“We have,” the Duke said, fighting to control his temper. “This is Lord John Russell, the Prime Minister.”

Sherman nodded and turned to Russell — presenting his back to the Queen. There were horrified gasps from the ladies, which he ignored. “You are leader of the government — while the Duke heads the army. Are you of a like mind that the hostilities are to cease?”

“Some discussion is needed…” Russell said. Sherman shook his head.

“That is out of the question. I was instructed by President Lincoln that the war would be ended only by unconditional surrender.”

“You presume too much, sir!” the Duke raged. “Surrender is a word not lightly used—”

Sherman silenced him with a curt wave of his hand. “It is the only word that I will use.” He turned back to the Queen. “Since you are said to rule supreme in this country, I must tell you that your war is lost. Unconditional surrender is your only option.”

Victoria’s mouth gaped even more widely; she had not been spoken to in this manner since she was a child.

“I cannot… will not,” she finally gasped.

“By God — this has gone far enough!” the Duke raged, stepping forward and pulling at his sword. Before it was free of its scabbard, two soldiers had seized him and prisoned his arms.

“Outrageous…” Russell gasped, but Sherman ignored them both and turned back to the Queen.

“I will cease all military operations as soon as surrender is agreed. You will remember that you sent the white flag to me. So tell me now, is the killing to stop?”

All eyes in the room were now on the diminutive figure in the large chair. The color had drained from her face and she pressed a black handkerchief to her lips. Her eyes found Lord Russell and sought help. He drew himself up but did not speak. When she turned back to General Sherman, she found no compassion in his grim expression. In the end she simply nodded and dropped back in the chair.

“Good,” Sherman said, then addressed himself to the Duke of Cambridge. “I will have the papers for surrender drawn up for you to sign in your capacity as commander of all the armed forces. The Prime Minister will sign as well. You will remain here until that is done.” Once again he spoke to the Queen.

“It is my understanding that you have a residence on the Isle of Wight named Osborne House. I will see to it that you are taken there with your family and servants. The war is now over.”

As he looked around at the luxury of Windsor Castle and the silent witnesses, Sherman could not hold back a sudden feeling of triumph.

They had done it. There would still be skirmishes, but with London taken and the Queen in protective custody, the war would undoubtedly be over.

Now all they had to do was win the peace.

BOOK THREE

DAWN OF A NEW AGE

A COUNTRY DIVIDED

It was a time for confusion, a time for control. The peoples of Great Britain were stunned into inaction by the sudden, earthshaking events, and they appeared to be unable to quite grasp the overwhelming tragedy that had befallen them. Superficially, after two days of uncertainty and near riots, life continued in what appeared to be a normal way. People must eat — so the farmers brought their produce to market. Shops and businesses reopened. The local constables, in a great part of the land, remained at their posts, symbols of law and order. Only in the larger cities was there disconcerting evidence that the world had indeed turned upside down. Blue-clad soldiers patrolled the streets, armed and ready for any exigency. They were there in all of the major train stations, billeted in the police barracks and in hotels, or in rows of neat bell tents in the city parks. At Aldershot and Woolwich, and other army camps, the regular troops were confined to barracks and disarmed, the volunteers and the yeomanry disbanded and sent home.

Cornwall and Plymouth were already occupied and more reinforcements were landed there. Trainloads of troops then went west and north and quietly took over Wales and the northern shires. Only Scotland remained undisturbed — although cut off from all communication with the south. The telegraph wires were down and the trains did not run. Scottish troops remained in their barracks for want of any instructions, while rumors were rife. The English newspapers did not arrive, while the Scottish ones, with access to valid information, had more wild speculation than news.

Martial law had been declared in the land and the national newspapers were the first victims. American officers were now sitting quietly in every editorial office and reading each day’s issues with great interest. There was no attempt at editorial censorship — the papers were allowed to print whatever they saw fit. However, if the Americans felt that editorial material was inaccurate, or might tempt the populace to riot, or in any way might affect the new peace, why then, the printed newspapers were simply not distributed. Within a few days the clear message sank home and a blandness and aura of harmony emanated from all their pages.

“You are sure that you are not going too far with this censorship, Gus?” General Sherman asked, slowly turning the pages of The Times. He had summoned Gustavus Fox to his office in Buckingham Palace. Fox smiled as he shook his head.

“When war walks in the door, truth flies out the window,” Fox said. “You will remember that President Lincoln closed down the strident, dissenting Northern newspapers during the War Between the States. I think that we can be a little more sophisticated now. People will believe what they read in the newspapers. If the populace of Britain reads only about peace and prosperity — and sees no evidence for them to think differently — why then, there will be peace in the land. But rest assured, General, this is only a temporary measure. I am sure that you prefer to operate now in an aura of numbed peace rather than one of disorganization and unrest while your — what shall we call them? — pacification measures go into effect.”

“True, very true,” Sherman said, rubbing at his beard as he cudgeled his thoughts. Winning the peace was proving to be more difficul

t than winning the war had been. He had to rely more and more on civil servants and clerks — even politicians — to organize the peaceful occupation of the country. Thank God that martial law was still in place. He accepted advice, even asked for it, but when it came time for firm decisions, he was the final authority.

“Well — let us put the matter aside for the moment. I sent for you because I’ve had a delegation cooling their heels in a waiting room for most of the morning. I wanted you here when I let them in. I have had a communication from President Lincoln.” He held up the letter. “He congratulates us on our victory, and expresses great pride in the armed forces. I’m having this read out to every soldier and sailor who contributed to that victory. Put it into the newspapers, too — if they will print it. He also includes a letter to the British people, and the papers will certainly print that. But first I would like you to read it to these politicos. See what they have to say about it.”

“That will be my pleasure, General.” Fox took the letter and went through it quickly. “Wonderful. This is just what everyone wants to hear.”

“Good. We’ll have them in.”

Tags: Harry Harrison Stars and Stripes Science Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net