Cleburne did some recruiting in New York, but with only limited success, as Meagher's Irish Brigade had been there first. He did_: however, cause a number of Irish already in the Irish Brigade to desert and enlist with him under assumed names. This infuriated Meagher and the other officers of the Brigade, who protested, but to no avail.

While Cleburne personally drummed up troops in Philadelphia and Boston, Attila Flynn sent Fenians to the various Union prisons. While many Confederate Irish were less than thrilled at serving the Union after their harsh treatment as prisoners, a number saw that fighting the English as a free man was a lot better than rotting and starving as a Union prisoner. A few who weren't Irish at all tried to convince Flynn's associates that they were, and some of these were accepted.

The most fertile area for recruiting was Boston. Not only did the city have a large number of rabidly anti-British Irish, but the British had bombarded the town, killed civilians, and destroyed the livelihoods of those people who had just emigrated to the new world in hopes of bringing themselves up from the abject poverty of the old. In civilian life, Cleburne had been a lawyer and had developed some skill as an orator, which further helped convince recruits to join him.

Within a couple of weeks, Brigadier General Cleburne had a Legion that stood at just over seven thousand eager but untrained souls, with more clamoring to join. Wisely, he determined that what he had was all he could cope with at the moment. He would add more later. Equally wisely, he took them well into western Massachusetts and away from the taverns and other temptations of Boston for their training.

Attila Flynn sat under the shade of a tree and watched Cleburne's recruits march and maneuver. They were a ragged group, but nowhere near as disorganized and confused as they had been when they first started. Most seemed to understand the difference between their right and left feet. Cleburne walked over and squatted on the ground beside him. Flynn turned and grinned.

“A fine sight, isn't it, General? All of these wonderful young men ready to fight against Victoria and her brutish minions.”

“I have to admit it has turned out much better than I thought it would,” Cleburne said. “I will never in my life admit you were right, Flynn, but I find myself most comfortable in command of this Legion of free Irishmen and with its purpose.”

“Perhaps, when it grows large enough, you'll get a second star, mayhap even a third,” Flynn said.

Cleburne laughed. There were no three-star generals in the Union army, although the Confederacy had a couple. Cleburne had often wondered why the smaller of the two combating armies by far had the higher-ranking officers.

Flynn gestured toward the marching ranks. “The men are restive. They want to go north.”

“Soon enough and they'll have their wish, although they may regret it when the Brits start killing them. I have decided that the best way to toughen them and to make them an army is to march them overland to Canada.”

Flynn was surprised. “Surely not all the way to Detroit?” “Hardly,” Cleburne responded with a chuckle. “In a few days we'll march to the Hudson, head north to Albany, and then from Albany to Buffalo. Once we arrive, we'll see what General Grant has in store for us. I'll be leaving a cadre here to recruit and train new soldiers.”

Flynn was intrigued. “You have been in communication with Grant?”

“Possibly.” Cleburne decided to exact a measure of revenge for Flynn's trickery, and he could think of nothing better than his having knowledge that Flynn lacked.

“Will you be there for the battle that is shaping up?” Flynn's voice rose in excitement. The idea of an Irish army fighting England's was almost more than he could stand.

“I doubt it. It'll likely be over before we arrive.”

Flynn sighed. “A shame, a bloody damned shame.”

Cleburne could not help but laugh. “Somehow I don't think it'll be the last battle fought in this war.”

The state of Maryland was one of several places in the Union where a large part of the population was sympathetic to the Confederacy. In the early days of the war there was very real fear that Maryland would secede, which would have left the District of Columbia totally surrounded by a hostile Confederacy. Had such occurred, Washington would likely have been abandoned.

Firm action was taken and Maryland stayed in the Union, with many Confederate sympathizers jailed or otherwise intimidated into discreet silence. As a result, while the Confederacy could count on some support from the population, it did not know how strong that support might be. Content or not, Maryland was firmly in the Union.

The waters off the coast of Maryland and neighboring Virginia were heavily fished, with men from both states sharing the ocean and its bounty, and doing so largely without regard to political problems. The Royal Navy had quickly decided that it was none of their business what the swarms of little boats were up to. For one thing, there were far too many of the boats for the Royal Navy to keep track of, and, for another, much of the delicious seafood that was served in the local taverns and restaurants came from those very fishing boats. If a few crabs and other delicacies made their way to Union plates, then it was a small price to pay.

The men of the fishing smack Orion had other things on their minds than fish or crabs. While they did net and catch fish, it was a cover; they were far more interested in what lay on the ocean floor than what might be caught in their nets or traps.

All of the small crew were Union navy men and two were deep-sea divers. The divers were used to going underwater in bulky helmets and waterproof leather suits, and searching along the bottom for treasure. In this case the treasure they sought was the telegraphic cable recently laid by England from Canada to Norfolk.

As the Royal Navy warship and cable-layer Agamemnon had worked her way southward, curious eyes on the shore had watched as the British ship inched her way ever closer to shore in an attempt to save time and shorten the cable. Those same curious eyes had tried to estimate just where the cable was and in water of what depth. They had pegged her passage between two buoys that narrowed the search even more.

Even with good information, it was still like looking for a thread in a large and very wet haystack. The men of the Orion had been at it for several weeks with little to show for it except sunburns and some extra money from the sale of their catch. They couldn't work all the time at searching. They were at the mercy of the weather, which could churn the ocean floor into muck, and of other fishing boats, which could not be permitted to see the diver going overboard or returning from his searches.

Captain Seth Dawson of the Orion came from a fishing family that was well familiar with the waters off Maryland's coast. Thus it was logical for the twenty-year veteran of the U.S. Navy to be assigned the task of finding the cable and confusing the Confederates. His real rank in the navy was bosun and he enjoyed having an independent command. He had been staring at the buoy that marked the divers present location for so long that he had a headache. It was with a start that he realized that the buoy had been moved and that the diver was jerking on the line.

“Jesus,'^: Dawson muttered. A few moments later, the diver popped to the surface. His helmet was removed, and the young Italian immigrant named Guido smiled happily.

“I found it,” Guido said.

“I was beginning to think it was a flight of someone's fancy,” laughed Dawson as they hauled Guido aboard.

Other crewmen helped Guido belowdecks and, once out of sight, out of his diving suit. “Now what?” Guido asked.