The Third Pistol
- Thread starter Meepy
- Start date
York, Upper Canada --- October 12th, 1838
As the "Siege of York" ground on into its third week, very little progress had been made. The Michi-Canadian force hadn't the guns nor men to take on the British works, and the British hadn't the manpower to breach the Rebel lines. Over a thousand lay dead and nearly twice that had deserted to help their families in the harvest. Both armies were slowly wasting away.
A similar situation had developed out west, The British were holed up in Windsor with their heavy guns, and the Michiganians surrounded them on both sides. Shelling from across the river had convinced Mason to officially move the capital farther west, to Ann Arbor.
Across Lake Michigan, a certain Orlando Willcox had landed himself in hot water and was recalled.
In Quebec the Patriotes were consolidating their position, awaiting the British's inevitable next big push to reclaim their Colonies.
In short, the war was winding down...
Saginaw, Michigan --- October 15th, 1838
The time had come for Michigan to write her Constitution. The original locale of Detriot was rejected out of hand for being too close to the war.
Near the begining it was almost unanimously decided that Michigan would adopt a constitution quite similar to the United States'. The only question that remained was statehood.
"Michigan cannot be allowed full control over the nation's government. The Territories must have representation too!" Said John "Rip" Ford, the head of the Wisconsinian Delegation. "My delegation would like to suggest that Wisconsin territory be divided and its components granted statehood."
Mason rose to meet the challenge, "Michigan will no longer be put under the yoke of another government!"
And so it went on...
After nearly a week a consensus was reached; 5 states would enter the Republic. 3 from Michigan, and 2 would be crafted out of the Territory.
As the "Siege of York" ground on into its third week, very little progress had been made. The Michi-Canadian force hadn't the guns nor men to take on the British works, and the British hadn't the manpower to breach the Rebel lines. Over a thousand lay dead and nearly twice that had deserted to help their families in the harvest. Both armies were slowly wasting away.
A similar situation had developed out west, The British were holed up in Windsor with their heavy guns, and the Michiganians surrounded them on both sides. Shelling from across the river had convinced Mason to officially move the capital farther west, to Ann Arbor.
Across Lake Michigan, a certain Orlando Willcox had landed himself in hot water and was recalled.
In Quebec the Patriotes were consolidating their position, awaiting the British's inevitable next big push to reclaim their Colonies.
In short, the war was winding down...
Saginaw, Michigan --- October 15th, 1838
The time had come for Michigan to write her Constitution. The original locale of Detriot was rejected out of hand for being too close to the war.
Near the begining it was almost unanimously decided that Michigan would adopt a constitution quite similar to the United States'. The only question that remained was statehood.
"Michigan cannot be allowed full control over the nation's government. The Territories must have representation too!" Said John "Rip" Ford, the head of the Wisconsinian Delegation. "My delegation would like to suggest that Wisconsin territory be divided and its components granted statehood."
Mason rose to meet the challenge, "Michigan will no longer be put under the yoke of another government!"
And so it went on...
After nearly a week a consensus was reached; 5 states would enter the Republic. 3 from Michigan, and 2 would be crafted out of the Territory.
Washington, D.C. --- November 5th, 1838
The emergency election of 1838 was one of the most contentious yet, in some states as many as 15 names appeared on the ballot. It was Democrat Vs. Whig, Traditionalist Vs. Kinderhook, East Vs. West, and South Carolina Vs. Everybody. In the end there could be but one winner...
... The votes were tallied, and soon the winner became clear. The next president of the United States would be none other than Francis P. Granger.
In the congressional elections, the winner was less clear. The Kinderhooks managed to scrape up 28% of the house, the Traditionalists 25%, and the Whigs 44% (5 seats were filled by third parties).
The emergency election of 1838 was one of the most contentious yet, in some states as many as 15 names appeared on the ballot. It was Democrat Vs. Whig, Traditionalist Vs. Kinderhook, East Vs. West, and South Carolina Vs. Everybody. In the end there could be but one winner...
... The votes were tallied, and soon the winner became clear. The next president of the United States would be none other than Francis P. Granger.
In the congressional elections, the winner was less clear. The Kinderhooks managed to scrape up 28% of the house, the Traditionalists 25%, and the Whigs 44% (5 seats were filled by third parties).
Monrovia, American Liberia --- December 7th, 1838
Martin Van Buren really hated public speaking, as contrary as that would seem to his profession of choice. He hated public debate even more, as the pressure to think on your feet were multiplied tenfold. He really really hated stifling heat.
So why had he decided to go on a speaking tour of American colonial Africa?
"Damn separatism..." thought the disgraced president "why do these mindless drones have to keep thinking up new ideas?"
His opponent, 'J.J. Roberts' had the floor; "Personally, I think that Mr. Van Buren's thoughts are absurd. The American Colonization Society was founded on the basis that common American is incapable of coexisting with people of color! Why would we journey all the way here just so we could fall back under the yoke of the American government?"
That was a fairly good start, but Van Buren had it covered.
"My friend, what do you mean? You will all eventually fall 'under the yoke', as Mr. Roberts puts it. It is inevitable that you will either join in the great experiment of Liberty and Democracy, or dissolve into some petty two-bit dictatorship. For proof you need only look towards Michigan! I am sure that, given time, you will all chose the logical path."
Roberts had a rebuttal ready, "To be a poor freeman is better than to be a well-fed slave. I am certain that the same applies to nations."
"The union is not a master. It is merely a collection of equals that provide mutual assistance to each other as needed." countered Van Buren.
His response to this came from a heckler "Tell that to Michigan!".
"Yes. Michigan." began the former VP's counter "Michigan is the perfect example of what happens when a ill-meaning man leads his fellow countrymen off the path to freedom."
Van Buren retreated off stage shortly thereafter. The mood of the crowd was still in favor of Roberts' ideals, but it was no longer hostile toward van Buren's. A definite improvement.
Petit-Sault, New Brunswick --- December 24th, 1838
The situation for the Patriotes was growing more dire by the day. Quebec City was held by the enemy, and most of the Quebecios Army sat starving on the Île d'Orléans as the British shelled them from both shores. They were incapable of achieving a breakout, the British were simply to well supplied. The loyalist supply lines had to be cut.
That was why Jean-Olivier Chénier had lead 10,000 Patriotes (the bulk of the rebel army) through southern Quebec in the dead of winter. The key supply route through Madawaska County would be flying the Patriote tri-color by February, or the revolution would be dead.
Unfortunately, the surprise attack that had been planned for Christmas Eve had failed. Chénier's army arrived to sights of British earthworks and cannon surrounding the town.
"We cannot possibly hope to take the city!" Cried a lieutenant in despair. "Our men will freeze if we try to make siege. The situation is hopeless!"
Chénier looked across the frozen field towards the British works. He made his choice then; "We only risk defeat in an all out charge. Waiting insures defeat." He paused before giving the order...
"Charge!"
Martin Van Buren really hated public speaking, as contrary as that would seem to his profession of choice. He hated public debate even more, as the pressure to think on your feet were multiplied tenfold. He really really hated stifling heat.
So why had he decided to go on a speaking tour of American colonial Africa?
"Damn separatism..." thought the disgraced president "why do these mindless drones have to keep thinking up new ideas?"
His opponent, 'J.J. Roberts' had the floor; "Personally, I think that Mr. Van Buren's thoughts are absurd. The American Colonization Society was founded on the basis that common American is incapable of coexisting with people of color! Why would we journey all the way here just so we could fall back under the yoke of the American government?"
That was a fairly good start, but Van Buren had it covered.
"My friend, what do you mean? You will all eventually fall 'under the yoke', as Mr. Roberts puts it. It is inevitable that you will either join in the great experiment of Liberty and Democracy, or dissolve into some petty two-bit dictatorship. For proof you need only look towards Michigan! I am sure that, given time, you will all chose the logical path."
Roberts had a rebuttal ready, "To be a poor freeman is better than to be a well-fed slave. I am certain that the same applies to nations."
"The union is not a master. It is merely a collection of equals that provide mutual assistance to each other as needed." countered Van Buren.
His response to this came from a heckler "Tell that to Michigan!".
"Yes. Michigan." began the former VP's counter "Michigan is the perfect example of what happens when a ill-meaning man leads his fellow countrymen off the path to freedom."
Van Buren retreated off stage shortly thereafter. The mood of the crowd was still in favor of Roberts' ideals, but it was no longer hostile toward van Buren's. A definite improvement.
Petit-Sault, New Brunswick --- December 24th, 1838
The situation for the Patriotes was growing more dire by the day. Quebec City was held by the enemy, and most of the Quebecios Army sat starving on the Île d'Orléans as the British shelled them from both shores. They were incapable of achieving a breakout, the British were simply to well supplied. The loyalist supply lines had to be cut.
That was why Jean-Olivier Chénier had lead 10,000 Patriotes (the bulk of the rebel army) through southern Quebec in the dead of winter. The key supply route through Madawaska County would be flying the Patriote tri-color by February, or the revolution would be dead.
Unfortunately, the surprise attack that had been planned for Christmas Eve had failed. Chénier's army arrived to sights of British earthworks and cannon surrounding the town.
"We cannot possibly hope to take the city!" Cried a lieutenant in despair. "Our men will freeze if we try to make siege. The situation is hopeless!"
Chénier looked across the frozen field towards the British works. He made his choice then; "We only risk defeat in an all out charge. Waiting insures defeat." He paused before giving the order...
"Charge!"
A History of the Canadian Rebellions said:
Well, I was thinking something like this one, but I'm open to alternate interpretation as always.
EDIT: Yes, it IS a rip-off of the Canadian revolutionary flag. Sue me.
That would make an excllent battle flag for the republic's army Meepy. I had an idea for the national flag and, once I make some refinements I'll post it - if that's okay.
Tampico, Tamaulipas --- January 1st, 1839
Emilio Gonzalo sat behind a bar in Tampico, awaiting the inevitable chaos of war. Honestly he was just happy that he would soon be allowed to leave the hell hole that was America for civilization.
He'd been stuck ferrying arms to 'Texan' rebels across the Gulf of Mexico from Cuba. Hopefully the war would be brief, as his main contact Sam Houston claimed.
Like that's going to happen.
There were simply to many people involved in the rebellion for Santa Anna not to have noticed (Houston claimed he had revolutionaries from Tampico to Guaymas). Sure, the plan was nice and (relatively) simple (seize arsenals and barracks starting on dawn of new years day), but...
BOOM!
That'll be the arsenal I suppose. Thought Gonzalo as the bar's patrons (mostly soldiers and revolutionaries) eptied out into the street.
"Viva la democracia!" Cried a voice.
"Independencia del momento!" Called another.
With a deep sigh Gonzalo pulled his pistol and rushed towards the fray.
Mexico City, Distrito Federal --- January 21st, 1839
President Santa Anna fumed over a map of Mexico's northern states, now in open rebellion.
"I know I should've sent troops north as soon as the Texas Garrison failed to report several months ago!" Growled the Dictator. "Why didn't one of you buffoons request that I order an investigation?".
This angry inquiry was met by terrified silence by the President's cabinet, until one brave (or perhaps stupid) secretary spoke up "You were in a coma, your excellence. Remember the assassination attempt?"
The President's back went rigid as he uttered one word; "Out!"
Security dragged out the bewildered secretary, and moments later a volley of musket fire could be heard from the courtyard.
Santa Anna turned back around to face his cabinet and spoke up with a grin on his face "Now gentlemen, any Ideas as to how we are to crush such a widespread revolt?"
An elderly adviser spoke up "I say we march through the land and burn all there is to eat, and kill all people there to eat it. We should make a desert and call it peace."
This was met at first with silence, then with heavy applause when the President nodded approval toward it. All clapped, except one recently promoted secretary. Santa Anna scowled.
"You there! Do you find fault in this plan?" Demanded the President.
The secretary just sat there, until visibly deciding to speak. He stood up and said "I do not see fault in the plan. I see fault in your eagerness to exercise it. It is the same insanity that got us into this mess!"
That was all he got out before the guards dragged him from the room. Soon another lethal salute was heard from the courtyard.
Emilio Gonzalo sat behind a bar in Tampico, awaiting the inevitable chaos of war. Honestly he was just happy that he would soon be allowed to leave the hell hole that was America for civilization.
He'd been stuck ferrying arms to 'Texan' rebels across the Gulf of Mexico from Cuba. Hopefully the war would be brief, as his main contact Sam Houston claimed.
Like that's going to happen.
There were simply to many people involved in the rebellion for Santa Anna not to have noticed (Houston claimed he had revolutionaries from Tampico to Guaymas). Sure, the plan was nice and (relatively) simple (seize arsenals and barracks starting on dawn of new years day), but...
BOOM!
That'll be the arsenal I suppose. Thought Gonzalo as the bar's patrons (mostly soldiers and revolutionaries) eptied out into the street.
"Viva la democracia!" Cried a voice.
"Independencia del momento!" Called another.
With a deep sigh Gonzalo pulled his pistol and rushed towards the fray.
Mexico City, Distrito Federal --- January 21st, 1839
President Santa Anna fumed over a map of Mexico's northern states, now in open rebellion.
"I know I should've sent troops north as soon as the Texas Garrison failed to report several months ago!" Growled the Dictator. "Why didn't one of you buffoons request that I order an investigation?".
This angry inquiry was met by terrified silence by the President's cabinet, until one brave (or perhaps stupid) secretary spoke up "You were in a coma, your excellence. Remember the assassination attempt?"
The President's back went rigid as he uttered one word; "Out!"
Security dragged out the bewildered secretary, and moments later a volley of musket fire could be heard from the courtyard.
Santa Anna turned back around to face his cabinet and spoke up with a grin on his face "Now gentlemen, any Ideas as to how we are to crush such a widespread revolt?"
An elderly adviser spoke up "I say we march through the land and burn all there is to eat, and kill all people there to eat it. We should make a desert and call it peace."
This was met at first with silence, then with heavy applause when the President nodded approval toward it. All clapped, except one recently promoted secretary. Santa Anna scowled.
"You there! Do you find fault in this plan?" Demanded the President.
The secretary just sat there, until visibly deciding to speak. He stood up and said "I do not see fault in the plan. I see fault in your eagerness to exercise it. It is the same insanity that got us into this mess!"
That was all he got out before the guards dragged him from the room. Soon another lethal salute was heard from the courtyard.
Given the name of the TL, you just HAVE to have a battle/some action happen at "Trois Pistoles" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trois-Pistoles,_Quebec
South of Monterrey, Nuevo Leon --- March 3rd, 1839
Sam Houston gazed through his field glasses into the valley toward the Mexican column marching north towards Monterrey, and Texas.
"Coño!" exclaimed one of Houston's fellow revolutionaries "That's the President's own Cavalry down there. Eight thousand of Mexico's best horsemen."
"Aw, shut up Jose!" called Houston "Do you think I'd make you haul these guns all the way up the mountain just so we could let them fall into El Tirano's hands?" After a quick shrug Houston continued "Now head north and get your Marksmen ready. Perez! On your feet, we're gonna need those cannon in a minute!"
In what seemed like an eternity, the enemy was in position and the revolutionaries were ready. Houston gave a nod to the bugler, and the call rang out.
So did the Spanish-built battery on top of the mountain.
Down in the valley, the noise seemed to do almost as much damage as the cannons themselves. The frightened whinnies of the cavalry nearly drowned out the sharp crack of the skirmishers' weapons. Nearly.
The federal commander seemed to be having difficulty regaining control of his forces as artillery shells rained down from the east, and rifle shot poured in from both sides. After fifteen minutes of such chaos, the feds began to trudge uphill, abandoning their horses in the canyon.
Houston grinned; they were panicking! The valley, being nearly a mile wide, would've provided a decent way to draw out the revolutionaries, but by coming up the mountain the cavalry ceded their only advantage, that of the horse.
CRAAAAACK!
The first four federal ranks crumbled as Houston's second, hidden battery unloaded a volley of grapeshot at point-blank range. The rebels charged, bayonets fixed, toward the already retreating federal column.
It was a total rout.
Saint John, New Brunswick --- April 2nd, 1839
The winter had been hard on the British. 9,000 had died in Quebec City, and the Patriotes now pressed towards Nova Scotia and victory. Siege works dominated the landscape outside of Saint John and armies grappled on the Isthmus of Chignecto. To the west, Michigan had finally broken the defenses of Windsor and reinforcements were thrown against the fortifications at York (which seemed ready to crack any day now).
Yet, as evident to Jean-Olivier Chénier as he watched his troops' charge against the British be broken for the third time today, the Patriotes' position was in many ways more shaky then the British's. The revolutionaries had slogged their way though New Brunswick without regard to the strength of the opposition nor the freezing weather, and it had cost them dearly. Chénier's own army lost five hundred men every week (albeit mostly from desertion). Now that the Loyalists were ready for a fight, the Patriote momentum evaporated.
The war would go on...
Sam Houston gazed through his field glasses into the valley toward the Mexican column marching north towards Monterrey, and Texas.
"Coño!" exclaimed one of Houston's fellow revolutionaries "That's the President's own Cavalry down there. Eight thousand of Mexico's best horsemen."
"Aw, shut up Jose!" called Houston "Do you think I'd make you haul these guns all the way up the mountain just so we could let them fall into El Tirano's hands?" After a quick shrug Houston continued "Now head north and get your Marksmen ready. Perez! On your feet, we're gonna need those cannon in a minute!"
In what seemed like an eternity, the enemy was in position and the revolutionaries were ready. Houston gave a nod to the bugler, and the call rang out.
So did the Spanish-built battery on top of the mountain.
Down in the valley, the noise seemed to do almost as much damage as the cannons themselves. The frightened whinnies of the cavalry nearly drowned out the sharp crack of the skirmishers' weapons. Nearly.
The federal commander seemed to be having difficulty regaining control of his forces as artillery shells rained down from the east, and rifle shot poured in from both sides. After fifteen minutes of such chaos, the feds began to trudge uphill, abandoning their horses in the canyon.
Houston grinned; they were panicking! The valley, being nearly a mile wide, would've provided a decent way to draw out the revolutionaries, but by coming up the mountain the cavalry ceded their only advantage, that of the horse.
CRAAAAACK!
The first four federal ranks crumbled as Houston's second, hidden battery unloaded a volley of grapeshot at point-blank range. The rebels charged, bayonets fixed, toward the already retreating federal column.
It was a total rout.
Saint John, New Brunswick --- April 2nd, 1839
The winter had been hard on the British. 9,000 had died in Quebec City, and the Patriotes now pressed towards Nova Scotia and victory. Siege works dominated the landscape outside of Saint John and armies grappled on the Isthmus of Chignecto. To the west, Michigan had finally broken the defenses of Windsor and reinforcements were thrown against the fortifications at York (which seemed ready to crack any day now).
Yet, as evident to Jean-Olivier Chénier as he watched his troops' charge against the British be broken for the third time today, the Patriotes' position was in many ways more shaky then the British's. The revolutionaries had slogged their way though New Brunswick without regard to the strength of the opposition nor the freezing weather, and it had cost them dearly. Chénier's own army lost five hundred men every week (albeit mostly from desertion). Now that the Loyalists were ready for a fight, the Patriote momentum evaporated.
The war would go on...
You know, there are 3 or 4 different alternate timeline histories of the American antebellum period that are currently being written on this board, and I have to say that yours is the most interesting and entertaining read. I am so relieved you brought my namesake, Sam Houston, out of humiliating defeat back to leading an even greater revolution against the Mexicans. Can't wait to read how this revolution goes - but so far it sounds promising. Keep up the good work.
---
Veracruz, Veracruz --- April 14th, 1839
President Santa Anna stood at the end of a pier, gazing out at the Gulf of Mexico. Things were looking up in the war, his harsh new policies made a rebellion in the capital unlikely and his elite cavalry were well on their way to crush the rebels in the north. It was time for a vacation.
The president's curiosity was piqued as a vast forest of sails appeared over the horizon. He turned to his aid and asked for a spyglass.
After a quick interim the president's wish had been answered, and he looked toward the now magnified fleet of ships. He could now see into the flurry of activity that consumed the ships' decks; landing boats were being loaded, powder kegs were rolled, and cannon brought to bear upon the shore. All under the flutter of the flags of Spain and France.
Wait just a second- thought the president as the significance sunk in -Cannons!
Santa Anna had just barely made it to dry land when a lucky shot demolished the pier. Moments later, an officer of the Presidential Guard literally ran into the President.
"What do we do, your excellency?" Demanded the confused major "Shall we defend the port?"
The President considered for a moment "Not exactly. I want you -Lopez, right?- to take a company of the guard and hold the port. I will take the rest to finish them off once your force is routed."
"Yes sir! What was that part at the end?" Replied the Major
"Nothing, Lopez..."
Out on the sea, Emilio Gonzales watched the landings and bombardment from the deck of his ship, El Sereno Zorra. Veracruz was already in flames, and the Mexican garrison seemed to be severely undermanned; The Franco-Spanish coalition should seize the day.
Gonzales smirked as he remembered the French casus belli. Apparently, some French pastry chef's shop had been wrecked by the Mexican army a few years ago. The French had demanded a million pesos in reparations, and the Mexicans had refused. So, war had been 'unavoidable'.
Only an hour later, a white flag fluttered above Veracruz. The battle was over before it began.
Rivière-du-Loup, Lower Canada --- May 1st, 1839
General Brown gaped as cannon after cannon was unloaded from the transports. Above each barge fluttered Michigan's naval ensign, and every artilleryman wore the pale green uniform of the Republic. Michigan had finally began to orient it's self towards war, and the Army was reaping the benefits; more ammunition, food, and guns.
We don't look like a bunch of damn bandits anymore.
His new army was being sent eastward to help the Patriotes establish a breakthrough against the British. 10,000 troops fresh out of the new academy in Ypsilanti, nearly a third of the Republic's army.
Brown was puzzled to see a unit assembling under what appeared to be a simplified American flag, with two stripes and a lone star. Who were they?
"Hey, colonel! What's the name of your unit?" asked the general.
The Colonel snapped to attention and said "First Texan Skirmishers, reporting!"
"Ah, so you're from Hopperfield?"
"Yes, sir." The colonel paused for a moment "D'ya s'pose we can lick the lobsterbacks, sir?
The General looked down the road at the Michiganian column receding far into the distance.
"We just might, Colonel. We just might..."
Cordoba, Veracruz --- July 11th, 1839
Santa Anna glared at a map detailing the Mexican Army's situation relative to the Franco-Spanish invaders. It didn't look good.
The Spanish main column was closing on his position from two sides and the French were threatening to cut off his army's only line of retreat over the mountains. To top it all off, the Mexicans' supply line (or what served as one, at least) had been cut weeks ago. The army was now operating at one fifth regular rations.
The dictator's thoughts were cut short when a group of officers barged in unannounced. Some looked guilty, more angry, but most just looked... smug.
"What is the meaning of this!?" demanded the president.
Without a word to their commander, the officers pulled their sidearms.
Halifax, Nova Scotia --- September 3rd, 1839
Baron Ashburton was mortified on behalf of his nation. Britain had been humiliated in the western hemisphere for the second time in as many decades. Unless he played his cards right as chief negotiator to the Michi-Canadian alliance, it would not be the last such humiliation either.
Mason (the "President" of the "Republic") spoke up from across the table "We demand nothing less than all of Rupert's land, Columbia all the way down to the 42nd parallel, and the northern part of Upper Canada. Quebec requires nothing less than full independence. If you offer anything less than that we will leave and the war will resume."
The diplomat pondered the demands for a while. It's all mostly useless land anyway... We can take it back later.
"Great Britain finds these terms, although quite harsh, to be a preferable alternative to prolonged war. I accept, on the condition that we will be allowed passage up and down the Saint Lawrence, so as to allow us to remain in control of Upper Canada." We probably would've lost all the land to a real opponent anyway... like the French or the Yanks.
Mason seemed to have trouble believing what he heard. Belatedly he stuttered out "Deal!"
Santa Anna glared at a map detailing the Mexican Army's situation relative to the Franco-Spanish invaders. It didn't look good.
The Spanish main column was closing on his position from two sides and the French were threatening to cut off his army's only line of retreat over the mountains. To top it all off, the Mexicans' supply line (or what served as one, at least) had been cut weeks ago. The army was now operating at one fifth regular rations.
The dictator's thoughts were cut short when a group of officers barged in unannounced. Some looked guilty, more angry, but most just looked... smug.
"What is the meaning of this!?" demanded the president.
Without a word to their commander, the officers pulled their sidearms.
Halifax, Nova Scotia --- September 3rd, 1839
Baron Ashburton was mortified on behalf of his nation. Britain had been humiliated in the western hemisphere for the second time in as many decades. Unless he played his cards right as chief negotiator to the Michi-Canadian alliance, it would not be the last such humiliation either.
Mason (the "President" of the "Republic") spoke up from across the table "We demand nothing less than all of Rupert's land, Columbia all the way down to the 42nd parallel, and the northern part of Upper Canada. Quebec requires nothing less than full independence. If you offer anything less than that we will leave and the war will resume."
The diplomat pondered the demands for a while. It's all mostly useless land anyway... We can take it back later.
"Great Britain finds these terms, although quite harsh, to be a preferable alternative to prolonged war. I accept, on the condition that we will be allowed passage up and down the Saint Lawrence, so as to allow us to remain in control of Upper Canada." We probably would've lost all the land to a real opponent anyway... like the French or the Yanks.
Mason seemed to have trouble believing what he heard. Belatedly he stuttered out "Deal!"
This light against the Empire must be avenged! For an upstart Republic of all things! Charma will kick Mason in the jewels yet!