Harry Harrison: Stars and Stripes Forever

“I am General William Tecumseh Sherman, Commander-in-Chief of the United States Combined Forces. I understand that you are the Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army.”

The chill air had damped some of the Duke’s bellicosity. He nodded abruptly.

“Good. The only course open to you is unconditional surrender. You will be relieved of all your guns, weapons and arms. If you do that you have my word that all of your men and officers will be allowed to board the transports and will be allowed to return to England. You and your staff will not go. You will accompany me to Washington for discussions with the American government about war reparations. There will be payments in gold as partial recompense for the destruction you caused to American cities, as well as the unwarranted deaths of her citizens.”

“I’ll see you in hell first!”

“No you will not.” Sherman barely controlled his fury, his transparent eyes cold as death. “You brought this war to our shores and will pay the price for that audacious act. Your forces in the field are destroyed or captured, your naval bases taken. The war is over.”

The Duke was now blazing with fury. “The war will never be over as far as I am concerned. Hear me you contemptible Yankee upstart — you are not taking on some pipsqueak little country. You have offended the greatest country in the world and the greatest Empire. You do that at your peril.”

“Our peril? Has it not been drawn to your attention that you have lost this war? As you have lost here on this continent before. If you are any student of history you will know that America was once a British colony. You were forcefully ejected from our shores. You forgot that lesson in 1812. And now you have forgotten it yet again. We fought the Revolutionary War under many different flags and banners. Now we have but one for we are united as we never have been before. But I must remind you of one of our revolutionary battle flags. It depicted a snake with the legend ‘Don’t Tread on Me’. Remember that for the future. You have tread and you have been defeated. To save America we have taken up arms against invasion and hurled you back.

“To save America we will do the same again, whenever we are threatened.”

General Sherman stepped aside until he was facing the other three officers.

“You have an hour to decide. One hour. Then the bombardment begins. There will be no more discussion of this matter. Your surrender is unconditional.”

He started to turn away, then swung back. There was no warmth in his smile or his words.

“I personally prefer the second way. For the sake of my country I would happily blow you all away, every ship, every soldier, every officer, then blow away your Politicians and your Queen.

“The choice, gentlemen, is yours.”

The snow grew heavier, the day darker, the wind more chill as the American officers returned to their ship and the British officers were left in silence.

The Duke of Cambridge had stayed in his cabin ever since the Cunard steamer had departed from Washington City. Stayed below in the stuffy fug, looking unseeingly at the shadows thrown by the paraffin light rocking in its gimbals. Only when the swaying of the lamp became more regular, the movement of the ship rolling steadily from side to side, did he grow conscious of his surroundings. This was the motion of the great Atlantic rollers; they must be out of the river now and standing out to sea. He rose, tightened his collar and put on his jacket, went up on deck.

The air was warm and salty, a June day to relish. Brigadier Somerville was standing at the rail; he turned and saluted when the Duke came up to him. They leaned on the wooden rail and looked in silence at the American coastline vanishing behind them. The Duke turned away and grimaced, preferring instead to look at the sails and the laboring sailors rather than the shores of the United States.

“Let the political johnnies take over,” he said. “I have done my bit. It has been jaw-jaw for far too long now.”

“You have indeed done your bit, Your Grace. You extracted terms far better than those originally proposed.”

“Like extracting teeth at times — and just as painful. But don’t diminuate your contribution, Somerville. I faced them across the conference table. But it was your words and your arguments that carried the day.”

“Happy to be of service, sir,” he said, bowing slightly and changing the subject. The ruling classes of Britain looked down upon the brainy ones and thought little of a man who flaunted his intelligence. “The armies are safely home, prisoners soon to be released, a messy affair there at an end. As you said, the politicians can cross the T’s and dot the I’s. The entire matter is well ended.”

“Is it?” The Duke hawked deeply and spat into the ocean. “Speaking from a military point of view it was a disaster. Our invading armies thrown back. Disaster at sea. Canada all but lost to us — ”

“The English in Canada are loyal. They will not join the French in this new republic.”

“They will be hard-pressed not to. And if they go — what do we have left then on this continent? The frozen colony of Newfoundland, that is what. Not what one would call an overwhelming presence in the New World.”

“But we have peace — is that not enough?”

“Peace? We have been at war ever since my cousin first mounted the throne. Queen Victoria’s little wars, I have heard them called. Wars of necessity as the British Empire expanded around the world. We have won them all. Lost a battle here and there — but never a war. And now this. It leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth.”

“We should treasure the peace — ”

“Should we?” The Duke of Cambridge rounded on Somerville, his jaw tight with anger. “If you believe that, well then, sir, you are in a damned minority, sir. The American newspapers crow about their great victory and the people strut about like cocks on a dungheap. While at home there is a continuous growl of resentment that will not cease. Yes, this armistice and this sordid peace were forced upon us. But this does not mean that we have lost the greater battle of Great Britain’s place in this world. Our country is intact, our empire fertile and flourishing. We have been insulted, all of us — insulted!”

“But there is nothing that can be done now. The war is over, the soldiers returned, the reparations to be paid…”

“It is never over — not while the stigma of defeat is upon us. Keels of ironclad warships are being laid even as we speak. In Woolwich the forges glare as guns and other weapons are produced. And our people are not happy, not happy indeed.”

Brigadier Somerville spoke quietly, tonelessly, attempting not to state his own position in this matter. “Then what do you suggest, sir? We will rearm, that is being done now as you say. Armies can be raised, armed and made ready. But then what? There is no cause to start another war.”

“No cause? You have witnessed our humiliation. Something must be done. What — I don’t know. But we shall confer upon this, yes we shall. That pipsqueak general, what was his name? Sherman. Had the bloody nerve to threaten a peer of the realm. Bloody snake and don’t tread on me and all of that. Well I have tread on many a snake and feel no fear in doing so again.”

The Duke turned and looked back at America now vanished in the hazy horizon. He felt the blood rise to suffuse his face as he remembered the defeats and the humiliations. It was more than one could possibly bear. His anger bubbled over and he shook his fist in the direction of that vile country.

“Something can be done — something will be done. This matter is not over yet. That I promise with all my soul and body. This is not the end.”