The Legend of Garison Fitch (Book 1): First Time (48 page)

If anything happened during the next few centuries, I must have slept through it. However, I was at least partially cognizant of the fact that colonies had finally gotten a small toe hold on the Columbian Obstacle (sometimes known as America) by the seventeenth century. By the eighteenth century, the New Country had become so crowded that each man only had about a million acres apiece. This, of course, made them see the necessity for more land so they began to kill the original inhabitants who had had the gall to occupy the land first.

France, Italy, Spain and Germany had settlers in the new world, but it was only the English settlers who caused any trouble of note. Hasn't this always been the way of things?

There were something like twelve or thirteen British colonies on this land called America by the mid eighteenth century. All of them were on the east coast of the continent as everyone thought the western lands were full of savages and strange beasts.

These colonies were governed by England, but only in theory. If I remember right, the British magistrates who ruled the colonies sometimes did so by their own laws and whims—and for their own profit. After all, the King (whatever his name was—they seemed to have a lot named Henry and a couple name George) was three months away by a fast ship. A lot of money could be taken in by a crooked magistrate in the three months before someone came along to stop him.

I think what irritated the colonists the most, though, was Britain's Parliament. It had been established by an illustrious document called the Magna Carta, but most people in my time thought that was some sort of wine. In theory, it was an organization which operated by the vote of the people; somehow, however, they had forgotten to give the colonists a vote.

What I remember of this next part is almost laughable. Thirteen insignificant colonies rebelled against the most powerful empire in the world—and won—mostly by virtue of the fact that England was fighting more important wars on other fronts. It took them from about 1774 until 1791 to defeat their oppressors, but the plucky little colonists did it. Many historians believe they could have done it much quicker had they had a really good leader. Unfortunately, the colonies began by fighting independently and were only saved from certain disaster when Samuel Adams stepped to the fore of the army and rallied them together in the fall of 1786. Using guerilla tactics, the colonists successfully drove the British from their soil, but at great cost to themselves.

The glory was short lived, however (by historical comparison). The rag-tag congress that met in Boston in 1793 was unable to find its rear, let alone establish a country. So, after fighting themselves out from under a monarchy, they elected a President and gave him power they didn't comprehend—effectively placing themselves under a monarchy with another name.

Their choice for first President of this new Republic (which they laughably called the United States) was one Mister John Adams, brother to the aforementioned Samuel. While he might have been able to govern an established system, he was at a loss for how to establish one himself. His administration was marked by confusion and a revolving door of advisors. By the time his four years of elected term had come to an end, the country was in a shambles.

As John Adams was ridden out of the country on a rail, the people elected a man named Thomas Jefferson. He probably could have been the President they needed had they elected him first, but it was too late for him to do anything by the time he got to office (in a Boston building that was, itself, a joke). He got the country onto shaky feet just in time for the British to sweep in in the spring of 1800 and quash the rebellion. Jefferson, Samuel Adams, and a score of other revolutionaries were executed and buried in a communal grave outside Boston. The United States of America would, from that point forward, be nothing more than a trivia question for people who enjoyed studying about failure.

The British ruled their colonies with an iron hand, but they did allow the thirteen colonies two representatives in the House of Commons. They were picked by the House of Lords and only one of the two had ever been to the Americas (unfortunately, he had been sick and bed-ridden the whole time). The other one, however, had done some extensive reading on the subject (having read the books of a man named Cooper, who was executed alongside Adams and Jefferson, and claimed to have from them an especially good perspective on the aboriginal problem in the Americas).

It was decided by some in Parliament that their biggest mistake with the colonies had been to allow them religious freedom. This, they said, bred discontent and rabble rousers. So, in a close vote, it was decided that only the Anglican church was to be allowed in the British Americas, as they were called.

Despite the heavy protests, the Baptists, the Methodists, the Quakers, the Puritans, the Presbyterians and all other sects were banned. This was enforced with imprisonment and, possibly, execution. In the 1810's, a man named Thomas Campbell, along with his son Alexander, sought to turn the Church of England "back to the New Testament." Their movement spread rapidly, but it lost its momentum upon the hanging of both Campbells from a brush-arbor church they had created themselves. It was clear that the Anglican Church, which claimed to be Christian, had decided it wanted nothing to do with the New Testament and a lot to do with the power of the monarchy.

The land called America existed in relative piece for a few years, but then the British began to move westward. More and more people, some with families, began to move into that savage wilderness to the west. This made it clear that something must be done with the aboriginal population. The decision was simple and quickly made; the follow-up, however, was not. But, by 1834, the Indians (as our friend Columbus had so inappropriately named them) were—for all practical purposes—dead. From the Atlantic ocean to the Spanish Colonies just across the great river in the west, there were no more aborigines—except the few lucky enough to have light enough skin to pass for an Anglo and a couple tribes like the Navaho who had been able to convince the British they could live like white people and wouldn't cause any trouble. The next problem the British had to deal with was the Spanish.

Part of the Spanish problem was taken care of by a band of men calling themselves Texans. A man named Sam Houston had watched from a distance as his friend, Andrew Jackson, was executed by the British redcoats for his part in trying to revive the United States. By clandestine methods, Houston left the east coast and came to a land called Texas. Some would say he jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. For, while the eastern rebels were just ending their conflict, Texas was just beginning its own. But with Houston's arrival Texas had what the defeated U.S. had not: a leader.

In a swamp caused by the San Jacinto River meeting the Gulf of Mexico, Sam Houston routed the troupes of one Santa Anna and won freedom for the people of Texas. He was elected their first President, and a plucky little Republic was born.

As the Spanish withdrew south, it then became somewhat of a race between the Texans and the Brits to make it to the west coast. The race ended when the Spanish realized that the west coast—California, they called it—was worth fighting for and they claimed it. So, the continent relaxed into the last third of the nineteenth century with three nations sharing its land. The borders were testy, but calm.

It might have stayed this way forever had not Kaiser Bill decided he wanted to rule the world. "The War to End all Wars" was fought from 1914-1925 before Bill was finally defeated. Many believe it could have ended much sooner if the British Americas had provided more support. But, they were still stifled by Parliament and had only recently been allowed to carry weapons. This meant that Britain's only two allies were the few bullish Texans and the numerous but unorganized Russians.

The Russians were unorganized because they had just recently been turned upside down. Their centuries old system of tzars was now in the rubbish pile and a new idea—known as communism—was arising. Under a man named Stalin (who had read the works of Marx but never paid any attention to them) the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics rose quietly to prominence.

The world missed much of this rise because they were too busy watching a madman named Adolph Hitler come to power in Germany. A former aid to the Kaiser, he had pulled the defeated and destroyed nation together and put it back on its feet. By 1939, the world was back where it had been in 1914—waiting for Germany to attack.

In 1941, the Japanese attacked the west coast of America and had soon overthrown the underequipped and poorly led Mexican armies. By 1945, they had cast the Russians out of Alaska because the Russians were too busy fighting the man with the little mustache to worry about another section of frozen tundra. By 1948, the Japanese were knocking on Texas' door and the leaders at Austin were forced to recall many of their troupes from Europe in order to fight the more immediately threatening menace at home.

In 1952, it looked as if Hitler would finally be defeated. He was hard-pressed on both fronts and it looked like the end. Mussolini—disheartened and weakened by pneumonia—had surrendered the previous winter, and all looked black for the Third Reich. But the madman played his hole card.

It was an offensive of two airplanes that brought the war to an end. The first airplane left a German-held airfield in western France while it's counterpart was refueling over the enemy territory of Russia. Then, it happened.

On June 17, 1952, the world entered the nuclear age as the first atomic bomb was dropped over London. The ultimate death count exceeded a million people when the fires were put out. The British were forced to surrender when another bomb dropped on Glasgow two days later.

Meanwhile, bombs had also dropped on Leningrad and Moskva. But as Hitler waited for news of the Russian capitulation, a rallied and angry Russian army swept across Germany like men possessed and ended the Third Reich. When the new year rang in, Europe was an entirely communist continent. Britain and its colonies had been under German rule for less than seven weeks before the Russians took over.

The Texans were able to fight off the depleted Japanese troops, and a cease-fire was called in the summer of 1951. The war had provided no winners, but millions had lost. The continent of the Americas soon had an entirely new face. The emperor Hirohito ruled the western coast of the continent, Khrushchev controlled most of the rest, and the defiant Texans stood their ground in the middle.

If the Russians had listened to Khrushchev, the Americas would have been theirs by the turn of the century, at the cost of all the resources the U.S.S.R. had. But wiser (or cowardly, depending on who you ask) heads prevailed, and the world was held in a cautious abeyance.

The world was more peaceful than it had been in two hundred years as the two super-powers watched over each other.

It was all a mask, however. For, under their calm exteriors, both sides searched frantically for what became known as The German Secret—the atom bomb. Somewhere, buried beneath the rubble of the Third Reich, lay the finder's means to ruling the world.

That's where the world stood, nervous toe to nervous toe, back there in March of 2005. If nothing else, at least maybe I averted the war that was sure to come...sooner or later.

To read more about Garison, Heather, Sarah and other Samuel Ben White characters and writings (including books about Edward, Garison’s grandson)—or even ask the author a question—go to garisonfitch.com.