Also — the fact that he would be reviving the Irish revolutionary movement at the same time would only be of aid. Anything that discomfited the British could only help the war effort.

Mine enemy’s enemies, once again.

John Ericsson never had an instant’s doubt about the reliability of any ship that he built. There would certainly be minor problems with any new design, like the tiller cables on his Monitor. This was to be expected and experience had proven that a short test cruise was all that would ever be needed. Virginia was no exception. She had sailed from the new shipyard at Newport News into the calm waters of Hampton Roads, then out into the Atlantic beyond. Ericsson’s faith in his ship been correct; only minor difficulties had been found and they were quickly put right. The asbestos lagging on the steam pipes had to be reinforced, where it ran through the compartments below the gun turrets. Pieces of it had been broken off exposing the hot pipes inside. Now the lagging was patched and covered with thick wood. Ericsson had hoped he would not have to run the steam pipes from the boiler room below, but he still had not completed the designs on his Carnot engine.

Even as this final work was being done the supplies of food for the men, the powder and shot for the guns, were already being put aboard.

Ericsson was on the bridge of the ship, coat thrown aside as he made the final adjustments on a machine of his own invention. A mechanical telegraph that would convey instructions from the captain to the engine room.

“Mr. Ericsson, might I disturb you?”

A growled oath was his only reply as the engineer tightened the thin chain over the cogwheel, that was attached to the ship’s telegraph mechanism. Only after it had been done to his satisfaction did Ericsson bolt on the cover plate and climb to his feet, rubbing the grease from his hands onto a wad of cotton waste. His works manager, Garret Davis, stood there, nervous as usual, a naval officer at his side. The man was quite tall and sported an elegant flared mustache.

“This is Captain Raphael Semmes,” Davis said.

“That name is familiar,” Ericsson said. First offering his hand — then drawing it back when he saw how grease-stained it was.

“During the past hostilities I had the privilege of commanding the CNN Alabama. Perhaps that—”

“Yes, of course. I do remember. A fine ship that you made good use of during the last war. What did the newspapers call her? Ja — the shark of the Confederacy.”

The British-built commerce raider had cut a wide swath through the Union merchant fleet during the War Between the States.

“Where is she now, your shark?”

“Laid up, sir. She’s getting new engines, more guns, some armor and such, I do believe. But, as attached as I am to her, I am more interested in the new ironclads that you are building. I must admit that I pulled some strings, right from Jefferson Davis on down. I pointed out that the new navy must contain officers from the South as well as the North.”

“A forceful argument,” Ericsson said, looking at his hands, then throwing the filthy cotton waste aside. “Were you successful in your quest?”

“I think so. I am to command your USS Virginia here.”

“That is wonderful news indeed. May I congratulate you on your new command — of the mightiest ironclad afloat. Come with me. As soon as I cleanse my hands I will shake yours. Then I will show your around the ship.”

Ericsson was as good as his word, leading the way below decks to the engine room where the gigantic steam engine seemed to fill most of the space.

“The largest and most powerful engine ever constructed,” Ericsson said proudly. “My own design, of course. Four cylinders — no other engine was ever built with four cylinders. You will also notice that the steam is recycled at a lower pressure. My design and that was also never done before. The gun turrets — you must see them.”

They entered the bow turret by the armored hatch in its rear. Semmes looked at the guns with awe.

“Their size — I can’t believe that they are mounted on a ship!”

“It was not easy to do — but I did it. Twelve-inch guns that will hurl an explosive shell for five miles. Breech-loading, as you see. You will notice also the pneumatic shock absorbers at their base. Also my invention, of course.” Ericsson pointed to the cylinders on both sides of the guns. “When the gun fires the recoil drives these pistons into these cylinders. The air is compressed and slows the gun down as the compressed air escapes through these orifices. Now here is the ingenious part. Once the gun has reached its limit of travel these valves are closed, once the compressed air has been released — and steam is let into the cylinder. In a sense you have a vertical steam engine. So, with great ease, and no human labor, the cannon is once more pushed forward into firing position.”

It was almost an hour later when Ericsson and Semmes emerged on deck again, both begrimed and oily from their tour through the ship — but blissfully unaware of their condition. Semmes grabbed the Swedish inventor’s hand in both of his.

“Sir — you are a genius, I do declare. This ship is a work of art, a construct of incredibly fine design, a warship of impregnable strength — and I am the proudest man in the world that I have been permitted to be her first commander. Thank you, sir — thank you!”

“I am most glad you like her,” Ericsson said, almost with the tiniest touch of humility. But not for long. “You are right, it is a machine of great genius that only I could have built.”

Less than two weeks later the Virginia dropped anchor in the harbor of Vera Cruz. Captain Semmes stepped out onto the flying bridge, smelled the hot, moist air. Smoke and decay. A mixture of city and jungle. The harbor seemed filled with ships, more than twenty of them at a rough guess. There were both three-masters and steamships. Two armored paddle wheelers were inside the harbor, close to the ships tied up at the wharves there. Further out to sea another group of ships were at anchor. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see that the Secretary of State had joined him on the bridge.

“Good morning, Mr. Seward.”

“And good morning to you, Captain. I must thank you again for waiting in port with this fine vessel until I could board her. Not only have I reached my destination with speed and comfort — but I now have first-hand knowledge of our navy. I feel great pride now in this navy, tremendous.”

“It was my pleasure to have you aboard, sir.”

“Mine as well. Now that I have seen life aboard an ironclad I appreciate ever the more the sailors who defend our country. Your ship is like nothing I have sailed on before. More of an engine or a seagoing machine, so different from the wooden sailing ships she replaces.”

“You were uncomfortable?”

“Not at all. Impressed really, for I do believe that traveling in her is like traveling into the future. I do admit that at first the sound of the engine was disturbing, but I soon became used to it. It was a small price to pay for the speed and comfort of the voyage. In peacetime — will there be iron ships like this one in peacetime? Carrying passengers across the oceans of the world?”

“There will indeed!” the captain said with enthusiasm. “No longer prone to the vagaries of the wind, fast — even luxurious. More like hotels at sea rather than creaking and slow sailing craft. Steamships are the craft of the future — you can take my word on that.”

“I do indeed.” Seward turned towards the rail and saw that a small steam launch was coming around the bow of the larger steamship and was headed towards them. The stars and stripes flapped from the stern jackstaff, while standing on her bow was a man semaphoring with two flags.