Will Elmarism have any manifesto that neatly sums up this ideology?
Elmar's magnum opus will be The Governing Elites (750,000+ words in the original French), but later in life he will write a manifesto called Seize the Wheel of History, which will outline his recommended changes. (Of course, Elmar himself will never use the term "Elmarism" to describe either his theory or his prescriptions, and will discourage his allies from doing so while he lives. To his dying day he will insist that it is simply The Truth, which he did not create any more than Newton created gravitation or Bouvard, Strong, and Pickering created Nyx.)
Interlude: December 23, 1839 (1)
This one is longer than I intended, but still shorter than the first two chapters in the last interlude. Let me know if I missed anything.

DS 1840 world.png

The Dead Skunk
December 23, 1839

Twenty-five years ago today, Major General John Keane saw something in the Louisiana woods that caused him to make a different decision than he otherwise would have.
Let’s take a look at the general state of the world.

Russian America and the Canadas
Russian America is still along way from Russia proper… or anywhere else. Sometime next year they’ll get the word that the market for furs is back. This will be good news for the dissidents living out in the Seraya Gavan’[1] area, once they’ve learned to trap.

In the meantime, the Pushkins are still living in Novoarkhangelsk[2]. Recently a Dutch vessel pulled in with nine-month-old newspapers from Europe. Reading their takes on the repression in Poland sent Pushkin into a rage.

That may seem weird, but Pushkin is a patriot. The only thing he hates more than the tyranny of Tsar Alexander is hearing that same tyranny maligned by French people who still worship the Corsican Bandit’s embalmed corpse and Germans who would probably all be speaking French by now if not for the force of Russian arms. And besides, there’s a weird kind of pride that comes from knowing there’s no limit to the stupid bullshit you are capable of enduring at the hands of your Tsar. This explains a lot of Russian history.

Elsewhere in the Pacific Northwest, after over a year at the far end of nowhere, the “Surprisers” finally got their orders to leave. Austin and his fellow Astorians, both in Astoria City and at what they’re now calling Symmesburg, are very relieved to see them go. They may not be so relieved to learn where this regiment is headed—the new city of Charlottehaven[3] which Russell is having built on Vancouver Island.

Also relieved to see the backs of soldiers are the settlers at Port Harmony. They were not really in a position to resist the small companies of Dodge’s militia that occupied them last year, except by hiding their supplies in the woods so they couldn’t be requisitioned. The militia who went out into the woods looking for those supplies got ambushed by Ojibwe. And now, Dodge has gone back to Wisconsing, and the only American soldiers are the surveyors working alongside their British counterparts to catalogue those islands whose status was left unclear by the Treaty of Windsor. For the first time, Port Harmony feels like a community rather than an experiment. It’s a good feeling.

The rest of Her Majesty’s North American possessions are feeling less at ease with one another. Which seems surprising—you’d think they’d be more united than ever before. These people are now defined twice over by loyalty to the Crown. French, British, and natives fought alongside each other against the Americans. At Moncton, the descendants of black and white Loyalists fought as part of the same unit and saved Nova Scotia from invasion. The rebellion in Upper Canada was (as they never tire of repeating) against Lord Auckland and the Clique, not against the empire itself. And with Lord Durham holding court in Halifax, listening to representatives of the various communities, it seems that rebellion has been vindicated. The people of the Maritime Provinces and Upper and Lower Canada have a chance at getting a real say in their destiny—perhaps more so than the Niagarans, whose rebellion has gained them a position as one barely medium-sized state among twenty-six with more to come.

Yet the remnants of the old Compact and Clique still exist, and even those who fought alongside French-speaking Roman Catholics don’t necessarily want to share power with them. Their leader in this is the Anglican bishop John Strachan, who has now moved his diocese to Peterborough.

Strachan wrote a long letter on the subject. He couldn’t just say Hey, don’t we get extra points for being Protestant and having ancestors who came from the British Isles? Do you people really not care about anything other than who fights for you? Instead, he phrased his objections to Durham’s work as concerns about the future of Anglicanism in the Canadas. Then he got Col. Talbot, Sir Adam Thom, John Beverly Robinson, and a bunch of others to sign it, and sent it straight to the Archbishop of Canterbury. After all, the Queen has to listen to the Archbishop, right? Didn’t she swear an oath to defend the faith? They didn’t even run it past Auckland, who could have warned them that the Queen hates Archbishop Howley so much she regularly checks the papers for anything she can use as an excuse to get him sacked.

This month, they received her response:

We are at all times mindful of our duty to defend our Most Holy Church of England from all perils, and require no reminders of this duty from our subjects.[4] We of course shall never allow either this Church or our co-religionists to be subject to tyranny or persecution within our dominions; neither shall we allow them to become the instrument or perpetrators of tyranny. It is this latter peril which concerns us most, for it is both more immediate and more dangerous; whereas to be the subject of tyranny is perilous to mortal flesh, to be the perpetrator thereof is perilous to the immortal soul[5]…​

So… that would be a no, then. For better or worse, they owe allegiance to Her Majesty, have put that allegiance on proud display for the whole world to see, and are therefore subject to all of Her Majesty’s efforts to do good.

Still, the divisions in Canada are nothing compared to the divisions in…

The United States
You’d think that in the aftermath of a short, technically successful war (yes, the U.S. had to go into debt to pay for Niagara, but one day that debt will be repaid and Niagara will still be there) the United States would be more united behind the leader in that war. Instead, the opposite has happened—the U.S. has never been more divided.

Case in point: Chief Justice Sam Smith’s body had barely gotten cold when Berrien appointed his most loyal ally in Congress, the 49-year-old Rep. James Moore Wayne of Georgia, to replace him. But the Democratic-Republican Party now has a one-seat majority in the Senate, and they have made it clear that no further judicial appointments of Berrien will be considered—especially not to the Supreme Court. “A man in disgrace with the law must not be permitted to appoint the interpreters of that law,” said Henry Clay. Although Clay didn’t mention Wayne’s name once, Wayne took that as a slur upon his own honor—and in any case, he had no intention of refusing a lifetime appointment from Georgia’s favorite son when Rankin v. Missouri just showed the importance of the Supreme Court. To make a long story short, on New Year’s Day the two men will be fighting a duel.

Even inside President Berrien’s own party and cabinet, there is discord and mistrust. Some in the Tertium Quid party believe that for the good of the party, Berrien should step down in favor of another—Tyler, Poinsett, or possibly Calhoun. Poinsett has already taken his name out of the running. He’s announced he’ll be stepping down in ’41 so he can work to promote the growth of science and the useful arts in the U.S. The Smithson bequest, a rare example of British goodwill long held up by the war, has at last been freed up, and it’s time to make use of it[6]. The result is that Berrien is eyeing both his own Secretary of State and the man who should be his greatest ally in Congress with equal suspicion.

What political unity exists in Washington and the nation is unity against John Macpherson Berrien. At the moment, that unity is centered around Daniel Webster, who with a 117-member DRP delegation in the House has almost gotten his majority back. The Quids are down to 56 seats in the House—slightly more than they had before the ’34 midterms—and only Rep. Cass remains of their northern wing.[7] They also lost two seats in the Senate, and Sen. Crockett has stepped down as their leader. He’s let it be known that when he runs for re-election in 1840, it wil be on the Reform ticket.

The third parties only cooperate with the Dead Roses because it’s easier than trying to cooperate with each other—the Populists want slavery ended with all deliberate speed, the Liberationists think “deliberate speed” is for weak-ass white moderates, and the Reformists want to bring down the planter oligarchy while saving the small mom-and-pop mom-or-pop-owner. It’s no wonder that Webster, Southard, Clay, and the other DRP leaders prefer to focus their attention on the misdeeds of the man in the White House, and the great moral failure of the Quids in preventing his removal from office.

And so the protests in D.C. against Berrien and the Quids have continued. Now they’ve gotten musical, with protestors singing a song from The Boston Tea Party, the new show by J.F.F. Green (lyrics by O.W. Holmes) that’s taken New York City by storm this fall.

How this opera—and it is a genuine opera, with every minute of its nearly two and a half hours[8] of running time accompanied by music and not a word uttered onstage that is not sung—came into being is a saga in itself. Since coming home in the summer of ’35, Jeff Green has been wowing audiences in New York and Philadelphia with the things he wrote in Italy and his newer compositions, especially his Symphony No. 2 (“Homecoming”), completed aroud the end of ’36. And this is gratifying to him, even more so than the king of Italy’s approval. King Achille loved the Southern Summer Sonata for the same reason the teachers in Milan hated it—it was different. Americans just like it because it’s beautiful.

So Green was earning a passable living already, but raising the money and finding the singers to do this work justice was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. First he had to find a lyricist. He wrote to his old friend Francis Boott. Boott was busy with his own work (and privately thought Jeff had bitten off more than even he could chew) but pointed him at another Bostonian writer, Oliver Wendell Holmes. Holmes, a man who’s always ready to try something new, met with Green and the two quickly became friends. Together they came up with the story of the adventurous young Hubert Rocester, captain of the East India merchantman Eleanor, who meets and falls in love with Miss Elizabeth Phipps, daughter of a local merchant and patriot,[9] even as the Bostonian gentry are growing increasingly tired of British rule. Over the course of the opera, she persuades him to abandon the sea and join in the adventure of a new nation.

In the future, The Boston Tea Party will be considered… well, a good opera—possibly even a great one, especially when you remember it’s Green’s first try—and it will get the occasional performance. It will suffer somewhat from comparison to Green’s later works, but it will also get the benefit of being the first opera by an American and written in American English.[10] Right now, however, it’s taken New York by storm. Not only that, next year they’ve gotten invitations to perform at venues in Boston and Philadelphia.

Green is hardly apolitical. He loves this land that gave his family a home, hates slavery with all his heart, and though he rejoiced when Niagara joined the nation, he regards the president on whose watch it happened as the worst excuse for an American since Benedict Arnold. Part of the reason he and Holmes wrote this was to remind everybody of what was supposed to be so special about America in the first place. But if you’d asked him which part of the opera people would go home singing, he would’ve said it was either the final love duet between Captain Rocester and Miss Elizabeth, performed as the rioters fling handfuls of “tea leaves” (mostly crushed oak leaves) into the audience, or one of the rollicking songs the sailors sing that Green based on sea shanties he heard while crossing the ocean—or possibly “Eleanor,” Rocester’s sad solo about the long-dead lost love he took to the sea to forget, yet named his ship after, which seems kinda counterproductive.

To his surprise, the part that has really taken off is the song wherein the Bostonians (in response to Captain Rocester trying to explain to that they’re not actually getting a bad deal on their tea) object that neither the East India Company nor the king himself should have this kind of power over them to begin with. Mostly they sing about how free they are, and how awesome it is to be free:

We stand as men endowed with our rights
By Nature’s God who loves us
No tyrant e’er by force or by lies
Shall raise his rod above us

Okay, so it’s a little phallic. The point is that “Ode to Freedom” has become a protest song. In the context of The Boston Tea Party, it’s a protest against George III and his attempts to tyrannize over the American colonies. (Anyone watching the opera would conclude that Parliament was just sitting around doing nothing this whole time.) But the people singing this song in New York, and Boston, and at this point Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington itself… they have a different tyrant in mind. To them, trying to steal command of the war-making power from Congress is one step on the road to a completely unaccountable executive—a king in all but name—and that is one step too many. When they sing this song, they’re saying not on my watch, Johnny. Even they would not believe that this song will one day be of such unreserved popularity that Congress will unanimously vote to declare it the U.S. national anthem.

Certainly it isn’t that universally beloved yet. There are Southern states where the legislatures are working on bills to ban “Ode to Freedom”—possibly because of the implied criticism of Berrien, possibly because black people can sing too.

Less controversially, the Army and Navy have been considering the lessons of the war. The first lesson is that they’ve been on the right track for the last twenty-plus years, which is certainly good news. The U.S. Navy had a rough time of it, but they fought the British at sea and still exist as an institution. The army that triumphed at Mount Hope in ‘37 could not have been more different from the armed mob that fled Bladensburg in ’14.

This applies not only to the army, but to the nation. American science created the demologos, the Colt, the Henry-Hunt, and (with a little help from the French) the dreaded #23. American industry built the weapons and supplies, American soldiers wielded them, American railroads and supply wagons brought men and materiel where they were needed, and American finance paid for it all. Going forward, what America will need is… more of everything. The nation needs to get back to peacetime expansion.

The second lesson is that Louisianans and those who are still Canadians do not want the Stars and Stripes flying over their territory. However servile their governing arrangements may look to an American, they will fight and die to keep them. This was proven on many battlefields, but especially Málaga, Lake Saint-Louis and Quai-Trudeau.

The third lesson—which was also learned in the last war but was forgotten later—is that yes, black people can be soldiers. Berrien and his supporters are trying to shove this one back down the memory hole, but the experiences are still too fresh for that. In some places, they’re not waiting for permission from the Army. In Hopewell, Governor Green has organized the Kyantine Rangers, the cavalry arm of the territorial militia. John March and his fellow recruits are inexperienced, but learning fast.

Out west, what is now Symmesburg is very relieved to have been, well, relieved by the Bonneville expedition. But because Koale’xoa wasn’t too brutal, people here will remember her as an honorable and somewhat romantic defeated foe. “Princess Raven” will become something of a local symbol of the city. All the depictions of her will make her look younger and sexier than she actually was, and none of them will get the shape of her head right.

Back east, Edgar Allen Poe is back in Baltimore. He enjoyed being a war correspondent even less than being an Army clerk, but the pay was decent and he got a chance to write some excellent poems about war and Canadian winters. Tragically, his brother Henry relapsed this January, made off with a big chunk of the money, overdosed on morphia and died of hypothermia after falling asleep in a Baltimore alleyway. But his wife and daughters are still in good health, and he has a lot of recognition as a writer.

In Virginia, George Fitzhugh finally got to meet his idol Thomas Roderick Dew at William and Mary College. They got to talking politics over wine and pizza, which Dew’s slaves have just learned how to make.

They say you should never meet your heroes, but in some cases it’s your heroes who shouldn’t meet you. Even by Dew’s standards, Fitzhugh is a man much too in love with the theoretical at the expense of the practical. They agreed on the erosion of slavery in Virginia and how terrible it was, but when Fitzhugh started saying that maybe some white people (not either of them, of course) might do better if they were slaves to other white people of sufficient wisdom and virtue, Dew was just about ready to tear his hair out. He tried to be polite, but he really wanted to scream No, no, no, you fool! We get to GIVE orders! They get to TAKE orders! Stop overthinking everything! Because at the end of the day, Dew is just a conservative. All his intellect—and he is a man of ideas and learning—is bent towards the task of justifying either the way things are now or the way were maybe ten or twenty years ago. Fitzhugh is… something else.

Also in Virginia, Adolf Rasmussen just turned 23 and is working for Christian Sharpes in Harpersburgh, one of the few towns to be struggling in the improving economy—or rather, not to be doing as well as it was during the war. But the market for guns never goes entirely away. Harpersburgh will survive.

Still in Virginia, Richard Quincy Stabler, youngest of the Stabler brothers, is recovering in the family mansion at Shuter’s Hill House. He got hit in the butt with shrapnel from a passing Woolwich rocket at Quai-Trudeau. It wasn’t a severe injury—he was in more danger from his own horse, which was hurt worse and started to panic—but when you’re in the cavalry and spend most of your day on the back of a horse, wounds to that part of the body lose their humor very quickly. By the time he made it home, he’d developed a morphia problem from trying to deal with the constant pain. Since then he’s gotten better, but this made the family more inclined to listen when a senior manager, John L. Leadbeater[11], suggested that it was high time[12] they broadened their range of painkillers to include milder, less addictive drugs for managing less severe pain. Which is why Leadbeater and Robinson Stabler were in Louisville this fall talking business with Joshua Fry Speed, a free-labor farmer and landowner who happens to be the biggest single hemp-grower in the state of Kentucky. There are many cultivars of Cannabis sativa, after all, and some of them are good for much more than rope and canvas.

Kentucky, by the way, is flourishing, and at this point it’s fairly obvious that they’ll win the railroad race to the Mississippi. Tennessee finally has a route purchased and is making good progress, but the eastern part of the Raleigh & Mississippi has already reached Bowling Green and the western part extends from Wickliffe to the banks of the Tennessee River.[13] Sometime next year, the two will meet around Hopkinsville. Henry Clay is privately hoping that one day Hopkinsville, Bowling Green and Cumbercross[14] will grow to surpass Nashville and Knoxville. Whether that ambition will ever be fulfilled is a different question. After all, just because Tennessee is losing the race doesn’t mean they’re going to give up on building the railroad at all.

And of course the real end goal of the Raleigh & Mississippi is Cairo and Elephantine, both of which are determined to one day become the greatest American city west of the Appalachians. Neither of them is paying much attention to Wickliffe yet. They have city plans, after all—city plans and Egyptian names. What does Wickliffe have? (Other than the only good high ground in the area and a USNU branch, of course—plus an Army base where Mike Todd and Bill Shannon continue to exasperate everyone with their friendly rivalry.)

In North Carolina, Hooper Bragg is working on the Wilmington to Raleigh line. He never wanted to be anything but a soldier, but the army is downsizing and ex-POWs are the first to go. That’s the least of his problems. The knife he stole off that boy Anil was taken when he was caught, but of course he still has the scar that boy left on his chest with that knife. But men who work and fight will get scars here and there on their bodies. Bragg picked up much deeper scars from what wasn’t done to him. Another sort of man might have taken mercy as his due and learned nothing from it, but Bragg—bitter, resentful asshole that he is—has never expected anything but the worst from other people, and certainly not from people who aren’t white.

Further south, Charleston is rebuilding its defenses from the attack last summer. They’re proud of the way they handled it, and you’d think they’d be less afraid with the war over. But the state still has more black people than white people, and a lot of those black people are slaves working near the coast, where they spend much of the year unsupervised by white people or anybody else who has a choice. White South Carolinians still feel painfully exposed and vulnerable. They’re sure if a slave revolt started, President Berrien and S.C.’s own Poinsett would crush it. They’re not so sure they’d stay alive long enough to see it happen, and nothing works them into a state of hysteria faster than thinking about what could happen to their women and girls in that scenario.

One of those girls, Elizabeth Miller, turnd 15 this year and feels much older. Every few weeks, just when things were calming down, another rumor would start or another unfamiliar boat would be spotted off the coast. She’s no economist, but even she can see that dragging every able-bodied white man out of work for days at a time so they can watch slaves at work, paying them for their time in state bonds, and making all the white women stay inside and lock their doors at the same time, is costing S.C. dear. But it’s been a full month since she last had a machete-themed nightmare. That’s a good sign.

There are other ways in which she’s growing up too fast. As Mrs. Poe could tell you, 15 is not too young to be thinking about a husband in this society, especially when your family is in reduced circumstances and a fair number of former eligible bachelors have already been claimed by bullets or malaria. And it’s not like they’re going to hitch her up with somebody old enough to be her father (which also happens quite often)—the two beaus who most often come calling are William Brewster and Henry Pinckney Jr., both too young to have taken part in the war.[15]

And although she has her brother Stephen back, she isn’t seeing much of him. He’s gotten a job with Aiken’s railroad company, supervising the crew building the line from Columbia to Augusta. It’s a supervisory position, not because he has any idea how to supervise but because of a general feeling that someone of his social standing should be in charge. Alas, he keeps getting pulled off the job to participate in militia patrols, for which he’s getting paid in state IOUs. South Carolina, with all its cotton wealth, is getting even deeper into debt than it was during the worst of the Hiemal Period.

Georgia has the same problems, but more of them, in spite of the gold in what was Cherokee country but by now mostly isn’t. They have the ocean and the Florida border to worry about. Berrien has been reduced to exercising his power over the Army in petty ways, and one of them is putting General Twiggs in charge of that border. An awful lot of Georgians remember being led to disaster under him, so this builds no one’s confidence—especially with a big chunk of their state militia up in DC serving as the personal bodyguard of the president and his huge family[16], which is a big favor even for the state’s favorite son.

Alabama and Mississippi aren’t quite so badly off, but the Cherokees are still a force in Alabama politics. Their tribe still owns more usable land than they can farm. The usual approach would be to lease the land to tenant farmers, as the tribes in Florida do. The problem is that if a white guy doesn’t want to pay a Cherokee, the courts in Alabama are none too reliable. So their tenants tend to be free blacks—usually sharecroppers. And because the DRP is moribund this far south and the TQs don’t want them, young Cherokee leaders like Joshua Ross and allies like Sam Houston are joining the Reform Party. The result of all this is that a lot of white people are thinking of the slaveholding, black-people-exploiting Cherokees as dangerous allies of abolition. (Not that they need much excuse to turn against natives of any sort.) Meanwhile, there’s an actual abolitionist running around—James G. Birney, preaching against slavery with all the ferocious urgency of a man who took over twenty years to put his money where his mouth is and free the last of his own slaves: “If then slavery be characterized by violence, oppression, injustice—by tendencies to the ruin of the souls of both master and slave—why should you hesitate to say it ought to cease at once?”[17] In Mississippi, Joe Davis has emerged as an outspoken advocate of his own brand of reform, which basically amounts to letting black people form self-sufficient communities while charging them rent on themselves. And in Tennessee and the border states—Missouri, Kentucky, Maryland, Delaware—the economic advantages of joining the free states are becoming more and more obvious, and the advocates of slavery are feeling themselves at more and more of a disadvantage. After all, the basic question of Rankin v. Missouri is whether white people who want to undermine white supremacy are free to do so… and they are.

In the north, Berrien’s behavior and the Senate TQs’ support of him has turned people against slavery who never cared before. State Rep. Abraham Lincoln’s colleague and frenemy Stephen Douglas quit the Quids in protest when he got word of the Senate vote. Lt. Quincy Grissom, shivering in the new fort on Manitoulin Island commanded by Gen. Kearny (Berrien gave Kearny this assignment as punishment for losing to a mixed-race unit at Moncton) has started reading such abolitionist literature as the mail can deliver to this outpost. And in Boston, astronomy student E.R. Beecher (caretaker of her family’s most treasured possession, a copy of Audubon’s illustrated masterwork) is thinking of writing a book or two about… well, about lots of things, but slavery, tyranny, and war are definitely three of them.

Back in New York, Joseph Fortune Francis Green and Oliver Wendell Holmes are of course very pleased about the success of The Boston Tea Party. Holmes has an idea for another opera—this one based on the writings of Washington Irving, especially The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Fair Katrina (the title character) is in love with the handsome young farmer Brom, but her parents have promised her to the old schoolmaster Ichabod Crane, so she and Brom conspire to scare Crane out of Sleepy Hollow using a local ghost legend[18]. It’s a fluffy little story of the sort that in Europe they’d call Neo-Pastoral. Nothing very bad happens to anyone—even creepy old Crane ends up married to a rich widow. Holmes has shared this with Green, who likes the idea and has already started to write the music. Next year old W. Irving himself, still very much alive, will give the project his blessing and let them know he’s looking forward to seeing it on stage.

But in the long term, Holmes isn’t so sure this partnership is going to last. He’s a jack-of-all-trades, and songwriting isn’t even the biggest one. Essays, law, medicine—you name it, he’s at least dabbled in it, and there’s many more things he wants to turn his brilliant mind to. His biggest interest is medicine—he’s one of those who are becoming outspoken about the dangers of morphia. A composer of Green’s caliber wants (and, Holmes is happy to admit, deserves) a lyricist who can devote his full attention to his work.

And Green wants to write more than just light opera. He wants to write grand operas, tragedies, moving stories of valor and sacrifice, darker tales of grief and revenge and madness. That’s a problem. Holmes doesn’t really do darkness—the best he can manage is a kind of deep gray melancholy, such as the song “Eleanor,” or “The Last Leaf”[19] that he just finished writing for the character of Rip Van Winkle in Katrina.

Also, Green wants to do at least one major work set in the South where he grew up. Holmes, learned though he is, is kind of provincial. He’s a Bostonian through and through. Even New York City feels like a sort of exile to him. He’d sooner write an opera about Japan than the South—at least then, it’s unlikely there would be any Japanese in the audience who could tell him what he got wrong.

Where is Green going to find a writer who can help him tell the stories he wants?

[1] Gray Harbor. What the colonists have started calling the north end of Cook Inlet.
[2] Sitka
[3] OTL Victoria, British Columbia. Easier to supply by sea because you don’t have to navigate past the Columbia Bar.
[4] I should mention that when Queen Charlotte breaks out the Royal We, it usually means she’s filled with more rage than one person should be able to contain.
[5] Most people suspect Henry Brougham helped her write this missive, or possibly even wrote it himself, which shows how widespread sexism is—it was actually his daughter Elphinstone who suggested this line of argument.
[6] As IOTL, where Poinsett was a co-founder of the National Institute for the Promotion of Science and the Useful Arts.
[7] The rest of the House—Populists 40, Reform 27, Liberation still stuck at 2. Yes, that means the Populists and Reformists together now outnumber the Quids.
[8] Roughly the length of Oberto, Verdi’s first opera IOTL.
[9] If you’re wondering about the accuracy of these historical references, I can assure you that they are sourced entirely from Green’s and Holmes’ asses.
[10] IOTL the first such opera was Leonora, by William Henry Fry, in 1845. See, this isn’t all as crazy as it sounds.
[11] He and the Stabler family dealt in medicinal cannabis in the 1850s IOTL.
[12] Pun shamelessly intended
[13] If you’re following on a map, the dam that created Kentucky Lake IOTL hasn’t been built yet.
[14] IOTL Burkesville
[15] I wish I could build up some dramatic tension around this love triangle, but there’s no way Lizzie is ever going to choose Martha Pinckney’s brother over Maggie and Jessie’s brother.
[16] One thing about Berrien I didn’t have time to discuss is his fifteen children. Some of them are grown up and moved away, but that still left a lot in the White House with him.
[17] An OTL quote, italics and all.
[18] I personally love Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow, but I’ve read the original and seen its illustrations, and it’s pretty obvious that this is the subtext.
[19] Something like OTL’s The Last Leaf, but from the older character’s POV.
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Awesome update. I'll probably have lots of speculation incoming over this series, so let's begin:

Starting from the top: Alaska's long-term fate. IMO the US probaby has even more insentive to grab it sometime down the line - especially if Anglo-American hostility continues long-term (implied it will for at least another generation) and depending on how Anglo-Russian relations after the current war finishes. On the other hand, I'd guess there's more actual Russians on the ground than OTL given the Tsar has decided it makes a useful place to banish people to.

For Canada that bishop's efforts can't possibly go well. This Canada is going to be even more heavily French Catholic than OTL - and not just that, the Quebecois told the invading US "we don't want liberation, go back to your own country". I do think there will be a move for a more unified government sooner than OTL, as hostility isn't going anywhere.

As for the developments in the US, oh boy. 1840 is going to be one hell of a year.

Clay vs. Wayne duel: I have a nasty feeling this is going to be every bit as infamous as Burr vs. Hamilton when all is said and done, regardless of what actually happens.

The President has a bunch of bodyguards personally loyal to him in Washington, and is convinced he can get re-elected despite everyone north of Virginia hating his guts? This. Will. Not. End. Well.

Dan Webster is probably going to be president on March 4, 1841. At least if you ask most people. Could Berrien be plotting to have a bunch of Deep South governors try to claim that (somehow) Berrien actually got re-elected?

The upper south states are thinking about abolishing slavery? Good. If Delaware and Missouri abolish (which both are probablyw ell on the way to), that puts the balance at 16-10. If one of the remaining free territories gets admitted (as is likely to be pushed this decade) and another border state (Kentucky, probably) moves forward to try and abolish, that gives the free states 18 out of 27 -- a two-thirds majority. I'm sure the Deep South sttates will have absolutely no problems with this prospect... oh, who am I kidding?

And last but not least...possible collaborations between Jeff Green and Edgar Allen Poe in the future? :cool:
They agreed on the erosion of slavery in Virginia and how terrible it was, but when Fitzhugh started saying that maybe some white people (not either of them, of course) might do better if they were slaves to other white people of sufficient wisdom and virtue, Dew was just about ready to tear his hair out. He tried to be polite, but he really wanted to scream No, no, no, you fool! We get to GIVE orders! They get to TAKE orders! Stop overthinking everything! Because at the end of the day, Dew is just a conservative. All his intellect—and he is a man of ideas and learning—is bent towards the task of justifying either the way things are now or the way were maybe ten or twenty years ago. Fitzhugh is… something else.
Well, this is… concerning? Terrifying? Yeah, I think terrifying fits.
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A great update here with a detailed look at the situation in North America, with some clear signs that things aren't going to get better before they get worse in some areas. Berrien seemed determined to make things even worse, despite the war being over. Private militia as a bodyguard that he sees as loyal to him above all else is never a good thing. Mucking around with army promotions as he has isn't going to make things easier, neither. I imagine a fair number of veterans are questioning exactly why they fought in a war for a President that seems to be getting worse with each passing day.

Also, are we getting hints of Green and Poe as this TL's equivalent of Gilbert & Sullivan?
Also, Green wants to do at least one major work set in the South where he grew up. Holmes, learned though he is, is kind of provincial. He’s a Bostonian through and through. Even New York City feels like a sort of exile to him. He’d sooner write an opera about Japan than the South—at least then, it’s unlikely there would be any Japanese in the audience who could tell him what he got wrong.

Where is Green going to find a writer who can help him tell the stories he wants?

*Edgar Allen Poe has entered the chat*
In India, I wonder if anything simmilar to Bengal Sati Regulation or Hindu Widow Remarriage Act has been passed or not.
With the Americans holding Niagara up to Lake Simcoe, then the idea of Lower Canada and the Atlantic region joining with Ruperts Land (west of the Lakehead) is likely off the table as the topography joining those two regions together is hostile for transportation and settlement even to this day. Makes for some interesting future developments. Or will Niagara realize it's mistake in the future?
With the Americans holding Niagara up to Lake Simcoe, then the idea of Lower Canada and the Atlantic region joining with Ruperts Land (west of the Lakehead) is likely off the table as the topography joining those two regions together is hostile for transportation and settlement even to this day. Makes for some interesting future developments. Or will Niagara realize it's mistake in the future?
Niagara now looks south. Whether what is northeast of them can connect to what is northwest isn't their concern.

And for OTL Canada, the topography land North of Lake Superior is more hostile for Transportation than any area near Niagara. (My personal AH proposal is that for *any* nation where Toronto, Chicago and Winnepeg are all in the same country, that a north of the Lakes connecting Railroad *never* gets built)
Looks like the Reform Party even as it rises in power is going to have a struggle on its hands on what exactly their agenda is. Though I'm guessing Crockett won't last much longer, as its said that few of his speeches are recorded in posterity.

As I thought, the Quids are collapsing. Their northern gains are not only gone but they are more unpopular than ever in the North. And now they are dividing between Berrien' loyalists and those willing to jettison the man.

Loving the cultural stuff with the opera. Much as I like Poe's OTL work, its good to see him having a happier moire successful life that will still see him counted among the great American artists. But will the detective story still be invented?

So you are also a fan of Sleepy Hollow. I'm also a fan of the Disney version; my first real encounter with horror as a kid.

The stuff on the Cherokee got me thinking. In British Florida and the Republic of Louisiana we have relatively wealthy and politically powerful tribes of First Nations. Is there any cooperation going on between these two groups to support one another and further their interests? They are doing pretty well now, but given their history I'd think they'd be doing what they can to secure their long term interests against further exploitation. Any outreach efforts to Nations in the USA and Canadas?

The Cherokee employing sharecroppers I didn't see coming but it does make sense. Them supporting the Reform Party was another thing that makes sense looking back, and I wonder how that will shake out for them and said party.

Heh, seems South Carolina is unraveling itself post war.

Canada has troubles ahead, bit I dare say they won't hold a candle to the Troubles south of the borer. Enjoy Niagara, hope you get the buyers remorse. Fingers crossed for a United Knigdom of the Canadas.

Wait 'the' Henry Clay is having a duel? Henry Clay the preeminent elder statesman? Huh? Did Jakcson's ghost have something to do with this? If he gets killed by a ProBerrien Southerner, well that may just be the starting pistol for the Troubles.

Looking forward to the entry for the Republic; guessing they are lumped in with Florida, New Spain, and the other Caribbean nations?
As ever, excellent update! Sincerely looking forward to the 1840s!

Just recently I followed the link in your sig to your Six Kingdoms story. It was very entertaining, thanks so much for writing and posting it. It was so nice to have something utterly different than Yet Another SI.
Interlude: December 23, 1839 (2)
Links to the last set of interludes:
Florida and Louisiana
everything in between
South America

Florida and Louisiana
Florida and Louisiana have the same problem—they’re small places with big friends overseas, but a large and hostile power across the border. They knew before the war that in the event of an invasion, they’d have to hold out until reinforcements arrived. What they’ve learned from the war is that they can hold out. They trusted the metropole to honor its commitments, and they were still there when the metropole came through.

Of course, there was a certain element of luck. In the first Florida invasion, the immigrants and freedmen who filled out the ranks of the volunteers faced a half-professional, half-amateur army still reeling from having its supply lines cut. They could hardly have asked for better starter villains to sharpen their claws on. In the second invasion, they not only had British regulars and Haitian mercenaries alongside them, but were able to pull off a remarkable ambush at the Sunken River.

Later generations of Plori will speak of this war as the beginning of their nation, but that will be an exaggeration. As of 1839, they’re still unhyphenated Bengali, Keralans, Javanese, Cantonese, and so on. But the volunteer regiments were a crash course in English (okay, pidgin English) for many men, and the friendships that formed in them are a new element tying the various communities together. This is equally true of the Jews and Spaniards who were somewhat preferentially selected as officers in these regiments.

As for the Creeks and Seminoles who were always meant to be the backbone of Florida’s defense—and who did in fact contribute much more than their share to the war effort—they knew they could fight, but they’d forgotten what it was like to actually win. They’d gotten used to thinking of their history as a long, tragic, necessary losing battle against the endless land-hunger of white America. For the first time in a long time, they’ve come out of a war with the same territory they went into it with. A treaty has been signed and they don’t have to move. That is a big deal.

Louisiana has learned much harder home truths. One of them is a reminder of how much they need the British. Until Wellington and his twelve regiments showed up, they were losing. They fought like heroes, but they were outnumbered. The losses they suffered at Málaga and the earlier battles were not sustainable at all. One of outgoing President Roman’s last decisions was to proclaim a national day of mourning for Wellington when word of his death reached the little republic he saved.

(With him gone, the former Col. Ferdinand d’Orleans has been granted a commission in the Grand Army as a general, and has been placed in charge of the border. He has more than one reason for mourning—his brother François died at Silistre the day before Wellington did. John Keane is still Minister of War, and has also been given reason to mourn—his wife Grace died last year[1], although his oldest son, also named John, is still alive and in Louisiana, his second son Arthur died at Lake Saint-Louis, in one of those futile charges on Vaudreuil. His younger son Edward is now in a unit headed for yet another battlefront.)

And, like the United States, Louisianans have learned that black people can fight, and that it helps if they’re doing it on your side. Black, white, and in-between Louisianans were fighting side by side well before the Keyboard Regiment won its laurels at Moncton. The U.S. may talk itself into forgetting this again. Louisiana doesn’t have that option. Since Thibodeauxville, they’ve known that the nation’s last line of defense are the runaways in the bayou that the government was always meaning to round up and re-enslave someday when it had the men and the money.

Having learned hard lessons, the Louisianans are making hard choices. The man making those choices is President Isidore Labatut, elected this year as head of “the Grand Coalition.” This just means nobody was willing to run against him. It also means he gets to call upon the best of both parties for those cabinet posts that are not already occupied by British personnel.

Labatut is putting his popularity to use. First off, any man who passes the physical fitness requirements—regardless of degree of blackness—may join the Army or Navy, thereby winning citizenship.

That was actually the easy part. The hard part is figuring out how to integrate the runaway communities into Louisianan society. If Labatut tries taking a census of the runaways so they can be listen as citizens, they’re more likely to flee or try to waylay the census-takers—they don’t trust anything coming out of the Hôtel de la République. So he’s going to tackle the problem at the other end. The next census, in 1840, will include an official census of all the slaves in Louisiana, by name and date of birth. Slaveholders will want their slaves on that list, and the slaves will hardly be able to say no… if they’re there in person when the census-taker arrives, so they can be documented. Anyone not on this list will no longer be a slave and cannot be re-enslaved. Labatut can get this through because memory of the war is still fresh, and the sugar barons and the cotton kings are never going to be weaker than they are right now, or more inclined to make concessions in the name of national defense. Their homes, after all, were preferentially sought out for looting by the Yankees.

It helps that (unlike the Americans with their one-drop rule) Louisianans see whiteness or blackness as a matter of degree, even if they think of whiteness as the preferred direction. While serving in the Grand Army, Camille Thierry wrote a controversial poem, “Coton Écru,” expressing the idea that the nation, like its uniforms, would emerge from this war less white than it was at the beginning.[2] That has happened, and anyone in the Hôtel de la République who wants to undo it has to figure out how to get Europeans to immigrate into a garrison state whose economy is still largely dependent on slavery when the U.S. is right there and hungry for free labor. Some of the middle-class women who lost their beaux at Málaga are starting to look at either the lighter-skinned blacks and Métis, the poorer whites, or the surviving natives.

Speaking of economic matters, there’s also the little matter of paying for the war—or rather, meeting the interest payments on the debt Louisiana went into to the Royal Bank while trying to secure its own existence. The solution to that isn’t going to improve relations with the U.S. any. But the Mississippi Valley, from Natchez up to Prairie du Chien, is more populous than ever, producing more of everything—food, fiber, metal ingots, machine tools, liquor—and the T&T Canal isn’t getting any wider[3]. This means more traffic on the Mississippi. Time for another tariff increase.

New Spain and Tehuantepec
At first glance, the war that shook the U.S., the Canadas, Florida, and Louisiana seems to have had very little impact here. Where Florida and Louisiana faced strikes into their heartland that they needed British support to fight, New Spain faced a haphazard incursion into a remote province that their army handled capably on its own. (And just as well—Spain was busy in three different wars and is still embroiled in two of them.) The survivors of that incursion were either garroted as bandits (or in Navarro’s case, a traitor[4]) or fled back into U.S. territory[5].

But that still leaves thousands of American settlers in Tejas, especially around what the new map calls San Agustín de Nuevo Tucsón but the locals still call Granicus. In the first place, not one of those people came to Tejas with the intent of becoming good and loyal citizens of New Spain. They came in the hope that U.S. rule would follow, and no one believes for a minute they’re reconciled to being governed from México. In the second place, they’re mostly Protestants, and New Spain’s liberalism (compared to old Spain) does not yet extend to religious toleration. Conservatives do not want it to, and even liberals who want separation of church and state don’t want these people to be the test case.

So what is to be done with these settlers? Driving them out at gunpoint would probably piss off the U.S., and maybe start another war in a place where neither country really wants one. Trying to force them to convert to Catholicism would be like that, only worse. Creating a fuero, declaring Tejas a “foral region” where the rules are different and it’s okay to be Protestant, would just invite the Yankees to come in by the thousands and try this again ten years from now.

As for Prince-Viceroy Francisco, he was raised by the same set of parents that produced Ferdinand VII and the current king. He may have turned out to be more adaptable than either of them, but don’t mistake him for a religious liberal. He thinks of the Catholic Church as the direct heirs of Jesus Christ via Saint Peter, and the various Protestant sects as basically the people who broke away from the people who broke away from the people who broke away from the Lutherans… or the Calvinists. Or, in the case of the Anglicans, the people who broke away from the Catholics so a fat guy could have sex with lots of hot women and then chop off their heads.

So he’s found a solution. The laws shall remain unchanged, but in his most gracious viceregal magnaminity he chooses to grant amnesty for those Protestants who immigrated before 1838, as well as their descendants, conditional on their continued loyalty to the Viceroyalty of New Spain. His domain can survive that much Protestantism without God sending a plague of locusts or something, and as for what his older brother and king might think… Francisco has honestly stopped caring. Carlos is in Madrid. Francisco is here. Tejas is way the hell up there—more accessible to him than Astoria is to Berrien, but not by much. This decision hasn’t made anyone in the capital happy—conservatives feel like he undercut them, and liberals would rather he not get involved in politics at all—but as Tejas Governor Jorge Ribar (himself an immigrant to Mexico)[6] said, “For today, we have peace. I make no promises about tomorrow.”

Of course, Tejas isn’t the only place where México’s control is nominal. The whole vast swath of the north, from Alta California to the river they call the Hondo, is like that. Alta California in particular has the potential to be one of the most valuable parts of New Spain, but right now it’s thinly populated and dominated by missions[7] run by the Franciscan order. No question of their Catholicism, loyalty to the viceroyalty, or determination to make over the natives in Spain’s image. The question is whether any of those natives are going to survive the process.

The missions are forcing the natives into walled settlements to teach them Spanish and convert them to the Church. Because the term “concentration camp” hasn’t been invented yet, the settlements are called “congregations” or “reductions” and the latter name is all too appropriate. The people in them are underfed, overworked, overcrowded, and thus even more vulnerable than usual to European diseases—something close to three out of four children in these places die before adulthood.[8] The young people who survive are segregated by sex. This is supposed to make sure that the natives can only increase their number via licensed Christian marriage. Mostly it just facilitates molestation by the priests.

Liberals in the Cortes have gotten word of these things, and they are disgusted. Their leaders on this issue are Juan Álvarez and José Antonio Mexía, who have denounced the missions in the Cortes—much to the displeasure of the Church and the conservatives, who feel that whatever else, the missions are trustworthy.

Some people are taking up arms in a more literal sense. The Chumash and other tribes have been rebelling off and on for decades, which is yet another problem for the Army and is part of the reason why the various liberal parties were able to get Representative Mier y Terán on their side. As part of their efforts to project power in the north, last year the Army tried to build a new fort at San Leandro. It was completed in May of 1838 and flattened by an earthquake a month later.

There’s another factor. The missions are also producing the communion wine New Spain needs (not to mention the regular wine that’s just nice to have) and when Francisco decided to include Alta California in his olive-planting efforts, guess who got the seedlings? That’s a huge investment in the future—olive trees can live to be over a thousand years old. All this makes the missions unwanted competition for independent farmers and ranchers. José Castro, a Californio radical in the Cortes who was briefly imprisoned during Iturbide’s mischief on charges of being anti-royalist, has been gaining influence and popularity by speaking for these people.

There’s a similar problem elsewhere in New Spain. The industry that Farías would love to foster still faces competition from Spain itself, to the point where the small railroad grid forming around México is dependent on imported iron. The Army is also quietly buying as many Colt revolvers from Harpersburgh as it can get away with, on the advice of General Urrea, who couldn’t help noticing that he’d taken much heavier casualties at Bayou La Nana than he should have against such an amateurish attack. In return, New Spain is exporting new strains of potato plant from the Toluca Valley[9] west of the capital to Europe and the British Isles. You can’t go wrong with potatoes.

In a way, all the rancor in the Cortes is a good sign. Nobody’s talking about crushing anybody by force. The overthrow of Iturbide has done New Spain some good.

In Tehuantepec, Lorenzo de Zavala has retired due to ill health, Santiago Méndez Ibarra is president, and for just about the first time in its history, Tehuantepec is seeing immigrants. They’re Maya from Chiapas and Guatemala, fleeing the war…

Central America and the Caribbean
…which is still going on. Spain is winning—the rebellion has limited access to guns, powder, and shot, and Spain has many officers in its army who learned their trade fighting in Haiti. The one bit of good news is that the Brougham government has found out about the slavers operating out of the Miskito Kingdom, and with the end of the war, the Royal Navy has been freed up to patrol the coast and hunt down the slave ships. While they’re at it, they’re helping enforce King Robert Charles Frederic’s rule over his kingdom, not to mention his dependence on British rule. Win-win-win.

It’s been three and a half years since the last slave was freed in Britain’s Caribbean possessions. Jamaica is dotted with new villages, mostly built by churches, housing the newly freed. The Colonial Office, which is really getting tired of twisting the planters’ arms to get them to cooperate, passed a law last year after Brougham’s government was returned to office. This law expanded the franchise to include all men who own a certain amount of property, regardless of race.[10] That said, sugar production is still way down, which isn’t going to do anything to bring in investment capital. The sugar planters really don’t know how to work with people they don’t legally own.[11]

And when sugar production does go up again, there’ll be some new competition. Some of the veterans of the Queen’s Haitian Legion are taking the money they earned and using it to buy extra land and plant sugar and other cash crops that they can sell to the French—a transaction that requires both sides to swallow a lot of pride.

South America
At first it might seem like not much has changed in South America’s northern tier in the past five years. In Dutch-ruled Suriname, there’s talk that the new government is going to abolish slavery, but so far no one really knows what the next government in Amsterdam is going to look like, let alone what it will do.

One point of contention in Gran Colombia is the new state schools. These schools are mostly technical schools, intended to teach mathematics, engineering, and applied science, but they’re still schools and they aren’t being run by the church. No matter how proud Gran Colombia might be of not being ruled by His Piety Carlos and His Vice-Piety Sebastian, that still sets a lot of people’s teeth on edge. But Colombia needs engineers.

Speaking of which, President José Ignacio de Márquez is still trying to connect all parts of Gran Colombia by road (and, one fine day, railroad). Probably the most challenging part of the whole country is the Darien Gap. Mountains and swamps are two different flavors of nightmare to build through, and the Gap has both.

To handle the more low-lying ground, hired some of the engineers who worked on the Louisiana road from Port-de-l’Ouest to Fort-Keane. Those engineers are not feeling optimistic. The Atrato flatlands aren’t harder to bridge than the Sabine swamps were, but the sort of floods the Atrato gets after a hurricane hits the mountains would wash away everything they know how to build. Also, the natives are every bit as reluctant to assimilate into Colombian society as the Ichacq were.

Speaking of people resistant to being assimilated, Prince-Viceroy Sebastian, like his predecessor, can’t think about Paraguay without a sense of frustration. It’s not that they’re bothering anybody in his dominions—they have even more trouble reaching his territory than he does theirs—but de Francia has done a very thorough job of overthrowing the Church’s authority there. El Supremo turns 74 next year, and from what Sebastian hears, his health isn’t too good and he has no successor. That might open up opportunities. But Paraguay is still a tough nut to crack in its own right, and even after twenty years of progress, the prospect of invading from the Viceroyalty is still somewhere between a logistical nightmare and a complete impossibility. His wife Maria (one of Ferdinand d’Orléans’ younger sisters) has better ideas on what the Viceroyalty can do with its money—rebuild the Plaza Mayor and the Archbishop’s palace, which could really use more space for schools. Sebastian tried to get either Argentina or Entre Ríos to cooperate with an invasion, but President Lavalleja of Entre Ríos replied that he was busy with his own war.

Which brings us to Brazil… poor, suffering Brazil. The civil war goes on with no end in sight. Pedro’s government in Rio and the rebels in Ouro Preto are both fighting two-front wars—Pedro is still fighting Entre Ríos’ invasion of the Cisplatine as well as the rebellion, and the rebellion is still fighting the Malê as well as the capital. If you look at a map of modern Brazil, the area Pedro controls more or less corresponds to the states of Rio de Janerio, the coastal part of São Paulo, all of Paraná, Santa Catarina, and Rio Grande do Sul, plus a chunk of northern Uruguay which Pedro is really starting to think is more trouble than it’s worth. The rebels hold northern São Paulo, Minas Gerais, Espirito Santo, and the southern third of Bahia. The Malê and affiliated rebels hold the rest of Bahia, Piaui, and the states that make up the nose[12] of Brazil. Everything from Mato Grosso do Sul to Maranhão and points northwest is… not really under anybody’s control. What’s keeping the rebels in Minas Gerais going is gold and access to the coast. As long as they have that, they can trade for powder and shot. All the Malê rebels have is the will to keep fighting.

And as for Argentina, they have their own reasons not to cooperate with the Viceroyalty. On a religious level, they need immigrants and can’t afford to be picky about their religion, which will mean an increasingly secularized society. And having lost their richest provinces and biggest city, they’re using the better economy to start pushing southward to make up for it… which will inevitably put them in conflict with the Viceroyalty’s allies in Araucanía.

In another irony, part of the reason for the civil war that split Argentina in two in the first place was the awkward relationship between Buenos Aires and the rest of the country, and now that relationship is starting to reappear between Bahía Blanca and Argentina. It’s not their political capital, but it’s their financial and cultural capital. Nobody wanted it to become either of these things, but it happened all the same. They can build new ports further south, but they can’t force the merchants of the world to sail to them. The only reason to seek harbor there is if you just had a rough passage around Cape Horn and need a place to stop… but that’s something.

[1] As IOTL
[2] I’m so sorry. I somehow went through the whole war without ever getting around to describing the Grand Army’s uniforms. Most of them are off-white unbleached cotton with madder-red trim. The exceptions are the waterdragoon regiments, which wear dark green waistcoats with no shirt underneath, so as to free up their arms and shoulders for rowing. The ecru uniforms are more comfortable than red or dark blue in sunny Louisiana, but as Thierry points out, a few months in the field does tend to unwhiten them in a way that 19th-century laundry technology can’t fix.
[3] There are proposals to widen it, of course, but the T&T Canal Company (which formed to buy the canal from the bankrupt SINC a few years ago and is headquartered in Chickasaw, Mississippi) hasn’t gotten the money together.
[4] If you’re morbidly curious, the executioner did take a bit longer with Navarro than with the others.
[5] Berrien wouldn’t allow the soldiers who followed Harney to be punished as deserters, but with the Army shrinking anyway, he couldn’t prevent Scott from cashiering them.
[6] Born in Serbia under the name Đorđe Šagić. IOTL he became George Fisher.
[7] IOTL Mexico was secularizing the missions by now, not so much out of a love of secularism as because they were considered likely to be more loyal to Spain than to Mexico. ITTL, of course, that isn’t a factor, so…
[8] As IOTL
[9] Generally cited as the most likely point of origin for the potato blight IOTL
[10] A similar law was passed in 1840 IOTL.
[11] IOTL Jamaica’s sugar production dropped from 71,000 metric tons in 1831 to 46,000 metric tons in 1837, and didn’t fully recover until 1933.
[12] I can’t think of a better way to put it. Sorry.
As for Prince-Viceroy Francisco, he was raised by the same set of parents that produced Ferdinand VII and the current king.
OTL, he married his niece, and married his son off to (the son's) 16-year-old double first cousin (and double first cousin once removed).

It says a lot about Charles IV that four of his seven surviving children married either their uncle or their niece. And the remaining three were all child brides who married their first cousin.