CSS Appomattox: A Thomas Devareaux Alternative History Military Adventure (The Thomas Sumter Devareaux Series Book 1)

by Chris Stoesen

  "For honorable service in the face of enemy fire, you have been awarded the Southern Cross Third Class. Flag Officer Jefferson wanted to put you in for the Order in First Class but I do not think that is appropriate as you will surely be censured by Captain Jackson for disobeying the letter of your orders and engaging the German fleet a second time. The official censure will be applied to your records, of course, but the award should go a long way to offsetting any damage to your career. Jackson is well connected in Richmond and will be livid when he learns of your actions. He is not in favor of new things and will gain in rank and become a thorn in your side. You have many more years of service ahead of you young man. You need to learn to be more careful in the future."

  The CNO’s advice seemed contradictory to some degree. But as such a senior officer, he did not feel the need to explain himself to the very junior Devareaux. The conversation had no further revelations. The potential impact to his future career was a burden that pressed down upon him. After the meeting concluded, the Head of Airship Development, James Ellison Patrick and the young engineer pulled him aside for another meeting. Patrick began speaking. The words were reassuring, but the expression never had the softness to match the words. Maybe he was just a cranky man.

  "Do not fear Captain Jackson too much. He is an idiot. Well connected, but an idiot. I made sure that your citation gave credit to Jackson so he ended up looking good. That should help. What I want is your opinion of the Appomattox and what can be done to improve her combat effectiveness. Tell me, what are your thoughts on the airship?"

  It was a heavy question. One that a career minded officer knew was loaded with alligators of all stripes. The two men stared intently at him. He took a deep breath before answering.

  "She is a fine airship sir. She performed admirably. The new rebreathers that have been developed will increase our combat effectiveness exponentially."

  There, he managed a response that should make them happy. Instead Patrick's face fell. He turned to the engineer and said in a quiet angry voice.

  "I thought you said we could trust him to be honest."

  Before Patrick could continue, Devareaux understood what was actually happening.

  "Sir, I am sorry. I now understand what you are asking about. The Winans Batteries are not ideal for airship combat. With the rotating mounts they can do good service, but are a bit short ranged. We have to be too close with the enemy to use them. Extending an effective range out to past 1000 yards would greatly increase our survivability. The rocket batteries are the best weapon the ship mounts. Growing the battery to have three to four launching troughs would vastly increase our firepower. But they are of limited accuracy and range.”

  Barely taking a breath, he continued on.

  “The ship is inadequately armored against our primary opponent's weapons. Once the enemy figures out a gun that can shoot upwards and is not restricted to its bow, stern and sides of their ships, the effectiveness of this class of airship will be greatly reduced. The rebreathers give us a great advantage as we can fly above the current enemy airships. But that won't last. The sails have not proven to be a huge bonus, but we have also not taken severe engine damage yet where they would prove their worth. Again, having the portable rebreathers will enable a sail tending crew to be able to operate at altitude. Currently, our enemies steam recoil cannons can far outrange us. One of the German airships figured out it could roll to be able to engage us even though we were at a much greater altitude than it was.”

  Devareaux noted that both men were quickly taking notes on every word he said. Whytherspoon in particular had the face of a man searching to solve a problem. Patrick too was frowning in concentration. Neither man looked up from their notes for a full minute after he had finished talking. Both looked up from their notes and Patrick inclined his head.

  “Go on.”

  Devareaux frowned as well for a moment before talking again.

  “The Appomattox is a good airship, but frailty is any airship’s most significant drawback. Adding armor would make them too heavy. Regardless of the weight of guns or rockets aboard, airships are light combatants. With the wireless sets you are talking about, they can be the eyes of a fleet and provide valuable intelligence. But in the long run, they will never be primary combatants. They cannot carry enough men to land troops to seize ground; they cannot carry enough ammunition to provide prolonged fire support for the same reason. They are not maneuverable enough to avoid enemy fire. In short, they will be a very limited weapon in the long run. Something else will replace them as the new wonder weapon.”

  Patrick finished his notes and smiled at Whytherspoon.

  “You were right; he does speak his mind to the point that he will damage his career one day.”

  Turning to Devareaux, Patrick continued.

  “Thank you for your honesty. I fear you are all too correct. The airship is a novelty weapon. The wireless telegraph will increase its usefulness for a time. We will continue with the modifications to your airship. Its sister ship, the Sharpsburg will be ready in two months’ time. The Department of War is focused on the water bound navy in an attempt to have parity with the Yankees. That is an effort that I do not think we can succeed at. Even with naval yards now in Charleston, Savannah, New Orleans and Houston, we cannot match the output of the Yankees. Our yards are primitive in comparison. We can only afford to commission the largest of our capital ships from Great Britain. The French are not selling to us and the Spanish can’t even meet their own needs.”

  …

  Well, that did not help sort out why he was lying in his own drool on the floor with a black eye. That ended well.

  Almond reached down and helped him up into a chair.

  “How did you get the key to my room?”

  In response, Almond just winked and waggled his fingers knowingly at him. Devareaux’s head hurts so bad that it made no sense what so ever. Then he started to remember again.

  …

  Once he finished talking to Whytherspoon and Patrick, Devareaux had returned to the Bachelors Officers Quarters. As he entered the former hotel, a sailor at the desk stood and asked rather tentatively.

  “Um, sir, are you Lieutenant Devareaux?”

  Being deep in thought, the sailor had to ask a second time before Thomas realized he was being addressed. Upon nodding in the affirmative, the corporal handed him a bundle of mail as well as today’s newspaper.

  Devareaux thanked the young man and proceeded to his room. He glanced and saw that five of the letters were from Ann. Another was from his bank and the last one was a rather fancy envelope. It seems that they had held all of his mail in Savannah to wait on him.

  He sniffed the envelope. Memories of his beloved flooded back to him. The smell of her soap and the light perfume that she wore came back first. Next was the look and feel of her blonde hair. He had never seen her with a single strand out of place. He thought of her delicate pale skin and those lightest of blue eyes that sparkled when she spoke to him. He remembered the gentle pressure of her gloved hand on his arm as he walked with her through the gardens the last time they met.

  In that memory, he was wearing his dress uniform. He bore the newly awarded pilots badge from his airship training on his left breast. He had just been given command of the CSS Appomattox and Devareaux felt on top of the world. He had his love on his arm. These memories flooded back and he could relive every sensation he felt back then in a rush that lingered through his body.

  Shaking the memories from his head he glanced at the newspaper. The lead story in the newspaper was something that Devareaux did not expect to see, 'Gold found in Russian Alaska.'

  The Russian Empire had long since been struggling to look for a buyer for its far flung province in Alaska. The Russians were fearful that they would not be able to hold the property due to their failing relations with Great Britain, especially following the Crimean War. They attempted to convince the United States to purchase the territory and they were in negotiation
s with Secretary of State Seward. In 1869, things looked promising with a draft of the treaty proposed, but the Senate would not approve the treaty with then President Pro Tempore of the Senate Henry B Anthony publicly declared it as Seward's Folly.

  The Russians attempted to repair relations with Great Britain and offered the territory to them at an even more discounted rate but they were not buying either. In the end they hung onto the property. In 1872, the Russian Alaska Partnership for Exploration was formed. The goals of the company were to identify any resources that the Russian Empire could exploit in an attempt to keep the territory profitable.

  The expeditions that were forwarded out by the exploration company were limited to summer months. Several new towns were founded along the coastal areas. The English Language media were quick to jump on the potential of the acronym of the company. But after eight years of no results and consistent losses reported, the project was quickly forgotten. Yet here, was the proof that RAPE was actually doing something profitable. Two years ago, Czar Alexander III had announced the construction of a railway to stretch across all of Russia. This was universally decried as folly. Now it was making some sense.

  He arrived at his door and folded the newspaper back and placed it under his arm. Using his key he opened the door and stepped inside. With a sigh, he continued on to the important things. He placed the newspaper on the counter and began to review the letters.

  He glanced at the post marks from each of Ann’s letters. He opened the oldest first. It was one of her standard letters. She talked about a dress she had made in exhaustive detail. He could probably draw the dress from the description she gave once she had finished. She talked about the parties she attended and the rice yields from this year’s crop. She helped her father extensively with running the financial side of the plantation since her mother had died and her brother was away commanding a garrison in New Mexico. Lastly, she spoke of her friend Ashley. Ashley was older than her and lived in Columbia. If he understood rightly, Ashley was the daughter of some banker in Columbia. She seemed to be an apt companion for Ann as she wrote about her friend often.

  The second letter was more of the same. She described a barge on the Congaree that had caught fire and how it was presumed that it was an organized arson by Yankee sympathizers among the population of former slaves. She went on and on about how ridiculous such a thing was as all of the workers on her father’s plantation were all satisfied with their pay and friendly. She had no idea how anyone could do such a thing. Her friend Ashley believed that it was not only possible but likely. Then she talked about a dance held at a nearby plantation called ‘Blue Congaree.’ They had the dance outside under a large tent that was lit with gaslight.

  The third and fourth letters cheered him greatly as she spoke of how often she thought about him. The fifth promised that she had big and exciting news to tell him. She said she knew that he would be happy once he opened her next letter. That raised his eyebrow. Why would she not tell him in this letter? He had asked her father for formal permission to court her months ago. Possibly she knew about this and had received his permission.

  The letter from his bank was the standard statement of his accounts and their balances. The banker noted his investments and had several recommendations for future investments as well. Most looked as if they were attempts by his banker to enrich some relative of his in one dubious venture or another. A couple of them did seem promising though. That would take some serious thought that he had no time to spend thinking about investments now.

  The last envelope was large and stiff. The paper was of excellent quality and very thick. He did not recognize the handwriting on the outside of the envelope. He opened the envelope carefully and pulled out a large card and a folded piece of paper. He opened the paper first. Written in Ann’s hand was the brief note.

  “Thomas,

  Here is my surprise. I just know you will be so very happy for me. Your encouragement has helped me reach this wonderful moment of my life.”

  Now both eyebrows were raised. What on earth was the girl going on about?

  When he picked up the card, it was an invitation. He was cordially invited to the wedding of Ms. Annette Sue Jennings Davis to Mr. Ashely Parker Booth. His heart stopped beating for a minute. He reread the text ten times to ensure that he did not misunderstand. Ashley was a man? He was receiving a ‘Dear John’ letter in the form of a wedding invitation! This… This… this was outrageous. How could she? Thomas decided that he needed a drink. And he needed more than one.

  From that point of decision, he remembered catching the streetcar that leads from the base to the city of Savannah. It seems that there was more than one bar involved. At some point he was making merry and one of his drinking companions, an army officer or was it a marine? The other officer introduced himself as Ashley. He remembered a flare of anger. His fist moved before the other officer could finish the introduction. There was broken furniture, broken glass and a large breasted woman in a corset swinging a bottle. The memories between that and his arrival upon the floor of his room simply did not exist.

  …

  From his position on the floor, he looked up at Almond! That was it. Almond was the name of the officer. He looked up at Almond and asked in a quiet voice.

  “Did you get me here?”

  The other officer laughed.

  “Why yes. I rescued you from a rather desperate melee with an Army captain who seemed to be getting the better of the fight. He was not drunk by the way. You did no damage to him, but he seemed to have connected, a time or two with you. As part of my duties, I was the officer on duty for the judge advocate's office. When the MPs arrived and stopped the fight, you were passed out on the floor and the Army captain was kicking your ribs. The MPs assumed he started it and locked him up. Your wounds were not considered serious and you were brought back to your room. You threw up on one of the MPs as they were taking you into your room. I think that is why they deposited you on the floor rather than your bed. Upon hearing the case, I released both you and the captain. You are fortunate. The captain decided not to press charges.”

  Almond’s eyes grew wide and he plucked the wedding invitation from the table and read it more closely.

  He paused to see what effect his words would have on the still drunk Devareaux then continued.

  “I have a bill from Madame Julia for the damages to her establishment. Fortunately, they expect a bit of rowdiness and you did not do as much damage as I thought from the description that the MPs gave me.”

  Almond handed the bill down to Devareaux.

  “When we brought you into your room, I found the torn wedding invitation and saw the remains of the young woman’s letters to you. I understand what led to your… behavior. I have made sure your record does not reflect the incident. The captain was informed of what was going on and that is why he is not pressing charges. He understands and actually sent his condolences to you. Some civilian named Whytherspoon has been asking about you so I came by this afternoon to check if you are ready for civilized company.”

  Afternoon? How could it be afternoon? Rubbing his face fiercely and shaking his head, Devareaux nodded.

  “Sure, I can see him.”

  Almond smiled at Devareaux and took some joy in his misery.

  “I think you should clean up first. I will tell him he can come by in an hour.”

  With that, Almond left. Devareaux slowly gathered himself and lurched to his feet. He felt bile rise in his throat, but he was able to not be ill. It was going to be one of those days.

  Chapter 9: Whytherspoon

  Tobias Whytherspoon was waiting for Devareaux in the empty cafeteria. That was rather odd. The cafeteria at the Savannah Naval base was always busy. Whytherspoon stood as he saw him approach and smiled with a lopsided grin. Devareaux reached out a hand that Tobias shook and the two men took a seat.

  “Won’t you have something to eat?”

  The engineer asked. He looked honestly worried for his friend
.

  “Er, no, thank you. I do not believe that my stomach would handle food right now. You wanted to see me?”

  “Why yes.”

  His eyes seemed larger today behind his goggles. He reached into a leather case at his side and pulled out a folder and passed it to Devareaux.

  “This is the list of changes that we have made to the Appomattox. We have added a receiver for a wireless telegraph. We have modified the rocket batteries to have three launchers per side. Lastly, we have changed out all of the rebreathers to the portable units. This will now be standard on all future airships, by the way. Oh, and we removed the observation deck. Now only the Gatling turret is there. That compensated for the weight of the additional launchers and freed up crew to man the extra launch tube.”

  Devareaux stared at the paper and took in the changes to his command.

  “Do you have any idea of when I will be returning to my ship?”

  Tobias smiled broadly.

  “You will not be returning to your ship. Your ship is coming to you.”

  Tobias looked triumphant at this news. Devareaux on the other hand, looked horrified. His midshipmen had no real idea of how to pilot his ship. They were too young, too inexperienced and they most importantly, they were not him.

  Seeing Devareaux’s expression, Tobias frowned.

  “I… uh… thought you would be… happy. Did I do the wrong thing?”

  Devareux waved his hand unconvincingly.

  “No, it’s not a problem.”

  He thought, however, that one mistake by those midshipmen and he would be out of a command. It was his responsibility even if he was not on board when bad things happened.

  Taking his reassurance without realizing that Devareaux meant the opposite, Tobias continued.

  “I also have your orders. You will be patrolling the coastline from North Carolina to Florida and back. You are looking for signs of the German Fleet. Once repairs and upgrades have been completed, you will resume command of your airship and look for the fleet. We have reduced the rocket load that you can carry to just three rockets per trough. We also added something special underneath the gondolas. You will have the opportunity to drop bombs upon the enemy ships. There are only three of them. So you will have to make them count. It seems that the Germans will be taking to the seas again in about two months. We want to make sure that we know where they are and can inform our allies of their movements ahead of time.”