A Day in Tortuga (Part I)

Port Fadrique, Island of Tortuga: January 1889

The airship swung listlessly in the heat of a Caribbean day from her moorings in one of the many disreputable or nearly derelict sky docks of Tortuga. The rising sun, lazily coming up over the horizon painted her long bulbous shape a tawny brown, the colour of brewing tea. The sky docks of Tortuga, called by locals Port Fadrique stood to the west of the regular nautical port of Tortuga, Port Breathern. Port Fadrique was a ramshackle mass of wood and iron gantries, cranes and derricks, ladders and elevators, shabby offices, bulging storage barns and sooty workshops mounted on platforms both on land and rising from the sea.

As lighter-then-air dirigibles, this particular airship was not much to look at, her hull plating being as patched, scuffed and faded as it's much patched and stitched canvas envelope. The whole airship had a woebegone, tatterdemalion air to her, having seen much hard and varied service under many different masters and owners. In point of fact it was arguable whether the airship or the air dock around her was in worse shape.

Kurt Ortleib, looked at the airship thoughtfully for several minutes from the hillside over looking Port Fadrique. Kurt Ortleib was many things, like the airship he was examining through his old spy glass. Derelict, outcast, mercenary, he'd been all those things in his life. He had been born in a quiet, sleepy, backwood village in the province of Prussian Saxony, in the Kingdom of Prussia, some forty three years before. He had gone to school in the village, been lucky enough to attend a technical college and learn a trade, before joining the Prussian Royal Army for his term of conscription. The artillery had been his arm of service and he had been judge competent enough by his superiors to rise to the rank of feldwebel during his seven years in the army. Kurt had joined the ranks of the Freikorps, the German mercenary fraternity, after he had finished his term, rather then try and find a new vocation in civilian life.

For some years it had not been a bad decision, although at other times Kurt had thought it had been amoung the worse decisions of his life. Kurt had drifted from Freikorps unit to unit, never staying for long, not because his peers disliked him or that they thought him a bad soldier, it was just he never seemed to be wholly comfortable with anyone or any group for long, being something of a loner at heart. Finally his drifting had left him, here in Tortuga. Perhaps that airship would be his next step, to somewhere else.

He packed the spy glass away in his haversack, and began to pick his ways down the hillside through the narrow and confusing streets of the shanty town that sprawled untidily over much of it. He glanced at the pamphlet he had found in his morning newspaper, as he walked. The advertisement said simple:

Wanted!

Airship captain, seeking a crew for privateering and mercenary service. Those with prior military, mercenary or similar experience required. Technical expertise with small arms, artillery, technical or engineering skills perfered. Please apply at Office No.553, Hallwood Dock, Port Fadrique.

Note: Feldwebel is the German Army equivalent rank of sergeant.

Attendance at the Kendal Ball (VI)

Piccadilly Square, London, Great Britain: January 1886

Finishing the soup, Sir Leo and Ursula turned their attention to the main course of their meal, which was quickly and deftly placed before them by the returning waitress, roasted quail served with duchess potatoes and asparagus hollandaise. She paused only long enough to refill their drinks before withdrawing to attend the other tables in the luxurious room. It's roof and walls were decorative metalwork mixed with equally decorative woodwork fitted with semi-opaque stained glass panels, which threw a soft, mellow light throughout the whole room which reminded it's two dozen occupants of a quiet, pleasant green house. The floors were fitted with deep, plush carpets covered in botanical designs of beautiful flowers and coiling vines. A quartet of musicians -- a cello, two violins and a flute -- played softly in a annex on one side of the room surrounded by cultivated rose bushes. George Calvary reserved this elegant room, within the restaurant, for special customers or old friends exclusively.

"Speaking of balls, my written response of acceptance should be delivered to your residence within the hour. I believe that Cecilia has already sent her acceptance."

"Excellent. It will be good to have you and Cecilia there."

"I understand the Friday ball is expected to be one of special significance, the society papers are already chattering about it. Even the House of Lords and the House of Commons is rife with speculation about who is and who is not invited."

"I fail to see why? After all, it is only five hundred people, most of them my family's closest and oldest friends and relations." Ursula responded guilelessly although the wicked gleam in her eyes said otherwise, a moment later she giggled at Sir Leo's arch expression of mock disbelief. The five hundred people involved just happened to include a good section of ultra fashionable London, a quarter of the House of Lords and a great many celebrities in the British world of the arts, sciences and literature. Not to mention gentry, politicians, bankers, financiers and business persons of no small accomplishments. That also did not include the virtual army of servants, waiters, caterers and musicians being engaged for the evening.

"Young lady, you are absolutely incorrigible, you do know that?"

"Guilty as charged." Ursula retorted with a laugh.

"Well it runs in both sides of your family so perhaps it can not be helped." Sir Leo said with a sigh, shaking his head sorrowfully. Ursula could not control the fit of giggles his lugubrious expression touched off, and only sternly brought it to a halt by returning her attention to her meal. The two managed to get generally caught up on their respective news by the time the desert, arrived a mix of fresh fruit, cheese and biscuits. From her side she told of her experiences in Brazil, managing her family's collection of coffee plantations which were finally making a better then average profit sufficient to justify their acquisition. Sir Leo, discussed with her the high lights of his adventures occasioned by his West Africa and Western Sudan expedition.

By the time the coffee arrived, Ursula was shaking her head in wonder at what Sir Leo had so recently gone through in his many months away from British shores, and even more surprised that he had come through it in one piece with life and limb intact. Ursula, did not know the half of it because there was a great deal more about the trip that Sir Leo did not give voice to. For instance the fact that the expedition was not merely for geographical, zoological and biological concerns or even for trade or establishing formal and normalized diplomatic relations with the Wassoulou Empire. The real backers of the Worthing Expedition had been the British government, and was based entirely on their calculations of furthering the Great Game that dominated European politics and alliances.

Great Britain needed a buffer against French expansionism in West Africa, and embroiling France on one side and Germany and Wassoulou on the other was a means to do that. It would also largely leave Britain's hands free of the whole affair if anything went wrong and be relatively inexpensive to the British taxpayers. Well not that inexpensive in the long run, as it was going to cost the Exchequer over forty-five million pounds over the next three years. The British government had promised Samori about fifteen million pounds in three separate installments in that time frame. Sir Leo had already delivered the first installment and used the second installment to purchase trade goods, munitions and armaments for Samori's Royal Army. The third installment would do the same through other intermediaries in German West Africa to purchase munitions and armaments for Samori's Field and Garrison armies.

Sir Leo looked regretfully at the clock over the room's mantel piece, it was almost two o'clock. He had a great many affairs in Parliament to deal with before he was free to spend his day as he pleased. Several articles of parliamentary business to read through, a bill to vote on and of course five selected divorce cases to review and conduct before the committee. It was going to be a long day, Sir Leo thought. Ursula noticed Sir Leo's gaze and nodded to herself, and suspected what he was thinking. She had some affairs of her own to deal with concerning the coming ball. Sir Leo signaled the waitress for their bill.

"Again, Sir Leo, thanks for inviting me to lunch. it was a very pleasant way to spend a few hours."

"Saved you from some other tedious social invitation?"

"Yes, the Timbertons invited me to tea this afternoon."

"Dear God, that is something to be avoided at all costs. Lilly and Melinda are two of most beautiful and fashionable women to grace London, they are also two of it's infinitely most boring people imaginable. Well that is not quite true, but they certainly attract all the other loungers and idly stupid people in London society to them." Sir Leo observed wryly. Ursula nodded feelingly, then they both rose as Sir Leo placed their bill's payment and the waitress's tip on the table.

"I will see you next at the ball." Both said simultaneously, which caused them to both start laughing softly.

Fragments from the Americas (Part II)

Salt Lake City, Utah, Disputed Western Territories, North America: January 1889

The siege lines spread like cancerous growths this way and that across the plains and hills beneath the shadows of the Uinta mountains. Entrenchments, deep belts of rusting barbed wire, wooden stakes and earth, sandbag and timbered gun positions clustered like barnacles. In these lines men and women fought, lived, died and endured, all the while hammering, bailing and digging and repairing or extending the ramparts and redoubts. The sky was leaden and dark, storm clouds hovered thickly, the air was charged with the taint of expectant rain. It made a welcome change from the ever present smells of death, black powder and smoke.

Captain Ezra Powell Hackett, Mormon Republican Army, watched the clouds through his telescope. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Faint flickers of lightening brightened the shifting dark clouds. His gaze swept the horizon three times each day, each time he recorded his observations for the Mormon Council ensconced in the heavily fortified city. He had done this duty with the same diligence for the last four months, nothing changed day in day out: the Union Army or rather armies stood some twenty miles beyond the city limits. Every day to the east and northeast, the Union Armies of the Colorado, the Platte, and the Arkansas hammered at the Mormon defenses. Every day, a line or section of entrenchments was demolished, captured or abandoned, everyday another Mormon fort or artillery position was destroyed, captured or suppressed by a hail of artillery fire or falling bombs from Union airships or aircraft flying high overhead. Everyday, Union observation balloons rose above the battlefield and watched every move the Mormons made within their own lines. Everyday, the Union lines crawled a little closer to the city, even if it was only a few feet at a time. For the Union armies, it was not a question of if Salt Lake City would fall, it was a question of when.

Four months back, the Union Army had brought up the Armies of the Rio Grande and the Pecos, and tried to out flank the Mormon eastern entrenchments around Lake Utah to the south of Salt Lake City. This flank had been thinly held, to spare reserves for the eastern defense lines. Frantic and desperate battles had been fought by the Mormon militias to buy precious time, at places like Lofgreen, Vernon, Faust, Fairfield and Cedar Valley. The casualties the Mormon Militia had endured had been devastating but they had done what they tried to do, gain time for the Nauvoo and Deseret Legions to be redeployed and the Union flanking movement died at the battles of Rush Valley, Ophir and Stockton, the most bloody of them all the Battle of Toole.

The mauled Union Armies of the Rio Grande and the Pecos, had fallen back but only to hold their ground at Eureka and Goshen, and no effort by the Mormon Republican Army had been successful in making them fall back any further. The siege of Salt Lake City had now become a war on two fronts, the Union was closing the noose more tightly around the Mormon capital.

Captain Hackett, had observed every day, more and more steam trains and wagon trains making their way into the Union reserve lines and depots out beyond the reach of Mormon heavy artillery. More troops, more supplies and more guns, coming in everyday. The Union generals were obviously contemplating another big push on the Mormon entrenchments, although they seemed in no hurry to launch such a move, though. Then again, why should they, they had time and superior logistics to do the thing properly.

Hackett had heard reports of large numbers of steam tanks, walking engines and land rams coming into the lines behind the Union camps. There had even been rumours of three Union land fortresses moving up under the cover of the recent storms and the darkness of night. Hackett himself had  seen the presence of Union sky forts cruising low and ominously on the horizon or over the mountains tops. Help was supposed to be coming from California and Nevada, but Hackett was not confident it would arrive in time or if it did was far from sure it would be enough.

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part V)

Piccadilly Square, London, Great Britain: January 1886

The pretty auburn haired waitress withdrew after placing the shallow bowls of savoury Consomme Olga soup before them at their private table in the Restaurant Calvary. The owner of the very exclusive, very fashionable London restaurant, Charles Francis Calvary, was an old school friend of Sir Leo's, they had attended Barchester College together. Sir Leo had helped arrange the financing and advertisement for the restaurant when it first opened some years ago. Calvary an enterprising and efficient manager, maitre'd and chef himself had made the business a splendid social and financial success. Consequently, Charles insisted that his old friend, Sir Leo, who in the course of time had been the best man at his wedding, favourite godfather of his children as well as his business partner be given preferencial treatment by the staff whenever he dined at Calvary's.

"Thank you, for inviting me to lunch, Sir Leo."

"You are welcome, Ursula. I thought it necessary in the circumstances, although I admit the pleasure of your company makes it less an unwelcome duty."

"What trouble could I ever be to you, Sir Leo?" Ursula asked mildly perplexed, by Sir Leo's, suddenly serious tone and manner. When his man Saunders had unexpectedly turned up at her door that morning just after breakfast she had been delighted at the offer of luncheon together by Sir Leo. It would serve two purposes for her; it would allow them to catch up with each other, share their news and experiences, and it would save her from having to accept an invitation to an early afternoon tea with the horridly boring Timberton sisters and their equally banal coterie of aristocratic courtiers, sycophants and hangers on in their society salon in the Grosvenor Mansions.

Sir Leo, fixed his gaze on her through his monocle, for a long moment, obviously thinking over how to best tackle the subject. Suddenly, he gave a small shrug, then spoke without attempting to dress up or finesse the issue at hand.

"What you are Ursula, is a newly minted, young and unmarried duchess; the pinnacle of the titled aristocracy short of the Royal Family, with a very desirable fortune. A fortune that makes you one of the richest women in the Empire, let alone Europe. Fifty-three million pounds sterling in the Bank of England, twenty-two million in the Bank of Switzerland, seven point five million combined in the Banks of Nova Scotia and Montreal and the Royal Bank of Canada, and some fifteen million in the Imperial Bank of Brazil. With I might add, a personal monthly income running into the six figures. All of which when taken together with your very considerable personal charms and considerable landed properties and corporate holdings makes you a most desirable bachelorette."

"Just how do you know so much about my financial situation?" Ursula asked, a trace of apprehension and confusion filtered into her voice.

"Your father made me one of the seven man council of executors and trustees of his and by extension your estate, several years ago."

"Oh." Ursula looked down at her soup, stirring its contents idly. "A single woman in possession of a fortune must be in want of a husband?" She could see her parents setting things up like that to protect her, she felt grateful that even now after their deaths they were still looking out for and after her best interests.

"A good paraphrase of Jane Austen, my dear. So quite a few unmarried and financially challenged men will think. Some will be moved to take a gambler's throw at you, they have nothing to lose and a king's or in this case a duchess's ransom to win. Very few of them will have your best interests close to their hearts."

"Well they can save themselves the effort, Leo." Ursula said with some heat in her voice and expression. "I am not some prized mare to be haggled over or bartered for."

"Good." Sir Leo, announced over the edge of his glass of Port. The slightest of smiles played on his lips. To her surprise and not a little relief, Sir Leo suddenly shifted the tract of the conversation. "Still set on that young fellow of your's, Captain Thomas Jameson?"

"Yes." Ursula responded, the barest hint of a blush creeping onto her bronzed cheeks. "I intend to use the ball on Friday to make that perfectly clear. To everyone." Sir Leo's slight smile widened still more and his brown eyes twinkled at her.

"Good. Name the wedding day and I will be there, in full dress uniform, come hell or high water. Even if I have to marry the two of you myself."

"T-Thank you, Leo." She murmured softly her voice catching in her throat, it was obvious to him that she was suppressing with difficulty a great depth of feeling. "That means a great deal to me. Do you, think that Papa and Mama would have approved?"

Sir Leo considered the question for a minute, before answering.

"Of you becoming, Mrs. Jameson? Yes, I think they would."

Mrs. Wraithdale-Jameson, if you please." Ursula reproved him with a smile playing on her lips. Sir Leo's own smile blossomed into something like a grin.

"Thomas has agreed to that?" He asked observing her with an arched eyebrow over his glass.

"Well no. Not yet... exactly, but he will, I just need to convince him."

"Ursula, the last time I recall seeing you 'convince' someone, it involved you liberally and repeatedly applying the blunt end of an army service revolver to their skull."

"Well, yes. That was a somewhat... ahem... extreme case on my part, I admit. Although I do not think, in this instance, Thomas will require... quite that much persuasion on my part."

"A toast then." Sir Leo lifted his glass again. Ursula lifted her own glass to match his. "To the successs of your first social ball as the Duchess of Kendal, Ursula, may it be the first of many for both of you."

Their glasses clinked together musically.

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part IV)

Schomberg Palace, London, Great Britain: January 1886

The Dowager Duchess of Schomberg picked that moment to enter the dinning room, Deerborn shuffling in tow, like a small wretched fishing boat caught in the powerful wake of a larger, more stately ship-of-the-line under full sail. Her Grace Norma Worthing-Topper was a breathtakingly beautiful and vigourous woman, it was easy to see where her daughter Cecilia had come by her comely good looks. Even at sixty-five their mother could still turn heads and gather a crowd of adoring not to say drooling male admirers around her at any social gathering she designed to attend to the seething envy of all other women present.

Her formerly blonde hair had it was true silvered with age, which however only enhanced her regal looks, while her bright blue eyes were as they had always been lustrous and clear. Her children rose wordlessly at her approach and bowed respectfully just before she seated herself at the end of the table opposite her eldest son with Deerborn's assistance. Her eyes swept over them, her full lips pressed flat across the fullness of her mouth being neither a smile nor a frown but ready to shift with the slightest twist of her lips into either.

Yes, they thought she was definitely in one of her moods. Deerborn, fussed wordlessly at the buffet preparing her plate, placing it before her on the table then hastening to procure a cup of black coffee for her. The silence in the room would have made the sound of a hat or a hair pin hitting the table top sound like that of a falling anvil. Wilfred busied himself with preparing his own plate, then took his seat. The silence in the room stretched on.

Sir Leo regarded his mother for several moments in complete silence. He knew the look his mother was giving both Wilfred and Cecilia, any minute they would receive the angry bite of her tongue over some real or imagined fault or sin they had committed. Without looking he knew Stephen was thinking the same thing, and knew that his older brother would shortly try and do or say something to deflect her anger. Sir Leo finished his breakfast unhurriedly, seemingly completely unruffled by his mother's basilisk gaze. After finishing his tea, he proceeded to write a note on a blank sheet of paper torn from his writing note book. Folding the page neatly, placing it within a small envelope he had brought with him he looked up at Deerborn standing diffidently at his mother's shoulder.

"Deerborn, kindly give this to Saunders, have him take it immediately to the address indicated upon it. Tell him he is to ask for an immediate reply from the recipient. He is to return the response to me as quickly as possible by either person or telegram, whichever proves to be more efficacious at the given moment upon his return. Am I understood." His words were polite but his tone was alarmingly flat and the last three words in particular were spoken in such a way as to be understood as not being a question.

"Err...Yes, My Lord. I shall attend to it directly. My Lord."

Sir Leo watched as Deerborn left hurriedly on his appointed errand, then turned his gaze back to his mother, tossing his fountain pen down onto the open note book. This action broke the brittle silence that filled the room, his next words smashed it to flinders.

"Well, out with it, Mama. I have a dozen errands to run before the day is out all of them necessary or tedious and I will be stuck in the Houses of Parliament, most of the day listening to applications before the Special Appellate and Parliamentary Committee for the Consideration of Divorce Cases." His three siblings looked at him with surprise and alarm in their eyes. Sir Leo leaned back in his chair, merely crossed his arms in front of him and awaited his mother's reply. The Dowager Duchess's eyes flashed blue fire at her second son's remarks. His flat, imperturbable gaze angered her still more.

Sir Leo's chairmanship of that said committee - one of several such parliamentary bodies of a technical, military or legal nature that he was a member of - was a sore point between them amounting to a virtual ulcer with his mother; a deeply devoted and sincere high church Anglican. The Dowager Duchess absolutely abhorred the very notion of divorce. The fact her second son routinely presided over such cases that had by British Law to be brought before Parliament to even be acted upon, since he had retired from military service on medical grounds back in '83 both horrified and revolted her. The fact that in the first three months of directing the committee, he had cleared a backlog of some eight hundred cases pending before Parliament some of them years if not decades old, brought order and system to a previously overly bureaucratic, painfully ineffectual and hideously expensive method of executing parliamentary and marriage law horrified her beyond measure. A fact she never ceased in season and out of season to make perfectly clear in the most passionate and ultra conservative terms to her son at every opportunity. Totally without result or effect it might be added, Sir Leo was his father's son: stubborn, opinionated and thoroughly determined to do his duty according to his own lights to his sovereign and his country weather anyone else like what he was doing or not.

The Dowager abruptly rose from her chair, looked icily at her son, then turned from the table without a word to any of them. She swept out of the dining room, nearly knocking old Deerborn aside as he attempted to re-enter the room. The old butler stood baffled for a long moment in the doorway then shuffled after his mistress. Everyone else in the dinning room started to breath again at that moment.

"Leo, old boy." Wilfred began. "I thought you were going to get a right royal thrashing there from Mama's razor sharp tongue."

"Oh, it may still come to that, Wilfred but it will be later and in private. at least I have deflected her wrath for the present onto me, not you and Cecilia." Sir Leo felt his sister's hand slip over his when he placed it on the table to gather up his newspapers, letter and note book.

Stephen rose from his chair, walked round the table to clasp his younger brother firmly on the shoulder, giving him a brotherly shake of support and affection, then made for the door remarking as he did so.

"I will see if I cannot calm Mama down a bit, Leo. If she rants at me for an hour or two, she will forget the whole affair by the time she calls on her society friends for luncheon."

"You should not have done that, Leo. But... thanks awfully." For a moment, the image of the accomplished and delightfully willful young woman beside him slide back through time back into the sometimes troubled and tearful young girl who had so often turned to her older brother for succor, understanding and comfort. Sir Leo rose quietly from the table, leaned down and kissed the top of his sister's head.

"What is the use of big brothers and captains of scarlet battalions, if not to rescue fair damsels and young fools from dragons, monsters under beds and in closets and frightful governors and governess' and terrible old dowagers."

"Hey, now!" Wilfred burst out laughing from his side of the table. Sir Leo had twitted his younger brother since as long as any of them could remember about his vices, weaknesses really: strong drink, games of chance and the company of attractive women who were most definitely not his wife or girlfriend.

"Well, I am off then." Sir Leo remarked quietly as he nodded to each of his siblings and made for the door. He had a tremendous number of things to do today before lunch and the quicker he was about them the sooner they would be done and he could turn his mind and attention to the affairs of the Duchess of Kendal.

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part III)

Schomberg Palace, London, Great Britain: January 1886

"Thank you, Deerborn, that will be all." Sir Leo suddenly remarked, as his fingers hit the desk top for the final time. "Tell, Stephen, I shall be joining him in the family dinning room for breakfast momentarily."

"Very Good, My Lord."

As soon, as Deerborn, closed the door behind him, Sir Leo, went to the door and locked it. He wanted neither to be disturbed at this moment nor to have to explain what he was doing. Once that was done, he went back to his desk, unlocked a special drawer hidden by a false panel and leafed through it's contents. Withdrawing a bundle of two dozen letters and a leather bound notebook. Quickly replaced the monocle in his left eye and carefully re-read each of the letters, giving particular attention to three of them addressed to him by the late 3rd Duke of Kendal, Sir Geoffrey Wraithdale.

Sir Leo, then carefully restacked the letters and turned his attention to the leather notebook, flipping through several pages, filled with scribbled notes of drafts of figures, sums and accounts. He abruptly snapped the notebook shut after several long moments of study. The residue of Sir Geoffrey's estate was considerable... so considerable in point of fact, that many men might play a dangerous game to either gain it or at least control it. Sir Leo replaced the items in their locked drawer, and left his study to make his way downstairs to the dinning room with the morning newspapers and the Duchess's letter under his arm.

"Morning, Leo." Stephen remarked from the long table, his breakfast already finished save for a cup of coffee set at his elbow, as he leafed through the morning papers. Sir Leo's older brother, the 7th Duke of Schomberg, as was his habit dressed in his naval uniform, which to do him justice suited him wonderfully well. Dark haired and dark eyed, like all the Worthing-Topper men with a face rendered tanned by the sun and long periods of sea service, Stephen looked the picture of the gallant and professional British Royal Navy officer. His good looks, smartly trimmed moustaches and goatee, his considerable height - he was nearly six feet from head to toe - enhanced that image, as did the rows of service ribbons and decorations that adorned his chest.

"Morning, Stephen." Sir Leo responded as he filled a plate from the buffet, deposited it on the table with his papers, then returned to the buffet for a cup of tea. "Vivian not joining us this morning?" he remarked over his shoulder. Stephen's wife was punctuality personified, so her absence was immediately noticed by Sir Leo.

"No, still taking things gently this morning. That preparation, your man, Otani, came up with helped with her cold very well last night. Vivi' is breathing more normally, I think she got a decent rest finally, although she's still has not gotten her appetite back fully. Still, she got down a glass of orange juice, a chocolate roll and some coffee at 7:30 this morning, so hopefully she'll be receptive to something with more substance by lunch."

"I will pass on your compliments to Otani, then shall I?" Sir Leo remarked with a smile over the brim of his tea cup.

"Please." Stephen rejoined between sips of his own coffee. "Any plans for the day?"

"I have some errands and some parliamentary committee duties to attend to this morning, yes. Although I should be free by the late afternoon, at the earliest. Am I required for some special social duty?"

"Mama, will be joining us, shortly and she's in one of her moods, again."

"Which one would that be? Let me guess: it's either I or Wilfred are behaving absolutely disgracefully, again, or Cecilia has done something that Mama does not approve of?"

Stephen surprised himself with a short bark of laughter at his younger brother's equal parts droll and exasperated tone. Stephen had always been the dutiful son, with regards their parents, while the youngest son, Lionel Wilfred had always been something of the black sheep of the family. Leopold however had always had the most stubbornly independent strike of the three brothers, and thought absolutely nothing of answering back to either of their parents if he thought they were in the wrong or being merely obstinate. Father, of course had never been bothered by this: it showed his second son had character. Leo was as a rule rarely disrespectful to them even if he managed to exasperate them at times and in most reasonable things was perfectly willing to accommodate his parents wishes and commands. Mama had always taken it badly however, she saw her middle son's having a mind of his own, as nothing less then patent disloyalty, disrespect and disobedience.

Sir Leo rolled his eyes, at his brother's expression. At that moment, Wilfred casually sauntered into the dinning room and helped himself to a cup of coffee.

"Morning, fellows." He said affably. Both his elder brothers nodded in return, before resuming their study of the morning news.

"Better make yourself scarce Wilfred, Mama may be on the warpath again." Sir Leo said without looking up from his letter.

"Oh God, and it's only just past breakfast?!" Wilfred remarked with a look of mock innocence and  horror written on his face.

"You are as bad as Leo, Wilfred!" Stephen shot back with a chuckle and shake of his head. Cecilia, their youngest sibling chose that moment to make her appearance in the dinning room.

"Morning." She said gaily, her brothers smiled in unison, Cecilia had a way of lighting up a room with her sunny disposition and graceful beauty. She quickly seated herself beside her favourite brother, Leo, as Wilfred gathered up a plate of food for her.

"Thanks, Freddie." As Wilfred laid the plate before her, and topped up a cup of coffee for her as well. Cecilia was the only one who called Wilfred by the nickname 'Freddie', or rather more importantly was allowed to. Leo and Stephen, usually called him Will or Wilfred, as they knew he was less then enthralled with his first  Christian name Lionel.

"Oooh!" Cecilia cooed as she say the letter from the Duchess of Kendal, Cecilia was never one to pry into others affairs but she loved news, adored gossip and absolutely cherished parties. It didn't hurt that she was an acquaintance of the Duchess's and shared much the same social circles.

"You got an invitation to Ursula's ball too, Leo?" Cecilia remarked between sips of coffee.

"You as well?"

"Yes, the first round of invitations went out eight weeks ago, you were still in Africa, so it's not surprising that you missed yours. Today, this Monday, she sent out a second round to re-confirm everyone's attendance and remind those who got missed the first round for one reason or another."

"Hm." Sir Leo said seemingly refusing to comment further as he looking at the formal card of invitation.

"You are planning on attending...?" Cecilia asked coyly, leaning closer to her brother. "The Duchess's Ball, just would not be the same without her Captain of the Scarlet Battalions... ." Cecilia's voice had dropped to a low, alluring octave with the last words. A bright light of mirth, conspiracy and devilry glowed in her dark brown eyes. Sir Leo instantly swatted his sister over her golden head with the invitation.

"Bad Girl."

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part II)

Wraithdale House, Grosvenor Square, London, Great Britain: January 1886

Urusla Wraithdale, the Duchess of Kendal, sometime adventuress, world traveler and woman of leisure, looked at herself critically reflected in the full length mirror of her dressing room. She considered her image leisurely. She wore a beautiful dress of deep rich dark green, decorated with black lace, with a hint of white lace at the neck and wrists. This dress was the one she intended to wear for her ball this coming Friday and she wanted to make sure it was in proper order for that evening. Technically, since her father's death in November she should have been in mourning clothes, but her father who had detested Society's obsession with worshipping the conventions: particularly those concerning with mourning ritual, all his life. He had asked his daughter to throw him a big lively, happy party with all their family friends and relations after he had shuffled off to join the choir invisible! Urusla allowed herself a smile at that memory, she was going to dearly miss Papa in the years to come.

"What do you think, Jeremy?"

Her chief butler, Jeremy Haller, considered both his mistress and her remark for a long moment before answering.

"Splendid, Your Grace."

Ursula was a woman of moderate height, had a very pleasing figure, an erect carriage and she moved gracefully and well. She was not regarded by most men as a strictly "classical" beauty, what she was regarded as; was being very dangerously not to say scandalisely attractive. Urusla's long exposure to the hot Brazilian sun, had bronzed her skin to an very unfashionable but very alluring golden hue, which was set off by her long, heavily curled flaming red hair that framed her prettily sculpted face. Her eyes, were an equal parts fascinating and alarming silver white colour, which gave Ursula, a thoroughly disconcerting and mesmerizing gaze when she chose to direct it upon someone. Ordinarily she wore tinted glasses to hide or at least obscure her unusual eye colour. The Wraithdales, tended towards blondes, auburns and the like with regard to their hair colours, and a range of rather more conventional colours with regard to their irises but a few Wraithdales in perhaps every other generation since time immemorial were born with this scarlet hair and these strange eyes. Her late father for instance had those same eyes and hair colour, as did her late mother. Which wasn't all that surprising as they had been fourth cousins from different branches of the Wraithdale family.

"Have all the invitations gone, out Jeremy?"

"Yes, Your Grace, and all the answers have come back most promptly and in the most emphatically affirmative, I must say."

"Good, better then I or Papa, had hoped."

Urusla considered her jewelry for the party, pearls and diamonds, I think, as she looked at the boxes, her personal maid Susan Ravenswing was opening for her inspection.

"Oh, have the Viscount Worthing, and Captain Jameson replied to their invitations yet, Jeremy?"

"Sir Thomas, has responded, Your Grace."  Jeremy said after consulting a note book, that he had withdrawn from his coat pocket. "His ship, is in dockyard hands for at least the next fortnight from the end of the week, so he will be at your disposal for the ball on Friday."

Ursula, smiled inwardly at what Jeremy had diffidently not said, then again he was well aware of his mistress's very personal attachment to the Captain Sir Thomas Jameson, and left it at that.

"I am afraid I have not received a reply from his lordship, the Viscount Worthing, as yet."

That response did not altogether surprise her, either.
The Viscount Worthing, Sir Leopold Stanley Worthing-Topper, was amoung a great many things an accomplished gentlemen, an experienced parliamentarian, soldier, scholar, writer and explorer but what he was not was a social animal. He had absolutely no powers of discrimination, he treated all about him regardless of their walk of life or social standing with the same polite and polished courtesy. This egalitarian habit aside from his sarcastic and insightful wit, made him anathema to many of his peers in British Society, whom he infuriated even more by not giving the slightest jot about what they thought of him. Urusla for her own part absolutely adored him.

On her sixteenth birthday and formal presentation to Society, a then Captain-Lieutenant Leo Worthing-Topper, had gone out of his way on a rare home leave from his duties with the army in 1874 to rescue a completely unknown to him, girl about to be viciously snubbed at her first formal ball. He had not done it because it was the proper thing to do, but because it had been the right thing to do, which made the deepest impression upon her. That he was a handsome, decorated military hero and gave her his complete and unreserved attention that evening as both a dancing partner and dinner companion had also made an impression on her as well, she thought with merriment dancing in her eyes. Papa and Mama had nearly died laughing at the scandalized expressions on the faces of those who had tried to so savagely humiliate their daughter.

Sir Leo regarded many of his fellow aristocrats as self-important, overly self-indulgent Dutch or Norman Parvenus and Nouveaux riches, which from a historical perspective, and given his own family pedigree, many of them were; having road many a English king's coat-tails to wealth and power over the centuries since William I. He was only slightly more tolerant of the English gentry class, who had both a much closer often ancient connection with their communities and estates, then the often indolent and absentee aristocracy.

"Give his lordship a day or two more Jeremy, then I think we will hear from him one way or the other." Urusla said after a few moments more consideration.

"Very Good, Your Grace." Jeremy responded crisply.

Attendence at the Kendal Ball (Part I)

Schomberg Palace, London, Great Britain: January 1886

Sir Leo stood at his writing desk, going through the morning newspapers, in the study of the suite of rooms that were his in the palatial ducal family home in London. The whole family had been gathered for the Christmas season and the New Year, Mama, Stephen, Wilfred and Cecilia and himself of course. A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in." Sir Leo, said aloud, still reading through the London Times. Hm, another revolution in South America, possible war in Africa. As he sifted through the leading articles.

Hector Deerborn, one of the family's oldest and most stalwart servants (his own and Mama's opinion if no one else's) entered the room, the second butler of Schomberg Palace. White headed, his mass of long hair, drooping moustaches and long wide beard, always reminded Sir Leo of a haystack, that had just been ineffectually combed with a pitchfork! Stooped and possessed of a slow gait that could only be described as shuffling, the man was the personification of decrepitude. Deerborn had to be nearly seventy if he was a day, Sir Leo thought as he crossed the room.

"What is it, Deerborn?"

"A letter from the Lady Ursula Wraithdale, milord it came by the post not ten minutes ago." Deerborn answered with his usual fawningly unctuous manner, presenting the large envelope on a silver serving tray balanced ever so delicately in one of his white gloved hands.

"Hm."

The Wraithdales were an old family, quite as old as his own; part of the Old English land owning gentry, being squires and baronets as old as England. They had only entered the ranks of the truly aristocratic English Peerage a few generations back, when Lady Ursula's great-great-great-great grandfather had been made Baron Wraithdale by King George II. They had gradually since then climbed up the peerage due to diligence at the Court of St James and service in the Royal Navy and the British Army. In 1821, Vice-Admiral Sir Basil Wraithdale, Earl of Wraithdale had been created the Duke of Kendal for excellent military and diplomatic services rendered during the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars. Their dukedom's country seat was Kendal Castle in Westmoreland, Sir Leo remembered absently.

Urusla's father, the 3rd 'Wraithdale' Duke of Kendal had died recently, Sir Leo recalled it had been in all the newspapers when he'd arrived back in England in the first week of December of '85. Ursula being his only living and legitimate heiress had inherited the titles, income, properties and lands that went with his estate. Fortunately Ursula's father had been a careful, methodical man and a brilliant financial manager so unlike a great many of his fellow dukes. He had left his only daughter a well ordered estate and negligible debts to deal with when he kicked the bucket. Her ducal exchequer was an astonishingly handsome one, running in the millions of pounds sterling.

Sir Leo turned the heavily embossed envelop over in his hands, it crinkled when he squeezed it and felt rather heavier then if it's contents were ordinary paper, parchment or heavier card, perhaps? Sir Leo picked up a pen knife from his writing desk and carefully prided off the ornate seals, one the Wraithdale coat-of-arms clear as print in the sealing wax, the other being the Kendal ducal coat-of-arms and removed the several sheets of high quality paper contained within. Lifting his mononcle on it's cord to his left eye he began to read the first one.

Dearest Leopold,

I am delighted to hear that you have returned to England none the worse for your adventures and experiences in West Africa. I must admit when I first read of your planned expedition I was filled with some... no, strike that... a great deal of foreboding; after all Africa is not a safe place with regards to ones' health, reputation or life as my family should well know. I should not have worried on your account, after all if you can survive some fourteen years of hard and gallant service in the name of Her Majesty the Queen across three continents, you can survive nearly anything.

I apologize that my own affairs in Brazil kept me from being in England until recently. Coffee plantations do not mind themselves you know. I am still very put out that this necessary attention to family business prevented my attending your presentations at the Court of Saint James, the Royal Geographical Society and the Athenaeum when you first arrived home after nearly a year's absence in Africa.

I shall want to hear all about it when I next see you. All my friends,acquaintances and relations are just agog about your accomplishments! Please give my fullest regards to your mama, brothers and dearest Cecilia.

I enclose an invitation to my upcoming ball on Friday, I know of your dislike and disinclination towards society affairs and above all anything that requires you to stay in London. Of our old friendship, I implore you to please accept just this once.

Yours Sincerely,

Ursula Wraithdale, Duchess of Kendal

Sir Leo let the monocle drop from his eye, back against his deep blue brocade vest. His free hand tapped the desk top with two fingers repeatedly -- once, twice, thrice suddenly he made a throw away gesture with his fingers before dropping them back to the polished desk top for a fouth and final time.

Damn and Blast.

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The Serpent's Isles (Part III)

Akagi spoke first, when the pair met up with Totani on the pathway.

"Morning Tayo, just finishing your rounds of the posts today?"

"Just the Hiryu and Soryu Batteries, left, thankfully." Totani responded feelingly. Her courier duties took up much of her mornings and a good part of her afternoons each day, collecting the daily reports from each of the batteries and the many fortified infantry  or observation outposts that doted the two lagoons and the three islands that made up the head of the Serpent Isles" Fang Rock, Maw Island and Neck Island. She was fortunate that she didn't have to cover the other islands that made up the body and tail of the "snake" or she would be at her duties all day. Both Akagi and Sasaki as it happened had that particular responsiblility, and both had obviously just come back from the other island and landed on one of the numerous jetties to make their way back to Fang Bay and drop off those reports at the garrison headquarters.

"We will go with you, Tayo. Tedious duties pass more quickly with friends." Sasaki said in her soft, sibilant voice. Akagi, gave the Ainu equivalent of a nob of agreement, then lightly clasped Totoni's shoulder in a friendly grip. "Let's be about it then, when we get back to Fang Bay, lunch is on me."

 Totani walked with her comrades towards batteries with a more cheerful step. Her day suddenly feeling just a bit brighter then it had started.

Sho-sa Oda Mitsuru was as a rule a patient, thoroughly professional and humane man, well liked and respected by both his peers and subordinates alike while being esteemed by his superiors. A rare combination in any military establishment, his troops generally dubbed him Snow White or Old Snowy on account of his long white beard and moustache and his superb almost glacial clam and composure in any and all circumstances. He had been the Imperial Army his entire adult life, having served in the ranks before becoming an officer, although as a member of the samurai-caste in general and the powerful Oda clan in particular he was almost entitled to an officer commission by way of birth rate. He had chosen early on however to dedicate himself to mastering the highly technical artillery branch of the Service and had thought the best way to do that was from the bottom up.

That customary calm was in abeyance this afternoon, and that was because he had just gone through his morning correspondence from Headquarters in Tokyo, which explained his exceptionally foul mood to his military garrison and civilian staff. The Imperial Army Headquarters, had informed him that his samurai assault company was due to be rotated out within the next month, and a replacement infantry unit would not forthcoming. The captain of the gunboat Chiyodogata, the single warship the Imperial Navy, had not yet pulled out the isles, had advised him this morning that the Imperial Navy Headquarters was contemplating doing just that in a few weeks. It had been the capper to a perfect day, as far as Oda was concerned.

Oda, tossed his reading glasses upon the heap of letters, reports and sundry paperwork that covered his desk, and rose to walk to window of his office that faced Fang Bay. The Governor's Mansion, looked out from a hill overlooking the waters of the harbor. Being the military and civilian governor of the Serpent's Isles, had been Oda's job since his predecessor Sho-sho Sawato Hirotsu had died from over drinking in the spring of 1888. Oda was beginning to understand why after holding the job for the last ten months.


Note: (1) Sho-sa, was the IJA rank equivalent of Major. (2) Sho-sho, was the IJA rank equivalent of Major-General.

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Fragments from Dixie

Montgomery, Alabama, Confederate States of America: January 1889

 

 

President Samuel Bell Maxey, looked out the window of his office and surveyed the sprawling, busy capitol of the Southern Confederacy. Until 1867 the city of Montgomery had played host to both the Confederate federal government formed in 1861 and the State government of Alabama which had been located there since Alabama had been formed as a State in the Union. The Alabama State government had decided to gradually relocate to the flourishing city of Birmingham, Alabama after 1870, to free up space for the ever expanding collection of confederate capitol buildings, bureaus and offices. It had been a good move for both governments, the other states had long been uncomfortable with the two governments being placed so closely together.

Maxey, reminded himself wearily was the Confederacy's seventh president, before him six other men had occupied and grappled with the problems that came with this office.  Jefferson Finis Davis who had been elected the South's first president and been in many ways one of it's most divisive and controversial. The War between the States of 1861-67 had been a long drawn out affair, lasting all of Davis's tenure and there had been times when Maxey and others had wondered if the Confederacy would last six years let alone the twenty-eight it had so far held together. Davis had fought his own Congress almost as bitterly as the Union! Of course, Maxey thought those twenty-eight years had not been easy or harmonious for everyone either, conflicts both external and internal had marred those years which ought to have been ones of peaceful recovery.

It had also set back much progress in terms of both Confederate citizens lives and already scare state and federal funds. President John Cabell Breckinridge who had been elected in 1868 had worked to repair the physical damages of the long civil war and mend as many political fences both internally and with the foreign countries who had been both enemies and allies.  Breckinridge's otherwise sterling presidency which had promoted widespread agricultural diversification, land reform, industrial and education developments and internal improvements in canals, roads and railways was marred only by an unwanted war he had sought to avoid . John Brown Gordon elected in 1874, managed to negotiate an end to the botched Mexican War in 1873 started in that year by Texas's maverick Governor John Robert Baylor. Gordon had then worked with a will to strengthen the confederacy and its institutions in every way he could and left the Confederacy in much better circumstances both politically and economically then it had been for a long time.

Robert Augustus Toombs, elected in 1880, on the other hand nearly managed to tear the Confederacy apart, with his destructive conflicts with Congress and even his own cabinet.  Fortunately, Toombs had died more then halfway through his six year tenure to be replaced by his vice-president Howell Cobb, who himself only lived long enough to be sworen in before dying three months later. Simon Bolivar Buckner, the former Governor of South Kentucky was sworn in by the unanimous agreement of the Confederate Congress to act as a custodial president til new elections could be arranged. Buckner served as president through 1885-1887, and gave the Southern people three years of sober, efficient and prosperous government. Buckner had by the end of his term managed to erase much of the political damage Toombs had inflicted and even improve things for many citizens both white and black and red.  Now, Maxey, thought his greatest concern was the ongoing quarrels with the Union over Missouri and similar entanglements with Spain over Cuba which threatened to strain working relations with both countries to the breaking point. That was something the president adamantly would attempt to avoid, the Confederacy did not need another war.

Maxey felt the country had turned a corner in the relations between it's white and black and red populations, although negro slavery was still a going institution with the fifteen states that made up the Confederacy. A decision Congress had made back during the Civil War, which Maxey and all the presidents that had followed Davis had lived to regret, since it cost the South it's good political relations with Great Britain and France, it's war time allies. All the negro soldiers who had been enlisted in the Confederate Army or Navy from the middle of the war on, had been freed along with their immediate families. They had been granted freedman status but that had been as far as Congress had been willing to go, and even that had been too far for the likes of  Bob Toombs and Howell Cobb; who had lead the opposition in both political and military circles to try and block even that concession. Maxey sighed, President Toombs had also tried to undue the good relations with the Indian Tribes he and others like Albert Pike, Douglas Hancock Cooper and Stand Watie in Oklahoma had worked so hard to build up and steadily improve.

Admiral Leonidas Holt Bullfinch stared at the tall, heavily bearded president's back, his own arms folded tightly across his chest as he regarded his leader through his one good eye. Beside Bullfinch at the conference table sat Admiral Richard Lucian Page, the outgoing uniformed Commander of the Confederate Navy, Secretary of War General Gustavus Woodson Smith and Secretary of State James Lawrence Orr along with the Secretary of the Navy John Lunsford. The meeting the president had called that morning had been both a long and at times tense one. All of the men around the table could see the president was wrestling with a black mood, they happened more and more often of late. Then again, they also could understand why, they felt it themselves it was this house and everything that went with it.

"How are we on the progress towards completing the Garth Program?" Suddenly the president remarked from the window. Bullfinch and Page shared a glance. The Garth Program; named after Louisana Senator James Louis Garth, who had proposed it to the House and the Senate in 1884, for a comprehensive and large-scale construction program of both ships, shore installations and recruitment and training for the C.S.N. in particular the construction of a battle fleet worthy of the name. The Confederacy had a coastline of some three thousand five hundred and forty-nine miles with something like one-hundred and eighty-five openings for commerce: harbours, bays, channels, rivers, lagoons and swamps. It was a massive waterfront to both defend and patrol. Prior naval construction programs had built up a sizeable fleet but it largely consisted of riverine and coastal warships, steam screw or paddle-wheel driven vessels. One hundred gunboats made up the bulk of the Patrol Fleet, backed up by a small number of larger corvettes, while one hundred larger steam frigates and cruisers made up the balance of the Cruising Fleet, most of these vessels had been designed as long range commerce raiders so they were vessels with long endurance, good turns of speed but limited armaments as they were meant to fight merchant vessels not warships. The rest of the C.S.N.  that wasn't support or logistical vessels was composed almost entirely of casemate ironclads designed for one of three very specified roles: riverine, coastal and harbour defense.

Senator Garth, had recognized that the Navy lacked any real deep water force: it's largest casemate ironclads while powerful in their own right, were only capable of limited to moderate deep water operations, that could successfully carry a war to a nautical enemy. The Union and Spain being the case in point, when he proposed the highly controversial bill, both countries had powerful navies, and possessed considerable institutional experience of using naval power in all it's forms something the Confederacy was entirely deficient in some respects.

"It's proceeding well, in fact we might be just a bit ahead of schedule in the circumstances." Admiral Page said after a moment. "The heart of the new Atlantic Fleet will be out of dock and running trials by the middle of this year, and ready for duty by December at the earliest."

President Maxey nodded silently, the Atlantic Fleet, which would  augment rather then replace the existing four Atlantic squadrons (which covered the C.S.A.'s coast from Chesapeake Bay, Virginia to the southern tip of Florida) would contain some sixty new vessels being constructed at the various C.S.N. Dockyards and several privates slipways in Norfolk, Charleston and Savannah - seventeen turret battleships, sixteen armoured cruisers, sixteen torpedoboat-destroyers and eleven large sea-going torpedoboats. Admiral Page looked both pleased and not a little regretful, he and then Naval Secretary Robert Hubert had shepherded Garth's bill through Congress and the bitter opposition of then President Toombs and worked out the mountain of attendant details needed to implement it, and now Page was retiring - he would be eighty-two this December - from active service just as the ten year program was coming to fruition.

Nation States of An Age of Steam, Steel and Iron: Part Six

South America: 1889

Brazil, ruled by Emperor Pedro II, once a colony of the Kingdom of Portugal, which unique amoung the countries of South America won it's freedom and independence from it's mother country peacefully in 1822. In 1888 Pedro II's government took the unprecedented step of abolishing slavery within the Empire as part of it's ongoing program of internal and political reforms. Many of these reforms, particularly abolition, are opposed by both the Brazilian planter class and Brazilian Liberals in Parliament although they enjoy widespread support amoung the Brazilian people as a whole. The mainstays of the economy are rubber, coffee, bananas and cattle. The export of oil and bauxite have emerged in recent years to augment the largely agricultural character of the Brazilian economy.

Argentina, Brazil's chief rival for dominance of South American affairs, is also at constant loggerheads with Chile over territorial disputes, particularly over Chilean possession of the Cape Horn-Tierra del Fuego region. A similar situation mars Argentinian and British relations with reference to the Falkland Islands.  Argentina once a Spanish possession freed itself from Spanish rule in 1816, although it's current borders were only solidly defined by the 1860s. Argentina's political history has been uneven, since it's founding being frequently marred by internal upheavals, which only settled down in the 1830s and 1850s, followed by a stable period of internal peace and prosperity, with governmental policy being aimed at promoting schools, universities, immigration, railways and communications developments.  Argentine's booming economy, which is considered the foremost in South America, is chiefly fuelled by the export of cattle, silver, grain and oil.

Chile, Achieved it's independence from Spain in 1810, although not formally recognized until 1818. Chile became the most preeminent naval power in South America, with it's very considerable successes in the 'Nitrate War'. This military lead is stubbornly maintained by the Chilean government with each passing year. The country's robust economy is based on copper and saltpeter mining, grain production, cattle products and oil production. Chile's internal peace and harmony is sometimes threatened by a tendency towards revolutionary changes in governments.

Bolivia, Became independent of Spain as part of the Republic of Peru, from which it promptly succeeded, although it was not recognized as an independent state until 1825. Like Peru and Chile, Bolivia was a participant in the 'Nitrate War', which cost Bolivia its coastal province of Atacama and thus all access to the sea. This did not as adversely affect Bolivia's economy as was initially feared due to Bolivia's extensive and inreasingly profitable mining and exportation of tin and silver. To date, Bolivia, maintains the strongest sky fleet both military and merchantile of any of the countries of South America.

Venezuela, Like it's neighbours Colombia and Ecuador, it became independent of Spain in 1811, but opted to join the State of Gran Colombia, which disintegrated as a working country by 1830. Venezuela, consequently reformed itself as a republic with a federalist constitution, which came under threat with the internal conflict termed the Federalist War in 1861-68. Dictatorial rule became the norm for the country after this period. The country's economy has developed towards the widespread cultivation of coffee, cattle and oil products for export.

Colombia, A former Spanish colonial possession, which was once a part of the state of Gran Colombia (the future states of Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela) which was proclaimed in 1819 but disintegrated in 1830. Briefly becoming the United States of Gran Granada, until 1861, whereupon the country became the Republic of Colombia. The country has suffered constant civil wars between unitarians, federalists, liberals and clericals. This situation only stabilized in 1858, when a confederation was agreed upon and finally reformed as a formal republic in 1861, through the intervention of the American Union. Colombia, virtually lost control of the province of Panama, through Imperial French political, financial and military intrigues during the 1850s.  Panama to Colombian chagrin, later declared it's own formal independence in 1871. The country's developing economy is driven by the export of bananas, cattle, coffee and oil.

Peru, The Last former Spanish colony to gain independence, in 1821 Peru immediately fractured into two countries, as Southern Peru, declared it's own independence in 1825 to become the State of Bolivia. Peru was nearly splintered apart by the consequent Civil War of 1842-45.  The national government of Peru increasingly took dictatorial powers both during this conflict and from this period on. The following 'Nitrate War' of 1879-1883 between Peru and Chile, resulted in Peru's defeat which was occasioned by the discovery of widespread saltpeter deposits which had international economic applications both in the production of powerful explosives and agricultural fertilizers. The economy of Peru, is both strongly agricultural and increasingly industrial being based on the export of oil, cattle, grain products, and silver, copper and saltpetre mining

Paraguay, Gaining it's independence from Spain in 1811. Paraguay, particularly under the Lopez family which dominated it's politics and as often as not acted as the country's dictators, attempted to build itself up into a significant power in South American political scene. President F. Solano Lopez, through his excessive territorial ambitions for his country pitched South American into the devastating Paraguayian War in 1865 only ending with Lopez's death in 1870 and the virtual destruction of his country. Paraguay is still recovering from losing over seventy percent of it's population and the destruction of both it's capital city, it's military and economic inferstructures along with many of it's more prosperous towns and villages.

Uruguay, Found itself in the extremely awkward position of being desired by both Brazil and Argentina, even before it was a formal country and being briefly annexed at one time by both countries in 1817 and 1822. Only in 1828 with the Peace of Montevideo, did Uruguay gain it's own independence from it's two larger neighbours. Uruguay found itself the target of it's neighbor Paraguay's territorial ambitions in the 1865-70 Paraguayian War. Uruguay survived the war by allying with Brazil, Bolivia and Argentina. Quietly prosperous, Uruguay's economy is based on acting as a major transfer and storage point for foreign sea and air trade and the local production and export of grain and cattle products.

Ecuador, Once part of Gran Colombia, Ecuador was forced to forge it's own independent path when that country ceased in 1830. While formerly the government emphasized friendly relations with the Roman Catholic Church, current relations - particularly after the assassination of President Moreno - between Ecuadorian liberals and clericals is becoming increasingly hostile. The local economy is geared to large scale cultivation and export of coffee as it staple cash crop.

Acre, A South American republic, which was originally part of Bolivia, which was settled largely by Spanish Bolivians and Portuguese Brazilians immigrants from 1860 onwards. A series of revolts starting in 1863 occurred against Bolivian rule over the region. These revolts largely instigated by the Brazilian immigrants were generally unsuccessful until the Acre Revolutionaries adopted strict military discipline, organization and hired better leaders and built an army of some thirty thousand soldiers, which won battle after battle against the Bolivian Army. The Arcean Republic occupies territory claimed by Peru, Bolivia and Brazil and has been involved in three wars - it's 1863-1883 War of Independence, the 1865-1870 Paraguayan War and the 1879-1883 Nitrate War/Pacific War in order to expand, hold and survive the efforts of the three countries attempts to erase it. The Republic of Arce was not formally recognized by Peru, Brazil and Bolivia until the 1883 Treaty of Cidade do Arce.  The pillar of the Acrean ecomony is large scale rubber cultivation, with subsistence farming and animal husbandry making out the balance.

The Serpent's Isles (Part II)

Both the Imperial Army's and Imperial Navy's steady withdrawal from the Isles bothered Totani, as it did everyone connected with both the garrison and the residents. According to many of the local villagers, a fortress division made up of army infantry, samurai and various fortress, regimental and battalion artillery units had occupied the islands since at least the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate. The Navy had during much the same period, place a third class naval station at Fang Bay with a flotilla of gunboats to patrol the local waters.

Since 1881, various units forming the permanent garrison had been pulled out or reassigned temporally never to return, causing the garrison to steadily dwindle. In 1885 the Navy had pulled out all but one of the gunboats and reduced the naval station to the barest minimum. Only a handful of steam launches and their crews remained to perform routine patrol amidst the isles or check the papers and cargo manifests of visiting vessels. Only a few scattered artillery companies and one field battalion of mixed regular infantry and samurai companies remained in place, under a major of the artillery Oda Mitsuru, to hold all the isles in the Emperor's name. The beginning of 1889 was not shaping up to be a good year for the garrison, as still more cuts to the establishment were rumoured to be contemplated by the Imperial Government.

Totani shook off these grim thoughts, as the heavily bearded, burly Ainu waved an arm towards her in cheery greeting. Akagi Tomi, was like her a Go-cho in the infantry branch of the Imperial Garrison, born and raised like herself in the Hokkaido Prefecture of Japan and as he admitted to her on one occasion, good for nothing but the army, fishing and drinking. Totani liked him for his rough good sense, good humour and his candor. His Ainu name she did not know nor did he confide it to anyone outside his own family or extended clan. Like many Ainu and Lemurians he had taken a Japanese name to accommodate the dictates of the Imperial Government, and learned to read and speak the Japanese language, and patiently observed Japanese customs that were not his own, although he remained just as intractably fluent in his native dialect and still faithfully followed many of his people's ancient customs. Joto-hei Sasaki Sata, was a Lemurian, and as different in looks and background as Totani and Akagi were to each other despite both coming from the same part of Japan.

First of all, Sasaki, was not human, she was a Lemurian Draconian one of the two non-human species the other being the Lemurian Snake-Folk, to inhabit the islands of Lemuria and Mu within the Japanese Empire. Standing easily six feet tall, she fairly towered over both sturdy Ainu and slender Japanese alike. Her features suggested both the reptilian and the human strangely mixed together, in her case rather alluringly. She had a pleasing oval face, full lipped with a delicate chin, high cheekbones and deep, lustrous almondine eyes. Sasaki's eyes were by contrast to any human eyes however cool and alien, being slitted like a cat's and a glittering topez in colour, her skin was a rich jewel tone green set off by her neck length jet black hair.


Note: (1) Joto-hei, IJA rank for a lance-corporal in the 1880s or superior private by the 1930s. (2) A 3rd class naval station, was a naval post or anchorage that could refuel and resupply naval vessels in most particulars but was only capably of very limited repairs or engineering services. Such a base generally wasn't capable of constructing major warships, although building small craft like steam or motor launches, gunboats or gunvessels might just be within it's means.

The Serpent's Isles (Part I)

Go-cho Totani Tayo, walked along the rough cut stone pathway on her way to the Green Lagoon's defensive batteries to collect the morning reports, the balmy early morning sea breeze caused her long black hair to stream out with the wind from under her service cap. The sun was just making it's way lazily up over the horizon the same way it seemed to every day since she'd been posted here. The Serpent's Isles were not much to look at really, being an irregular clump of palm forest and jungle covered mountainous volcanic islands and atolls coiled around two deep water lagoons and an equally deep water bay hedged by jagged coral reefs and sandy beaches. The name of the place came from it's overall shape, which from the air suggested the look of an open mouthed serpent half coiled back upon itself.

The isles, had been inhabited on and off over the centuries, Totani knew from that from both her history books and first hand knowledge. The signs were to be found all over the islands, the place had been visited by the Ainu, Polynesians, Chinese and Lemurians of ancient times and all of them had settled here. Although none it seemed had stayed in possession or prospered for long if they did. Totani's dark brown eyes surveyed the distant horizon, out across the foaming waters capping the reefs, the sun glintered off the endless waves of the Pacific. These islands were a lonely spot amidst the endless water, the islands of the Japanese Empire themselves were barely visible even on a clear day from the mountain tops. The Serpent's Isles stood like a lonely sentry out beyond a fortress gate. A sentinel was what the islands were: taken by force from the Wako, the dreaded pirates of Asian waters during the first Oda Shogunate, and then held against them thereafter.

The Nests of the Red Serpent, the pirate folk of the Lemurian snake-men had tried to retake the isles to use as a permanent privateering and slaving base during the Toyatomi Shogunate and they had succeeded for a time before imperial forces under the Tokugawa Shogunate had won the isles back and purged the vile Nests. Totani felt herself shuddering despite the heat of the day, there were still spots on these isles that spoke of that old carnage; areas of sprawling ruins, fire blacked, broken stone and crumbling wooden timbers, creeping vines and jungle undergrowth wrapped around and through rusting weapons and armour. Sometimes decaying bones were visible, a half hidden skulls of inhuman origin leered from the vegetation or watched mournfully with darkened eyeless sockets. These places, mercifully few now, were shunned by both the Japanese soldiers and sailors of the garrison and the small communities of Japanese and European fishermen, whalers and petty merchants and their families that resided both seasonally and semi-permanently in the isles.

These days the place was a quiet outpost of the Empire used sometimes as a victualing, watering and coaling station by ships making a passage to the distant Midway islands and still more distant Hawaiian and North American shores. The islands yielded fresh water, tropical fruit and vegetables in some abundance and there was enough wild game and fishing to top off any visiting ship's onboard supplies. Certainly they served the Imperial Army garrison;'s needs sufficiently, that a military supply ship only needed to show up once or twice every few months.

The Soryu Battery, a roughly circular pillar of living volcanic rock and coral some eighty feet high loomed on the horizon. It stood just inside and to one side of the entrance of the smaller of the two atoll lagoons, called by the locals the Green Lagoon. Its name referred to both it's relative shallowness and the resultant colour of it's waters, the place made a suitable protected anchorage for seagoing junks, larger sailing sampans and European seagoing sailing craft of moderate size. The larger windjammers, clippers and steamships typically used either the Blue Lagoon or Fang Bay, both of which had deeper and wider entrances and greater depths within their confines. The Hiryu Battery stood on the other side of the lagoon entrance and between them, they effectively covered both the lagoon's mouth and it's relatively spacious interior. Hiryu was built upon a roughly triangular ledge of rock nearly forty feet high surrounded by coral reefs at it's base. Almost an island in itself, it was reached by a long causeway that traced along the top of the atoll that encircled the lagoon and a short bridge.

Totani saw a tall Lemurian and a heavily bearded Ainu stride down an adjoining path that emerged from the hillsides to her left, she picked up her pace to meet them.


Note: (1) Go-chu is the Imperial Japanese Army rank of roughly equivalent to a full corporal or junior sergeant. Historically the non-commissioned and lower ranks of the IJA were in a state of flux at various time from the 1880s to the 1940s. (2) Japanese names in this story are given under the traditional Japanese style/convention: that is family name first, followed by personal name.