They both wrote counterfactual narratives about Confederate victory in the American Civil War.
Actually, this genre of counterfactualism goes back further than even the past century…even before the war itself.
In 1836, a fifty-two-year-old law professor at William and Mary, Nathaniel Beverley Tucker, produced The Partisan Leader, imagining the dire consequences of a fourth Van Buren administration. Set in 1849, a Southern Confederacy has been formed out of opposition to the federal government’s oppressive tariffs. Virginians in particular rise up to defeat Federal forces and win their independence. The Old Dominion’s victory, in turn, secures the South’s freedom.
A generation later, another Virginian, militant secessionist Edmund Ruffin, wrote Anticipations of the Future, published in early September 1860, to warn Southerners about what would happen if the Republicans won the White House. In his story, Lincoln wins the presidential election, but serves a term without taking action against the South or slavery. But the Railsplitter’s moderation angers radical abolitionists to such an extent that they deny Lincoln a second nomination. Instead, they turn to William H. Seward as their presidential candidate in 1864. Once elected, he proves to be such a vengeful enemy of the South that in December 1867, six Deep South states secede. Seward sends an army into Virginia, which courageous Southerners soon whip. The Seward government flees to Albany, New York. The rest of the South secedes and a Confederacy is formed; a beaten Seward is forced to concede its sovereignty.1
By Stephen Davis
uick: what do Winston Churchill (1874–1965), British prime minister, and Mackinlay Kantor (1904–1977), American novelist, have in common?
Less well-known (in a genre that is admittedly rather obscure anyway) is a short story, “If Lincoln Had Yielded,” in Century Magazine’s issue of June 1926. Here, a New York sociology professor schools a British reporter on how Lincoln had wisely withdrawn Major Anderson’s garrison from Sumter, and let the wayward Southern states go their own ways in peace.
“A most fortunate solution,” the Englishman observes.
Afterward, the Confederate government finds a way to end slavery around 1900, and the South manages to maintain an aristocratic society that is the envy of Northerners.
“We send our daughters to Southern finish-schools,” the professor explains; “wealthy men put their sons into Southern counting-houses to acquire manners.”
Then Professor Maveety ponders a might-have-been:
A few years later, in December 1930, Winston Churchill (then a member of Parliament) published in Scribner’s Magazine a wry short story, “If Lee Had Not Won the Battle of Gettysburg.” Here, in the war’s decisive battle, on the third day Lee launches a massive assault by the divisions of Pickett, Pettigrew and Trimble that cracks the Federal line wide open and sends Meade’s soldiers fleeing. Stuart’s cavalry, having encircled the Union flank, swoops down upon the enemy’s rear and completes the rout of the Army of the Potomac. The Confederate army enters Washington three days later. General Lee then astounds the world by not only dictating peace terms, but also by proclaiming the emancipation of Southern slaves. This bold act deprives Northern radicals of their main motivation for war, abolition. It also encourages England to ally itself with the Confederacy. Without support at home and abroad, Lincoln has little choice but to sue for peace. The Treaty of Harpers Ferry is signed on Sept. 6, 1863.3 “If the secession of the South had been prevented by force, all that beautiful aristocracy might have been destroyed and the whole region from Virginia to the gulf, from the Carolinas to Texas, would probably be overrun with industrialism, Rotary Clubs and primary schools.”