Chapter 212: The Lion of America
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Columbia, Federal District, the United States of America
February 10th, 1837

Eric Grant twirled his pen and gripped his notebook a little tighter. His eyes darted from his watch to the empty podium looming in front of him. He had camped out on the lawn in front of Capitol Hill since yesterday to get the best seat for the Inauguration, which netted him a front-row seat despite being an unknown reporter from a small town in Michigan. The Flint Weekly wasn’t as prestigious as the New York Times, the Boston Daily, or the Pennsylvania Gazette. Yet, it was his own pride and joy, and thousands of local readers relied on him for their news, including information about the new president.

Unlike previous inauguration ceremonies, the lawn and the surrounding areas were bare, with a distinct lack of decorations. Only a few flags were draped here and there. There were hardly any food vendors, and every other person he saw looked thin and pale. Many were shivering in worn coats and jackets, with only a few wearing scarves and hats. Even the government officials and famous figures sitting behind the stage looked exhausted, though they were dressed better than most. It seemed like he was looking at the scene through a black, white, and gray photograph.

Yet, the large crowd of thousands was in good spirits, most likely due to the Independence Day celebrations from a week earlier. Not even the cold, downcast weather and atmosphere could dampen the crowd. The air was filled with chatter and shouts, with a few rowdy folks waving large signs from Nathaniel’s campaign trail. Popular slogans such as “He won us the war, he’ll win us the peace” and “Samuel’s Mantle, Nathaniel can Handle” were seen. A band of roving musicians entertained the crowd by playing patriotic songs from the Anglo-American War on their banjos and violins. A young woman attempted to launch a firework at the edge of the lawn but was pulled aside and scolded by a police officer. People jeered at the sight but changed their tune when the firework launched anyways: a faded, blue and red star lighting up the sky.

During the commotion, a person elbowed him in the ribs by accident, causing him to gasp and stagger. He flapped his arms to avoid falling into the crowd, but someone caught him and planted him onto his feet. “Ya gotta watch ya’self. Almos’ time and dey ah getting rowdy.”

He turned to come face to face with a light-skinned woman with brown hair and a cheerful grin. Her arms were skinny, yet her grip was powerful. “Thank you.”

“An’e time. Da name’s Jill.” She pointed at his notebook. “Ya a reporta’?”

“Yep, for the Flint Weekly,” Eric answered with pride.

“What state?”

“Michigan.”

“Near Ohio?”

“Got it in one.”

“Ah’m from Texas, but used ta liv’ in Jefferson.”

Eric blinked. “And I thought I was coming from faraway.”

“Fok’s from everee’ state ah here. Not jus’ the states, but sum from Greenland and even dos islands in the Adlantic’.”

“Really? I have to go find some and interview them.”

She chuckled. “Dey a… different sort. Ya’ll find dem fast.”

After chatting for a few minutes, their conversation was cut short by a loud voice piercing through the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Eighth President of the United States of America: Nathaniel Napoleon Bonapart.”

A small band played “Hail to the Chief” as the new president walked onto the stage with a cane and shook hands with President Peters, who smiled haggardly at his successor. Eric blinked as the departing president shambled away in his ill-fitting suit, his iconic top hat barely hanging onto his white hair. Comparing the two, Eric found it difficult to believe that Peters was younger than Bonapart by more than twenty years.

“He don look too good,” Jill commented.

“The war took its toll,” Eric answered. “I guess even the president wasn’t safe from it.”

“Hob he turns ou’ well. He needa vacation.”

“After what he’s been through, I say he deserves it. He was a great leader during our nation’s darkest time.”

She shook her head. “If he was a grea’ ‘leada,’ he wouldna hab let Jefferson burn down.”

“It is easier to judge the actions of the past than it is to lead for the future.”

“From a book?”

“No, my pa.”

Chief Justice Joseph Story administered the oath with a bible, and Bonapart recited it solemnly. His shoulders dipped as he spoke as if God was placing great weight on his shoulders. Eric noted the choice of swearing the oath with the bible and recalled some of the complaints towards Bonapart during his campaign. Some accused Bonapart of being a ‘Papal agent’ due to his Catholic beliefs, while others protested him for his age. Still, others claimed he was too aggressive and militaristic, which was ironic considering Kim was a general.

However, while looking at the new president, Eric noted that he looked… presidential. The president straightened his posture as he relaxed behind the podium. His eyes were friendly yet fierce and fiery. His blue suit jacket was perfectly ironed, and a small American flag pin was on his collar. As he opened his mouth, a loud cheer rang out, and for a few minutes, the crowd was unruly and uncontrollable.

President Bonapart seemed as though he was born for the job of a nation’s leader and took the crowd in stride. He waved at each individual he could see, including Eric, before motioning with his hand for the public to quiet down. They obliged almost instantly.

Eric sincerely hoped that this old man would survive two terms.

“Thank you.” President Bonapart shouted. There was a megaphone in front of him to amplify his speech. However, since the crowd was massive, there were officials toward the back holding up signs with the president’s speech written on them. “It has certainly been an exciting year. To this day, I am still shocked and humbled to be standing up here today, but I thank all of you for your support. This day is not a victory for myself but for the American people!”

The crowd roared in reply, and even Eric was swept up in the atmosphere. Next to him, Jill looked smitten and cheered as well.

“I will speak frankly for a moment. Our nation is in rough shape, a poor shadow of its former glory. Yet, our nation has been a tale of endurance, of courage. I have no doubts that we will endure, as we have always endured. The worst is over, and we will return victorious!”

He then proceeded to announce his plan for the nation. He would tackle the Reconstruction of the South, unemployment, and the ‘senseless violence’ that plagued parts of the country. It would result in the most significant expansion of the federal government since Kim. He assured the crowd that while the American government would be entering a period of deficit spending, he would keep the situation carefully controlled and ensure that the inflated budget would only be used for the benefit of the American people. “Drastic times necessitate drastic actions,” as he stated simply.

Some ideas from Bonapart’s platform stuck out to Eric, such as the healthcare program and the ‘Relief Administration.’ They were foreign, even to a progressive constitutional republic as the United States. Eric had no idea how Bonapart came up with these proposals since they were extremely radical and head-turning. Perhaps the war had invoked some thoughts in him… yet even still, one man had changed the beliefs and demands of the majority in a very short time.

That may be why he was elected president; he had ideas that were completely unique and appealing to the public. Millions had been injured during the war, and even more had suffered the traumatic aftermath of seeing the nation struggle and teeter on the edge of collapse. They couldn’t rely on the ‘old and reliable’ ways of the past anymore. New, fresh ideas were needed to transform the republic into something even more extraordinary.

“We must remember our past: our mistakes, our resolve, and our victory. However, now is the time to look to the future. We cannot linger and dawdle, reminiscing about a yesterday that was. We must rebuild our country and make it greater than it was before. We owe it to those who made the greatest sacrifice for our nation and ourselves. The war has not yet ended; we must win the peace. A peace where the war is no longer a spectre visible in our everyday lives.”

Eric thought that was a terrific quote and scribbled it into his journal. No matter how much people wanted that past, the past couldn't be changed. He hadn’t suffered much during the war, working in a factory while many others volunteered to fight for the nation. Yet, he had seen the orphans, widows, and thousands of crippled and maimed people in Michigan.

They had to look to the future: a future where this war was a footnote in American history, not a permanent fixture that plagued the nation.

“And to that end, I must ask the people for their cooperation. Do not merely ask what the country can do for you, but commit yourself to your country. I have sacrificed all my other interests for the interests of this country and my happiness for the happiness of its people. As selfish as it is for me to ask the same for all of you, I must ask all of you, in the future, to make the same realizations that I have. We will need workers, doctors, administrators, and soldiers to make my plan a reality. We will need the support of millions willing to carry out the titanic tasks ahead of us as we rebuild entire states from ruins. It is an ambitious plan, but it can not be done by myself and Congress alone. We will need the nation’s spirit and will, two indestructible forces, behind this plan, for it to succeed. If the people truly want my promises to materialize into reality, I have no doubts that we will succeed.”

“Because the way forward is not through violence or accusations. Nor is it through complacency or bitterness. It is through the unbreakable will that guided our nation throughout its entire history. A will to challenge the frontiers, to explore the unknown, to test our boundaries, and to be pioneers of hope and liberty in this dark world. All eyes, both domestic and foreign, will be upon us, but I would not have it any other way. We will deliver and show the world why we are the United States of America. We will not go down so easily; even if we do, we will roar in defiance until the very end. Thank you, and God Bless America.”

Eric was the first to clap and shout in approval, or he liked to believe he was the first. However, the crowd of thousands of people of varying races, religions, home states, and social statuses roared immediately at the end of the president’s speech.

Nathaniel, no Napoleon, the Lion of Corsica and America, was what the people needed. A visionary that would carry on the torches of the past and light them brighter for the future. There was a distinct ripple in the air, and Eric could almost touch it.

Change was coming.

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Entry in the Worldwide Online Encyclopedia (WOE), Edited on September 15th of 2022:

Eric Grant (February 6th, 1807 - May 9th, 1882) was an American journalist, author, and teacher. Born in Flint, Michigan, Grant would begin his literary career as the Editor-in-Chief of the Flint Gazette, which would later grow to become one of the largest newspapers in the state of Michigan. In 1841, he would publish his first book, which is considered one of the greatest classics of the post-Anglo-American War era: Gone with the Wind, a novel about a struggling war veteran trying to invent a way to return to the past to save his family (who were killed in the war), abandoning his future in doing so. The last line of the book is considered a timeless quote about the struggle between the past and the present:

“As he buried the final memories of his deceased family, he heard the voices of the dead behind him and looked up, his resolve shaken, and they were, once again, gone with the wind.”

Grant is considered the father of the ‘alternate history’ genre, writing a separate series of novels called “1443” (published in 1845). The ten-book series follows a group of Americans attempting to stop the Anglo-American War from ripping their families apart, only to land in Constantinople ten years before its fall…

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AN: It’s a bit late, but rest in peace, Eric Flint. He was an inspiration to many, including myself, and he will always be influencing the future of alternate history writers forever.

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