The Time of Eagles

Prologue - 1860

Three terms ? Nobody had had three consecutive terms since the great Aaron Burr. Stephen Watts Kearny did not think of himself as great, but he was intelligent enough to realise that history might, perhaps, make that judgment. If only he could stop things from going wrong.

Well, true Henry Clay had had three terms, but there had been eight years in between his first and second, a testament many would say to the failure of that first administration. Kearny had been well-served in his own first term, William Worth, God rest his soul, an accomplished and intelligent Vice President and President of the Senate. His second term had been harder, Franklin Pierce stepping up from Secretary of State to Vice President, but one could hardly blame Pierce for the situation of the country. No, they had to blame him, he alone stood at the top of the pile

But, sure he could take the blame, but could he really be held responsible ? Revolt in Monterrey, a brief war with Mexico, continuing problems with the Apache, the growing threat of settler-indigineous conflict in the South-West, and on top of it all the sudden Gold Fever sweeping California ! Not only that, but Fredonia was on the war path, the apparently sane President Clark augmented by George Bickley as his Secretary of State. Bickley ! Knights of the Golden Circle, an alliance with the Millerites (for God's sake, and that was funny in itself...God's sake !) and fillibustering reigned supreme

Except that it didn't. What the USA could get away with against the Cheyenne and Arapaho in the Great Plains Confederacy, was much less certain with Fredonia's scheming in the ViceRoyalty of California. Spain had responded with soldiers, with convoys of settlers, with a naval squadron sent across to the Pacific coast. And Spain had regained a modicum of control, but only in Alta California, not so across the mountains in the dangerous no-man's land approaching the Fredonian outpost of the Great Salt Lake

Kearny, at sixty-six, was too calm an operator to worry overmuch about events. Yes, Fredonia and Spain were locked in a proxy war, but there had been many proxy wars since 1800 and few of them had resulted in an overt declaration. Oh yes, SOME had, and with devastating results. But most started off as proxies because the two powers did not wish to get directly involved, and keeping that in mind was as important as anything else

1861 saw the start of President Kearny's third term, surely his last at his age. He was determined that the difficulties and problems which had raised their heads during the second would be sorted out in this last term of office. Sure, he had been able to put before the electorate - DEFEAT of the rising in Monterrey, DEFEAT of Mexico, DEFEAT of the Apache, but it had been a true charge of Charles Francis Adams, for all that he had been roundly defeated, that these defeats of the enemy could only have come about because they had been emboldened to act against the United States in the first place

His third term had been won because the accumulation of negatives had never risen to a critical level. The remnants of the Whigs had turned Abolitionist, the remnants of the Democrats has gone fully down the states-rights pro-slavery route. And briefly, dangerously, had arisen a fourth party, an amalgam of all who had been disenfranchised by this split, and who could not believe in the American Party. Disillusioned as yet, this group was now forging a new party, a new reality, after losing the election

Kearny was enough of a political operator to know when a new enemy was arising...

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
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1862

King George V had more of an interest in naval affairs than he might be imagined to have had. In many ways it was the influence of his cousin, George William, 3rd Duke of Gloucester, a Rear Admiral in the Royal Navy and a veteran of the last Tripoli Campaign.

His Majesty knew every detail of his fleet, the names and specifics of his warships, their distribution, commanders and orders. His wife, Queen Mary of Gloucester, the Rear Admiral's sister, reckoned that she had it bad - from both brother and husband she was assailed with details of Britannia's waning naval might

For waning it was. The royal family did not control the navy, did not control the government. Since the revolutionary period of the World War, and especially since the Social Democratic Federation's victory in the national elections, the royal writ had been getting smaller and smaller. Politicians might defer to the structures of power, the SDF leadership still brief the king on world events, but George knew that he lacked the power of his forefathers to intervene if he felt the need arise.

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
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It arrives! Huzzah. Brief question: how is Kearney starting his third term in 1863? Unless the timing of elections has been shifted it should by 1861 or 1865.
 
It arrives! Huzzah. Brief question: how is Kearney starting his third term in 1863? Unless the timing of elections has been shifted it should by 1861 or 1865.

Hmmm, that's a very good point !

It says 1860 in my draft list of US presidents for this timeline, so er...I guess I had that sort of double-think that allows me to hold two contradictory pieces of information in my head at the same time

Need to check my backstory now, though I don't think it changes anything

Probably best to take the Kearny piece as an 1860 Prologue, and then consider the rest to be based in 1862 (rather than 1863) since that nicely ties up Britain and France for me as well

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
I've been distracted of late and unable to absorb in depth.

What is the state of naval tech? Is there explosive shells and a beginning to ironclads?

I am surprised that you have only recently discovered William Miller and his prophecies. Are you aware that the Seventh Day Adventists and the Jehovah Witnesses are offshoots of the Millerites. Also this sort of nonsense is still with us. If you doubt me on that point Google "Harold Camping" LOL.

I think Fredonia's long term survival as an autonomous nation is very unlikely and that of the Plains Indian Confederacy impossible.
 
I've been distracted of late and unable to absorb in depth.

What is the state of naval tech? Is there explosive shells and a beginning to ironclads?

I am surprised that you have only recently discovered William Miller and his prophecies. Are you aware that the Seventh Day Adventists and the Jehovah Witnesses are offshoots of the Millerites. Also this sort of nonsense is still with us. If you doubt me on that point Google "Harold Camping" LOL.

I think Fredonia's long term survival as an autonomous nation is very unlikely and that of the Plains Indian Confederacy impossible.

I had Miller in my 'Inside Index' but only just started looking up people I'd made a few brief notes on. Then I thought, wow, he sounds perfect - mix up Miller and Bickley and we'd have a wild time !

I agree on Fredonia and the Indians - the ONLY chance for Fredonia is to take California and try to survive on that basis, but yes, its weird

Naval tech is now widely differentiated with the leading powers going to become something of a surprise. I give a hint in the British snippet. Hopefully tonight I can write more - just had 10 glasses of mulled wine, tho, lol

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
I had Miller in my 'Inside Index' but only just started looking up people I'd made a few brief notes on. Then I thought, wow, he sounds perfect - mix up Miller and Bickley and we'd have a wild time !

I agree on Fredonia and the Indians - the ONLY chance for Fredonia is to take California and try to survive on that basis, but yes, its weird

Naval tech is now widely differentiated with the leading powers going to become something of a surprise. I give a hint in the British snippet. Hopefully tonight I can write more - just had 10 glasses of mulled wine, tho, lol

Best Regards
Grey Wolf

Glad you see the problems with Fredonia.

There was a lot of religious weirdness in the US in the middle of the 19th century though a lot of AH only deals with the Mormons. Are you familiar with the Fox sisters who spawned Spiritualism?
 
Glad you see the problems with Fredonia.

There was a lot of religious weirdness in the US in the middle of the 19th century though a lot of AH only deals with the Mormons. Are you familiar with the Fox sisters who spawned Spiritualism?

I don't think so. I remember a Free Love sect that hit it off at the same time as Mormonism then died a death, presumably from its own internal tensions.

Do you know much on Bickley ? I have the stuff in "What If America" and from Wiki, but wondered what your opinion was of him ? He seems more a POTENTIAL AH event rather than something big in OTL, but I did like his vision of the Golden Circle, and he was definitely a fillibusterer type - ironically in this ATL he's doing it for Fredonia rather than the USA, but many people within the USA would regard Fredonia as the US's proxy.

That is part of the reason why it has survived so long - Clay supported it in order to achieve this, and from Houston to Kearny its gone that way

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
1863

Mirza Mughal commanded a vast, but heterogenous army upon the plain. Fifty year-old Charles, Viscount Canning looked out from his command post and stroked the unaccustomed stubble of his chin. The British Army in India lay in far more formal lines, but much smaller, much less colourful.
"Our professionalism will carry us through" Canning snapped
Captain John Parkes looked across at the Governor General of British India and frowned to himself,
"Your Excellency,,,"
But just as he spoke the cannon thundered...

Behind the lines, at a village in the rear of the British position, Arthur Richard Wellesley, 2nd Duke of Wellington looked out with his telescope, and carefully watched the beginnings of the battle. It was going to be tight; could they prevail before the arrival of the French ? He did not doubt that they WOULD prevail but if the French came up...well, there would be problems !

Ever since the death of Bahadur Shah II, India had been going to Hell. The Sikh Empire had been eating away at the extremeties of the Mughal Empire for years, but with the death of the emperor it had all got out of hand. Britain and France had gone on the offensive, whilst Mirza Shah had mobilised the empire and its allies first against the Sikhs, and then against the Europeans

Now battle was joined, and the fire of the guns - British power ! But what was British power ? In these straightened times, it was on the wane, but was it up to Indian standards ? France, though, was not much better, it was even all a joke really. Wellington took the telescope from his eye and looked at the map upon the wall; coloured blocks, arrows showing the march of armies, the clash of empires
"Faded empires" he growled
It was not like this in his father's time. Arthur Wellesley had strode the Indian stage a colossus, but now that stage was second class, its players merely shadows of their former selves

"Sir !", a cavalry captain strode into the room, "Communication from Admiral Fitzroy"
At least the telegraph was still working, then.
Wellington took the single sheet of paper and read it,
"I see" he said slowly
"Yes sir"
The duke nodded and waved him away, Proof of the waning of empire, indeed...


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
The ironclad frigate USS President nudged its way into the harbour at Tampico, in the United States' Territory of Monterrey. Admiral David Farragut stepped ashore as soon as it had docked, and strode purposefully, but unhurriedly, to the port commandant's office
"Ah, Admiral, sir" Commodore Andrew MacDonald doffed his hat, "This came through but an hour ago on the telegraph"
He handed across a closely-written sheet of paper, which the admiral took with a frown.

Two minutes later, after reading it over several times, and staring blankly, or so it seemed, out of the window, Farragut placed the paper upon the commandant's desk,
"Have the President coaled and resupplied at once.", he said, "I will leave tomorrow. Commodore Semmes can follow as soon as he arrives here"
"Yes sir" MacDonald answered blandly
"And tell Washington that I will want Brady and Walker in on this"
MacDonald blanched but nodded,
"Yes sir"

When the door had closed, Captain Josiah Tunstall let out a deep breath and looked across to the Commodore,
"That's it ?" he asked, incredulously, "That is what we get for a reaction ?"
MacDonald smiled ruefully,
"Clearly you do not know the man's reputation"
"Pray enlighten me, sir"
"Old Iron Pants they call him"
"But not to his face, I would wager ?"
"No one has done so and lived to tell of it, at least"
"I thought not"

"Brady and Walker, sir ?", the Lieutenant-Commander in the telegraph room could not keep his amazement out of his voice
"By the admiral's direct request" Commodore MacDonald snapped
"But..." the junior officer shifted uneasily, "They are scum !"
"They are indeed" MacDonald shrugged, "But even scum has its uses."
"It does ?" the man was incredulous
"So it would seem", MacDonald sighed, "Just send the message, please"
"Yes sir"
Defeated, the junior officer did so

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
The young man was somewhat discomfitted to find that he would be sharing the compartment with an ancient, but he determined that no sign of this would show upon his face. As he manoevred in his case, and took his seat opposite the elderly gentleman, he felt the keen eyes of the latter take in his soul.
"A man in a hurry ?", the old man had to be at least in his seventies, but his voice was strong
"I am to Bristol", the younger replied, "George J Cayley at your service"
He offered his hand, and the other took it with surprising strength
"John Frost", he said simply and stroked his whiskers, "Cayley, eh ? Any relation ?"
"Yes sir", George was unsure why he had added the title, but something was stirring at the back of his mind, "I am his grandson"
"Ah, yes", Frost settled back in his chair, "And are you in the same line of business ?"
"Very much, sir"

George had remembered who he was ! John Frost, veteran Social Democrat, and...he could not remember for sure. Certainly Frost had been a government minister throughout the 1850s but was he still ?

"My name goes before me" Frost said to break the silence, a twinkle in his eye, "You are perhaps wondering whether I am still important ?"
"Er...yes, sir" George did not see the point of lying
"Well now..."

At that the train began to move, a series of sudden jerks eventually merging into one continuous movement as the broad gauge Great Western express got under way.
Frost waited until the initial clatter and banging had subsided and then continued,
"I declined a seat in the Lords", he snorted, "That prelude to the cemetery"
"Er" George was foundering
"To answer the unspoken question", Frost said, "I remain as Minister Without Portfolio, which allows my vast expertise", he loaded those two words with a light weight of mockery, "to be available to the government when and as they wish."
"I see, sir", George was not going to admit to not having a clue what 'Minister Without Portfolio' meant.
"Your name also goes before you" Frost said

It took George a moment to realise that there was an implied question in the statement.
"Yes, sir" he answered hurriedly, in order to catch up, "My grandfather's designs are being bought by an American company. I am to show them to their representatives at Bristol on the morrow."
"Sold ?" Frost looked decidely frosty, "Will the Americans own all the rights ?"
"If they pay what we are asking, sir"
"But why ?" the aged politician shifted agitatedly upon his seat, "Why sell something like this to the Americans ? Why sell it at all ?"

George was not sure how to answer the question, given that the other was a member of the government, but he felt that he had no choice,
"Sir, with all respect, the SDF government has not looked favourably upon innovative industries such as ours. We have tried for over a decade to get a government contract, even if only on a research basis, but always failed. With the sad loss of my grandfather five years ago now..." he paused, then sighed, "It is as if the creative spark has gone out of the business, and although we have our regular customers, it has become obvious that we cannot survive in business in these circumstances."
Frost frowned deeply at the young man,
"If the government has not accepted your designs, then perhaps however pretty they may be, however much 'fun' can be gained by their use..."

"No sir !", George did not like to cut him off, but he had to speak out, "There is nothing wrong with the designs; above all they point to the future, to where aeronautics could be developed - but only with an injection of money"
Frost was silent for a moment, angry at having been interrupted, then he nodded. If he was going to have to share the compartment with the younger man all the way to Bristol, then an edgy silence between them would be the least welcome of travelling companions.
"Show me your designs", he said, "I am no expert, but I will be able to understand what is involved"
George gaped, then hurriedly closed his mouth
"Yes sir"
He rushed to open up his case


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
"Damn stupid state" John B Magruder raved, "To allow women into its legislature!"
Sometimes Ben Butler couldn't help agree with such sentiments, not because he shared the mysanthropic views of Magruder, but because the few women who did manage to get themselves elected invariably had a habit of raising difficult questions that most of the political machines would have happily left undisturbed.

The two men were walking across the lawns outside the Massachusetts state house, rebuilt after the debacle of the World War which had seen much of Boston razed to the ground by invading Redcoats. In the decade since its completion, the new building had slowly acquired a certain grandeur as its newness dimmed and its freshness got garnered with age.

But neither man was taking in the beauty of the scene, nor the even the brightness of the day. The Massachusetts State Legislature was voting at this very moment, and it was voting to abrogate federal law. Nothing could be more serious to either man

As a federal cabinet member, and even more so as a native Virginian, the whole thing was somewhere between unsavoury and despicable in Magruder's eyes. A professional soldier, he had only reluctantly accepted the position of Secretary of War in succession to Robert E Lee. Lee had gone on to greater things, serving now as Secretary of State in President Kearny's third term, one of the so-called 'Old Stalwarts' of the administration. Magruder could hardly begrudge him that, but wished that he had been able to maintain an active military command, especially with the situation developing, or deteriorating, down South.

As Governor of Massachusetts, Benjamin Butler had hardly expected to find himself facing the opening salvo of what could be a very damaging split within the Union. But the merger of renegade factions from Whig and Democrats alike into the Progressive Party had left the two husks of the old political system inhabited almost solely by fundamentalists and extremists. Whilst the American Party and the Progressive Party sought to achieve as broad a national coalition as possible, the remnants of the Whigs had set course for an abolitionist utopia, whilst the remnant Democrats took an opposing stance

And as luck would have it, or rather ill luck had it, Massachusetts was an abolitionist heartland, a Whig stronghold, and today the State Legislature was voting on State senator Lydia Francis' proposition. And all the indications were that the Whig majority would pass it, as much for the boost it would give to the Whig name in the press, as from any genuine belief in her sentiments.

They strode up the steps and into the empty concourse.
"We had better not to be too late!" Magruder growled
"You can always blame Mr Vanderbilt" Butler pointed out
"I most certainly will!" the old soldier snarled, "Professional management of the railways indeed ! They should be run by the army, that's what I say"
Butler declined to offer an opinion, and consulted his pocket watch. They would be barely on time.

Inside the chamber, the Speaker moved to a vote.
The Secretary of War and the state Governor burst through the door a moment too late.
"Point of order !" yelled State Senator, Matthew Davy
He had gotten an address by both men onto the agenda, bought every favour going in doing so, and was not about to give up due to a technicality
"Too late gentlemen !" shouted Lydia Francis from her position, "The move to a vote has already occurred"
"Mr Speaker !", Benjamin Butler rounded on the individual, "I demand that you belay that and allow our distinguished guest to address the legislature"

For a moment the speaker seemed to waver, then he sensed the eyes of Lydia Francis burning into him like hot coals left upon a mat,
"I am sorry but it is too late. What is done cannot be undone."
Magruder lifted him off the floor by his lapels,
"You should listen to your own words, fool !" he growled into the other's face, "Are you aware of what you have let loose upon us all ?"
"I must protest !" the man squealed
Magruder dumped him upon the floor and stormed out

After a moment Ben Butler followed him. There was nothing to be done now, but hope that enough of the members felt sufficiently intimidated to change their mind

As it was they did - the other way. The vote to abrogate the Fugitive Slave Act was carried by an overwhelming majority


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
William Walker walked out of the doss house and down to the quays, the handwritten letter clenched tightly in his fist. Although not yet forty years of age, he looked perhaps ten years older, so hard had been the last few years. But was he finally about to be repaid, to be recognised as what he had always claimed to be ? Or was this all somebody's idea of a cruel joke ? Perhaps neither, perhaps he imagined the letter, or the words upon the paper, and was merely walking amongst his own fantasies, pathetic though that would be.

Commodore Andrew MacDonald set down the telescope and looked across to where Captain Tunstall was studiously ignoring him, writing out the week's reports at his desk.
"Something shambling and vermin-ridden comes this way"
"Ah..." Tunstall had little cause for speculation for he knew as well as the commandant who it was
"No sign of Brady though"
Tunstall set down his pen and sighed
"There was NEVER any sign of Brady", he said exasperated, "That was his whole point"
"I guess that's true" MacDonald looked back out of the window, the figure that much nearer now that there was no need for any viewing aids

In one of the many taverns along Tampico's waterfront, a second man, slightly less seedy than the first, was just finishing a flagon of ale. He was using up what little money he had remaining to his name to do so, but the letter he clutched in his hand was like a million dollar bill to him. Screwed up and soiled now, he knew its words by heart. A full pardon, a commission in the Monterrey Volunteer Regiment, immediate sailing, report to Commodore Semmes without delay.
Well, he had delayed, but if they were desperate enough to do all that for him, then they were desperate enough to wait.
"Another !" he shouted at the buxom young thing, and goosed her behind as she passed him. Ah, but life was looking up !

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
"Defeat on the Plains of Cawnpor"
The headline in The Times of London did not make for a happy read that morning. Edward Cardwell moved slowly about the room, his mind racing with what it all might mean. Without even noticing, he tidied up the previous night's chess game, replacing the pieces inside the custom-made ivory box. Those damned Frenchies ! But what could one do? It was not as if Britain could dare to declare war on them...

A short while later he was seated in the back of his carriage as his driver began the arduous journey to the Houses of Parliament for the afternoon session. Oh yes, there would be questions asked a-plenty, but he doubted whether there would be any answers. India was so far away, the news was already two weeks old, and what did the Social Democrats care for the colonies anyway ?

He sat back and rested a hand across his eyes. Maybe the SDF would finally sway and fall, but they had survived so much in the last ten years, had weathered every storm and almost become seen as not just the natural, but the only, party of government. The Reform Party, his party, had clutched to its coat tails, grown at the expense of the Whigs and Radicals, but always the Social Democrats had picked up half of those who fled their old allegiance. Maybe things would change now ? He doubted it

But what was to be done ? In a way it was already a pointless question - for two weeks now, Canning and Wellington, and whoever else had survived, would have been formulating a strategy, even beginning to implement it. Words from London would be less than meaningless - by the time they reached the front anywhere from four to six weeks would have passed and they would have no bearing at all upon a reality that the home country was not even yet aware of. All that could be done was to send reinforcements, consider new appointments and lay out again to those on the scene what the ultimate aim of British policy was

Except that, unfortunately, the SDF did not have one. As far as India was concerned, it was to be governed in an "enlightened" way and "reformed". Quite what this amounted to when the whole continent was in arms, and armies were everywhere on the march, nobody knew - least of all those who had formulated the orders. Canning had probably done his best as Governor-General, but with the Frenchies on the march, not to mention those damned Sikh devils, Cardwell doubted that his best had come close enough

Defeat was a stark word. The previous week's newspapers had all been full of the "close-run thing" which everyone had chosen to interpret as a hard-won victory. Those voices, such as his, which had asked questions of this had been shouted down as scaremongering - if by the SDF - or as unpatriotic, if by the Tories. He had not cared, he could now claim to be vindicated - but what good did that do anybody ?

They clattered across Westminster Bridge and he sought to arrange his thoughts into a sensible manner, one good enough to act as a foundation for that afternoon's debates. But the turmoil inside of him was too strong, and it was still in a state of some agitation that he stepped down from his carriage and joined the stream of men heading for the chamber. What would be would be. He had relied upon inspiration often enough in the past - both as a lawyer and as a politician. It would have to serve him again today


Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Fifty-three year-old Raphael Semmes looked stonily at the two men before him. One was a vermin-infested tramp, the other a drunken sot. What the Hell was Admiral Farragut thinking ?!
"Get them cleaned up" he snapped
Captain Isiah Jones of the ironclad frigate USS Lafayette turned to one of the junior officers gathered by the deck rail,
"Lieutenant, see to it !"
"Yes sir", the man motioned for several armed sailors to fall in behind the disreputable pair, "You will follow me" he said
The sailors were not needed for both men did as they were told

Later, Semmes waited upon the bridge, looking out over the harbour at Tampico as the sun slowly lowered itself upon the horizon. Laid out before him was the pride of the United States' Atlantic Fleet, a dozen ironclad frigates, none older than five years, almost twice that number of ironclad corvettes, though some of those dated back to the mid 1850s. Brig steamers and little avisos darted about amongst them. There could be little doubt that this was the United States at war - or prepared to be, for few knew exactly how this would play out.

"Sir, officers Brady and Walker at your service"
The Commodore dragged himself out of his reverie and looked in astonishment at the two clean-shaven, pink-skinned men, freshly kitted out in incongruous Monterrey blue. He took a deep breath,
"Captain of Volunteers, William Walker... Captain of Volunteers, Hamilton Brady... you are hereby accepted on board the United States ship Lafayette. Your orders", he handed them the sealed envelopes that the port commandant had got in person from Old Iron Pants

William Walker looked first at Brady, then at the Commodore, then at the envelope in his hand. With a shrug he ripped across the top and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
"Oh capital !" he laughed, "I think I know a bright young thing in Colon"
Brady raised his eyebrows and opened his,
"Hmmm" he pursed his lips, "Maybe I never did explain just what happened in Limon, the last time"
"Is this a problem ?" Semmes frowned hard at him
"Yes", Brady folded the envelope and secreted it away, "But I will deal with it"
"Very well", he looked across to the ship's captain who nodded, "Gentlemen, welcome aboard"

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
"What in devilment are the United Provinces of Central America ?" the Grand Duke of Wurzburg cast his newspaper to one side, and tucked into the bowl of soup before him.
Across the table, his guest did likewise, secretly amused at both the Grand Duke's ignorance and his vexed response to it. After a while, the sixty-five year old monarch set down his spoon and looked levelly across the wooden expanse,
"I see that you do not share my confusion" he said

Ferdinand de Lesseps had seen it all, and then some. His career had included diplomatic postings in the Republics of Constantine and Tunis, seen a hair's breadth escape from the latter when it was over-run by the armies of Islam, and seen him end up at Alexandria, as consul to the court of Mehmet Ali. He had been instrumental in the rebuilding and modernisation of the Alexandria arsenal, his diplomatic contacts helping to ensure easy access to French capital and industry, and then in the early years of Said's rule he had been taken on in a private role to overhaul the whole of Egypt's transport network.

But France's star had waned. The vast expense of the war had wrought its ruin, the civil conflict had rendered her useless for too long, and even though under Orleans' presidency she had seen a brief revival, it was but that - brief. Said had thanked him for his strategic vision, for his plans and the beginnings of work to unite the several railways of Egypt's vast new realm, but in the end he had been supplanted by an Austrian - of all people- and had returned home. But France itself had offered no joys

Capital had fled elsewhere - to the United States, on the one hand, and East into Austria, Russia, Prussia...and to Germany. He had conceived of several projects, all stillborn, until he had conceived of this one, the boldest of them all. It played upon Said's continuing regard for him personally, if not for his nation, and it was aimed high. If he could raise enough money from the German Empire, and secure a meaningful commitment from the Egytian Emperor, then it could be a reality. And his name would live in Immortality

But first, he had to get the money. He nodded again at the Habsburg monarch seated opposite him, and answered the question,
"Several small provinces of the Spanish ViceRoyalty of Granada have declared themselves independent as a union of the type epitomised by the United States of America"
"It seems to be exciting the gentlemen of the press", Grand Duke Leopold accepted this enlightenment with good grace
"Early accounts are that President Kearny in Washington has dispatched an expeditionary force to aid the new country."
"So that is why His Majesty Carlos VI is reportedly most vexed..."

"Indeed", agreed de Lesseps, "If he reinforces his ViceRoyalty he risks war with the United States"
"I recall that all of New Spain was absorbed by America in the Treaty of Amsterdam..."
"Not all of it", de Lesseps corrected, "The ViceRoyalty of California was once a part"
"Ah, California !" Leopold picked up his spoon once more, "All that gold"
"That is part of it..."
"Not just a part", Leopold's eyes shined now, "This is AMERICA we are discussing, to them gold is king. If they could get their hands upon California..."
"Oh yes" agreed de Lesseps

They went back to eating their soup

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Actually, not sure but may have made Wurzburg a kingdom. Will need to check and edit as appropriate

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
The Miskit Coast provided a plethora of offshore islands that the US fleet had no trouble in occupying and taking for a base. Some were around 200 miles off the Eastern coast of the self-declared United Provinces, others as close in as fifty. But all offered no opposition

In theory, Miskitia was a British protectorate, but the Social Democrat government in London had repeatedly cut back on both the military and political presence, and the king of the Miskit Indians himself had offered the opinion that Britain no longer exercised real authority in the area. It was at his request that the US Navy had come, a detail that most of the European newspapers currently misunderstood.

Yes, of course, the administration of President Kearny had welcomed the declaration of independence by the UPCA provisional government in San Jose. Yes, of course, the USA had promised immediate friendship and the opening of trade, including the repeal of any anti-Spanish legislation upon the statute books. But the emissary of the UPCA had made it clear, upon his arrival in Washington, that the United Provinces had no need of yet more deluded fillibusterers, and whilst they welcomed a Neutrality Patrol they did not request active American intervention

But the Miskit king had, and by dint of international agreements he was at the very least autonomous, and probably an independent vassal, of....well, of whoever ruled in Managua. It had fallen to Admiral David Farragut, Old Iron Pants himself, to make sense of this state of affairs, and to arrange a policy that covered all eventualities, and would emerge in the American interest whatever happened

Thus, as his flagship, the ironclad frigate USS President lay at anchor off the Isla de Providencia, Farragut sat at his desk running through a number of documents, refamiliarising himself with their contents as he awaited his guests. They were late

Commodore Semmes had good reason for his lateness, but he offered no excuses and when the cutter from the Lafayette finally pulled alongside the fleet flagship as dusk fell, he made no mention of engine trouble, nor of the three men who had lost their lives on the corvette Oregon when its boilers had burst. He simply reported for duty, and ushered Brady and Walker into the great man's presence

Old Iron Pants seemed content with things, waving the three men into seats as they followed him into his quarters. He himself took a moment to collect a few things, maps and the like, then sat back behind his desk,
"Commodore", he nodded at Semmes, "Captains... We are embarked upon a great enterprise"

And in the hours that followed he proceeded to lay out the secret orders he had received from Washington at the beginning of the crisis

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Seventy-six... Emperor Wilhelm of Germany stood upon the balcony of his rural retreat and pondered upon the vagaries of Fate. He was seventy-six, a good age in anyone's books, but yet still hale and healthy he could certainly look forward to more years upon the throne, the exact number unknown for at his age, he knew, a sudden illness, a sudden collapse, could see one go from perfect health to imminent death in a matter of months. But it had not happened yet, and he had no reason to fear its immediate descent. Perhaps three, four more years ? He could be happy with that.

But Fate had not granted him a son, and whilst he would never exchange the love and devotion of his wife, it had also not granted him opportunity to remarry. Empress Charlotte was increasingly unwell, but it was too late now. Even if granted his own seraglio he doubted he could consumate a union. No, it would go back to the Electors, and Germany's fate would once more diverge

But he loved his daughter so. Louise Wilhelmine was now in her late forties, married to the 3rd Duke of Gloucester, that branch of the Hannoverian family closest to the throne of Great Britain with King George V married to he duke's sister. Louise was a contented mother, as much a Briton as a German, but he could not deny her that right, for was not his own wife a Dane by birth, a princess of Hesse by marriage, but a German Empress by Fate ?

Hell, but that Danish connection had given him hours of worry these last few weeks, but surely, he now reasoned, it had all been needless. Charlotte was as German as he after fifty-plus years of marriage. Whatever allegiance to Denmark she may have had, had surely gone with her father's death, her brother's death, and now her nephew was dead, Frederick VII last of his line...

Winter was falling upon the land, but politics marched on unaffected. King Christian IX was claiming Schleswig and Holstein for the Danish crown, for all that he was but a distant cousin of Frederick VII, for all that his branch of the dynasty had another before it in claim to those duchies. The Diet at Frankfurt was more than animated by the whole thing, though as yet there was no concorde; whether to back the independent claimant, or to forward an imperial claim, or to look for some amalgam of the two.

But Copenhagen's way was not an option, and either the new king would be made to realise that or... Once more Emperor Wilhelm found himself contemplating war

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
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