“We could have used their wise judgement. Unhappily we must do without. Who else?”

“Since the possible invasion that is being planned will be by sea, perhaps the Secretary of the Navy should be at the meeting as well.”

“Very good. See that Welles joins us on the behalf of our seagoing forces. Let me know when they have been assembled. In the meantime I have much other work to do.”

Hay poked his head around the door and Lincoln looked up from the mountain of paperwork before him.

“You wanted to be notified as soon as the Mexican party arrived.”

“I did indeed,” Lincoln said, happily pushing the papers away from him. “Let’s get over there.”

When the President entered the flag-draped conference room the others were already assembled there. Secretary Stanton made the introductions, first to Ambassador Matias Romero, a thin, dark-skinned, dark-haired man with gray hair at his temples.

“President Juarez, unhappily, does not speak English. If you would permit I will translate for him.”

Romero lifted his hand and Benito Juarez came forward. He was a small and unprepossessing man in a black suit and black tie. His skin was very dark and he had the typical high cheekbones and square nose of a Zapotec Indian from Oaxaca. He looked most commonplace — but Lincoln knew that this was the man who had led the Liberals to victory in the last election and who had united all of Mexico.

“It is my pleasure to greet you,” Lincoln said, “as the leader of our sister republic to the south. And to help you, if possible, in your continuing battle against the usurpers who occupy your country.”

Romero translated as Juarez spoke.

“I, all of us, appreciate your aid. This so-called emperor, this foreign prince forced upon us by the French armies, has attacked the rights of others. He has seized our goods, assaulted the lives of those who defend our nationality, who makes of these virtues crimes, and his own vices a virtue. But there is one thing beyond the reach of such perversity — the tremendous judgement of history.”

Lincoln nodded agreement. “Well said, Mr. President. But I would like to give history a helping hand if that is at all possible.” He looked around. “Now has anyone here any idea of how that can best be done?”

“We discussed it in some depth before you arrived,” Stanton said. “I believe that General Sherman is the one most versed in these matters.”

Sherman had been staring at the map of Mexico that had been mounted on an easel. His cold eyes, like those of a bird of prey, seeing into the future. Seeing the movement of men and machines. Seeing death.

“The French, Belgian and Austrian troops have occupied all of the large cities. Here, here and here. As well as all of the smaller cities if they are of any strategic value. While the Mexican armies have all been destroyed, the guerrillero bands are still active in these mountains and jungles. These are men who know the country and know how to fight in it. What I propose to do is to supply them with modern rifles and ammunition — and as many cannon as we can get to them through Texas. Once they are armed they will push south. I see no reason why they should not be able to vanquish the French in the field. If the enemy makes a stand in any cities on the way, the cannon will drive them out. As the new army sweeps south it will gain men from the guerrilleros along the way. So, the situation will be such that it will be the direct opposite of the usual attacking force, in that it will gain strength as it advances, instead of growing weaker and weaker as it would normally do through attrition.”

Juarez said something to Romero who nodded, then spoke.

“The president says that he will write letters to the various commanders that will be encountered on the way, so they will know that they are fighting in his cause and that of Mexico. He also says that the men in the mountains are poor — and very hungry. If they could receive some money as well as the guns they will be able to carry the war to the enemy.”

“That will surely be done,” Lincoln said. “But what of those British troops in the south? How can we reach them?”

“I have talked to Mr. O’Higgins,” Sherman said. “He assures me that the men now in the Oaxaca mountains will be able to take care of that. He has volunteered to contact their leader, Porfirio Diáz. I sincerely hope that it will be possible for him to accomplish this mission.”

“Diáz will do it,” Juarez said. “If any man in the world can do it — he is the one who can.”

“Good,” Lincoln said. “But what will our army be doing while all these battles are going on? Surely our efforts to supply the Mexicans in the north of their country is a magnanimous one and will enable them to drive out the French. But what of the south, in Oaxaca? To me it looks very much like we are asking the fighters there to pull our chestnuts out of the fire. I imagine this British invasion is doing them no harm at the present time. And when the British leave, or are driven out, why they will leave a nice little road behind. Surely our own army can do something to combat the invasion.”

“They certainly can, Mr. President,” General Sherman said. “I have given it much thought. As soon as the present operation is organized and set into motion I shall have the plan in your hands.”

“I look forward to reading it, General. But for now — all aid to the Mexican fighters. And the beginning of the expulsion of the invaders.”

Only a few white puffs of cloud hung in the still, pale sky over Belfast. The air still held a touch of winter in it, but since there was only a light breeze the sun felt warm. Seagulls flapped in great circles above the chimneys, buildings and dockyards of Harland and Wolff. A goodly number of people had assembled by the slipway, dwarfed by the great black form resting there. On the platform, between the crowd and the newly built ship, stood the shipyard’s shipbuilder and spokesman, Edward Harland. Splendidly turned out in a dark wool suit and shining, tall silk hat.

“And in conclusion…” he said, which remark was greeted with a sigh of relief, for he had been talking for a good half an hour. “In conclusion, I wish to thank all here who have constructed this leviathan of the deep. It is through your works and your skill that we can behold this mighty vessel that will very soon join the Royal Navy. Those who sail in her will bless you for your skill and your tenacity. For you who have labored to build the guardian of Britain, the pride of our navy, the mightiest ship of war that the world has ever seen, you must be swelled with pride at what you have attained. No other ship has armor as weighty, nor guns as mighty, nor engines so powerful that they can match hers. This is more than a ship, more than an insensate construct of iron. This is the pride and the strength of Great Britain and the Empire. This is the ship that will guard our bastions. A ship that will show the flag in foreign parts right around the world. You have built more than a ship. You have built history. Take pride in what you have done, for you have labored industriously and well.”

He took a deep breath and bowed in the direction of the royal viewing box.

“I now surrender this ship to the able and noble hands of Her Majesty the Queen.”

There was a murmur through the crowd as the last of his speech was made; a flutter of applause from the stand where the silk-hatted and bonneted gentry sat. Stretched out on both sides were the crowds of flat-capped workers who had built this behemoth. Now there was louder applause, and some shouts of approval, as the tiny black-garbed figure stepped forward to the rail.

Queen Victoria looked at the massive iron bow before her and nodded approval. The Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, was at her side. Splendid in his dress uniform, chest twinkling with medals, great ostrich plumes adorning his lustrous hat. One of his aides passed him the magnum of champagne that hung from the line secured to the jackstaff on the bow of the ship above. The sound of sledge hammers on wood sounded below as the first restraining baulks were hammered free.