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“Them’s our guns, General,” one of the soldiers cried out.

“They are indeed,” Sherman said. “They are indeed.”

This was the first day of the Battle of Shiloh. The carnage was incredible. Despite their mounting losses the Confederate advance continued, slow and deadly. It wasn’t until five-thirty in the afternoon that the Union left was finally penetrated — but by then it was too late. General Grant had managed to establish a defensive line, studded with cannon, just before Pittsburg Landing. With the help of cannon fire from the gunboats tied up at the landing the last Confederate attack was thrown back. As this was happening Grant’s defenders were reinforced by the fresh troops of Don Carlos Buell who began to arrive on the other bank of the river.

The Confederate forces were bloodied and exhausted and no match for the strengthened Northern divisions.

The counterattack began the next day at dawn and by afternoon all of the lost ground had been recaptured.

If there was any victor in this carnage it had to be the North. They were now reinforced and back in their original defensive positions — but the cost had been terrible. There were 10,700 Confederate casualties, including their commander General Johnston, who had been shot and had bled to death because the doctor who might have saved him was treating the Union wounded. 13,000 Union troops were dead as well. Despite the courage, despite the sacrifices and the dead, the South had proved itself incapable of breaking out of the ring of steel that was closing around them.

Grant and Sherman were the heroes of the day. Sherman who had held the line despite his personal injuries and the terrible losses his troops had suffered.

“He must be rewarded for his bravery,” Lincoln said when he had read the final reports of the battle. “John, get a letter to the War Department and tell them that I strongly recommend that Sherman be promoted to major general, in acknowledgment of his bravery and strength of command. Talent like this should not go unacknowledged. And have the promotion dated back to April seventh, the day the battle was fought.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do that at once. Will you be able to see Gustavus Fox now?”

“By all means. Show him in.”

Assistant Secretary of the Navy Gustavus Fox was a very talented man. He was familiar with the White House because Lincoln’s secretaries lived across the hall from the President’s office and he was a frequent visitor there. This apparent socializing provided an unquestioned cover for his visits. For Gustavus Fox had authority and commissions that only those in the highest echelon of government knew anything about.

“Good morning, Gus. Do you have any reports of interest to me?” the President asked.

“A good deal since last we met. My agents in Canada and the British West Indies have been quite diligent.”

“Is one of them Captain Schultz of the Russian Navy?”

Lincoln’s smile was mirrored on Fox’s face. “Not this time, Mr. President — he is busy elsewhere. But before I report on the British — I must tell you that my trip to Brooklyn was a great success. After the victory of the Monitor in Hampton Roads, and the navy’s agreement to put more money into iron warships, Mr. Ericsson was more than eager to proceed. Construction on the second Monitor-class ironclad is proceeding as planned. Very smoothly in fact since the ironworkers are now experienced with this particular kind of construction. Ericsson is now devoting his time to improving the design and construction of a larger iron ship with two turrets. Much more seaworthy and with greater range. The man is a demon for work — the keel was laid that very day for the USS Thor”

“I doubt that the navy will approve of a pagan deity in their fleet.”

“They didn’t. They withheld their first payment until Thor went back to Valhalla and Avenger emerged

in his place.”

He took a sheet of paper from an inner pocket and unfolded it. His secret agents in the field had been busy indeed. Here were the names and strengths of the regiments of British troops newly arrived in Canada, as well as the number of guns unloaded on the docks of Montreal.

The President looked grim. “That sounds like a powerful lot of soldiers to be sending over here.”

“More than an army corps. And I have some reports that more are on the way, but I haven’t confirmed them yet. The British Navy has been busy too.”

He read from the list of navy warships based in the British West Indies, as well as giving an account of newly arrived reinforcements to the marines also based there. The President never asked who the men and women were who sent in these reports, while Fox never volunteered the information. If a report was doubtful, or possibly false, he would say so. The rest of the information had always proven to be correct.

“You are my eyes and ears,” Lincoln said. “I wish that you could find a way to convince Mr. Pinkerton that your reports are far more reliable than those furnished by his agents in the South.”

“I have tried many times, in roundabout ways, but he is a very stubborn man.”

“General McClellan believes in him.”

“General McClellan also believes in the inflated figures for Southern troops that Pinkerton comes up with. The real number is a third, at most a half of what he reports.”

“But McClellan remains sure that the numbers are correct and once more finds a reason to avoid action. But he is my responsibility and not yours. So, tell me — what conclusions do you draw from all these facts about the British that you have just presented?”

Fox thought carefully before he spoke, summoning up his conclusions. “The country is preparing for war in North America. They have the men, the weapons, the supplies and the ships to wage a major war on this continent. Most important of all is the fact that there are no voices of dissent. The newspapers call for war to teach us a lesson. Whigs and Tories unite in Parliament baying for blood. The Queen now believes it as a certainty that we killed Prince Albert.”

“Certainly that is absurd.”

“To us perhaps. But I am reliably informed that there is worry about her sanity, that she has sudden vicious obsessions that she cannot control.”