It also surprised him that, while its inhabitants were technically British, he held no animosity towards them. Nor were they particularly upset at him. It was easy to see that they had no say in the affairs of state that had led to the famine and other disasters in Ireland. The Canadians were also immigrants who'd left Great Britain because of injustices or lack of opportunity in the mother country. Nor did it surprise him that the Canadians now wanted more of a say in their own affairs. That seemed to be the curse of Britain's empire and it suited Attila just fine. That the Canadians stopped short of demanding total independence was their business. Ireland, however, must be free. Totally free.
And that was the important word: free. 'Patrick,” he said, “what say you to an Irish Free State?”
“First of all,” said General Patrick Ronayne Cleburne, “it's 'General,' not Patrick. I've never given anyone like you permission to call me by my first name. Second, what the devil are you talking about?”
Flynn was not put off by Cleburne's attitude. There were days when the general liked him very little and other days when the general liked him not at all. The man resented the fact that he'd been made a pawn in Flynn's schemes, even though the last of them had resulted in his life being saved. Ah, well. So much for gratitude.
“Dear General, I was thinking of proclaiming an Irish Free State in Ontario. The United States would recognize and protect us, and it would drive the British absolutely mad. Perhaps you would be the first president?”
Cleburne snorted. “If so, then my first act would be to have you shot.”
“Then you would be squandering my talents,” Flynn said equably. “But just think. We Irish are tolerated, but not truly accepted, in the United States. We fight for the Union, but the nicer folks in New York and Boston really want little to do with us. Why not establish our own country in Canada and let those who wish migrate from the United States and elsewhere to it? The land here is marvelously prosperous, and so much of it is still uncultivated. It would also be a haven for future Irish immigrants from the old country. With you and your Irish Legion, we could defend ourself against all comers. And don't tell me you wouldn't like to finally fight the British.”
Cleburne conceded the last point. The Irish Legion, now numbering close to fifteen thousand men, had fired but a few shots in anger against the retreating British. Worse, it was rumored that there would be no great advance along Lake Ontario to Kingston and up the St. Lawrence. The British, contrary to commonly held belief in the Irish Legion, were not stupid, and had brought their own armored steamers into the lake. The American flotilla had been reinforced, but the British presence meant that the naval issue was very much in doubt, and to march along the Canadian side of the lakeshore was a great distance. No one had any doubt that it would occur, but not in the near future.
“I will not change allegiances again,” said Cleburne. “I left England of my own accord and left the Confederacy to satisfy my conscience as well as save my life. But you tricked me into rejoining the United States. I am, however, well satisfied with what has occurred and have changed my mind: I will not shoot you if I ever do have the authority, merely have you flogged to death.”
“Your kindness makes me weep,” said Flynn.
“Hear me, Flynn. I will not change allegiances again, not even for Ireland.”
“Then I will not ask you to. Besides, it is quite likely that Mr. Lincoln would permit no such thing as an Irish Republic in Canada. Let's face it, General. We're little less than nothing in the grand schemes of great powers. We can only hope and wiggle and maneuver for the best.”
But, Flynn thought, what if Britain thought that there might be an Irish Republic forming in Canada? What would that provoke it to do? Would it be better or worse for the cause of Ireland? He would have a drink and think on it. Let Cleburne lead his Legion. Attila Flynn had better things to do.
Prime Minister Lord Palmerston stared at the map on the wall. “With what ease we believe what we wish,” he mused.
“Dryden,” said Lord Russell, correctly identifying the seventeenth-century poet as the source of the quote. “Just don't ask me which of his works. I don't recall.”
Palmerston chuckled softly. “Nor do I. It's just a saying that pops up in my mind every so often.”
“And for what reason?” asked Russell. “Are you saying that we have fooled ourselves?” It wouldn't be the first time, he thought.
“Perhaps we have.”
“Then should we exit the war?”
“Not at this time,” said Palmerston. “I still think victory is achievable, although I admit it will prove more difficult than I had ever imagined. To my chagrin, the Confederacy is a frailer reed than I'd thought. They are strong and tough, and certainly brave enough, but they lack the numbers to take the battle to the Union; thus, they rely on an aggressive defense to keep the Union away. As a result, although they cannot lose the war with that strategy, we cannot win it. Consequently, we have a dilemma.”
“We've both won and lost” Russell said, “when we truly thought we’d only win. Canada is virtually gone. One more Union advance and our presence in North America will solely consist of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia.”
The thought was more than upsetting. Less than a century ago. England was the absolute master of North America, with only impotent Spain holding any territory. Now, England was on the verge of becoming a footnote on the continent. Small American forces had reached the Russians in Alaska, totally sealing off any western approach to Canada, and with the Great Lakes now basically American waters, access to the interior could only be through Hudson Bay, which was icebound for much of the year. Fortunately, there was very little in the interior of Canada that could be thought of as civilization. And the American victories in Canada had totally cowed the Indians, thus removing a potential thorny problem for the United States.
There had been some gains for England. The powerful but slow American steam sloops of war were being picked off one by one by larger, faster, and more numerous British vessels. Now it was estimated that only a couple roamed the oceans, and their capture or destruction was only a matter of time. Lesser American commerce raiders were also being taken at a considerable rate. After much hesitation, the Royal Navy was definitely in position to say that Britannia did indeed rule the waves.
“I still hold that we must win this year.” said Palmerston. “Our European cousins are ready to profit at our expense if this drags on too long. Russia is already covertly helping the Americans. Lord knows what information and promises their ambassador in Washington, the duplicitous Baron Edward de Stoeckl, has made and provided, but you can be assured that they will not be helpful to our cause.”
“And the Prussians are restive,” Russell added. “With Bismarck as prime minister, they'll begin wars, I'm afraid, to achieve their aims of unifying Germany. It may take them a couple of decades, but they will doubtless succeed and then look elsewhere. We, of course, will be that elsewhere.”
Palmerston nodded. “But it is France that concerns me. Granted, she is up to her neck in Mexico, thanks to the Union's support of the rebels, but she may be our next immediate threat when she disengages from North America.”
“You believe France will lose in Mexico?”
“Absolutely.” Palmerston replied. “Then she will be fixated on us as in the past. She will forget that we were allies in the Crimea and begin maneuvering against us. Perhaps she will ally herself with Prussia. We must never forget that France is our traditional enemy.
“But let us return to our immediate problem, the Confederacy,” Palmerston said. “I am amazed that anyone gave serious thought to the theory that the Southern states would wish to return to the bosom of Mother England.”