“Let’s have them, I say. One’s good as another. But I am to bed, Nico. It has been quite a day.”
“It certainly has.”
But not quite over yet. Gideon Welles was waiting in the president’s office, stroking his great fluffy beard as he looked out of the window. He turned when Lincoln came in. “A day that will live forever in history.” Being a former journalist, he sometimes spoke in newspaper headlines.
“It certainly will. It has been a long time since the British have been so thoroughly beaten.”
“It is the first time, I do believe. England was last invaded in 1066. Since then she has not been invaded and has fought a good number of wars. She gobbled up Wales, Cornwall, Scotland and Ireland and became Great Britain. Not satisfied with that she has plundered her way right around the world and in doing so has founded the British Empire. I fear for our navy, Mr. President.”
“As Secretary you should. But is there anything in particular that troubles you?”
“Peacetime bothers me. We have just laid the keels of eight more iron ships. Will there be the money available to build them?”
“There must be. We will tread softly in this world — but we will not go unarmed. A strong navy and a strong army will assure our safety.”
“People will complain about taxes and Congress will listen to them.”
“Congress will listen to me as well. No one in the Cabinet is in any doubt about our economic needs for the future, that Mr. Mill has pointed out.”
“There are distant rumbles of discontent.”
“As long as they stay that way, why fine. But none shall stay the course of the mighty battleship America as she sails into her successful future. Those that man her must speak with one voice, seek one goal.”
“They must sail with a fair breeze — or jump overboard.”
“Precisely. There have been Cabinet changes in the past — ” Lincoln turned to address his Secretary of War, who was just now entering the office, “you will not forget your predecessor Simon Cameron.”
Stanton laughed. “Nor will I forget his fate — ambassador to Russia.”
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“A well deserved fate as you know, since you had to clean up the mess he made of the navy. But let us leave these matters for the morn — and enjoy this night of victory. When the Cabinet meets tomorrow it will be time enough to discuss our peacetime future.”
DAY OF VICTORY
The warship Avenger arrived just two days before General Sherman. She made landfall on the Nova Scotia coast at Cape Sable, then steamed north. Her arrival at the seaport of Halifax caused instant alarm. The two British frigates in the port raised steam and headed out to sea as soon as the American warship was identified. If there had been some wind they might have escaped, using a combination of screw and sail. But it was a still, cold December day and their sails hung in limp festoons. The newly-built Avenger had engines that were far superior to theirs. Once again iron mastered wood and the Chatelain was battered and wrecked after a single barrage from the warship’s two turrets. The master of the British frigate did not strike his colors even though nothing could be gained by fighting on. Avenger did not bother to ask the frigate to strike and disdained further battle to go in pursuit of her sister ship. The captain of the Courageous was more prudent, or practical, or simply realized that nothing could be gained in unequal battle. He struck as soon as the first shots had been fired. A boarding party was sent to her and took command, bringing the frigate back into the port she had so recently fled. Avenger looked on, guns ready, as the captured ship hove to, then threw a line to the battered Chatelain and took her under tow. Following orders the Courageous stopped her engines as soon as they had entered the outer harbor, then dropped anchor there. Avenger passed them and moved slowly toward the shore. As soon as she was within range the batteries of the harbor defenses opened fire.
Cannonballs threw up columns of water in the sea around the American ironclad — and bounced off of her eight-inch-thick armor. Seemingly indifferent to the attack the Avenger did not return the fire of the batteries as she patrolled the waterfront. Nor did she fire on the merchantmen and transports tied up there. Instead she moved to the center of the harbor where she dropped anchor and came to rest.
The nearest gun battery at the harbor mouth fired again. This time there was a response. The 400-pound shells from a single turret blew the battery into a jagged ruin in an instant. No other batteries fired.
“What the blazes is that thing doing?” the Duke of Cambridge asked. No one volunteered an answer. He stood on the balcony of his headquarters in Government House, wrapped in furs to ward off the bitter chill. He had only arrived a few days previously to take charge of the American operation. Urged to do so by his cousin, the Queen. The presence of the Commander-in-Chief of the British Army may have helped morale and rallied the troops some; it had had no apparent effect upon the operation of the war.
All the news was bad.
“First that disastrous adventure in the American South. Naval defeat in the Potomac. General Champion killed in battle. Our West Indies bases taken — Quebec fallen. And now this. You, Clive, you’re supposed to be the brainy one. Can you explain it?”
Brigadier Clive Somerville hesitated. The answer seemed obvious enough.
“Go on, then,” the Duke urged.
“Well, Sir — I imagine that warship is the cork in the bottle. The Yankee ironclads were reported in the St. Lawrence heading for the sea the last we heard.”
“The ice will stop them.”
“Not hard enough or thick enough yet to stop a steam powered iron ship. And I am sure that the enemy troops are marching close behind them.”
“Cork in the bottle, you say?”