Wrapped in Flames: The Great American War and Beyond

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The Gunslinger

@EnglishCanuck
Barry Gough has a few solid books about the British and the west coast of North America, they had a very good idea of what was going on with the natives.
Gunboat Frontier: British Maritime Authority and Northwest Coast Indians, 1846-1890 is the one I'm most familiar with though.
 
EnglishCanuck

EnglishCanuck

The Gunslinger said:
@EnglishCanuck
Barry Gough has a few solid books about the British and the west coast of North America, they had a very good idea of what was going on with the natives.
Gunboat Frontier: British Maritime Authority and Northwest Coast Indians, 1846-1890 is the one I'm most familiar with though.
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I'll definitely have to look into those. Thank you for the recommend!
 

Tamar of the Tamar tribe

The people who hate slavery are going to hate the British!! I think some artists, writters and poets will make things hard for the British!!! Maybe ten years after the war, the British public will be asking why they helped save slaverly!!!
 
EnglishCanuck

EnglishCanuck

Tamar of the Tamar tribe said:
The people who hate slavery are going to hate the British!! I think some artists, writters and poets will make things hard for the British!!! Maybe ten years after the war, the British public will be asking why they helped save slaverly!!!
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Ah yes, the New Men who I've briefly discussed will definitely have that in mind. The fictional Arthur Chambers, and real men like Theodore Roosevelt, Henry Adams, and Olin Dunbar Wheeler will all have their own harsh words and policies to add to the fray of words which will erupt both immediately and later in the aftermath of the war. They will try to ensure British perfidy is not forgotten!

Then again, Canadians like George Denison III, Charles Mair and Goldwin Smith will be active in their own telling of 'The War of 1862' and how it effected them and what they think it was really about.

Meanwhile however, men like The Duke of Argyll, or John Bright and Samuel Bowly will still be able to have meaningful conversations with men like Charles Sumner, Thaddeus Stevens or Frederick Douglas.

There's a confusing number of lenses to view the war through. From the Anglo-Canadian perspective it is very much about defending themselves from what they understand as American aggression. From the Northern perspective it is definitely perfidious Albion meddling in American affairs again! From the Southern perspective it is a much needed British power propping them up as they need them. This is all still TTL circa 1863 of course. As we get closer to 1864 and beyond well, views might change a bit.
 

The Gunslinger

Canada has now been invaded twice by the United States in fifty years, there's going to be a massive feeling of antipathy to the United States for many decades. This has all but confirmed what most of the Upper Canadian establishment has been talking about since the colony's inception.
 
EnglishCanuck

EnglishCanuck

The Gunslinger said:
Canada has now been invaded twice by the United States in fifty years, there's going to be a massive feeling of antipathy to the United States for many decades. This has all but confirmed what most of the Upper Canadian establishment has been talking about since the colony's inception.
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And more embarrassingly the Bishop John Strachan has had to surrender the city of Toronto twice in his lifetime. Though in a similar vein, I've concentrated on Denison and the York Brigade of the Canadian militia because it will feature pretty heavily in the post-war, it's members having a certain amount of clout that the government in Quebec/Ottawa will be unable to ignore. The Canadian Rifle Association and the Volunteer Rifles Association will feature pretty heavily in post-war politics.

John A. is going to have some interesting opponents in the post-war, pre-Confederation period.
 

Ironshark

okay just finshed reading the entire thing and i can't be the only one hoping american grant fights british grant right?
yes it's silly but come on
 

Ficboy

Banned
So what does Anglo-American relations look like in Wrapped in Flames? I doubt it will be like Turtledove since Britain is a trading partner of both America (grain/wheat, corn and industry) and the Confederacy/Dixie (cotton and shipbuilding) plus given what we saw in the Revolutionary War between 1775-1783 and the War of 1812 between 1812-1815 tensions will go down a bit and the relationship will be neutral towards one another. As for American-Confederate relations, the two nations will be very hostile to one another from the beginning since they fought a huge conflict with each other but they might not always fight and if they do it's going to be more indirect such as proxy wars.

What does World War I look like in this universe, assuming everything is unaltered by the timeline.
 

Ironshark

[/QUOTE]
EnglishCanuck said:
Oh that would make reading this so awkward :coldsweat: I have trouble with Johnston and Johston!
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this time it's the same name which would make it eaiser somehow .sir grant for the British one and then general grant for the american.ect"sir Grant took the descion to refuse the right flank general grant saw this coming and ordered a switch to the left"

but it's mostly for the memes i want that to happen.


Ficboy said:
So what does Anglo-American relations look like in Wrapped in Flames? I doubt it will be like Turtledove since Britain is a trading partner of both America (grain/wheat, corn and industry) and the Confederacy/Dixie (cotton and shipbuilding) plus given what we saw in the Revolutionary War between 1775-1783 and the War of 1812 between 1812-1815 tensions will go down a bit and the relationship will be neutral towards one another
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two wars in living memories might change that. i am imagining it will be a bit like mexico and the US .messing in each other affairs and maybe even a few armed confilcts but by WW2 begones will be begones.
this timeline is more realistic so i don't think there will be generations of fighting each other .
maybe the British eventully grow to regret tje CSA and help america finish it off in WW1.
the fact that this war is called the third anglo American in the future and that canada is impiled to be thriving in the future is probably a clue towards good relations coming around eventully .
 

The Gunslinger

EnglishCanuck said:
And more embarrassingly the Bishop John Strachan has had to surrender the city of Toronto twice in his lifetime. Though in a similar vein, I've concentrated on Denison and the York Brigade of the Canadian militia because it will feature pretty heavily in the post-war, it's members having a certain amount of clout that the government in Quebec/Ottawa will be unable to ignore. The Canadian Rifle Association and the Volunteer Rifles Association will feature pretty heavily in post-war politics.

John A. is going to have some interesting opponents in the post-war, pre-Confederation period.
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I think Canada is going to have to take a long and hard look at the militia system versus a proper professional army when all this is done.
 
EnglishCanuck

EnglishCanuck

Ficboy said:
So what does Anglo-American relations look like in Wrapped in Flames? I doubt it will be like Turtledove since Britain is a trading partner of both America (grain/wheat, corn and industry) and the Confederacy/Dixie (cotton and shipbuilding) plus given what we saw in the Revolutionary War between 1775-1783 and the War of 1812 between 1812-1815 tensions will go down a bit and the relationship will be neutral towards one another. As for American-Confederate relations, the two nations will be very hostile to one another from the beginning since they fought a huge conflict with each other but they might not always fight and if they do it's going to be more indirect such as proxy wars.
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Currently relations look like war. But in the post-war world I do want to directly avoid the Turtledove cliche of Britain and America at odds and always at one another's throats. They did, after all, enjoy an enormously profitable trading relationship. US trade with Britain (and British possessions) was close to 60% of it's total trade network in the 1860s OTL, and the loss of that is pretty staggering. The post-war environment will see them running to get those networks back up, but at a bit of cost to themselves. For instance, British railroad securities in London have, for obvious reasons, tanked on the market, and British investors will probably be a bit queasy going into the next decade on picking up Union rail bonds again, which will probably retard rail building plans in the US for a bit. There's going to be bad blood between Washington and London, make no mistake, and you can guarantee it will last at least to the turn of the century.

I won't speculate on any American-Confederate relations though...

Ficboy said:
What does World War I look like in this universe, assuming everything is unaltered by the timeline.
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A Great War analogue isn't set in stone for this universe, but some toss up between the Great Powers is, probably by the 1870s TTL, going to be sort of inevitable in the future because certain things just won't be butterflied that much. Like I said in the opening, the 1860s hammered out lots of nations and ideologies on the anvil of war, and so far we're seeing that in Canada and the United States, but there's events in Mexico I've touched on, and events in China, South America, Europe and Asia and Africa yet to come!

Ironshark said:
this time it's the same name which would make it eaiser somehow .sir grant for the British one and then general grant for the american.ect"sir Grant took the descion to refuse the right flank general grant saw this coming and ordered a switch to the left"

but it's mostly for the memes i want that to happen.
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True, it would probably be easier. Though I'm afraid Grant is currently too deep on the Mississippi to likely make it to Canada in 1863! I don't think he has high odds of making it there anyways.

There's a few reasons I decided to not have him or Sherman show up north of the border, one of the reasons being that when war broke out in 1862 the man who seems preordained to be assigned there is Henry Halleck, and Halleck had, at a time, a mistrust and misliking of Grant. Historically after Forts Henry and Donelson he effectively tried to demote Grant and place his old mentor Charles Smith over him, and with Halleck designated to command the Department of the Lakes, I figured similar would happen TTL where Smith is charged with leading the invasion of Canada West and Sumner is charged with Canada East, Halleck overseeing it all from headquarters in Albany. Also, it might seem too cliche to have Grant just change direction when I wanted to bring other characters to the forefront of this alternate war!

Ironshark said:
two wars in living memories might change that. i am imagining it will be a bit like mexico and the US .messing in each other affairs and maybe even a few armed confilcts but by WW2 begones will be begones.
this timeline is more realistic so i don't think there will be generations of fighting each other .
maybe the British eventully grow to regret tje CSA and help america finish it off in WW1.
the fact that this war is called the third anglo American in the future and that canada is impiled to be thriving in the future is probably a clue towards good relations coming around eventully .
Click to expand...

Yes three conflicts in less than 100 years is bound to...sour relations between the two countries. Certainly no one in Washington is likely to trust Perfidious Albion until the turn of the century, and even then...

Let's just say that relations will be bad for a while!
 
EnglishCanuck

EnglishCanuck

The Gunslinger said:
I think Canada is going to have to take a long and hard look at the militia system versus a proper professional army when all this is done.
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Oh there's going to be some considerations. The problem is a very ardent anti-militarist sits on the governing helm which may cause some problems...

However, Britain also will now have reasons to keep a larger garrison in Canada for a while longer at the very least. I actually have the regiments and troop numbers for post-war Canada mapped out!
 
Chapter 67: Guns of June
  • Index
    • EnglishCanuck

    EnglishCanuck

    Chapter 67: Guns of June​

    Bladensburgh, Maryland, June 15th 1863

    The occasional crack of rifle fire and the continuous dull thump of artillery echoed all around the position. The scream of shells and thunder of explosions was evident all along the line despite the day. It occasionally disturbed the waters of the Anacostia River which flowed into the Eastern Branch of the Potomac. That stretch of water too, marked the dividing line between the Confederate siege lines and those of the defending Union Army of the Potomac. In the last two weeks thousands of men had been waiting for a crossing of that line, and today they just might see it.

    Robert E. Lee reached down and pat Traveller’s neck as he watched the men of Holme’s division form up behind their own entrenchments. Nearby another of the big guns, a gift of war from General McClellan after the Battle of the Rappahannock last year, gave another loud belch of fire and smoke sending shot hurtling into the Federal works across the water. From the corner of his eye he saw Armistead Long, his chief military secretary, casting an approving look toward the gun.

    “Something interesting about that gun Armistead?” Lee asked. The man blinked that his commander would notice and turned back to the lines.

    “Nothing quite so special sir. Merely admiring our luck at having them. General Pendleton has been very put out we don’t have a proper siege train. It’s only that one battery of heavy Armstrong guns purchased last year.”

    Internally Lee sighed, externally he nodded. “Yes, the lack of heavy guns is indeed an impediment, but with our navy and the Royal Navy in the Chesapeake, what can Washington do but tremble before our encirclement?” He saw the remainder of his staff smiling at the remark. It was good for a general to give his men confidence.

    Armistead nodded. “Quite so sir, and God willing we make them tremble today.” One of his aides, Lt. Peterkin, a severely devout Episcopalian, nodded fervently at that. He believed God was on their side in this fight.

    “We have driven those people back to their entrenchments. They have been bombarded for weeks now, and I mean to test their resolve today gentlemen. Perhaps end this siege once and for all.”

    Lee looked again past the clouds of gunsmoke to where the lines of men, all seventy-five hundred of them, were arraying for the assault. They would be the first wave to crash upon the weaker Federal lines here. Lee had determined the position the week prior. Observing the Federal lines since he had arrived a few weeks ago, he felt that this was the weakest portion. The least covered by water, and with the fewest fortifications facing them. They had not really expected an attack from Annapolis. Maybe one in the direction of Alexandria and perhaps one from the north, but the planners had not nearly been as vigilant as they might have been.

    That did not mean they were slovenly in their duties though. Concealed now through the smoke were zigzagging lines of entrenchments, covered by batteries and the guns of Fort Lincoln, Fort Thayer, and Fort Bunker Hill. Those were the strongholds his own guns sought to silence. However, they were spaced far apart, and Fort Lincoln was a lone bastion covering the rail lines from the city. If they fell though, the way to Washington was open, and of course, so was the surrender of the city.

    Even if his face didn’t show it, Lee was tense. The battle flags of the regiments and divisions formed up, men gathering in lines as neat as could be in the trenches. Shouted orders from the officers and quiet commands which somehow filtered over the cannonade. It was hoped the Union men would not hear, and certainly Longstreet and Jackson’s diversionary assaults to the north and west would draw off McClellan’s attention. If all went well he would have no reserve to plug the gap Holmes would create, and his men could stream through into the city, taking the capital and compelling the surrender of the Army of the Potomac.

    Well, not truly the capital. Lee thought ruefully. The newspapers said that President Lincoln and his government had all fled north when the British naval assault on Baltimore had begun. There were rumours too that the city had almost rose in rebellion learning his army was close, but no one could substantiate that. They already had the state capital of Maryland in hand, if they could take the de-facto national capital, and the greatest army assembled by the Federal government, the war would end. Lincoln’s presence was of no consequence.

    He sketched out the armies in his mind as he waited. Up north the British were threatening Albany, while his old war friend Albert Sidney Johnston sat similarly besieged, though not nearly so completely, at Corinth. The Federals also maintained an ineffective presence along in Mississippi along that great river with their army menacing Grenada. He knew the Union was stretched thin, so no relief army could be forthcoming without giving up their gains or positions elsewhere. All in all, he felt firm in his assessment that it was merely a matter of time and mathematics for the city to fall. They had no supply line, and no matter how great the warehouses and depots in the city, they could not sustain ninety-thousand men and whatever civilians remained indefinitely.

    That didn’t mean he might not hurry along their surrender however.

    Checking his pocket watch, he saw it was nearly eleven o’clock. Almost time. He beckoned to an aide.

    “You will informed General Whiting he may begin at his leisure.” The man saluted and rode off through the noise to the generals headquarters in the town. Whiting knew his orders, would probably resent Lee sending that missive, but Lee needed to be sure the men knew he was watching. It would give them heart, knowing their general, who had led them out of Virginia, smashed the Federal army and brought them to the gates of Washington, was with them.

    “The smoke is going to be horrendous.” Long muttered, probably assuming Lee couldn’t hear him. Lee chose to ignore the statement of the obvious and instead concentrated his field glasses forward. With a startling finality the guns on the Confederate lines ceased firing, though the Federal artillery still made a few shots back. The world felt still for a moment, and then the order sounded from and seventy-five hundred men leapt from their trenches and marched towards the Federal lines.

    A familiar apprehension leapt into Lee’s heart, his stomach tightening as he watched the men go forward. The flags flew proudly, the marching tramp of boots could be heard even here, and he watched as the fine grey uniforms went relentlessly forward. For a few moments, there was nothing but the occasional boom of a Federal gun, the steady tramp of Confederate feet in British boots, and the barks of officers.

    As the men in grey pressed closer though, he saw the eruption of fire and smoke from the tops of the Federal breastworks and a cloud of fog seemed to sweep out from them, reaching with fiery fingers to law waste to the ranks of men. The guns finally began to reorient themselves to face the oncoming rush of Southern soldiery. They added their own fire to the new din and smoke was covering the scene. Lee strained to hear through the fire, but all that could be heard was the guns, and screams which could have been orders, fury or pain.

    “General.” Loring said, he indicated over his shoulder to where another group of horsemen approached. Lee turned his head to see Whiting, his staff, and a color bearer, riding towards him. He bit off a flash of irritation. Of course the man would want to see what his commanding general was seeing. He was hovering over the Fourth Corps like a mammie over an infant.

    Whiting reigned in beside him and saluted. “General Lee sir, you honor us with your presence.”

    Lee returned the salute. “I merely came to observe the main thrust, General Whiting. There’s no need to accompany my sightseeing.”

    “Nevertheless sir, I should like to see what you see, hopefully we can see the same things.”

    Lee nodded as a messenger rode up and reigned in. He looked from Lee to Whiting for a moment as if unsure who to report to, then turned to the commander of the Fourth Corps.

    “General Hood sends his compliments sir! He reports all three brigades ready for action when requested!”

    Whiting nodded. “Very good, send my compliments to General Hood and have him keep his men in readiness. Once Holmes has made an impact on the Union line Hood must carry the breakthrough into the city.”

    Lee personally would have recommended Hood drive the assault and let Holmes have the support. Hood had done so well at Stafford Heights the year previous, Lee didn’t think that he could find a more aggressive leader in the whole army. His mind briefly wandered to his old foe from that fight, General Mansfield. He hoped the General was comfortable in Richmond, having been cut off and compelled to surrender his command the week previous when he realized he was stuck in hostile territory. It had been a fine morale builder to put the Union I Corps in a barrel like that.

    He was brought from the pleasant image by the appearance of another courier. The man reigned in grinning and saluted. “General Longstreed sends his compliments to General Lee and informs him Early’s men have carried the attack. They have mounted their flags on the earthworks!”

    Lee’s eyebrows shot up. This was unexpected indeed. Jubal Early was a rising fighter that was certain. Quite the bad old man he could swear most persuasively, and he seemed quite popular with his troops. He’d been the rock that held the line at the Rappahannock last summer.

    Turning, Lee scanned the smoke for any sign that a similar banner rose above the Federal trenches. He scowled. This is taking too long. Have I been to clever and the Yankees seen through my work and weakened their lines elsewhere? It was an infuriating thought that his preparations might have been noticed and this was instead the strongest

    “General Whiting, I would advise you to dispatch Hood’s brigade now.” He turned to the messenger. “Send my compliments to General Longstreet and inform him that he will support General Early’s lodgement with all his strength.” The man nodded and rode off. Whiting was already giving orders to his own men so Lee called another courier over. “Ride to General Jackson and inform him to give as much aid as possible to General Longstreet, if this attack can succeed we may drive them from the earthworks.”

    Galloping off the courier moved with remarkable speed and Lee was satisfied. Speed would be essential. He dare not move from this spot now that the couriers could report where to find him. He breathed deeply and looked back towards the trenches, scanning desperately for some sign of Holme’s men on the top.

    Hood’s men were up over the trenches now. He saw them going forward and smiled. If anyone could drive this assault home, they could. It wasn’t long before they reached the lines and a familiar banshee like wail went up. The keening rebel yell had yet to kill anyone, but hopefully it would unnerve their opponent.

    Trickles of wounded men and stretcher parties were appearing now. Some walking wounded moving to the rear under their own strength, others supported by friends and comrades. That was a good sign, it showed the fight was still in earnest. Peering into the smokey haze ahead of the Confederate trenches, Lee could see occasional flashes through the blue gray fog. Snatches of action, men huddled at the base of an earthen embankment, ladders overhead. On others he saw men leaning over to shoot their attackers, some shooting back up, and line of smartly deployed infantry firing volleys over their fellows heads to keep the enemy down, and on one point, where the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad entered the city, he saw active fighting on the earthworks.

    His heart soared, but the scene was swallowed by another bank of gritty gunsmoke. Lee frowned and kept watch. Another courier rode up and reported Jackson faced stiff opposition, and Lee responded the men should keep pushing. An hour ticked by, and he saw a standard waving above the earthworks. It was the battleflag of the Army of North Virginia!

    “Look there William!” He said using Whiting’s Christian name “They have it! The banner flies on the earthworks!”

    His staff all immediately turned their gazes on the ground behind Fort Lincoln where the struggle was in earnest. They all cursed the smoke as well, but a wind finally showed the whole scene in its full glory. Men in gray were in evidence all across the earthen parapet, though a frightful number of bodies carpeted the ground in front of it, they seemed in earnest all along the line. A brigade was moving in support of them and Lee fervently hoped he could soon call the rest of Hood’s division to action.

    The guns on Fort Lincoln were sweeping the line with fire though, and Lee saw a shell burst amongst the advancing line of gray clad troops. They didn’t scatter though, and advanced at a run, seeking to bolster the breakthrough.

    “Order General Hood to send all available troops to the support of the line there!” Whiting shouted. Lee couldn’t have agreed more. Here was their chance!

    Another bloody hour continued the fray, and Lee scarcely looked away. As he watched, another flag appeared atop the earthworks, one on either side of the railroad bed, like banners proclaiming a new management to the line, opening a gateway to the city. More men in gray were advancing, stepping over the line. It was a hopeful sign that he saw smoke flying above the parapet now, fighting inside the Union works.

    Movement on his right turned his eye. A man in blue was climbing the parapet, he was carrying an enormous United States flag, and he drove it into the ground with force, and picked up the battle flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, and hurled it like a spear into the ranks of Confederate soldiers below. The man looked horrendously dirty, hands and face covered in black, like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. Another man with a rifle popped up beside him as he jumped down from his exposed position, and another. A flag soon waving behind them.

    “General Whiting, I confess, I do not recognize that flag there. Could you perhaps enlighten me?” A silence. “General?” Lee looked to where the general was staring at the fight, and he saw the man holding his field glasses with white knuckled fury. He took a breath.

    “That is the flag of Saxton’s Negroes sir.” Whiting hissed.

    Lee was shocked, and turned his gaze back to the parapets. Yes, now that he looked those men did look like negroes. Of course he had heard the reports of Annapolis Junction, even the news that there were Nego regiments out West in garrison. But actually fighting on the front lines? They must have been truly desperate.

    “Send the rest of Hood’s men! Destroy the enemy here!” They must be weak, he thought, elsewise why use substandard troops?

    As the hours ticked by, the fighting didn’t cease. The trickle of wounded became a steady flow. Still though, the negroes did not break. The assault was repelled once, begun again, repelled a second time, but even Hood’s men did not manage to retake the Federal earthworks. It was a grim slogging match as men pushed, shot, and bayoneted their way forwards and backwards. But no Southern battle flags flew over the Federal works again that day.

    Finally, as three o’clock neared, the men began a slow retreat. Lee looked on grimly. As evening wore on the reports became clear. Longstreet’s assault had been stopped by a division of reinforcements sent to keep Early out, and Jackson had made no headway against the fortifications at all. The Battle of Fort Lincoln was over, but the Siege of Washington continued.


    Rogers House, Essex County, New York, June 27th 1863

    The sun was high and murderously warm. In the not too far distance Wolseley could hear the grumble and thunder of the siege train. The American lines around Fort Ticonderoga were damnably resilient. It had been a weeks hard skirmishing and scrabbling in unpleasant terrain to even establish proper siege lines. Now though, the army artillery was doing its level best to blast the Yankees from their positions along the river. The mortar boats there were adding to the cacophony, but not as well as Wolseley would have liked. The remaining Yankee ironclads lurked like sharks above the boom, inviting the boats closer. He cast a frustrated glance in the direction of the Yankee lines and entered the headquarters of the Army of Canada.

    The Rogers House was a fine little building, good enough for the commanding general and his staff. The original occupants had all fled south, presumably towards safety lower in the state. The Field Marshal had made the kitchen his office, and he sat there now, drinking tea from a set he’d received as a gift from the Duke of Argyle for his work well done. There were reports, and a rough map of the current lines spread out in front of him. The Chief of Staff, Patrick MacDougall, stood beside him alongside some other staff members. Field Marshall, Viscount, Henry Dundas looked up as Wolseley entered.

    “Ah Colonel Wolseley, please come in. How are the lines today?” He said, offering tea.

    Wolseley accepted. “Much the same as yesterday I’m afraid, my lord.” Cradling the cup and saucer in hand, he sipped contently. It was quite good, imported directly from England, and something of a luxury on the front lines.

    Dundas grinned at him. “I was blisteringly unpopular in London society for some time you know. Now there’s members of Cabinet sending me tea and writing to thank me for a job well done.”

    “I’m sure the Cabinet is well aware of your efforts to win the war.”

    Dundas snorted. He was never shy about sharing his opinions. “I’m afraid Lord Cupid writes to demand news of my progress. They’re all afraid of another Sevastopol or Saratoga.” He gestured expansively out the window. “I ask you Colonel, does it seem the Yankees are liable to spring a trap on me sometime soon?”

    “I would confess no sir.”

    Wolseley frankly doubted the Yankees could do much more than hold their positions. Though they were devilishly well sited positions. The Army of the Hudson was dug in along the lake and La Chute Creek, using the old French works to bolster their new ones. Guns were emplaced in and around the town of Ticonderoga which in turn were supported by batteries on the aptly named Mount Defiance and Mount Independence. The Americans also had a strongpoint across the creek from Ticonderoga on a hill named Mount Hope, which the infantry had jokingly taken to calling Mount Forlorn Hope. Jokes aside, it was damnably difficult to crack, and an attack on the 18th had been repulsed with severe losses. If it fell though, the town might become untenable. The guns on Mount Defiance would be a harder nut to crack. Then across Lake Champlain the guns on Mount Independence provided a further headache.

    “Four and a half, miles of fortifications and probably over thirty-thousand Yankees manning them, and a damn mobile brigade on the far shore.” Dundas shook his head. “It’s a bloody ugly position to besiege.”

    “The Yankees use the ground quite well.” MacDougall observed. “According to our maps they have lines of retreat and communication further into the state. Even should we crack this position, they can withdraw.”

    “Ah but if they do withdraw MacDougall, they have nowhere left to stop us, and it’s on to Albany.” Dunsas said with a self satisfied smirk.

    “Even so sir, I don’t envy another hundred mile march. Especially away from the waterways.”

    Dundas waved a hand. “If the ground opens up away from this highland fastness I dare say we will be in Albany before the end of July. But we have to crack this nut first. I confess, I know little of the place.” He craned his head towards the window. Though you couldn’t see the old fort from here, you could see the town itself. There had been an abundance of trees when the army had first arrived at the start of the month, there were now remarkably fewer. It were as though a vast army of beavers had descended on the land. But instead of building dams they built earthworks, abatis, cleared fields of fire, and made pontoons and bridges.

    For all that work though, little had been accomplished.

    “Another week of pounding might do it sir.” MacDougall was saying.

    “I quite doubt it sir.” Wolseley interjected. Both men looked over. If the Field Marshall was cavalier in his opinion Wolseley would be in his. “When we invested Sevastopol we bombarded them for two years and finally at great cost made the Russians withdraw. We have thus far overcome all the American lines with superior firepower and that great spirit that British troops show. However, we have yet to face a line like this, dug in so firmly on the mountains. This will, I fear, be a long siege.”

    It was plain from his face that this was not the pronouncement Dundas wanted to hear. “What do you suggest then, Colonel?” He asked somewhat tersely.

    Wolseley realized this was one of the moments in a man’s career where he might make or break himself. His own tongue was sharp, but Dundas’s was remarkably sharper and he had the ear of London. If he angered the man too much or, God forbid, attempted to undermine him, he might never reach another staff position. Pondering his word choice carefully he readied himself.

    Reaching over Wolseley tapped one point with his finger. Mount Hope. “This point here, my lord, is the lynchpin to the American line. Without it the town falls and we may invest the earthworks from the flank on that old French fort. In doing so they must either retreat or stand and die. Elsewise, we will be here for many more months trying to batter their lines to Kingdom Come. We may be cautious and batter them for a few more months, or a daring stroke my undo their whole army.”

    Both MacDougall and Dundas studied that point. MacDougall with a small crease of distaste in his gaze, and Dundas frowning at it like a particularly vexing letter. Wolseley felt no fear in the face of the enemy, but at this moment he wondered if he had finally said too much too freely. Finally, Dundas nodded.

    “Very well, Colonel. We shall begin preparations to drive the Yankees off their forlorn hope.” Outside, the cannonade continued.
     
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    • Ficboy

    Banned
    With Robert E. Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia in Bladensburg, Maryland which is near Washington D.C. all they need is one final decisive blow to take the city and thus secure victory in the Great American War.

    For post-war, the border states of Kentucky, Missouri and Maryland would have referendums to decide whether they secede and join the Confederacy or stay in the Union whether the latter likes it or not after the peace talks finish. Kentucky is the most likely to secede since the Confederates already have a significant presence in that state but Missouri is going to stay since Nathaniel Lyon took St. Louis and Maryland is a big toss up due to what's been happening recently. West Virginia is going to stay in the Union not counting any pro-Confederate counties.

    Here is what the Confederate States will most likely look after the Great American War in Wrapped in Flames
    1. Virginia
    2. North Carolina
    3. South Carolina
    4. Georgia
    5. Florida
    6. Alabama
    7. Mississippi
    8. Louisiana
    9. Texas
    10. Arkansas
    11. Tennessee
    12. Kentucky
    13. Arizona Territory/Arizona
    14. Indian Territory (named either Sequoyah or Oklahoma)


    The most important things for the Confederate States to advance as a society are 1. Industrializing to keep with the Western nations and 2. Reluctantly abolishing slavery.
     
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