A Nation Interrupted Read online

When Pozniak reached the epicenter of the melee, Baldwin’s men ceased firing. They waited. As soon as Pozniak was no longer directly between them, Baldwin’s men opened up again, firing at the fleeing Union soldier until he was no longer in range.

  Miraculously, Pozniak had managed to race through the fusillade of bullets unscathed. But as the courier continued riding away at a breakneck pace, one of Baldwin’s men, armed with a Whitworth sniper rifle, stepped out into the middle of the road. He steadied himself, taking dead aim. The sniper fought hard to calm his rapid breathing. He choked momentarily from the smell of gunpowder that filled the surrounding air. Finally, he held his breath for several seconds and lightly squeezed the trigger.

  As his horse continued toward Sharpsburg at a full gallop, Private Pozniak lay dying—his heart pierced by the sniper’s .45 caliber bullet. By the time Baldwin and his men covered the nearly seven hundred yards to reach the fallen courier, Stanislaw Tobias Pozniak had taken his final breath.

  Quickly scanning the road in both directions, Captain Baldwin knelt beside the lifeless body of a boy young enough to be his son. He removed the leather satchel from around the dead private’s neck and shoulder. Still scanning the road, he quickly opened it and examined the contents.

  As he read the intercepted dispatch from his own general, it didn’t take Baldwin long to discern the extent to which the information that had fallen into the enemy’s hands could undermine the Confederate war effort. He slung the satchel over his shoulder and dragged the slain courier’s body from the road into the woods. Without saying a word, he pointed east, signaling his men to continue toward their objective in Frederick.

  One of the men stayed behind. He picked up a fallen branch and swept the road until the blood-soaked soil was no longer visible. He continued sweeping toward the woods, masking the drag marks from their victim’s boots. Tossing the branch into the woods, he raced to catch up with the others.

  Baldwin’s band of marauders knew it wouldn’t be long before a Union patrol came along to investigate the circumstances behind the riderless horse. They moved at a brisk pace, trying to distance themselves from the site of the ambush. But as he contemplated the significance of the dispatch he and his men had intercepted, Baldwin suddenly shortened his gait, slowing their progress. He began to question what his next move should be. How was this all going to play out?

  Obviously, he needed to get word to General Lee that the Confederate plan had fallen into Union hands. And he needed to do it quickly, while there was still time for Lee to countermand his order.

  It stood to reason that the Confederate general would have to abort his plan in favor of a new strategy. General McClellan, even though Baldwin’s men had prevented the Union courier from delivering Special Order 191 to his headquarters, was still sure to learn of the planned three-pronged assault. The Union field commander who had sent the dispatch would almost certainly follow up to confirm that it had been successfully delivered. The fact that Baldwin’s men had temporarily delayed the message from reaching McClellan was of no consequence.

  But, then again, it could be of consequence. As Baldwin suddenly realized—it could be of tremendous consequence. He held up his hand, stopping the small detachment of Rebels in its tracks. He turned and stared at the road behind him. His men stood silent, studying the deliberate expression on their captain’s face as he weighed his options. They had seen this expression before. Emmet Baldwin was not an everyday, run-of-the-mill junior officer. He was a tactician, one who possessed a shrewd military intellect. Without saying a word, Baldwin began retracing his steps toward the site of the ambush.

  Without asking any questions, his men turned and followed him.

  _ _

  The following day, when General Robert E. Lee learned of Captain Baldwin’s actions, the usually calm Confederate commander was seething with rage. Those in his inner circle, including his chief of staff, Brigadier General Robert H. Chilton, had never seen the general this animated.

  Chilton tried to calm his boss, carefully interjecting his speech between Lee’s repeated rants against Baldwin and his men. “But, General…sir, Captain Baldwin’s actions were quite sound in retrospect. His strategy is not without—”

  “Strategy!” Lee shouted, interrupting Chilton. “What strategy? Allowing an intercepted order intended for my field generals to remain in Union hands is a strategy? Pray tell, Robert—exactly how does this damned reckless action constitute a strategy on the part of our renegade captain?”

  Chilton tried again. “Sir…as Baldwin explained in his message, he replaced the dispatch and purposely moved the courier’s body back onto the road. He wanted the Union patrol to discover it there, along with the contents inside the satchel. Even if he’d not done so, McClellan would have still, in due course, become aware of the order the courier was carrying. Baldwin couldn’t have prevented that by removing the dispatch from the courier’s body.”

  Lee’s chief of staff could see the general was still skeptical. “Had Baldwin retained the satchel,” Chilton continued, “McClellan and his staff would have surmised that we are aware Special Order 191 has been compromised. They also would have correctly reasoned that we must now abandon our planned three-pronged assault in favor of a new strategy.”

  Lee was still angry, but he was at least listening with interest. Chilton seized upon the opportunity to drive home his point. “Thanks to Captain Baldwin’s deception, the enemy will continue to believe we have no knowledge that your order has fallen into their hands. Therefore, they have no reason to believe we will deviate from the plan they have in their possession. They are, no doubt, still expecting us to execute the details of Special Order 191 exactly as you drafted them. Don’t you see, General? Captain Baldwin has cleverly maneuvered your enemy into a false position. His ruse has placed you one move ahead of McClellan on the chessboard.”

  Chilton watched as a calm slowly descended over his boss. He waited patiently for a response from the now-ruminative general.

  After several minutes, Lee spoke. "General Chilton, we must move swiftly.”

  Chapter Two

  17 September, 1862

  (the day of the battle)

  At Harpers Ferry, Virginia, near the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers, the sun was just beginning to rise above the surrounding hills. Down below, inside the large federal garrison, fourteen thousand Union soldiers waited. Commanded by Colonel Dixon S. Miles, the soldiers girded themselves for the Confederate assault that was to be led by General Stonewall Jackson.

  The assault never came.

  The same was true at Lovettsville, where General John George Walker was to have attacked a large encampment of Union soldiers.

  Jackson and Walker were nowhere near Harpers Ferry and Lovettsville. They weren’t even in the state of Virginia. They were with Generals Hill and Longstreet—in Maryland. The four divisions assigned to Hill, Longstreet, Jackson and Walker had rejoined the main body of General Lee’s army. A massive Confederate juggernaut was moving north, along Antietam Creek—straight toward Sharpsburg and General McClellan’s headquarters.

  McClellan was completely exposed. The Union commander had spread his forces to defend against the multi-pronged attack detailed in Special Order 191. He was ill-prepared to fight a decisive battle at Sharpsburg—not against an approaching Confederate army four times larger than the one he had expected. His fate was now sealed.

  The ensuing battle was nothing short of a Union massacre. By noon, the badly outnumbered defenders at Sharpsburg had been overrun, suffering casualties in the tens of thousands. Shortly thereafter, George B. McClellan, the commanding general of the Union Army, was taken prisoner. McClellan’s surrender meant that the only Union commander who still possessed an army large enough to prevent Lee’s forces from marching into Washington, D.C., was Major General Ulysses S. Grant.

  Grant’s army was seven hundred miles to the west. The American Civil War was effectively ended.

  _ _

  When President Abraham Lincoln received word of his army’s defeat at Antietam, he realized his quest to preserve the Union had failed. “The war is lost—our Union put asunder,” Lincoln muttered to General Henry Halleck, his chief of staff. “This changes everything we know—everything we’ve tried to safeguard for posterity.”

  In the weeks that followed, Lincoln sent his emissaries to Richmond. There, they received the surrender terms that had been dictated by Jefferson Davis—the president of the Confederate States of America.

  Soon thereafter, the United Kingdom issued a proclamation recognizing the Confederacy as an independent nation. France, Germany and Spain quickly followed suit. At the time of its inception, the CSA constituted the fourth-largest economy in the world.

  But it was an agrarian economy—one built upon the institution of slavery.

  Chapter Three

  1863–1913

  (the aftermath)

  In 1862, President Lincoln had hoped for a strategic opportunity to issue an emancipation proclamation. Had McClellan successfully deflected Lee’s Maryland campaign, the momentum gained from such an important victory could have provided that opportunity. But because of the Union Army’s defeat at Antietam, Lincoln never issued his proclamation.

  Even if the Union Army had prevailed at Antietam, Lincoln’s proclamation would only have freed persons being held as slaves in the states that had seceded. It would not have emancipated the half million souls who were enslaved in states that had remained part of the Union. Lincoln had planned to bring about a total end to slavery, not through his proclamation—but through a post-war amendment to the US constitution. The proposed fourteenth amendment would have easily passed in the afterglow of a Union victory.

  Now, it would be decades before such an amendment would pass.

  _ _

  In February of 1863, the status of five Union states still hung in the balance. Under the terms of the US capitulation, Maryland, Kentucky, Missouri and Delaware—because they were slave states that had not seceded—had been granted referendums to determine their allegiance. Citizens in each state would go to the polls to decide whether to remain part of the Union or join the Confederacy.

  Additionally, in what turned out to be one of the most controversial provisions of the surrender, Kansas voters were permitted to determine their fate as well. The state had long been at the center of pre-war turmoil over the question of slavery in America. After years of contentious negotiations, Kansas had eventually been admitted to the Union as a free state in 1861, a move which had greatly exacerbated an already-volatile situation during the leadup to the war. Now, even though it had been a free state during the conflict, Kansas was once again the nucleus of controversy over the issue of slavery.

  When the referendums were held, Maryland and Delaware voted to remain part of the United States. Kentucky, Missouri and Kansas elected to join the Confederacy, although there was a great deal of suspicion surrounding the Kansas vote. Few in the US government doubted that the vote had been surreptitiously skewed by pro-slavery factions in neighboring Missouri; but having already suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Confederates, the United States lacked the political fortitude to press the issue.

  The die was now cast. The boundaries of a new, self-governing nation had been drawn: Missouri, Kentucky, and Virginia to the north—Kansas, the Oklahoma Territory, and Texas to the west. Together with Arkansas, Louisiana, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida and the Carolinas, these states now constituted the Confederate States of America.

  The Confederate States of America (February 1863)

  _ _

  The liberation of millions of African Americans had been indefinitely delayed. In addition to those states holding slaves in the newly independent Confederacy, two Union states (Maryland and Delaware) continued to hold slaves as well.

  There was still a viable abolitionist movement, of course—even within the Confederacy. It wasn’t long before many began to openly question the institution of slavery on moral grounds. In the end, it would take a seismic convergence of the industrial revolution and this Southern abolitionist movement to, once and for all, bring an end to slavery in the Confederate States.

  In 1886, barely a quarter century after waging a bloody war to defend their “right” to hold slaves, the Confederate Congress voted overwhelmingly to pass an emancipation amendment. The amendment freed every remaining Southern slave and granted them full citizenship in the Confederate States of America. It was ratified that same year. Ironically, it wasn’t until 1888 that a similar amendment was added to the United States Constitution.

  Slavery in America was finally ended. It had died, as most corrupt institutions do, from natural causes.

  _ _

  The decades that followed emancipation were a time of peaceful coexistence between the two American nations.

  The United States, continuing President James K. Polk’s earlier vision of a “manifest destiny,” expanded to the Pacific coast—but not beyond. Once destined to become a major world power, the defeated nation never attempted to extend its sovereignty beyond its own shores.

  The Confederate States were even less interested in expansion. The newly independent nation quickly assumed an isolationist stance. Perhaps it was an effort to exorcise the twin demons of slavery and secession from its national conscience. Whatever the reasons, the Confederates were determined to avoid any and all future wars.

  All of this led to a world in which the major European nations continued to hold a firm grip on their respective Pacific and Caribbean protectorates. Many of those protectorates had once been on a path that would have led them inside the US sphere of influence. Now, with America in a weakened state, the Monroe Doctrine, which had compelled the European powers to refrain from interfering in affairs within the Western Hemisphere, simply fell by the wayside.

  The Philippines and Guam in the Pacific, as well as Cuba and Puerto Rico in the Caribbean, remained under Spanish control. Alaska remained a part of Russia, and Hawaii remained independent. Even though the United States negotiated a lease on a Pearl Harbor naval base with Hawaii’s provincial government, very few US Navy assets were ever deployed there.

  When the French abandoned construction of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama late in the nineteenth century, President Theodore Roosevelt saw an opportunity for the US to step in and acquire a strategic asset. Congress, still suffering from the malaise of the Civil War defeat, was reluctant to expend resources on foreign ventures. Roosevelt was unable to convince the shortsighted Congress to take on the project.

  As a result, the canal, which would have been a tremendous military and economic resource to both American nations, was never completed.

  _ _

  At the beginning of the twentieth century, the United States military was third-rate. The Confederates couldn’t even make that claim. That would begin to change when, in 1914, the Great War erupted in Europe. The world was plummeted into, what was at that time, the most extensive armed conflict in recorded history.

  By then, however, the world was a very different place than it would have been if Corporal Barton Mitchell, when he happened upon that seemingly innocuous bundle of cigars in a strategically insignificant meadow, had not begun a chain of events that changed the course of history.

  Chapter Four

  1914–1918

  On Sunday, the 28th of June in the year 1914, Franz Ferdinand, the Archduke of Austria, was assassinated in Sarajevo. His assassin, a militant Bosnian Serb named Gavrilo Princip, had just toppled the first in a series of dominoes that would eventually lead to a global conflict known as the Great War—“the war to end all wars.”

  _ _

  An ocean and half a continent away from Sarajevo, in the small town of Uvalde, Texas, a young boy lay sleeping in his bed. He was blissfully unaware of how the death of this person about whom he knew nothing, in a place he didn’t know existed, was going to change his life.

  Roderick Hurley was eight years old when the world decided to go to war. The second of four children, Rod was the oldest son. Even at eight years of age, he was a natural leader. Several hours after Franz Ferdinand had died in the streets of Sarajevo, the windup alarm clock next to his bed began clanging. He quickly set about rousting his brother and two sisters out of bed, ordering them to get ready for church. It was this propensity to shepherd his siblings that prompted his father to rely heavily upon Rod when, three years later, Clarence Hurley went north to volunteer with the United States Army.

  When the Great War began in 1914, both American nations declared their neutrality. But while the Confederate States would continue to stand on the sidelines for the entirety of the conflict, their neighbors to the north would eventually commit themselves to the Allied cause in 1917. Three years after the war had started, the United States began sending American “doughboys” to France to fight against Germany and the other Central Powers.

  When the US finally entered the war, Clarence Hurley was not the only Southerner who opposed the CSA’s continued neutrality stance. There were a significant number of Confederate men who went north to join the US war effort. More than eight hundred thousand of them left home wearing the uniform of their nation’s former enemy.

  _ _

  At about the same time that Rod Hurley’s father was leaving Texas to fight in Europe, Toby Pozniak’s father was celebrating his son’s bar mitzvah (the Jewish coming of age ritual) at the Kane Street Synagogue, in Brooklyn, New York. Lawrence Pozniak had named his son after his own father’s older brother. Toby’s full name was the same as that of his great-uncle—Stanislaw Tobias Pozniak.

  Toby didn’t know much about his great-uncle, only that he had been a member of the Union Army during the Confederate War of Secession. He also knew that Stanislaw Pozniak had been killed in the line of duty. Toby’s father had never shared much more than that—and for good reason. He hadn’t wanted to explain to his son that the circumstances of his great-uncle’s death had always been enveloped in controversy. Fairly or unfairly, some historians had placed blame for the Union defeat on Stanislaw Pozniak, faulting the young courier for the events leading up to the decisive battle at Antietam. The Pozniak family had always vehemently rejected that judgment.