“Sir, you said there was a second reason for involving me? May I ask what it was?”
“Simple. I want you out of the United States. You think we're all totally stupid here and not aware that you've been bribing congressmen to support France. I've got a number of them willing to testify to that in a hearing that would be embarrassing to both you and France. You would have to be expelled, and that would result in one of those ridiculous tit for tats where we throw you out, and your government throws one of our people out of our embassy in Paris. No: you just go back to France and stay there like a good boy.”
Henri D'Estaing reeled. Like a good boy? He was being chastised as if he were a child. Yet, like a child, he was helpless. He had diplomatic immunity and was safe from real prosecution, but both he and France could be horribly embarrassed if his actions were made public.
“How long do I have?” he asked plaintively.
Seward shrugged. “Take a couple of weeks, but no more.” The meeting was over. Henri departed Seward's office and was ushered out into the sunlight. He staggered as if he had been punched and several passersby stared at him, wondering if he was ill or drunk. He gathered himself. He would talk to Valerie. She would know what to do.
But then it occurred to him that everything was going to be all right. He would be out of this pigsty of a provincial burg and back in Paris, the city of enchantment. Better, he had a message intended for the ears of Napoleon III alone. However unsatisfactory the message might be, he would be able to speak directly to his emperor. He would also be able to couch the message in words that would be favorable to himself and show Napoleon that Seward was little more than a barbarian. Valerie would be surprised but not displeased.
For Lord Palmerston, the Royal Navy's attack on New York had been as much of a surprise as it had been for the Americans. On hearing of it, he had wondered whether he would have forbidden it had he been forewarned. But he had not been, nor had he expected to be. Even with the miracle of the transatlantic cable, he could not permit himself to manage the military campaign he had put in the hands of his admirals and generals. Nor did he expect them to have informed him of everything. Other than wasting his time by involving him needlessly in the minutiae of campaigning, there was the danger of the loss of security.
On the good side, the overwhelming victory at New York had wiped away much of the stain of the defeat at the hands of theMonitor and the resultant sinking of theGorgon andAsp. Newspaper headlines had been gleeful, and articles had gone so far as to speculate that theMonitor herself had been sunk, although there was no confirmation of that. On reflection, Palmerston and his military advisers deemed it unlikely.
What was to be regretted was that the attack seemed to have galvanized the Union and may have caused them to discover Canada.
Intelligence from the United States came from several sources and usually very slowly. There were spies and British sympathizers, but they had to first find the information and then somehow get it to Canada. While there were a few pro-British sources in Washington, there were damned few out in the field where it counted. Sources in Washington had picked up on the rumor that a Union army would invade Canada, but there was no real information as to when, where, and in what strength.
Newspaper reports from Ohio and Indiana reached Canada many days after they were published, if they made it at all, and what generally got to Canada was fragmentary. What they did report, however, confirmed the fact that the Union was up to something and that Canada was the target.
General Ulysses Grant, the victor at Fort Henry, Fort Donelson, and, most recently, the bloodbath at Shiloh, had been moving his army northward. Just how large his army was and where it was headed was not known. Estimates indicated that Grant's army numbered at least thirty thousand men, which made it a serious threat to Canada.
“A report from the city of Cleveland says that trainloads of Union soldiers are arriving,” said Foreign Secretary Lord Russell. Palmerston was puzzled. He had never heard of Cleveland. “Where and what might that be?”
“Cleveland is a small city in the state of Ohio on the shore of Lake Erie. It is a new town founded around eighteen hundred and is named after a surveyor named Cleveland, although he may have spelled it differently. It has recently become an industrial city of some note with a specialty in making locomotives.”
“Enchanting,” said Palmerston while Russell grinned, “and thank you for the tour. All I really need to know is whether an American army can depart from this Cleveland to Canada.”
“Possible, but not likely,” Russell answered, still smiling. There was a map on the wall that would have told the prime minister precisely that had he bothered to look. “While it is directly across Lake Erie from Canada, there are no landing points, and such an endeavor would require both substantial shipping and a naval presence to protect it, even from the handful of ships we have on the lake. No, I am assured that Cleveland is simply a waypoint on a greater journey.”
“Then to where?”
“I have had discussions with our generals and they are of the opinion that Grant will move towards Buffalo and, from there, across the Niagara peninsula, and then move northerly towards Toronto. With his rear covered, he would then be able to move along the St. Lawrence and towards the ocean, which would imperil Ottawa and Montreal.”
“And our generals feel that this is what Grant will do?”
“Nobody knows with certainty, Prime Minister, what someone will do until they do it. However, they feel that this course of action fits Grant's persona.” It was Palmerston's turn to laugh. “We know enough about him to discern his persona? A few months ago we weren't aware he even existed.”
Lord Russell had the nagging feeling that Great Britain might have always been better off if they hadn't heard of Ulysses Grant, but said nothing. Why add to his friend the prime ministers problems?
“From what little we do know of him,” Russell said, “he is a street fighter who goes for the jugular. There will be nothing fancy about his efforts.”
“And he is a drunk, isn't he?” Palmerston added hopefully.
“There is that rumor.”
“Then what have our generals decided?”
“Lord Cardigan already has about ten thousand men facing the United States at the Niagara peninsula. These troops are well fortified and dug in. They will be reinforced from the bulk of the army in Canada, which is currently at Toronto. It will shift westward and south to meet a threat from American Niagara and Buffalo. Not surprisingly, Cardigan has already asked for more troops. He has about twenty thousand regulars and an almost equal number of Canadian militia, which he says are totally useless.”
Palmerston walked to the large map on the wall and examined it. He quickly found Cleveland and dismissed it as anything more than what his generals said. It would be a place through which Grant's army would pass, and not launch itself at Canada.
It seemed apparent that any American attack would indeed be up the Niagara peninsula. It made no sense for the Americans to go farther eastward and toward the ocean while remaining on the south side of the St. Lawrence. British warships were present in sufficient strength to prevent any attack from that quarter. Thus, Grant and his army had to go through the Niagara peninsula.
It was also apparent that Lord Cardigan's regular army would indeed be outnumbered. Even with the strongest of forts protecting him. Cardigan would run the risk of being overwhelmed by a larger Union force, which was what Palmerston had feared since the beginning of Britain's involvement in the American Civil War. Palmerston siiently damned Cardigan for being so quarrelsome that he'd managed to offend many of the Canadians who were pro-British. He would like to have had someone else in command, but no one else had wanted the job.
This was not a new situation. Throughout England's stormy relationship with first the American colonies and now the United States, her better-qualified army and naval officers wanted no part of a war with their North American cousins. This had forced England to go with second- and third-rate commanders. In the American Revolution it had been Gage, Clinton, and Burgoyne. In what the Americans called the War of 1812, the Duke of Wellington, fresh from his victory over the first Napoleon at Waterloo, had simply declined. Palmerston wondered if the Iron Duke, now in his grave for a decade, would have declined this war as well. Probably, he decided.
At any rate, England was stuck with Cardigan in command in Canada.
“We must get him more troops, but from where?” asked Palmerston. He had hoped that the Royal Navy's dominance at sea and the Confederacy's abilities on land would have made the Union see reason. It would not be
