TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club [Book 12]

by Robert P McAuley

  “No, General Sherman. He was captured along with his staff.” She returned to her seat and read as she sat, “Union General Sherman and four of his command were captured at his new command post before it was fully operational and secured. When the Confederates went over his maps they saw where his troops were bivouacked and their proposed route of attack. Because of this windfall of information along with the head of the Union forces the Confederates blocked their advance and thousands were ambushed, killed or captured. The attack on Atlanta was ended and Sherman’s ‘March to the Sea’ stopped cold. The defeat forced Abraham Lincoln to come to terms with the Confederacy ending the war with the nation divided.” She looked up from the printouts and added, “If this happens not only is the union divided but thousands of soldiers on both sides will die. Men who went on to do wonderful things. Men who became doctors, artists and just everyday parents whose children won’t be born.” She looked down and went on, “This must be stopped from happening.” She looked back up at the group, “All in favor of sending someone back to warn the general?”

  The four raised hands showed Alexis that it was unanimous and once again she had Ted enter the room. “Ted, I’ll need a hologram of myself for Bill Scott of the 1800 Club.”

  The rest of the group left the conference room as Ted activated the hologram program and in thirty-five minutes created one of Alexis Shuntly for the 1800 Club. He then called Edmund Scott, the liaison between The 1800 Club and the History Tracking Group and who just happens to be the future grandson of Bill Scott, president of the 1800 Club.

  DATELINE: OCTOBER 3, 2015 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY

  Bill entered his walk-in closet and fingered through the many outfits as he searched for one for tonight. He was about to take one out when he heard a knock on the door that allowed one to travel in time. Matt’s here. Could it be Edmund? he thought as he went to the door. He opened it and a big smile came on his face as he saw his future grandson, Edmund Scott standing there with a smile of his own that brought smile lines around his deep blue eyes.

  “Edmund! So good to see you,” Bill said as they hugged. “Come on in.” Bill closed the door and his grandson said, “It’s great to see you too, Bill.” He stepped back slightly and said as he inspected the outfit Bill still wore from his previous jaunt back in time, “1910?”

  “No, but close: 1904. I took a subway ride on the first train of the New York City subway system.”

  “Wow! You sure have some fun times.”

  “Hey, why don’t you join us for dinner this evening?” Bill asked, “Matt has a special menu planned.”

  Edmund nodded slowly and said, “That does sound great and I’m off duty, so sure. I’ll be here. What’s the date for tonight?”

  “October 3, 1862 and you can come in a tux. But it should be a period tux.”

  “No problem. When I go home I’ll check our wardrobe. What time?”

  “Around seven forty-five. Okay?”

  “I’ll be here. But first let me give you this.” He took the hologram out of his jacket pocket and passed the silver cylinder to Bill. He raised an eyebrow and asked with tongue in cheek, “Am I still invited after I gave you a work mission?”

  Bill placed the tube on the coffee table and patted his future grandson on his shoulder and said, “Edmund, you have a standing invite to have dinner with me and the 1800 Club any time you want. Now you better hurry home and change.”

  Two minutes later Bill activated the hologram on his coffee table.

  “Good day, Bill,” said a six-inch tall Alexis Shuntly. “Once again our group needs your help. But rather than take your valuable time I’ll let the hologram speak for itself.”

  The scene unfolded on top of the1854 Victorian Parlor table, which Bill referred to as his coffee table. The cherry wood, oval shaped table always seemed the best place to activate a hologram as the white and light blue veined marble insert always gave the hologram the look of a stage. The six-inch tall Alexis stood and faced the hologram that was brought back from 1862. The scene took no more than three minutes to play out and Bill understood the downcast look on her face.

  He quickly went to his laptop and opened the file marked: The 1800 Club Member’s Bios and hobbies. It took Bill five minutes to find the club member that he felt could fill the mission. He buzzed Matt.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Matt, can you tell me if Mr. Dave McKinnon has texted his RSVP for tonight’s dinner?”

  “One moment, sir.” Fifteen seconds later he added, “Yes, sir. Mr. McKinnon will attend tonight’s dinner.”

  “Thanks, Matt. Oh, and my grandson would like to attend as well. Can we fit an extra seat for him?”

  “No problem, sir. It will be quite enjoyable to have Mr. Edmund present.”

  “Great! See you shortly.”

  Bill went to his closet again. He selected a gray outfit with thin white pinstripes, took it out and looked at the illustration attached to the wooden hanger.

  The illustration that accompanied the outfit.

  He knew that by the 1860s the dress-coat had been relegated to strict use as evening formal wear. The double-breasted style with a notch collar and the front cut well back marked the wearer as a man who followed styles of the times. The coat had matching trousers and was worn with a contrasting waistcoat, which in this case was black. He wore a white, front four-folded shirt with a black tie that sat just below the starched white collar. His shoes were laced up black, low-cut with gray spats that were closed with pearl buttons. Bill opted to leave the tall beaver hat and white kid gloves behind.

  As he checked himself out in his full-length mirror there was a knock on the special door in his den. Bill opened it to find Edmund in a typical evening suit of 1862.

  “Hi again, Bill. How do I look?”

  His suit was a close copy of the one that Bill was wearing except that Edmund’s coat and trousers were black and his waistcoat gray with black buttons. His well-starched white shirt had a flat front and he wore a gray tie. He wore low cut black shoes with gray spats sporting black onyx buttons and he too left the tall hat and gray kid gloves behind.

  “You look fantastic! You are going to drive the women crazy.”

  There was a tap on the other door of his den and Bill called out, “Come on in, Matt.”

  Matt entered the room and with a rare show of affection smiled as he offered his hand to Edmund. “Mr. Edmund, how very nice to see you again, sir. I’m told that you will be joining us this evening?”

  “Yes, Matt,” the young time traveler said as they shook hands. “I’m told that you have a special menu for tonight’s dinner and I just had to attend.”

  “Well I do hope you enjoy it.” He looked at Bill and said, “Sir, all of the club members who are attending are present and dinner will be served at eight twenty-five this evening.”

  “Thanks, Matt. We’ll be right down.”

  Matt left the room and Edmund asked, “Are you going on this mission?”

  Bill shrugged and answered, “I’m not sure that I know enough about the battle for Atlanta and I believe that one of our members would be perfect for it.’

  “Does he know of the time travel capability the club has?”

  Bill shook his head and said, “No, and that’s the iffy part. It’s always tough trying to read someone when they are told of the time travel capability. So far all have handled it well and I thank the 1800 Club for that as they are constantly training for a trip back without even knowing it.” He looked at his pocket watch and said as he snapped it shut, “Five minutes to eight. Let’s go downstairs and mingle.”

  The two walked down the deeply carpeted hallway past the group of bedrooms before they reached the stairway that would take them down to the main room. “Remember you’re my nephew from New Jersey,” Bill said as they went down the wide stairs.

  “Right. Will your two time traveling friends be here tonight?”

  “You mean John Brand and Rocko Perna? Yep. I heard from bo
th yesterday.”

  Once at the bottom, music and laughter could be heard coming from the main room. Before entering Bill picked up one of the newspapers that were fanned out on the table in front of the door to the room.

  They entered and as usual whenever Bill entered, the crowd stopped talking and acknowledged him with a nod and at times a small bow. He waved them to go on with their conversations as he and Edmund walked towards the back right hand corner of the large room where his two friends, John Brand and Rocko Perna stood as they smoked a cigar and sipped wine. Bill grinned as he could hardly see John because Rocko’s very wide back and shoulders blocked his view. But with his six-foot two-inch height over Rocko’s five-foot eight-inch height, John spotted them coming and said with a slight bow, “Mister President,” how kind of you to join us.”

  Rocko turned and with a smile said, “Good evening, Mister President. Please join us.”

  “Gentlemen,” Bill answered as he shook hands with them. “So very nice to see you both.” He turned to Edmund and went on, “I’m sure you remember my ‘nephew’ Edmund. He visited today and took me up on my dinner invitation.”

  The three men shook hands as John said, “Edmund, it’s good to see you again. Hope you had a smooth trip.”

  “Yes, in fact I did, sir. Quite fast too.”

  “Are you on vacation or just passing through?” asked Rocko as he flicked an ash off the sleeve of his black business suit.

  “Just joining you all for dinner tonight then I must return home.”

  Rocko nodded and added, “It’s nice to see another person that likes to wear their hair on the long side.”

  “Ha,” quipped John whose dirty blonde hair was buzzed close on the sides and just slightly longer on the top, “I just finished telling Rocko that should he join the Union Army Balloon Corp. Of course he would have to wear his hair like mine to save weight in the balloon.”

  Edmund remembered that John wore captain’s bars on the shoulders of his blue Union Army uniform and the silver balloon emblem on his breast denoted that he was with the fledging Balloon Corp. He knew that one of John’s ancestors wore the same type uniform. Rocko’s sharply cut and expensive business suit on the other hand, told the club members that he was imitating an ancestor who was a successful businessman.

  “Gentlemen, the night offers us a chance to get some fresh air on the balcony before dinner is served,” said Bill as he opened the floor to ceiling French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

  “Now,” said Bill, as he knew that club members who didn’t know of the time travel capability of the club could not overhear them, “John, Rocko, we only have a few minutes before Matt calls us in to dinner. Do either of you two know anything about club member Dave McKinnon?”

  Both John and Rocko nodded and John, dropping the title ‘president’ answered, “He’s a good guy, Bill. As you must know he joined the club about seven months ago.”

  “And,” added Rocko as he pushed back a handful of black hair, “he stays in ‘club time’ all the time.”

  “Hey,” John said with a make believe look of disappointment on his handsome face, “I’m jealous, Bill. There must be a mission and you choose him. What does he do that I can’t do?”

  “Me too!” added Rocko matching John’s faux sad face. “What’s his forte?”

  “Hey guys, you know that whenever possible I send either one of you and at times both of you and myself too. McKinnon is a Union Army re-enactor plus he’s a cartographer.”

  “Bill,” said John, “you know that me and Rocko are pulling your leg. If you think that McKinnon has the tools necessary to fix a hiccup in time, you have to use him.”

  “I knew that you guys were kidding and you both know that you two are the first I go to when there’s a mission. It’s just that this is different and the guy I choose needs to have a very high survival skill in a wooded environment.”

  “There he is now, Bill,” said Rocko as he looked into the brightly lit room. “He’s wearing the uniform of a Union Army Captain. I can see a crossed flags insignia on his breast.”

  “Yes, that’s the Signal Corp. He’s with the cartographer group. They did all of the map-making which was a huge help to General Sherman as when they went south, the army lived off of the land and the cartographers went out first and made the maps for the General Staff. Without them the Union Army might have wandered around in the same area for weeks at a time instead of being able to move quickly and capture Atlanta.”

  The six-foot Dave McKinnon stood at ease as he puffed away on a cigar, one hand behind his back. The well-tanned broad shouldered man wore his dark brown hair on the long side and his mustache trimmed in a thin line that curved up when he laughed as he did in his conversation with Linda Sachs, a tall blonde woman dressed as cow-puncher. Bill knew that her great-great grandmother ran a ranch that sold cows to the army and joined in any roundup that she could. She polished Captain McKinnon’s silver captain bars with her bandana and Bill thought he saw the man blush as his brown eyes closed tight for a moment.

  John said, “Hey guys I just saw Matt at the door to the great room. I guess dinner is ready.”

  “Okay,” said Bill, “Let’s go and eat. Matt has a special menu this evening and I think we’ll all enjoy it.”

  Rocko opened the doors and Bill said as they left the balcony, “I’m going ahead and ask McKinnon to sit with me before he’s cornered by Linda Sachs.”

  “Are you going to tell him tonight?” asked John as he squashed his cigar into one of the high standing ashtrays.

  .”I’m not sure. I met him once when he joined and never really got to chat it up with him. We’ll see.”

  Bill walked quickly and caught up with Dave McKinnon.

  “Captain McKinnon, I hope you are hungry, sir, as tonight’s menu is a special one.”

  The man turned and seeing the club’s president tried to do a slight bow as he walked towards the dining room. “P-President Scott. What an honor.”

  “We never really spoke, Captain. Will you be so kind as to sit on my right this evening?”

  He answered as he glanced over his shoulder, “Gladly, sir. Gladly!”

  They entered the big dining room and all stood by their selected chairs until Bill sat and they followed his lead.

  The tablecloth was green linen with dainty Irish shamrocks dancing along the edge. Dinner plates were seven-inch Belleek with small shamrocks along the edge as were the four-inch salad plates set on top of the dinner plates. Covered basket-weave deep dishes were set on center in front of every fourth member. In between each of the deep dishes was a covered butter dish with small shamrocks hand painted around the handle. On both ends of the long table stood a reeded, scalloped trumpet vase with freshly cut long stemmed shamrocks. To the side of each setting stood a heavy antique Irish-cut port glass with a star-cut underside while four Irish-cut glass decanters filled with either white or red wine were strategically placed on the table. A white embroidered, Fine Irish linen napkin was at each setting and each was decorated once again with small dainty green shamrocks. The cutlery was Michael Keating, George III Irish Silver and the light of sixteen candles in each of the four old world ornate chandeliers played off of the crystal, glass ware, silver ware, serving dishes and plates.

  At each setting was a rolled up scroll of ragged-edged parchment paper held tight by a green ribbon. When opened it read:

  Although it is not March, the 1800 Club thought that its members would like a special dinner and although tonight’s dinner might be considered ‘out of club time’ the president of the 1800 Club gives his blessing for the special menu.

  ST PATRICK'S DAY FOR THE PRESIDENTS

  Washington, 17 March 1959

  On St Patrick's Day in 1959, Ireland's President O'Kelly visited President Eisenhower at the White House. The scene was set for an almighty diplomatic splurge. "Ike" had always loved his food and was famed for cooking barbeques on the roof of the West Wing, while President O'Kelly was a no
ted talker. Together, they had a ball, in every sense.

  The menu for the state dinner on 17 March 1959, was prodigious. The party started with prosciutto ham and melon, before moving on to cream of watercress soup with melba toast, celery hearts and olives. Guests then had lobster newberg - made from lobster, butter, cream, cognac, sherry, eggs and cayenne pepper - before a round of vol-au-vents, preceded by cucumber sandwiches.

  The main course was:

  Roast, stuffed Long Island duckling with applesauce,

  Casserole of aubergine,

  French string beans almandine

  Green salad with anchovy and cheese crusts,

  Frosted mint delight - essentially an ice cream sundae - Nuts and bonbons

  Pol Roger 1952

  Coffee, Tea, Drinks

  Bill turned to Dave and asked, “So, Captain McKinnon, are you enjoying the club?”

  “I am, sir. It is quite unique and I am happy to have joined.”

  “I see from your application that you are a cartographer for the Union Army. Will you enlighten me, sir, what are the duties of a cartographer?”

  “In peace time we help designate where best to build bridges or forts and such for the army. We draw up maps that indicate heights, lakes and passes.”

  “And in war time?”

  “First, sir, I wish you to know that we are trained as soldiers first and then as cartographers. So that while we are on an assignment to scout out the best path to take or hill to set up a defense, if needed we may join in a battle along with the average trooper.”

  “Do you travel along with the main body of troops?”

  “At times, yes, but we work best alone as we can be much quieter than the main group. Besides, we are the ones who scout out the best way to go so they usually wait until the generals get the maps we generate.”

  Bill nodded as he started on his lobster newberg. “I wonder if I might make use of your services, Captain McKinnon?”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll gladly help you with whatever the job might be.”

  “Is it possible for you to stay a bit after the other members have left?”