. Admiral William Sampson would command the Caribbean theater, and as a result, he, too, would be contacted. Last but not least was Major General William Rufus Shafter, who would command the United States Expeditionary Force, that would operate in Guyana. Once that was done, it would surely be late. Luckily, he had already issued the basic orders for war. Patriotic advertisements, urging enlistment in the Armed Forces, would be posted, money would be allocated to the necessary places, and all of the other rigamarole associated with beginning a war would take place.
Later that night, as he prepared to go to sleep, his heart was heavy, and it was apparent on his face. "What’s wrong, Grover?" asked his wife.
"Ah, Frances. I fear I have just unleashed a beast upon a giant."
She understood. "Between a beast and a giant, who is the stronger? And who is the giant? Us or Britain?"
"For the life of me, I know not."
July 27, 1896
"That idiot! That moron! How daft can one man possibly be?" asked an enraged President Grover Cleveland, who had on this day decided to get his news from the Washington Post. The headline screamed news of what everyone knew was coming, but Cleveland, in particular, had feared. VENEZUELA DECLARES WAR ON UNITED KINGDOM! The idiot, as Cleveland called him, responsible, was none other than Joaquín Crespo, President of the nation of Venezuela. Cleveland had always found the man to be a braggart and a bluffer, even humorously so, yet Cleveland wasn’t laughing now.
The article itself was fairly well-written. "President Joaquín Crespo, in a speech to the City of Caracas yesterday, announced that ‘A state of war shall now exist between the Republic of Venezuela, and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. This is in response to years of taking advantage of our love of peace, and thus, disregarding our demands to evacuate what they claim is part of their territory of Guyana, east of the Essequibo River. However, even that is secondary. The primary reason is the violation of our border with armed soldiers. I speak, of course, of the Kaikan Incident. This was no mistake, my citizens. Venezuelan Intelligence tells us the British were preparing for nothing short of a full, armed invasion of Venezuela. Luckily, their advance forces were defeated by the brave men on patrol in our rightful territory. They fought valiantly, and because of that, the invasion was postponed. Yet it can not be put off anymore. Venezuela will not be safe, until we reduce the British presence in the region to a level of near insignificance. Such can only be accomplished by war. Thus, we are entering into armed conflict, in order to hit them before they can hit us. I expect every man over age...’" It went on in a much-expected fashion. Once the excerpt of the speech was done, the other parts were summarized, but analysis was left to the reader. "Later on in the speech, Crespo stated that he expected the other nations of the region to line up behind him, as it would take, in his words, ‘a fool to not realize the significance of this encroachment’." That was a clear shot at America.
The problem was that he was correct. Cleveland didn’t believe for a second that the British were planning to do anything to Venezuela, nor did he think that the Intelligence of Venezuela could be so incompetent as to conclude that. The problem was, he was correct in the sense that the land in question belonged to Venezuela, and even if the border dispute wasn’t worth a war, a border crossing (or several, as this wasn’t the only one), accompanied by the killing of a number of Venezuelan soldiers was a good enough reason, at least in theory. It was enough to animate the public of that nation, although the public very rarely, in any nation, knew what was best for it, or such was the opinion of Cleveland.
And that brought him to the last part of the issue, which was the role of the United States. In truth, it had no place in the dispute, yet in practice as well as in doctrine, America had no choice. The Monroe Doctrine forbade the re- colonization of the "New World" by European Powers . Not. One. Inch. If the British gained what they sought, they would be gaining many miles of territory, which fell, in American eyes, under the jurisdiction of "re-colonization". Thus, the United States had argued with Britain for years, yet neither side had been willing to budge. After all that it had invested in the matter, the United States would be viewed as a coward and a deserter the world-round.
Of course, the news was far from unexpected. Cleveland had been in correspondence with Crespo for the past week or so, and the topic of war was the central issue. Cleveland had promised support, if begrudgingly. The fact of the matter was, neither he, nor most Americans, nor, probably, most Britons, wanted war. But he would stand by his commitments, and so would America.
On that point, he was already in his Presidential Buggy, heading towards Washington Plaza where he was scheduled to speak. He had thought long and hard about what he was to say, as it was certainly to affect the world. While he waited for the vehicle to pull up to his stop, he conversed with the Vice President sitting beside him, the uncomfortably stuffy, angry-looking, Adlai E. Stevenson. Each already knew how the other felt on the issue of the war (they were in agreement). Instead, they discussed the Presidential Election coming up later that year.
"The fact of the matter is, Adlai, we can not afford a change to bimetallism, for that would bring about economic disaster. Besides, a change in what will almost certainly still be a state of war would be most unwise."
"Bimetallism can only bring prosperity, Cleveland," he defied, calling his superior and partner by his surname. "Bah, there is no getting to you!"
"I could say the same of you." It was unusual for them to disagree, but this was one matter that provoked great passion.
"It is obvious that we aren’t going to settle this today, so let’s stop beating around the bush, and get to the central issue; the war."
"I couldn’t agree more." They had gone over the plans again and again, yet America was about to hear them for the first time. For a while, they discussed it (again), and then the silence set in again. That was just fine with Cleveland, who had a hard time not laughing at the speech of Stevenson, for it was so muffled by his mustache and his lisp, that it was nearly incoherent. Cleveland spent the rest of the ride taking in the sights.
Eventually, after roughly 20 minutes in the buggy, the VIP’s arrived at their appointed destination. While waiting for the driver to run around and open his door, the President placed his top hat upon his head, fastened the buttons on his Norfolk jacket, and took a deep breath. The door swung open, Cleveland rotated his legs and his body, and stepped out into the world.
He took his seat near the podium, and listened to his perfunctory introduction. Then he walked to the podium, and shuffled through his papers. Grover Cleveland took another deep breath, as he always did before he spoke, and took a good look at the audience. It was full of reporters and some concerned citizens. He began.
"Citizens of Washington D.C., citizens of the world, heed my words. You may have heard that the world’s newest conflict has erupted. You may have heard that Britain launched an invasion of Venezuela. You may have heard that a general mobilization has begun. Well, my fellow Americans, all of these things are true."
"Just two days ago, our brave ally, President Crespo of Venezuela, said in a speech that a state of war was to exist between Venezuela and the United Kingdom. This may seem, to some of you, who do not know the situation, like an act of belligerence, but I assure you, the belligerence was completely the fault of the British. For they are the ones who launched an attack on Venezuela, one that was just barely stopped in time by the brave soldiers of the region.
However, the threat has not yet passed, and the Venezuelan people can not live in fear of the day when the attack shall come in full force. It is our responsibility as the champion of liberty, democracy, and the rights of sovereign states, to stand up for Venezuela, even when it can not do so for itself.
"We are fortunate enough, however, to have an ally with such a courageous leader and populace, for they are willing to try to stand up for themselves, even with no guarantee of support from anyone. Yet they will not need to stand alone against the tyranny of the British Empire, for they have an ally in the form of America." That brought about the noise of furious scribbling on the part of the reporters.
"Thus, if Britain will not yield, neither shall we. I have already consulted Congress, and they have approved of the desired actions. As of today, a state of war shall exist between the United States of America and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland."
"May God give us strength, the strength to see this conflict through until the end, the strength to strike fear into the hearts of our foes, the strength that will show Britain, that the Americas are no longer their stomping grounds. For their own sake, let us hope they see the error of their ways soon, and repent. The Americas, are for America."
He took a long pause between that and his next paragraph, allowing the crowd time for applause. He then set about underlining the war plans. "I have gone through intense deliberations with Secretary of War, Daniel Lamont," he pointed to the official in question, "and we, as well as the top generals, have come to an agreement regarding general strategy."
He gave some hints of objectives (the "adjustment" of the border between Venezuela and Guyana being the main one) , but he would have been a fool to give away general strategy. What it came down to was as follows: the United States would send an expedition to assist the Venezuelans in taking their rightful territories in Guyana. That was it. The US Navy would seek out and destroy the British Royal Navy wherever and whenever it could, yet beyond that, there was little. Most of the Generals had suggested– nay, demanded– an invasion of Canada, indeed of all British territories within reach. When he refused to allow it, they ventured to insult him and say he understood nothing of war. While that was probably true, they understood nothing of politics. He sought to contain what he had just helped create. There was no enmity between the peoples of America and those of Canada. Why should there be? A sort of gentlemen’s agreement between him and the new Prime Minister of Canada, Wilfrid Laurier, had ensured that no violence would occur along their borders. His goal now was to spare as many American lives as he could. If a few generals disagreed with him, what did he care?
He wasn’t sure what he would tell the people of America. He hoped the war lasted a short while, for in that time, he could convince them that the military was preparing. Yet if it lasted too long, which would be a problem in its own right, they wouldn’t be inclined to believe such lies anymore. That left the Navy. He would have to draft a lot of letters in the next few hours. As soon as he returned to the White House, he began.
The first was to Frederick McNair, leader of the Asiatic Squadron. He would need to know of the plans, as would the other officers he sent letters to. Then there was Nelson Miles, the Lieutenant General who was to be placed in charge of the United States Army on the Canadian border. He would have to know not to take action. Still, Cleveland was no fool. He was to have the forces along said border built up, just in case it did come to active war with Canada, something he knew was a possibility. He needed to write one to President Crespo of Venezuela, discussing further cooperation in many areas and the war as well. Admiral Winfield Scott Schley would need to be aware of the oncoming war as soon as possible, and in as much detail as possible, for he would command the United States Navy in the Atlantic. Admiral William Sampson would command the Caribbean theater, and as a result, he, too, would be contacted. Last but not least was Major General William Rufus Shafter, who would command the United States Expeditionary Force, that would operate in Guyana. Once that was done, it would surely be late. Luckily, he had already issued the basic orders for war. Patriotic advertisements, urging enlistment in the Armed Forces, would be posted, money would be allocated to the necessary places, and all of the other rigamarole associated with beginning a war would take place.
Later that night, as he prepared to go to sleep, his heart was heavy, and it was apparent on his face. "What’s wrong, Grover?" asked his wife.
"Ah, Frances. I fear I have just unleashed a beast upon a giant."
She understood. "Between a beast and a giant, who is the stronger? And who is the giant? Us or Britain?"
"For the life of me, I know not."
Last edited:
My apologies; I just realized that I have some sort of odd fetish for commas, in case it wasn't apparent.
Edit: And thanks for reading.
Edit: And thanks for reading.
Ah! The suspense is killing me! How will the war go!
I'm rooting for America!
I'm rooting for America!
And per my Commission I'm rooting for the Confederacy ... .
oops wrong War.But this will take the place of the SAW for pulling the parts of the US together.
With Britain at War, and the troops Primed --?Could whe have a bloodier Fashoda?
Unless something happens to enlarge the War
The Cuban will win with out US interference. A Chance for a more stable Cuba.No Canal, To Get to the Pacific, The US has to go south past the British Falklands, or South Past British SAfrica.
Ever notice how many of the little islands like St Helena are British, Dating from the need for round the World Coaling Stations.
in 1895 the US was welcome to use these, in 1896 TTL that is a No No.
?Isn't Hawaii Still independent, with Pearl Leased.? 7 Decembre 1896 - A Day that will live in Infamy
I thought the US Fleet would sail for Japan, the 1860's Friendship Treaty is still in Affect.
?Why do I think this is Foreshadowing?
And per my Commission I'm rooting for the Confederacy ... .
But this will take the place of the SAW for pulling the parts of the US together.
With Britain at War, and the troops Primed --?Could whe have a bloodier Fashoda?
Unless something happens to enlarge the War
No Canal, To Get to the Pacific, The US has to go south past the British Falklands, or South Past British SAfrica.
Ever notice how many of the little islands like St Helena are British, Dating from the need for round the World Coaling Stations.
in 1895 the US was welcome to use these, in 1896 TTL that is a No No.
?Isn't Hawaii Still independent, with Pearl Leased.? 7 Decembre 1896 - A Day that will live in Infamy
I thought the US Fleet would sail for Japan, the 1860's Friendship Treaty is still in Affect.
?Why do I think this is Foreshadowing?
I won't say which part of that was on par with my line of thinking in terms of where the story is going, but I can say that you are a fine soothsayer.
Alright, I am about to post another update. The only reason I am posting this now is to excuse myself for any blatant anachronisms in the next piece. What I mean is that I wrote this while having almost no concept of how Parliament actually operates. Let's hope I wasn't too far off.
Also, in case it is not yet apparent, you should refrain from reading my pieces immediately after I post them. Give me a minute or two to change it so that it works for this forum (obviously, indents and paragraphs don't carry over from word, so it must be manually changed right before posting it).
Also, in case it is not yet apparent, you should refrain from reading my pieces immediately after I post them. Give me a minute or two to change it so that it works for this forum (obviously, indents and paragraphs don't carry over from word, so it must be manually changed right before posting it).
Westminster Palace, London, United Kingdom
July 30, 1896
Arthur Balfour was a very tired man. It was mostly due to the long day of work he’d had, but the fact that Parliament had been in session for the past 5 hours
certainly didn’t help. He blamed the war. Then again, there was little else to blame, and it truly was the war’s fault.
"Reviewing the motion to pledge £ 300,000 to the war." said the Right Honourable William Gully, 1st Viscount Selby, Speaker of the House of Commons, in his usual dull tone.
"I request the floor!" announced Sir Elliot Lees, the usually insignificant Baronet of Birkenhead.
"Granted. The Honorable Representative from Birkenhead has the floor."
"My fellow Parliamentarians, I submit that there is no reason to approve of these proposed funds. The ignominious framing of the British government by the Venezuelans was an insult, but this issue is hardly pressing. We have more important things to worry about, such as the resurgent Mahdists in the Sudan, and the angry Boer states, who are making a fuss about the Jameson Raid. These Venezuelans have declared war, and have even recruited the Americans, yet neither of these nations has the audacity nor the tenacity to carry out an invasion of our territory. We could get by in merely supplementing our soldiers in Guyana with reinforcements, and waiting out the storm. Furthermore, the United States economy can not handle a war. It is too caught up in issues of Gold and Silver, and, if you look at the Panic of 1893, as they call it there, their economy is susceptible to collapse simply by small over-extension of railroad laying." He sat back down.
"I request the floor!" shouted David Lloyd George, a Liberal member for Carnarvon. He was an upstart in Balfour’s eyes, but they agreed on most issues, and Lloyd George was a kind man with a lot of potential, a man who Balfour could tell was going places. He made the demand in his easily distinguishable Welsh accent.
"Granted. The Honorable Representative from Carnarvon has the floor."
"Thank you. Gentleman, the Representative from Birkenhead, while an intelligent man, lacks substance in his arguments. The United States of America has one of the most powerful economies in the world, and, while I hate to admit it, it has the capacity to surpass our own, if it has not done so already. It has the ability to wage war. It’s population, while I would not call it so great and brave as our own, is much larger, and thus, it has the ability to draft a larger army due to greater manpower. Its resources, which, so far as any man can tell are unlimited, would allow them to carry out a war indefinitely. Face the facts; America has been blessed."
"However, I am a patriot to my last breath, and I do not mean to say that we can not win. On the contrary, we may very well defeat the Americans on the high seas, and, perhaps as a result, even on land. Yet that would require the full support of the nation, and the dedication of all the people, including those," he glanced back at Birkenhead, "in this Parliament. Our hope lies in a quick, decisive action which could cripple the American ability to wage war, at least temporarily, and in that time given to us, we could negotiate an end to the conflict before it expands"
"What do I mean?" he asked rhetorically. "Well, we have all heard of the underhanded attempts by Wilfrid Laurier to negotiate a cease-fire without going through the proper procedures. For now, we have ignored that, because we want peace, as, I truly believe, do the Americans. Yet if the opening months aren’t decisive, then we could be drawn into a quagmire to which there is no visible end. We would face a war on countless fronts, including Canada and in the Caribbean. Nobody wants that. Thank you." He finished and sat down.
"I request the floor!" shouted Robert Yerburgh, Conservative Member for Chester.
"So granted. The Honorable Member for Chester has the floor."
"Thank you." He took a second to gather his thoughts, which allowed Balfour time to prepare. Yerburgh was well-known for being a sesquipedalian. "Reputable constituents of this most venerable assembly, we must support the eminent soldiers who promulgate the Common Law, who march round the Union Jack from Canada to the South Pacific. We can not, in the process, neglect the outstanding dedication of our sons in the less prominent parts, for they, too, have served with honor, and we can not toss away so easily that which they have held. Should these soldiers, after years of vigilant servitude, we would only be rendering useless all that they have done for the great British Empire. Thank you." he ended his spiel.
"Furthermore, we can not–" interrupted Sir Henry Fletcher of Lewes.
"Silence, Sir Fletcher. You speak out of turn." scolded the Speaker of the House.
"I demand the floor." asserted Henry Wilson of Holmfirth.
The Speaker was taken aback, but acquiesced. "Granted. The Honorable Representative from Holmfirth has the floor."
Wilson wasted no time, and actually neared the point of overlapping the Speaker’s sentence. "Gentlemen, we can not hope for a campaign from Canada to succeed, nor can we harm the Americans from our Naval bases at Bermuda."
Sir Fletcher interjected again. He never seemed to learn his lesson. "No one was even talking about Canada. And all I hear from you is defeatism."
"Sir Fletcher," screamed Speaker Gully, who had failed to keep his normal composure, "if you speak out of turn again, I will have you ejected."
But it was too late. "I agree with Baronet Fletcher," announced James Rankin of Leominster, also out of turn. He and Fletcher were good friends, and there constituencies were only one apart alphabetically. His was not the only faux-pas (if you could call it that). Conversation erupted around the room, though more of it was (hypocritically) about how disruptive the two were than the issue itself. All around Balfour, who had remained silent throughout the proceedings, were whispered the words "war" and "strategy". Apparently, Salisbury, who had also stayed calmly in place throughout the day, was equally disturbed by the unprofessionalism of their peers. It could be seen on his face.
Therefore, he cleared his throat, braced himself, stood up, and released. "Ach-hem" he uttered, an obviously exaggerated attempt at clearing his throat. That immediately quieted most of the room. Without looking up from the floor at which he was staring intently, he shouted confidently "Correct me if I am wrong, Speaker, but I could have sworn that the role of this Parliament is to decide whether or not we are going to finance this war. The last time I checked, iscussing strategy had nothing to do with finance." That silenced the rest. Now, he looked up. "Any attempt by this house to formulate strategy would be folly of the greatest caliber. Not one of us here is a General, and," he glanced at some choice members of both the Opposition, and his own party, "after listening to some of your plans, I consider that a blessing indeed." That got a good chuckle out of the usually starchy Members of Parliament.
The feuding Britons sat down. "Lord Salisbury is correct. And I suppose it is time for us, after so much consideration, to cast our votes." They did just that. The men, after a day of arguments and discussions on a variety of subjects, cast their votes and went home. At this hour, there weren’t too many people on the streets, save the criminals, the courtesans, and of course, their clients. As a result, the cops were out too. Beyond that, the average man was few and far between– literally. During his early days in London he would be afraid to walk the streets at night, as he was unused to such a large city. This wore off after a few months. When Jack the Ripper emerged, it returned, but luckily, he didn’t need to cover much distance to get from Westminster to his home. Jack wouldn’t have been after him anyway.
Balfour loved nights like these. The moon was full and the sky was dark, but not too dark. The temperature was perfectly fixed at a point where it was neither hot nor cold. He took his time strolling home, but did not skip the detour through the park, not so much because it shortened his walk as because the scenery was both plain and beautiful. On this perfect night, he attempted to complete the mood by adding music, his own rendition of Spanish Rhapsody. It was, at best, decent, but he didn’t care.
As he came to the end of his walk, he was so into his own whistling that he had begun twirling his cane to the tune. When he walked into the house, Arthur was surprised to discover his dog, an 8-year old Greyhound, waiting there for him, faithfully. If only you were a woman, he thought helplessly. "Hey, boy." The dog ran up to him and jumped up, despite what he had attempted to teach him, that he was not to do such things. Then again, they were familiar, and he had only imprinted the habit, if at all, regarding strangers and visitors. He fed his friend, and then went upstairs to his bed.
On the next day, he awoke at 8:00 on the dot. After breakfast (eggs, nothing special), he had enough time to take another walk to the park and catch up on his reading (Ecce Homo by Nietzsche) before Parliament was scheduled to reconvene. Balfour then proceeded to take a horse and carriage to Westminster Hall, where he was delighted to find that he was one of the earlier Members there. Unfortunately, that meant that he had a longer time to wait, as he discovered he had arrived too early.
When all were gathered, the session picked up again. "Concerning the vote yesterday pertaining to the motion to pledge..." he put down his papers, searched in his pockets for his bifocals, and put them on before continuing. "...to pledge £ 300,000 to the war. The votes were as follows: 405 votes for yes, 265 votes for no." The usual sighing took place, some of it from relief, some from disappointment. For Balfour, it was relief. He had voted with his uncle, and apparently, most of the others had as well.
"Well then, that settles it. The £ 300,000 are to be allocated as necessary to finance the war." Balfour found out later what the situation was. More than half of the Conservatives, as well as close to all Liberal Unionists, a good number of Liberals (such as David Lloyd George) and almost every Irish Parliamentarian had voted yes, but most Liberals, as well as some Conservatives had voted no. The victory was by no means remarkable. In fact, in his estimates, Balfour had expected almost exactly what happened. However, what occurred still made him happy.
That, unfortunately, was later spoiled when he ran into Joseph Chamberlain. "Do you know what you’ve just done?"
"Mr. Chamberlain, I do believe I’ve just helped finance a war."
"Mr. Balfour, have you financed a victory?"
"Is any war a victory, Mr. Chamberlain?"
"My point, exactly."
July 30, 1896
Arthur Balfour was a very tired man. It was mostly due to the long day of work he’d had, but the fact that Parliament had been in session for the past 5 hours
certainly didn’t help. He blamed the war. Then again, there was little else to blame, and it truly was the war’s fault.
"Reviewing the motion to pledge £ 300,000 to the war." said the Right Honourable William Gully, 1st Viscount Selby, Speaker of the House of Commons, in his usual dull tone.
"I request the floor!" announced Sir Elliot Lees, the usually insignificant Baronet of Birkenhead.
"Granted. The Honorable Representative from Birkenhead has the floor."
"My fellow Parliamentarians, I submit that there is no reason to approve of these proposed funds. The ignominious framing of the British government by the Venezuelans was an insult, but this issue is hardly pressing. We have more important things to worry about, such as the resurgent Mahdists in the Sudan, and the angry Boer states, who are making a fuss about the Jameson Raid. These Venezuelans have declared war, and have even recruited the Americans, yet neither of these nations has the audacity nor the tenacity to carry out an invasion of our territory. We could get by in merely supplementing our soldiers in Guyana with reinforcements, and waiting out the storm. Furthermore, the United States economy can not handle a war. It is too caught up in issues of Gold and Silver, and, if you look at the Panic of 1893, as they call it there, their economy is susceptible to collapse simply by small over-extension of railroad laying." He sat back down.
"I request the floor!" shouted David Lloyd George, a Liberal member for Carnarvon. He was an upstart in Balfour’s eyes, but they agreed on most issues, and Lloyd George was a kind man with a lot of potential, a man who Balfour could tell was going places. He made the demand in his easily distinguishable Welsh accent.
"Granted. The Honorable Representative from Carnarvon has the floor."
"Thank you. Gentleman, the Representative from Birkenhead, while an intelligent man, lacks substance in his arguments. The United States of America has one of the most powerful economies in the world, and, while I hate to admit it, it has the capacity to surpass our own, if it has not done so already. It has the ability to wage war. It’s population, while I would not call it so great and brave as our own, is much larger, and thus, it has the ability to draft a larger army due to greater manpower. Its resources, which, so far as any man can tell are unlimited, would allow them to carry out a war indefinitely. Face the facts; America has been blessed."
"However, I am a patriot to my last breath, and I do not mean to say that we can not win. On the contrary, we may very well defeat the Americans on the high seas, and, perhaps as a result, even on land. Yet that would require the full support of the nation, and the dedication of all the people, including those," he glanced back at Birkenhead, "in this Parliament. Our hope lies in a quick, decisive action which could cripple the American ability to wage war, at least temporarily, and in that time given to us, we could negotiate an end to the conflict before it expands"
"What do I mean?" he asked rhetorically. "Well, we have all heard of the underhanded attempts by Wilfrid Laurier to negotiate a cease-fire without going through the proper procedures. For now, we have ignored that, because we want peace, as, I truly believe, do the Americans. Yet if the opening months aren’t decisive, then we could be drawn into a quagmire to which there is no visible end. We would face a war on countless fronts, including Canada and in the Caribbean. Nobody wants that. Thank you." He finished and sat down.
"I request the floor!" shouted Robert Yerburgh, Conservative Member for Chester.
"So granted. The Honorable Member for Chester has the floor."
"Thank you." He took a second to gather his thoughts, which allowed Balfour time to prepare. Yerburgh was well-known for being a sesquipedalian. "Reputable constituents of this most venerable assembly, we must support the eminent soldiers who promulgate the Common Law, who march round the Union Jack from Canada to the South Pacific. We can not, in the process, neglect the outstanding dedication of our sons in the less prominent parts, for they, too, have served with honor, and we can not toss away so easily that which they have held. Should these soldiers, after years of vigilant servitude, we would only be rendering useless all that they have done for the great British Empire. Thank you." he ended his spiel.
"Furthermore, we can not–" interrupted Sir Henry Fletcher of Lewes.
"Silence, Sir Fletcher. You speak out of turn." scolded the Speaker of the House.
"I demand the floor." asserted Henry Wilson of Holmfirth.
The Speaker was taken aback, but acquiesced. "Granted. The Honorable Representative from Holmfirth has the floor."
Wilson wasted no time, and actually neared the point of overlapping the Speaker’s sentence. "Gentlemen, we can not hope for a campaign from Canada to succeed, nor can we harm the Americans from our Naval bases at Bermuda."
Sir Fletcher interjected again. He never seemed to learn his lesson. "No one was even talking about Canada. And all I hear from you is defeatism."
"Sir Fletcher," screamed Speaker Gully, who had failed to keep his normal composure, "if you speak out of turn again, I will have you ejected."
But it was too late. "I agree with Baronet Fletcher," announced James Rankin of Leominster, also out of turn. He and Fletcher were good friends, and there constituencies were only one apart alphabetically. His was not the only faux-pas (if you could call it that). Conversation erupted around the room, though more of it was (hypocritically) about how disruptive the two were than the issue itself. All around Balfour, who had remained silent throughout the proceedings, were whispered the words "war" and "strategy". Apparently, Salisbury, who had also stayed calmly in place throughout the day, was equally disturbed by the unprofessionalism of their peers. It could be seen on his face.
Therefore, he cleared his throat, braced himself, stood up, and released. "Ach-hem" he uttered, an obviously exaggerated attempt at clearing his throat. That immediately quieted most of the room. Without looking up from the floor at which he was staring intently, he shouted confidently "Correct me if I am wrong, Speaker, but I could have sworn that the role of this Parliament is to decide whether or not we are going to finance this war. The last time I checked, iscussing strategy had nothing to do with finance." That silenced the rest. Now, he looked up. "Any attempt by this house to formulate strategy would be folly of the greatest caliber. Not one of us here is a General, and," he glanced at some choice members of both the Opposition, and his own party, "after listening to some of your plans, I consider that a blessing indeed." That got a good chuckle out of the usually starchy Members of Parliament.
The feuding Britons sat down. "Lord Salisbury is correct. And I suppose it is time for us, after so much consideration, to cast our votes." They did just that. The men, after a day of arguments and discussions on a variety of subjects, cast their votes and went home. At this hour, there weren’t too many people on the streets, save the criminals, the courtesans, and of course, their clients. As a result, the cops were out too. Beyond that, the average man was few and far between– literally. During his early days in London he would be afraid to walk the streets at night, as he was unused to such a large city. This wore off after a few months. When Jack the Ripper emerged, it returned, but luckily, he didn’t need to cover much distance to get from Westminster to his home. Jack wouldn’t have been after him anyway.
Balfour loved nights like these. The moon was full and the sky was dark, but not too dark. The temperature was perfectly fixed at a point where it was neither hot nor cold. He took his time strolling home, but did not skip the detour through the park, not so much because it shortened his walk as because the scenery was both plain and beautiful. On this perfect night, he attempted to complete the mood by adding music, his own rendition of Spanish Rhapsody. It was, at best, decent, but he didn’t care.
As he came to the end of his walk, he was so into his own whistling that he had begun twirling his cane to the tune. When he walked into the house, Arthur was surprised to discover his dog, an 8-year old Greyhound, waiting there for him, faithfully. If only you were a woman, he thought helplessly. "Hey, boy." The dog ran up to him and jumped up, despite what he had attempted to teach him, that he was not to do such things. Then again, they were familiar, and he had only imprinted the habit, if at all, regarding strangers and visitors. He fed his friend, and then went upstairs to his bed.
On the next day, he awoke at 8:00 on the dot. After breakfast (eggs, nothing special), he had enough time to take another walk to the park and catch up on his reading (Ecce Homo by Nietzsche) before Parliament was scheduled to reconvene. Balfour then proceeded to take a horse and carriage to Westminster Hall, where he was delighted to find that he was one of the earlier Members there. Unfortunately, that meant that he had a longer time to wait, as he discovered he had arrived too early.
When all were gathered, the session picked up again. "Concerning the vote yesterday pertaining to the motion to pledge..." he put down his papers, searched in his pockets for his bifocals, and put them on before continuing. "...to pledge £ 300,000 to the war. The votes were as follows: 405 votes for yes, 265 votes for no." The usual sighing took place, some of it from relief, some from disappointment. For Balfour, it was relief. He had voted with his uncle, and apparently, most of the others had as well.
"Well then, that settles it. The £ 300,000 are to be allocated as necessary to finance the war." Balfour found out later what the situation was. More than half of the Conservatives, as well as close to all Liberal Unionists, a good number of Liberals (such as David Lloyd George) and almost every Irish Parliamentarian had voted yes, but most Liberals, as well as some Conservatives had voted no. The victory was by no means remarkable. In fact, in his estimates, Balfour had expected almost exactly what happened. However, what occurred still made him happy.
That, unfortunately, was later spoiled when he ran into Joseph Chamberlain. "Do you know what you’ve just done?"
"Mr. Chamberlain, I do believe I’ve just helped finance a war."
"Mr. Balfour, have you financed a victory?"
"Is any war a victory, Mr. Chamberlain?"
"My point, exactly."
It is in Britains favor but the U.S Navy was pretty good at this time so they might control the coastal waters atleast.
BUMP, just in case you haven't seen the update at the top of this page.
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