And a constant yearly need of approval for its judges, I wonder if other state would try to implement it....
That particular decision is a fairly extreme solution to their problem, and may lead to other problems down the road. And Niagara isn't done going to extremes…
Love this. Almost no timelines acknowledge any difficulty that would come from America annexing part of Canada.
There's actually more little difficulties than I have room to cover—converting Niagarans' currency, say.
The article refers to Britain as the UK, does that mean whatever revolution occurs eventually fails?
Or at least, the royal family survives it.
 
Half Slave, Half Free (2)
September 13, 1839
Whitehall

George Charles Canning sat facing the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies. He held three folded letters in his hands that he’d received yesterday and had spent the evening studying. One was a letter that Russell’s office had received from Greyhaven three weeks ago, which included a political manifesto by a number of towns in Australia. The other two were letters from Governor Arthur in Sydney. Whatever it was Russell wanted him to do, it had to be important—he’d been recalled from Paris and replaced with his brother, William Pitt Canning, for it.[1]

“Having read the resolution,” said Russell, “what do you make of it?”

“In my opinion? For the most part, these are demands to which this government may accede without regret.”

“For the most part?”

Canning nodded. “Transportation must continue—we need it quite as much as Australia does—and I see no firm guarantee here that this hypothetical assembly will set aside any place at all for it. Apart from that issue, I’m hard put to find a point of disagreement.”

“Governor Arthur has a different opinion.”

“Speaking bluntly, Governor Arthur writes like a man whose boiler is under too much pressure.” Canning tapped his head. “Anyone would think he was facing a mob of bloodthirsty Jacobins. But these”—he held up the resolution—“are not the words of Jacobins. Not even modern Jacobins. They’re not calling for Her Majesty’s head on a platter, they’re calling for the same rights they would enjoy here in the mother country.”

“And we should grant them those rights, because…” Canning wasn’t sure if Russell was honestly unsure on this point or merely testing his ability to express his principles. He hoped it was the latter.

“Sir, is it not the intent of this government to encourage settlement of our colonies?”

“Of course it is.”

“Becoming a settler in a new land is already a considerable investment in time and effort on anyone’s part. It’s a poor reward for them to enjoy less freedom there than they might have here.”

“I concur,” said Russell. “So does the Prime Minister. More to the point, neither of us wants a second colonial rebellion on our watch.

“And what makes it worse is the distance involved. The ship that brought this resolution—the Coldstream[2]—made the journey from Greyhaven in 97 days, with excellent sailing and the best sort of weather behind them. It’s normally a voyage of at least 100 days from Plymouth to Sydney, and somewhat longer to get back… assuming you survive rounding the Horn.[3] We can know nothing of what has happened there since late May, and any decision we send today will be unlikely to arrive before Christmas.

“That was why I chose George Arthur in the first place. He had the reputation of a hard man, but not a cruel one. That’s a rare thing in Australia.” Russell sighed. “It shames me to say as much, but our penal system draws man-shaped monsters from all over these isles the way carrion draws crows. There are men serving the Queen in Australia whose hearts are at least as wicked as those of the worst convicts on Norfolk Island. Now Arthur… not everyone cared for the man, but everyone seemed to agree—if he thought you deserved sixteen strokes of the lash about the shoulders, he’d sooner lop off his own right hand than give you a seventeenth, or let one stroke land on the wrong part of your back. A man like that, and one who tends to every last detail… he seemed perfect for the post.”

“Perhaps he was,” said Canning. “From what I read here, it seems the colony has grown, but his understanding of it has not.”

“Perhaps,” said Russell. “Perhaps. We find ourselves saying ‘perhaps’ rather a lot when we speak of antipodean matters. There is so much we cannot know.

“Which is where you come in, Mr. Canning. You’re familiar with Lord Durham’s mission to the Canada’s?”

“I am.” Suddenly, Canning knew where this was going.

“I intend for you to carry out a similar mission in Australia. Listen to everyone, get the lay of the land, write your report and make your recommendations.”

Canning nodded, a little too overwhelmed with shock to do anything else. On the one hand, this was a very important assignment. On the other hand, it was to the far side of the world.

“You shall have plenipotentiary authority over the garrison, just to be on the safe side, but I doubt you’ll need it. Arthur may be… in need of a less onerous billet, but he understands obedience to the Crown.”

“Of course.”

“We’re not sending you off right away. A ship departs from Plymouth next week. You’ll have time to attend the funeral and help your family move back into London.”

Canning nodded. He’d already passed the Duke’s coffin as it lay in state in the Royal Hospital. The voyage to Australia would be dangerous, the voyage home even more so, and he would be separated from his family for a long time, but this was the chance he had been hoping for since 1820. Unlike his brother who was getting more and more interested in Chartism, he could as easily have been a Tory as a Whig… if not for the fact that the Tories had effectively exiled his father to an early grave in a malarial swamp on the wishes of the most despised king since James II—his father, who would surely have been one of the greatest Prime Ministers in British history had he been allowed to serve. Like his father, George C. Canning made a conscious effort not to be bitter, but he was determined to prove himself.



The Duke of Wellington’s funeral was indeed the “last moment of unity” for pre-Bright Revolution Britain, but it was very much a church affair, not a political one. When Parliament approved £150,000[4] for the funeral, even the Chartists agreed. The Parliamentary hearings into the conduct of the Battle of Saint-Louis were halted and, indeed, never resumed.

Every soldier who’d ever served with the Duke, and every politician who’d ever worked alongside him, had words of praise for him. The eulogies most often quoted and remembered, given by the Queen, the Crown Prince, Brougham, Croker, and Peel, were not delivered at the funeral itself, but in the weeks and months before it. During the ceremony, the only words not delivered by an Anglican priest were a poem commissioned by poet laureate William Wordsworth[5].

The funeral was free of the vindictive celebrations that had marred the funerals of Liverpool and Castlereagh nearly a generation earlier. Despite the immense numbers—it is believed that one million people or more watched the procession from Horse Guards to St. Paul’s Cathedral, with at least 10,000 people inside the cathedral itself[6]—the closest thing to violence that the occasion saw was an elderly woman trampled in the crowds[7]…

Arthur Roundtree, A Political History of Pre-revolutionary Britain


[1] IOTL these two both died young.
[2] Not the East Indiaman Coldstream, which ITTL was lost in a shipwreck off Bourbon Island in 1829, but a clipper built by Jock Willis & Sons of London.
[3] The difference is because sailing ships making both voyages take advantage of the westerly winds and powerful circumpolar current in the forties and fifties. So while the fastest route from Plymouth to Sydney is down the west coast of Africa and across the southern Indian Ocean, the fastest route back is across the southern Pacific and up the east coast of South America.
[4] Half again as much as the amount approved to fund Wellington’s funeral IOTL, although IOTL there was some deflation between 1839 and 1852.
[5] IOTL the poem was written by then-poet laureate Tennyson.
[6] As IOTL
[7] Two people died this way during his lying in state IOTL.
 
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The Duke of Wellington’s funeral was indeed the “last moment of unity” for pre-Bright Revolution Britain, but it was very much a church affair, not a political one. When Parliament approved £150,000[4] for the funeral, even the Chartists agreed. The Parliamentary hearings into the conduct of the Battle of Saint-Louis were halted and, indeed, never resumed.

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. From a cursory search this is the first time this phrase has popped up, intrigued to see how it will go.
 
Half Slave, Half Free (3)
The Bonneville expedition turned out to be one of those cases where I can't really describe something in the detail it deserves because it would take about 10,000 more words than I'm prepared to spend on it. The short version is that they gathered up way more materiel than they thought they would need in their worst-case scenario and it turned out to be just barely adequate.

September 16, 1839
outside Spartí

Εδώ είναι Σπάρτη,” said Apostolis Kolokotronis, gesturing at the village.

Captain[1] Patrice de MacMahon didn’t need his interpreter to get the message. “I thought it would be larger.”

This wasn’t exactly part of his normal duties. Greece was out of the war—from their point of view they had won, as Sultan Husein had reluctantly agreed to part with the province of Thessaly. And every sack of grain the French Army could buy from now-neutral Greece was one that wouldn’t need to be shipped the length of the Mediterranean. But Laconia was safe now, he could be spared for a brief visit inland while arranging this, and he had wanted to see Sparta with his own eyes. And now he was seeing it—such as it was.

Kolokotronis pointed at a bit of old stonework and spoke. MacMahon’s interpreter, a big fellow with spectacles and a thick brown beard, translated: “That is what’s left of the wall built by King Nabis in the second century BC, not long before Sparta was conquered. In the days of its glory, Sparta’s walls were its men.”

The interpreter continued on his own: “‘I suppose if Lacedaemon were to become desolate, and the temples and the foundations of the public buildings were left, that as time went on there would be a strong disposition with posterity to refuse to accept her fame as a true exponent of her power.’[2] Thucydides was right, sir.”

MacMahon nodded. The scholarly young aspirant[3] from the supply office in Thessalonica had turned out to be an excellent interpreter, and that was a rare thing. So many scholars thought they could serve as interpreters because they’d read Homer, Aristotle, or the Apostles in the original Greek. Few of them had applied that knowledge to master modern spoken Greek as quickly as this young fellow. He hadn’t been tested in combat, and he rode a horse like a man who’d never even seen one until last week, but he was useful to have around.

“They certainly left a reputation behind.”

“Indeed, sir. In a sense, that’s all they left behind. They themselves wrote little, and much of what they did write has been lost. Most of what we know about them—or think we know—comes from other Greeks.[4]”

“Their enemies?”

“Our best sources are Xenophon and Plutarch, sir. Xenophon was an Athenian, but he admired the Spartans very much. Plutarch lived in the first century A.D., long after their time.”

“Seems a pity they didn’t survive. Constantinople might never have fallen to the Turk with Spartans to defend it.” The intrepreter pursed his lips. “You disagree?”

“I don’t think they could have survived, sir. The men we think of when we think of Sparta—the spartiates, the elite warriors—they were a small minority. The three hundred at Thermopylae were accompanied by nine hundred retainers. Even in their finest hour, they were a minority on their own side. And they were dwindling, each generation smaller than the last. Aristotle saw this.”

“Too many wars.”

“Not only wars, sir, and not only children who were killed in training. To be part of the elite, a man’s estate had to be able to contribute to their local syssition every month[5]. With every misfortune—the earthquake, the helot revolts—more and more estates lost the ability to contribute. More and more families were cast out. The elite was eating itself alive, sir.”

“Did they ever do anything about this?”

“Some of the later kings tried to reform. Nabis”—the interpreter gestured at the wall Kolokotronis had pointed out—“was one of them. It was all too little too WHOA!” The interpreter’s horse was rearing up, shying at nothing in particular. Somehow he kept his position, working his knees into a better grip on the barrel of the horse.

MacMahon clapped him on the back. “We’ll make a soldier of you yet, Aspirant Elmar.”


During the sixteen months that Princess Raven occupied Symmes’ Landing, both Fort Vancouver and the Astoria colony were essentially cut off from the world and, though forced to become allies on this front, were limited in their ability to coordinate with each other. The Chinook made several attacks on Charcoal Mill and Fort Vancouver, none successful. Astoria had greater numbers, but Fort Vancouver had (at least until winter) an overland trade route that the Chinook had no way of interrupting and that allowed them to partly replenish their supply of powder and shot, courtesy of the HBC.

The greatest hardship the 48th of Foot suffered was lack of food. Astoria could feed itself, and its agents went by circuitous routes around Symmes’ Landing to trade the occasional sack of cornmeal or kilo of potatoes for fresh gunpowder, but neither the HBC’s trade route nor the surrounding forests and fields could supply a thousand hungry men. In September, Goodman sent six hundred of his men back to Astoria City to build barracks and hunker down for winter there.

But the Chinooks had the worst of it. According to Raven’s son Ronald, “One in three of those who fought and took this town perished over the course of the next year. A few deserted the British and Americans to come to us, and more came from surrounding tribes, but not enough to fill the empty places in our ranks.” Malaria was a more effective killer than Austin or Goodman could ever be…


Before the expedition could even begin, Gen. Scott had to spend the winter preparing the way. This meant not only amassing food, fodder, blankets, and ammunition from Louisville to Freedmansville, but using the same winter supply trains that had kept the Army alive in the Canadian winter to fill the storerooms of Fort Gentry and Fort Sublette. The Conestoga wagons that had served so well in the northern campaign were too heavy for the prairies, which meant using a larger number of prairie schooners and other small covered wagons.

On the recommendation of Poinsett, Scott promoted Col. Benjamin Bonneville to brigadier general and placed him in charge of the expedition. One of Bonneville’s first decisions was to purchase coal and charcoal, as firewood would be in short supply on the plains and too bulky to transport, and the buffalo dung found along the way would not be sufficient to build fires for three regiments. He also procured a great stock of knives, scissors, needles, thread, beads, tobacco, and bolts of fabric[6] in bright colors which could be used to trade with the natives…


By the time Bonneville’s scouts reached Fort Sublette, they discovered that it was already entangled in a war. The wealth of supplies Poinsett had ordered stored there over the winter had drawn the interest of the Blackfeet, who were trying to plunder the fort. The Lakota, in whose territory the fort was, saw this as a provocation and were now embroiled in a war with the Blackfeet. Major Joseph Meek, who was in command of Fort Sublette, was more or less of necessity sharing his food and fodder with the Lakota, both diminishing the supplies available for the expedition and making it harder for Bonneville to trade with them. He left one cavalry regiment, the Kentucky 11th, to assist the Lakota and went on his way with the remaining two…


The Second Battle of Symmes’ Landing was anticlimactic. Despite having had a year to built fortifications out of the frontier town, the Chinook who remained were barely able to hold their own against the Astoria militia, let alone two Army regiments with Colt revolvers and a full supply of ammunition. In a rough imitation of the waterdragoon warfare seen in Florida and Louisiana, Bonneville caulked several of his wagons and floated them into the Columbia, with riflemen aboard whose orders were to anchor themselves just outside arrow range of Symmes’ Landing and kill any Chinook who tried to escape by river. This failed only because the wagons’ makeshift anchors came loose in the powerful current, forcing the riflemen to spend more time struggling with oars and bargepoles than using their rifles, in an attempt not to be washed downstream. Ronald McDonald and many of the other Chinook escaped, but their power and ability to resist white encroachment had been broken…


In addition to defeating Princess Raven’s forces, Bonneville expanded the infrastructure of western settlement during the expedition. He not only founded Fort Bonneville[7] and Fort Poinsett (later derided as “Fort Pointless” and abandoned to the elements[8]) but reclaimed Wyeth’s Post[9], an abandoned trading post on the Snake River[10], and expanded it into Fort Wyeth. He also began the work of setting up Army horse-courier posts along the Astoria Trail…

Eric Wayne Ellison, Anglo-American Wars of the 19th Century


[1] At this point IOTL, MacMahon was a sub-lieutenant of cavalry. ITTL he earned a couple of promotions, including one at Silistre.
[2] From The Peloponnesian War, Book 1, chapter 10.
[3] A rank in the French Army.
[4] Most of what I know about the Spartans, and what our young scholar’s opinions are based on, comes from this highly recommended series of essays by Dr. Bret Devereux. Since Devereux mostly draws upon Xenophon, Plutarch, and other classical sources, it doesn’t seem like such a stretch that our interpreter could have drawn the same conclusions.
[5] Their communal dining arrangement, where the notorious Spartan broth was served.
[6] Note what isn’t in this list—alcohol and firearms.
[7] OTL’s Fort Bridger
[8] OTL’s poorly-situated and ultimately abandoned Fort Bonneville
[9] OTL Fort Hall, here named for its founder, Nathaniel Jarvis Wyeth
[10] IOTL, Wyeth was outcompeted by the HBC and had to sell the fort to them. Here the collapse of the fur market has forced him to abandon it.
 
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Rereading today, it occurs to me that not only is Berrien a hardened proponent of the expansion of slavery and an ardent racist, he’s also a Plantation Aristocrat through and through, with all of the classist sentiments that entails. Going through his perspective again, it shows that he not only cleaves to the Southern doctrine of racial hierarchy, he’s not big into social mobility either. For example: when Poinsett promotes Taylor and Lauderdale in Dead of Winter (1), Berrien notes to himself that, while good Virginians and more competent than Harney, he doesn’t like admitting that they’re better than Harney, who (correct me if I’m wrong) is their social superior in the Planter Aristocrat pecking order. From the way it’s worded, he’s distinctly unhappy with them being promoted and given their commands instead of the authority and total command being given over to Harney.

And now I’m wondering if that isn’t going to play into the impending Troubles.

After all, the Planter Aristocracy and it’s pretensions of superiority over all “lesser” forms of American social strata runs directly counter to the social dynamism that pervades the North’s culture, the ideal of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps or winning your fortune on an entrepreneurial roll of the dice. The Stablers, with their growing chemical and manufacturing empire, are a perfect example of this. And yet, the Southern Planters expect them to give it all up and buy a plantation of their own once they have the money for it, as though this was the highest ideal any man could aspire to; as though in order to “truly” join the upper crust, a man must do exactly as they do, act exactly as they act, live exactly the way they live. Leaving aside the racism bound up in the Southern Planter ideal, the constant expression that they are the only rightful American culture and everyone else is inherently their social, cultural and political inferior has got to grate, not only on Northerners of all economic backgrounds but also on poor white southerners, who not only have to endure that attitude all the time but also have only the thin, vain hope of one day climbing that social rung to placate them. And that thin hope can’t placate them forever, especially if they can visibly see that the social mobility they’re hoping for isn’t attainable, or worse, is actively being stifled by the Planter elite.
 
Rereading today, it occurs to me that not only is Berrien a hardened proponent of the expansion of slavery and an ardent racist, he’s also a Plantation Aristocrat through and through, with all of the classist sentiments that entails. Going through his perspective again, it shows that he not only cleaves to the Southern doctrine of racial hierarchy, he’s not big into social mobility either. For example: when Poinsett promotes Taylor and Lauderdale in Dead of Winter (1), Berrien notes to himself that, while good Virginians and more competent than Harney, he doesn’t like admitting that they’re better than Harney, who (correct me if I’m wrong) is their social superior in the Planter Aristocrat pecking order. From the way it’s worded, he’s distinctly unhappy with them being promoted and given their commands instead of the authority and total command being given over to Harney.

And now I’m wondering if that isn’t going to play into the impending Troubles.

After all, the Planter Aristocracy and it’s pretensions of superiority over all “lesser” forms of American social strata runs directly counter to the social dynamism that pervades the North’s culture, the ideal of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps or winning your fortune on an entrepreneurial roll of the dice. The Stablers, with their growing chemical and manufacturing empire, are a perfect example of this. And yet, the Southern Planters expect them to give it all up and buy a plantation of their own once they have the money for it, as though this was the highest ideal any man could aspire to; as though in order to “truly” join the upper crust, a man must do exactly as they do, act exactly as they act, live exactly the way they live. Leaving aside the racism bound up in the Southern Planter ideal, the constant expression that they are the only rightful American culture and everyone else is inherently their social, cultural and political inferior has got to grate, not only on Northerners of all economic backgrounds but also on poor white southerners, who not only have to endure that attitude all the time but also have only the thin, vain hope of one day climbing that social rung to placate them. And that thin hope can’t placate them forever, especially if they can visibly see that the social mobility they’re hoping for isn’t attainable, or worse, is actively being stifled by the Planter elite.
Pretty much, yes. Although the reason Berrien would have preferred Harney over Taylor and Lauderdale is that they were creatures of the establishment (meaning the DNP) who Berrien didn't count on to be on board with invading Texas, whereas Harney was a true believer in the plan.
 
Who’s been the major immigrant group to the USA in this ATL ?
You’re written about an earlier group of Italian and Flemish , are we going to see Dutch immigrants coming in bulk now?
And from what’s been hinted about Russia’s future, are we going to see a large number of Russians immigrants heading to the USA about 30 years earlier than OTL?
 
Half Slave, Half Free (4)
Who’s been the major immigrant group to the USA in this ATL ?
You’re written about an earlier group of Italian and Flemish , are we going to see Dutch immigrants coming in bulk now?
And from what’s been hinted about Russia’s future, are we going to see a large number of Russians immigrants heading to the USA about 30 years earlier than OTL?
There have already been a lot more Dutch immigrating than IOTL, along with the Italians in the late 1810s. The biggest groups are still Germans, British, and Irish. There will be Russians immigrating sooner, along with a lot of Poles (spoiler—this particular rebellion isn't going to succeed).
You know what I haven't talked about much? The U.S. Supreme Court…


The question thus presented is of great importance, but not of great difficulty. The Constitution was ordained and established for the federal government of the United States, and not for the government of the individual States[1]…
Hugh Garland, arguing for the prosecution in Missouri v. Rankin

Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows. And yet, in the state of Missouri—and in many other states of the Union, sadly—my client is not free to say these words. Nor am I, nor my opposing counsel, nor indeed anyone in this room. Not even Your Honors are free to speak such words in Missouri if a Negro happens to be listening…
Lysander Spooner[2], arguing for the defense in Missouri v. Rankin

December 6, 1839
U.S. Capitol

The vote was done. The seven men in the conference room off the Supreme Court Chamber[3] took a moment to look at each other, no one speaking.

Chief Justice Samuel Smith[4] looked at Baldwin. “Who will write the dissent?”

“I volunteer,” said McKinley. Catron and Baldwin both nodded. Of the three dissenters, 59-year-old John McKinley from Alabama was the least conflicted in his mind—he supported both slavery and states’ rights, and although no slaveholders were personally involved in Missouri v. Rankin, the defendant in the case was a free white man and none of the Negroes he had taught were slaves, everyone knew what the case was really about.

In jurisdictional disputes between the federal and state governments, 59-year-old Henry Baldwin from Connecticut typically advocated for the state. More to the point, while he had once called slavery “abhorrent to all of our ideas of natural right and justice,” in his years on the Supreme Court he had never yet ruled against slavery or the interests of slaveholders, and that included today. John Catron, on the other hand, was a champion of federal power, but he was also from Tennessee and a supporter of slavery, and apparently that was the deciding factor here.

“Very well,” said Smith. “I will write the majority opinion myself tonight.” Justices McLean, Story, and Thompson all looked a little disappointed at this. Joseph Story, from Massachusetts, was sixty and had a hatred of slavery that often came into conflict with his strong support for property rights. But the meetings in question had been held on private property, so there had never been any doubt that he would find for the defendant. The 54-year-old New Jerseyan John McLean was much the same—he’d never yet missed a chance to rule against slavery. If a slave let so much as a toe over the border into a free state, McLean would find a reason to free him.[5] Naturally, he had sided with the defendant. And 71-year-old Smith Thompson, who had once served in the J.Q. Adams administration, was in a fine rage against the Berrien administration for its treatment of the Cherokees.[6]

Any of them would have been only too happy to lay down the law in this matter. Entirely too happy, as far as Smith was concerned—this decision would change everything about the relationship between Washington and the states, and would have to be written with the greatest of care. Smith had the caution of a man who had come to the field of law and the judiciary rather later in life than usual. He was already composing the decision in his mind.

Smith gripped his cane and, slowly and carefully, rose from his chair. At twenty-four, he had not only swum a mill-pond during the retreat from Brooklyn, but had helped ferry some of his men across. Now he was eighty-seven, an age not many men ever lived to see, and did not dare fall down even on a carpeted floor. Pain wracked his chest as he rose, but it had wracked his chest a lot over the last few years, so he ignored it.

John Catron extended his arm. Catron was both the youngest and newest justice on the Supreme Court—he was fifty-three years old and had been appointed in 1837. He was easily young enough to be one of Smith’s surviving sons, and despite their disagreements, Smith had no objection to accepting his help out of the chamber.

The older Smith got—and these days, that was saying a great deal—the more conflicted and skeptical he became on slavery. He’d been born in Pennsylvania, where slavery was forbidden, but had spent much of his life as a slaveowner in Maryland. But his business affairs had been mostly in the field of commerce, and the Stabler boys showed how little slavery was needed there.

That, of course, raised the question of what happened to Negroes if—or, Smith suspected, when—slavery was ended. Given the choice, Smith would have liked to have seen the whole population restored to the continent of Africa[7], but that was not practical at all. As it was, the Negroes of Missouri—and other states—occupied a peculiar status, half slave and half free. Out of sheer eagerness to hold them to that status, the legislature of Missouri had trampled on the rights of white men. Was there any way at all to restrict black men’s rights without affecting white men’s? Luckily, I need not go quite that far in my decision. It is the authorities in Jefferson City that have gone too far, and they must be told so.

In his day, Smith had done great things and terrible things for freedom—fighting in some of the key battles of the Revolution, but also helping to drive Loyalists out of Maryland. I did not do all that so that we might grow our own tyrants here. He thought of the preamble to the Constitution—“secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.” Perhaps I could begin with a reference to that.


On December 7, 1839, the eighty-year-old Margaret Smith awoke to find that her husband, Chief Justice Samuel Smith, had passed away in his sleep. Stacked neatly on the desk in his study was his last act—the majority opinion in Rankin v. Missouri, which declared that the protection of the First Amendment extended to all free persons. “The very purpose of government is to protect the rights of its citizens,” he wrote in the decision that stunned the nation…
Andrea Fessler, The Waves From Sinepuxent


[1] This is a very slight rewording of Supreme Court Chief Justice John Marshall’s OTL decision in Barron v. Baltimore, in which the Court unanimously found that the Fifth Amendment, and by extension the entire Bill of Rights, conferred no protection against actions by state governments. (The court actually saw this as kind of a no-brainer. Not to belabor the obvious, but TTL’s United States is becoming a very different place.)
[2] Francis B. Murdoch was Rankin’s attorney in Missouri, but he’s fallen ill, so the eccentric 31-year-old Lysander Spooner had to argue the case before the Supreme Court.
[3] Throughout the 19th century, the Supreme Court didn’t have its own building and met in its own chamber in the Capitol.
[4] Another guy who really should get his own TL. Seriously, read his bio. Soldier in two wars, businessman, politician—he did it all. IOTL he was never on the Supreme Court, but was mayor of Baltimore as late as 1838, and died in April of 1839 at the age of 86. ITTL he owes his position as Chief Justice as much to his formidable CV as his knowledge of law.
[5] IOTL, McLean dissented from Dred Scott v. Sandford.
[6] IOTL he advocated for the Cherokees in Cherokee Nation v. Georgia (1831).
[7] IOTL he was involved in the Maryland State Colonization Society.
 
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So it’s not going to be any assassination of any prominent politician that will begin the time of troubles , it’s going to a Supreme Court decision.
What a demure and sedate way to start a large lengthy period of nation changing civil unrest :rolleyes:
 
Two comments.
1) Did this case exist iOTL (and was decided differently?)
2) I don't know what would happen legally in this case if a Justice died (especially on a decision that is 4-3 for 7 judges) before the opinion is actually delivered. Is the question of that here part of what starts the troubles? (and that any Justice appointed by Berrien to replace is going to be somewhere more pro slavery than McKinley)
 
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Two comments.
1) Did this case exist iOTL (and was decided differently?)
2) I don't know what would happen legally in this case if a Justice died (especially on a decision that is 4-3 for 7 judges) before the opinion is actually delivered. Is the question of that here part of what starts the troubles? (and that any Justice appointed by Berrien to replace is going to be somewhere more pro slavery than McKinley)
1. Not this particular case. The OTL equivalent was Barron v. Baltimore in 1833, in which a wharf owner sued the city for damage to his wharf on the grounds that it constituted private property being taken for public use without just compensation. The effect of the Marshall court's ruling was that state governments could do whatever their own constitutions allowed, and the Bill of Rights didn't protect against it.
2. As long as the Justice's vote is on record, there shouldn't be any problem. (Of course there probably will be some conspiracy theories…) But now not only does Berrien need to come up with a new justice (and choose a new Chief Justice) he needs to get these choices past a very unfriendly Senate.
 
Well. This should be fun (although thank goodness the court came to the less horrifying decision ITTL).

Speaking of Berrien, I’ve been re-reading the latter parts of this TL – in particular the bits about the 1836 election and the War of 1837 – and I’m growing increasingly suspect that there will be Shenanigans surrounding the 1840 election. Exactly what that will entail I can’t say, but the references to ‘Caesarism’, the heavy-handedness of the Georgia militia in Washington, and most of all Berrien’s insistence that he can make the people ready to fight his wars of conquest on the nation’s southern borders, all feel like harbingers of something very much ungood.
 
Well. This should be fun (although thank goodness the court came to the less horrifying decision ITTL).

Speaking of Berrien, I’ve been re-reading the latter parts of this TL – in particular the bits about the 1836 election and the War of 1837 – and I’m growing increasingly suspect that there will be Shenanigans surrounding the 1840 election. Exactly what that will entail I can’t say, but the references to ‘Caesarism’, the heavy-handedness of the Georgia militia in Washington, and most of all Berrien’s insistence that he can make the people ready to fight his wars of conquest on the nation’s southern borders, all feel like harbingers of something very much ungood.
The South - or at least the Lower South, and Georgia especially - is *far* more paranoid about the rest of the country "interfering with their way of life" than at this point OTL - hell in some ways worse than even OTL's 1850s, what with a very openly abolitionist colony *right there* on the border, meaning slaves from across the Lower South have a far closer escape destination than they ever did OTL. Plus, the South is effectively out of territory to expand their institutions into - and given what we just saw with the late war, *no one* in the free states is going to support another war near-term. (It has been confirmed, IIRC, that there'll be at least one more round of Anglo-American wars, but that's probably not until 1860 or so.)

Plus, as we've started to see with the Stablers and so on, the Upper South states like Maryland/Virginia are already seeing that they don't need slavery - if anyone of those states moves to abolish, that could make things worse. On the other hand it also means that those states are unlikely to support Berrien and any TQ backers he has if he does anything funny after 1840. (Put it this way: If, for some reason, someone tries to form a Confederate States ITTL - probably with Georgia instead of SC leading the way - Virginia is likely to not seced, and might be less support elsewhere as well.) But given all that you said, I can absolutely see Berrien being up to something - although I don't think he'll be successful in the slightest.

1840 is going to be an interesting year, and I look forward to it. Or are we going to get one of those interludes before moving on, so we can see what the rest of the world was up to while everyone was watching the War of 1837 and the not!Crimean War (what was it called again)?
 
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