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ASIN: B08LMMDCH3
John Roy came to New Orleans with
his family in 1843. He found
prosperity and a home. He was
assistant supervisor to Beauregard
building the Custom House when the
war erupted. It was only natural
when the Civil War broke out he
would remain loyal to Louisiana. He
built cannons to arm the forts but
he soon discovered that the sea and
ships beckoned to him, He built one
of the few submarines and helped
outfit some of the most famous
Confederate warships. After the fall
of his city, he ended the war
helping build the CSS Missouri, the
last Confederate ironclad to
surrender in American waters. Follow
his only slightly fictionalized
story told here for the first time.
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Prologue
A cold wind blew down Crawford Street in Vicksburg,
Mississippi on January 17, 1860. A man stepped out from
the post office. He pulled the stylish black overcoat
tighter around his short compact body and straightened
his top hat on his thinning ginger-colored hair then
began to walk toward Washington Street at a brisk pace.
He had just turned towards Clay Street when he heard the
sound of an angry voice shouting “Damn you to hell,
William!”
He felt a brief sharp sting as a bullet entered his chest. He saw
the sheet of newsprint flung into his face. His last
thought as he lay on the ground was, “Elizabeth will
miss me.”
Fred Hammett had just stepped outside after sorting mail
inside the post office all morning when he heard the
shot ring out around the corner. He rushed out from the
post office and saw the body sprawled in a pool of blood
just steps away. Farther down the street he saw a tall,
thin man running towards Clay Street. He bent down to
feel the prone figure’s wrist for a pulse he knew he
would not find. It seemed like only seconds while a
crowd gathered around and the police stood over him.
“What happened here, sir?” the tallest officer asked.
Fred explained that he worked in the post office and heard the
shot. He continued “I ran to the corner and saw this man
lying on the ground. I only touched his wrist. I did see
a man running that way.” He pointed east “He was tall
and thin.”
The other officer having determined that none of the onlookers had
seen anything had disbursed the crowd. He joined his
partner and the two officers turned the body face up.
Fred gasped. The first officer looked up “Do you know
who this man is?” he asked Fred.
Fred turned his head away and gagged a little then he
managed to swallow and nodded. He murmured, “Yes. It’s
Mr. William Roy. He was just in the post office mailing
a letter.”
The other officer stooped and picked up the crumpled newspaper
partly covered with blood. It was a January ninth
edition of The Daily Sun with a headline reading “Legacy
of John Brown.” Fred pointed to the paper. “That’s him.”
The officer looked puzzled. Fred clarified. “He’s the editor who
wrote that, Mr. William Douglas Roy. He’s partners with
Mr. McCollum at the Daily Sun.”
The officer read aloud.
Several days ago, the government in Washington
appointed a Senate committee to investigate the recent
events around the slave rebellion at Harpers Ferry,
Virginia led by the odious John Brown. Our own
Mississippi Congressman, William Barksdale, became so
incensed at the opinions of that upstart Pennsylvania
congressman, Thaddeus Stevens that he drew his Bowie
knife to attack the Republican abolitionist. Whilst the
arguments rage fast and furious in Washington and that
backwoods ape, Lincoln seems to gain favor daily among
the Black Republicans whilst we Southerners cannot even
make up our minds on a suitable Democratic candidate. To
this reporter, the facts are obvious. John C.
Breckenridge is our only choice for president of the
United States.
It would seem in this humble journalist’s opinion that
that madman Brown may have set off a spark that will
send this entire union up in a burst of conflagration by
his well-justified hanging. The writer Victor Hugo is
quoted as saying “Politically speaking, the murder of
John Brown would be an uncorrectable sin. It would
create in the Union a latent fissure that would in the
long run dislocate it. Brown's agony might perhaps
consolidate slavery in Virginia, but it would certainly
shake the whole American democracy.”
Perhaps it is the time for loyal Democrats of
Mississippi to start forming militia units to defend
ourselves against the inevitable…
The officer looked at his two companions. “It goes on in the same
manner for a lot more print space. Could this be the
reason the assailant left the paper behind? Maybe he is
an abolitionist?”
Fred shook his head, “I doubt that. Look at what is below the fold.
That is also a possible explanation.”
The officer again began to read what was legible below the
bloodstain.
Thus I hereby charge Daniel Sheppard, former Daily Sun bookkeeper,
with embezzlement from the Sun office. Mr. Shepherd was
originally arrested and imprisoned on this charge, at
New Orleans, but was released under writ of habeas
corpus, returned to Vicksburg, underwent an examination,
lasting two days, before magistrate's court, and was
acquitted of the charge. Any company considering hiring
this scoundrel had better look long and hard at his
record.”
By this time the ambulance had arrived and proceeded to collect the
body. One of the officers informed the driver to notify
Mr. McCollum at the Daily Sun. He then thanked Fred and
turned to his partner. “I think we best speak with Mr.
Daniel Sheppard.”
Chapter 1
John Roy stepped from the Court House into the cold damp
evening. This was a typical January day in New Orleans.
The sting of cold penetrated his woolen overcoat,
flowered waistcoat, shirt, and undershirt right down to
his stocky chest. Even his face felt chilled despite his
thick reddish beard. He had experienced a very trying
day at the New Custom House in New Orleans. He was proud
of his position as assistant to Major P. T. Beauregard
but it was by far the most challenging position he had
held since arriving in this country almost twenty years
ago.
His luck came from the fact that he had chosen to settle his family
in New Orleans when they arrived from Dundee, Scotland
in 1842. New Orleans was a seaport as well as a river
port like his home city of Dundee, Scotland. The choice
had been easy. John had always loved ships and here they
were even more vital to the city than in Dundee. The
mighty Mississippi connected the American heartland and
the rest of the world...
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