“More than just interest; this mobile gun position is the answer to an unspoken prayer. Of late, my thoughts have been turned to the possibilities of lightning attacks and expeditious victories. This invention of Parrott and Ericsson fits in with all that I plan to do.”
“Do we plan to go to war?” Grant asked, his face suddenly hard and grim.
“A soldier must always be ready for war. If not now, I think that we will be facing the prospect of battle by spring. But please, do sit down.” Sherman seated himself and tapped the drawings. “I need this infernal machine. The British talk of war and are at their most bellicose. It is a possibility that we must consider strongly. That is why I have invited engineer Ericsson to join us this morning.” He took out his watch and looked at it. “He will be here at any time now. Before he comes, I must tell you about a little scouting trip I have just finished to the English shore.”
“You didn’t!” Grant sat back in his chair and laughed out loud. “I swear — you have more brass than an entire band.”
“It was indeed an interesting time. But other than the men who went with me, only you and the President know of the visit — and we must keep it that way. It was a most fruitful exploration, for what I did discover was just how that country could be successfully invaded.”
“Now you do have my complete attention.”
Sherman outlined roughly what he planned to do, including what would be Grant’s vital contribution to a successful invasion. When Ericsson was announced they put away the papers and maps that they had worked on and turned their attention back to the plans for the mobile battery.
“I have many things to do and do not enjoy wasting time on trips to the city of Washington,” Ericsson said testily as he was shown in.
“A pleasure to see you again,” Sherman said, ignoring the engineer’s outburst. “You of course know General Grant.”
Ericsson nodded curtly. Then, “Why was I summoned here?”
“Well, for one thing,” Sherman said, opening a drawer in the desk, “I understand that the navy has been slow in paying you for the new ironclads that are now under construction.”
“Always late! I have a large workforce, and there is iron and steel must be purchased—”
“Perfectly understandable.” Sherman slid an envelope across the table. “I think that you will find dealing with the army much more satisfactory. This is a check for the first payment for the development of the mobile battery.”
Ericsson smiled — for the first time that they had ever seen. Tore open the envelope and squinted down at the check. “Most satisfactory.”
“Good. Then we can get down to work.” Sherman pointed to the drawings on his desk. “I have been examining these in great detail ever since General Grant gave them to me. I have some suggestions.”
Ericsson’s face grew hard. “You are not an engineer…”
“No — but I am the officer in charge of the armies that must use this device. I want you to consider this. The driver and the gunner will be under intense fire from the enemy. Is there any way we can protect them with some armor?”
“That will not be a problem. I have already had this under consideration.” He took a pencil from his jacket pocket and pulled over the drawings. With quick, precise strokes he sketched in an iron shield.
“If we attempt to armor the vehicle on all sides, it would be too heavy to move. But since it will be attacking the enemy, then a shield on the front should provide all the protection that it will need as it rides into battle. The muzzles of the Gatling will fire through this opening in the armor.”
“Sounds most promising,” Sherman said, smiling with pleasure. “How long will it take to build the prototype?”
“One week,” Ericsson said without the slightest hesitation. “If you will be at my works one week from today, you will see the new machine in action.”
“That will indeed be satisfactory.” Sherman tugged at his beard, deep in thought. “But we must have a name for this new invention.”
“I have thought about that. It must be a heroic name. So I suggest Fafnir — the dragon of Norse legend, breathing out fire and destruction on all who oppose it.”
“I think not. We want a name that if it is overheard, or mentioned in correspondence, will be most innocuous and bear no relation to the war vehicle. The secret of its existence must be kept at all costs.”
“Innocuous!” Ericsson’s temper had snapped again. “That is ridiculous. If you want innocuous, then why not call it a bale of hay — or — or a water tank!”
Sherman nodded. “A capital suggestion. A water tank, an iron tank — or just plain tank. So that is settled. But there is another matter that I want to consult you about. A military matter.”
“Yes?”
Sherman took a key from his waistcoat pocket, unlocked the top drawer of his desk, and took out a sheaf of drawings. He slid them across the desktop to Ericsson.
“These are different elevations and details of a fort defending a river bend.”
Ericsson took them and nodded agreement. “Obviously. A typical construction that you will see right across all of Europe. It is roughly a triangular redan. These spurs flank the approaches to the fort, and see, opposite the salients here, the walls take the form of a star, a development of a tenaille trace. This ravelin has an important defense role in defending the main entrance. A well-worn design — but also well past its time. It cannot stand up to modern artillery. I assume you want to reduce this fortress?”
“I do.”
“Easily enough done. Get a siege train within range, and in three or four days you will have reduced the walls to rubble.”
“That will be impossible. It is surrounded by water and swamps. Also — that would take too long.”
“Too long! You want a miracle, then.”
“I don’t want a miracle — but I do want the guns destroyed in hours, not days. I am not interested in the fabric of the fort itself; it will be bypassed in any case.”
“Interesting,” the engineer said, picking up the aerial view of the fort. “The river here, of course. With the guns silenced, the ships of war may pass. You come to me because I am a nautical engineer and this will require a nautical solution. May I take these drawings with me?”
“You may not. Study them as long as you like — but they must not leave this room.”
Ericsson scowled at this prohibition and rubbed his jaw in thought. “All right, I can do that. But one more question: The fleet that sails up this river, will they be riverine ships?”
“No, they won’t be. They will have crossed an ocean before they reach the river mouth.”
“Very good, then.” Ericsson climbed to his feet. “I will show you how it can be done when I see you in a week’s time to demonstrate my new hay bale.”
“Tank.”
“Bale, tank — it is all nonsense.” He started for the door, then turned back. “At that time I will be able to show you how to reduce those guns. An idea I already have been working on.” He went out, slamming the door behind him.
“Do you think he can do it?” Grant asked.
“If he can’t, why, there is no one else in the world who can. He is an original thinker. Never forget that it was his Monitor that changed naval warfare forever.”
On the other side of the Atlantic a far more commonplace event was taking place. In the port of Dover, the morning steam packet from Calais had just arrived after an uneventful crossing of the English Channel from France. Albert Noireau was just one of the many passengers who came down the gangway and stepped onto the English soil.