A State Called Empire

[Mechaman]

Okay, here we go again:

A State Called Empire:


"WE always knew that there would be a time for strife and war.  That the nation, after decades of deep and bitter bickering between the states, would dissolve into a firestorm of bloodshed.  Events of the past decade or so had made that clear.  No matter who won that year, nobody was going to be happy.  Even so, as anticipated as the war was for the sections of the country, no one could've foreseen the course of events that had taken place.  Americanism, it seems, had too high a price tag on it.  Especially for those in the State Called Empire."-William H. Seward, former US Senator and Secretary of State.

Sometime in November 1848
Buffalo, New York:
In a modest home in Buffalo, New York, a man of profound handsomeness and of stately figure was in the living room of his home having a light drink of cranberry while his wife looked on in disinterestedness into the nearby fire.  Millard Fillmore, the incumbent Comptroller of the State of New York and the Whig candidate for Vice President of these United States, was enjoying a soothing day at home to escape from the stresses of modern day political campaigning (as it was then known).  While the votes were being counted, Fillmore enjoyed the day at home with his beloved wife until his fate was decided.
Although the Free Soil Party was certain to steal a lot of anti-slavery Democratic votes, Fillmore just couldn't rest easy enough with the results that were coming in.  Sure, the party was guaranteed a strong victory in the state of New York (the word was that the Free Soil ticket in effect stole half of the Democratic vote in the state, essentially giving the electoral votes of the largest state in the nation to the ticket).  However, results from Pennsylvania, which many reported as being "a dead air" didn't put Old Millie's mind to rest.  Democratic strength and the West, an area that the Whigs had made massive gains in 1840, also put a deal of doubt in Willie's mind.  While the Whigs were likely to win a majority of the popular vote, the way the system had been set up since time immemorial meant that the only way to win was by a majority of the Electoral Votes.  Conceivably, all Cass and team would have to do to win it would be to pull off a few close as a hair margins in a few swing states.  What irony would that be, if the Democratic ticket were to win in such a manner?  Millie wondered how such a party, which always touted it's belief in the common man and the supremacy of popular democracy, would suddenly feel about their rhetoric when they are put in such a circumstance.
Abigail Powers Fillmore, Millie's wife, looked over at him with an air of concern.
Abigail: Millard, you are chewing that pencil of yours into nothingness almost!
Fillmore, feeling like a fool at his wife's remark, put the half eaten pencil down on his desk by the window, and chuckled.  Rising to his feet, he walked over to where his wife was lain, and put his hands on her shoulder, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.
Fillmore: I'm sorry my dear.  It's just some of the news I'm hearing from out West.  It's making me a bit depressed.
His wife laughed at him.
Abigail: My darling, there is no way the Democrats will succeed this year!  I know that for a fact!
Fillmore looked bemused.
Fillmore: And why is that!?  Have you been consorting with the spirits again?
His wife looked at him with humor.
Abigail: I mean, who in their right mind gets excited over Lewis Cass?  And besides the Whigs got the best politician in the nation running as VP!
Fillmore: Thanks dear.  But we need more than lovely sentiments to wrap this thing up.
There is a knock at the front door.  Fillmore opens it to find one of his great mentors, Thurlow Weed, standing before him.
Weed: Come have a cigar with me, Mr. Vice President!
Fillmore didn't know how to feel about the news.  He was glad for his party, but uncertain of himself.  I mean, Mr. Vice President?  The man was but just a mere state level Comptroller!
Relax Millie old pal! The job of Vice President is sitting around all day drinking orange juice and eating cherry apples until your vote is needed for a tiebreaker!  Bloody hell man, you probably even get free guns!  So while you are out shooting trees and clay targets and retarded horses, your pal Zachary "I ain't ever earned a book learnin!" Taylor had to deal with actual work!  You've managed to earn a position that had infinitely more prestige and less work than the one you have now!  Right nows the time to get plastered and jolly about your new station in life, not moan about how you suddenly got more responsibilities!  The Vice Presidency is anything but that!
Fillmore: Yeah, but most Vice Presidents don't have that idiot Taylor as their co-executive.
Wood, seeing that Fillmore was once again talking to himself, put a hand on the man's shoulder.
Wood: Filly, you'll have all the time in the world to talk to yourself when you're Vice President!  This is a night for America!
Fillmore, cracking his trademark nervous chuckle, gave in.
Fillmore: Yeah, I suppose you're right!  Hooray freedom!
The two men walked off merrily into the night.  At the time, even upon his election as Vice President, Millard Fillmore couldn't imagine being anything more than a mere vote getter for his party.  Just a practically nameless face put onto the ticket to add balance to the party.  Like every damned Whig candidate since time immemorial!  The office of the Vice Presidency was the biggest joke in all of America, and everyone knew it.  Sure, the office might've meant something once, but that was also at a time when people took Martin Van Ruin, I'm sorry I mean Martin Van Buren, seriously.  The party simply had no balls.  There was no spine to Whig politics, just a misplaced desire to win elections so people don't get the perception that the party was as irrelevant as it really was.  How the hell are we supposed to advance internal improvements and tariffs out of a party whose only reason for existing is "Damn You Andrew Jackson!"?
The two men get into the bar and take a seat across from the bartender.
Wood: Keep!  Give me a Brandy! Tonight is a night for America!
Bartender looks at Fillmore.
Fillmore: Cranberry Apple on the rocks.
Bartender looks at Fillmore with fury.
Bartender: Damn it Millie, you could certainly use a man's drink for once.
Wood laughs.
Fillmore: Only on the day that alcohol no longer turns men into creatures of eternal lust and intrigue would I consider it.  Though really, the heartburn is what really kills you.
Bartender: Well are you not the bright physician?
The men laugh in the moment of merriment.
Needless to say, Millard Fillmore had no bloody idea what the future had in store for him.  Nobody did.

[Atlas Has Shrugged]

'Dis gonna b good .

[DKrol]

Do go one.

[Mechaman]

The Next Four Years:

To virtually no one's surprise Zachary Taylor was a disappointment.
A man, who openly boasted about never having voted much less hold any political office, Taylor's term, or whatever amount of time he was there, was of nothing worthwhile.  Taylor kept his distance from the political fray, only going as far as to indicate that he wouldn't interfere with the slave debate.  Anti-slavery advocates in the North were overjoyed, as they had long feared that Taylor, a Southern slave owner, would interfere on the issue in favor of the South.  When Taylor suddenly died from eating a bunch of strawberries with milk (or something like that), Fillmore would take over as President.
Though known for being against the idea of slavery, Fillmore had shown in recent months that he was willing to compromise on the issue during the debate for the Compromise of 1850.  Just a couple of years ago when his nomination had received accolades in the Abolitionist circles, now his ascension would inevitably receive jeers.  As VP Fillmore had shown the Conscience Whigs that he was willing to compromise on slavery if it avoided bloodshed and conflict between the states.  They had little reason to think that as President he would change that stance.

July 9th, 1850:

I, Millard Fillmore, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.  So help me God.

The news couldn't be better for those in Congress who wanted Compromise.  It had seemed that since the Presidency of John Tyler that the Slave Debate was raging once more.  Once and again the biggest qualm had been the expansion of the United States into new territories.  Both sides had feared that for each state the other side gained, that meant one more vote against their interests.  The Compromise of 1820, in light of new expansion, didn't seem enough.
The Compromise of 1850 was thought to be a solution to that.  Yet another attempt at staving off the inevitable conflict between the states.  However, as a man once said "no nation can exists half slave half free."

In the two years that followed the Compromise the spirit and resolve of the once formidable Whig Party was gone.  A coalition formed in opposition to what they considered the tyrannical impulses of Andrew Jackson, those in favor of internal improvements and high tariffs found themselves between a rock and a hard place in getting anything done.  Some members, such as the former President John Tyler, were unrepentant Jeffersonians who joined the party out of spite to Andrew Jackson and had no favoritism at all to high tariffs, urbanization, and a system of internal improvements.  Worst of all, the party's moderate stance on slavery was beginning to bite it in the bud, as no matter which position the party took it was bound to upset a large faction of either the Northerner anti-slavery advocates or the Southerner landowner class.
Something needed to be done.

The effects of this division was well felt, as in 1852 the Democratic ticket was able to score what modern people would call a "landslide" over the Whig ticket:

The deep fractures in the Whig Coalition were damning.  In addition to the severe Democratic landslide in the Deep South, the Democrats won all but four states of the Union.  One characteristic of this landslide was what many demographers would call the "urban triumph", where the Democrats successfully defeated the Whigs in their traditional urban strongholds.  Where the strongly Protestant merchant class had once reigned supreme there were hundreds of thousands of immigrants, largely German and Irish Catholics, that had flooded the urban areas.  The presence of what one Historian called "the oppressed and poor of Old Europe" resulted in an inevitable trend towards the party of Andrew Jackson.  Many Northerners viewed this trend with alarm, as crime rates seemed to skyrocket no matter where the "low masses" had settled.  The Democratic Party supported the immigrant community, hoping to get a strong majority of the vote of a community that seemed to present an almost never ending stream of supporters and voters.
The Election of 1852 seemed to validate their stance, as immigrants in many Northern states provided the crushing margins that led to the downfall of the Whig Party.

The issue of immigration, which in the previous decade had seemed just the paranoid concerns of a fringe of American politics, was looming large.  Many advocates of Americanism, seeing the Whig Party go up in flames, saw an opportunity unlike any other. . . . . . . .

[FEMA Camp Administrator]

Keep it up!

[Mechaman]

Tammany Hall
December 8th, 1852:



The room was a smoke-filled room with the strong whiff of gin.  Two men, one a rotund young man with a domineering presence and the other a rather sanguine looking Irishman who somehow pulled off the air of a lawyer.  But only about twice as corrupt and half as honest as one.
The two men, the former being the electoral victor (disputed) of the fifth United States Congressional District of New York William M. Tweed, and the latter being Richard B. Connolly, the County Clerk Elect for New York.  And here they were, still reveling in their victories.  The two men, while still young in their careers, had a mountain range of political strategy and a natural tendency towards graft.  Wherever there was money to be had, you could bet that either William Tweed or the Richie Connolly were just waiting in the wings to take advantage.
Connolly, taking a sip of his whiskey commented:
Connolly: William, dear friend, the city is ripe for the taking!
Tweed, though not even age thirty, had a natural mastery of the skill of politicking and well, earning loads of money by doing nothing except being a greedy corrupt bastard.  Nodding, the young Tweed who had just won election to his first US House seat, took a smoke.
Tweed: Indeed.  With the money I'm ranking from the newest Insurance scheme cooked up by our friends in the Sixth Ward I can move into a mansion on Long Island!  Long Island!
Connolly laughs.
Connolly: I must say William, I never thought your vision so limited.  Don't you see that there is a whole world of possible business ventures, master schemes, and a bunch of naive fools to take advantage of?  We are at the dawning of a new age of Democratic capital my friend!
Tweed just laughs.
Tweed: Well of course good Dick!  We got an almost endless stream of voters coming into this city!  Just giving us, Tammany Hall, untold dominance over the politics of the city!  Albany is next!
Connolly grins even bigger.
Connolly: Well yes!  If we only want to retain such a limited and narrow vision!
Tweed: If we control New York, we control the nation.
The two men click glasses.
Connolly: So true!  So true!  With our inevitable stranglehold on the Democratic apparatus in the nation's biggest state and it's largest city we no doubt will wield immeasurable political clout and maybe even someday get a President in power who is a Tammany Man himself!  Domination!
Tweed: Well yeah, of course political prestige.  As well as the inevitable Spoils benefits we would all get.  However, I'm not sure either of us will be around to see that day.
Connolly tsks.
Connolly: I find your lack of faith disturbing my son.  Don't you get it!?  Don't you see what stands outside before you?
Tweed looks outside an mutters.
Tweed: I see a bunch of people and probably city streets full of bird sh*t.
Connolly: That my friend, are the easily swayed and befuddled masses!  See them as they toil about their meaningless oppressive lives in pursuit of a miserable wage and dreamless lives!  See them go to the voting booth on election day and vote Tammany!  in the hopes of a well paying city job with benefits and spoils to help their mothers and fathers and friends!  This is the glory and majesty of New York!
Tweed laughs.
Tweed: But of course, we still get to make money right?
Connolly laughs again.
Connolly: Yes of course!  But I don't mean to simply just expand our influence in the city and the state.  I mean to make this place a place truly deserving of that word, EMPIRE!
Tweed looks at Connolly, seeing the rage and the madness in his eyes.
Tweed: My friend, you lost it.
Connolly gets up and stands over a nearby globe.  Carressing it with his hands.
Connolly: You say that over time our influence will expand and we will eventually get a Tammany Man as supreme ruler and authority in this land!  Unacceptable and woefully underwhelming says I!  This city is the world's oyster and I intend to claim it fully as our own!  One day, if our most masterful schemes work, this city will make you and I men richer and more powerful beyond popular imagination!
Tweed looks at him intriguingly.
Tweed: My good friend, what is your plan?
Connolly looks at him before settling down behind the desk.
Connolly: Well. . .  . . . as Thomas Jefferson once said-

[Vega]

Wow, this is really great. Keep up the good work; I look forward to seeing more.

[Mechaman]

Sometime after
Buffalo, New York:

The distinguished yet disheveled man got out of the carriage and proceeded into the abandoned church around 8:30 at night.  He did not know why this political meeting was to take place in the old Anglican church and why the members insisted on secrecy.  However, given the way things had gone lately, old Millard Fillmore thought he might as well hear these men out.  The issue of Slavery, always considered an issue of extreme volatility, had torn his Whig Party apart.  So extreme was the divisiveness of the issue that his party's own anti-slavery faction went out of their way to unseat him due to his attempts at finding a pragmatic middle ground solution to a problem that otherwise would've torn the nation asunder.
With the Democratic Party reaching new heights of dominance after their legendary victory in 1852, it seemed that the cause of Fillmore and others were in vain.  The Free Soil Party did run a candidate once more.  Though a much weaker performance than the last time (in which many Northern Democrats fled the national ticket and voted for Van Buren), it seemed that the presence of the anti-slavery third party was still damning.  Except this time it seemed that it was the Whigs, not the Democrats, who might've been doomed by the presence of the Free Soilers.  Even in traditionally Whig Massachusetts, where the Whigs won by only a meager 8,000 vote margin, the results appeared damning.
It had seemed in their quest to strike out a pure stance against slavery, the abolitionists seemed to only strengthen the slave interest.  Fillmore received Hell for being willing to compromise in the short term.  If only he could've felt his short term sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.
As he opened the big door to the Anglican chapel he noticed a table of men gathered around a table by candlelight.  Seated at the head he saw a handsome figure with a princelike air.  Fillmore recognized him almost instantly.
Fillmore: What the hell are you doing here!?  I thought this was a meeting of gentlemen, not scoundrels!
The man that he recognized was Lewis Charles Levin, one of the spiritual heads of the Native American movement.  A movement known for it's use of secret oaths and shady ceremonies, the Native Americans weren't exactly upstanding individuals in the community.  Committed to saving America from an alleged papist plot by Rome and responsible for attacks against immigrant communities in urban areas, Fillmore wasn't exactly a huge fan of their methods.
He was especially not a fan of Mr. Levin, whose classless smears against Whig nominee, the esteemed General Winfield Scott.  Seeing the snakelike Mr. Levin filled Fillmore with spite.  It took everything in his power not to spit in Levin's face as the luciferous man slithered towards him.
In spite of the rude welcoming, Levin only grinned evilly, giving a chuckle.
Levin: Pleasure to meet you Mr. President!  Sure n'ough I figured you would be just the man to talk to about our little enterprise!
Fillmore: Why the Hell would I be interested in hearing what you miscreants have to say!?  You've caused nothing but trouble. . .and pain.
Levin: You're not entirely an old fool, are you Mr. President?
Fillmore: No I am not, and I wish I could readily tell what kind of person you are.  But, for a creature as cold blooded and darkhearted as you, I shudder to associate you with any person.
Levin only laughed some more.  Apparently he was more sick in the head than Fillmore gave him credit for.
Levin: I love the kind words Mr. President!  But oh please, surely you came here for a reason didn't you?  You just had to see for yourself what all the good boys were coming over for, didn't you!?
Fillmore looked incensed.  He was seconds away from committing what might be his last act on earth.  But Lord, wouldn't it be a swell way to go out!  With this madman's heart beating. . . . .IN HIS HANDS!
Fillmore: Damn you to Hell!
With a huff Fillmore turns to walk out the door when he hears a damningly familiar voice.
Voice: Mr. President!  Wait!
He turns around and sees a statusesque man with a cold hard stare.  The man was a clear veteran of the times, known nationwide for his staunch advocacy of freedom and abolitionism and opposition to bigotry as well as decades of service in law and politics as a stalwart of republicanism and modernity.
He was also, at least in Fillmore's mind, the last person he would've expected at this place.
Shock was an understatement.

Fillmore: Thaddeus, what are you doing here?

[Mechaman]

Continued:

Thad Stevens was apprehensive.  He knew it would be hard to explain himself to the now former President of his actions.  However, with the overwhelming power of the slave powers he felt that he had no choice.
Stevens: I must confess Mr. President, it was I who sent the invitation.
It was slowly starting to come together in Fillmore's head.  A meeting devoted to ending the issue of slavery once and for all through strong political will.  He had no idea that the meeting would include characters like Levin.  Fillmore was sadistically intrigued.
Stevens: It is very hard for me to elaborate on why we are all here.  Needless to say, I believe that the results of the last election were a wakeup call for us to re-examine the issue of slavery and how we best solve it.  Despite your recent past, I've called you here because I believe that at heart you had the good of the nation in mind when you tried to compromise.  However, that compromise was your undoing.
Fillmore, who had now taken up licorice eating, grimly agreed.
Stevens: This is a most difficult task Mr. President.  We can't just simply try to kill slavery by half measures and appeasement.  Each compromise we make only pushes the issue off by another ten years or so.  The Missouri Compromise has failed.  So to will your Compromise.  We need to make a strong and decisive stand against the expansion of slavery.
Fillmore: My friend, I knew you were quite devout, but this!?  Look around you Thad!  These guys are madmen!  My daughter went to a Catholic school!
Stevens looked at the man understandably.
Stevens: I can certainly sympathize with you Mr. President.  My heart is heavy with the sacrifices that must be made for the betterment of society.  A nation can not exist half slave and half free.
Fillmore: So you support a party that will make the nation 100% Protestant?  Yeah great consistency Thaddeus!
Stevens: I've been given assurances by many Native Americans that their concern is only for the safety and prosperity of this nation and that the many Catholic residents of this nation who have long settled here will be free from harm and expulsion.  I myself will not support any undue wrong and prejudicial attack against the community.  However, we must see the benefits here.  As long as the Democrats have a system of ingrained corruption and control over the large immigrant masses the cause of abolitionism is in peril.  Many an Irishman is told off the boats that a blackman's freedom will lead to their eternal serfdom.  As much as it pains me to turn my back on such an oppressed people who have long suffered many trials, we anti-slavery advocates cannot compete with the Democratic monopoly of those voters.  Once we have won the great fight over slavery, then we can consider allowing the free and unlimited immigration of the oppressed and huddled masses.
Fillmore looked at him with an air of understanding.
Fillmore: Look, I mean I'm certainly no laissez faire immigrant advocate Thad.  But you certainly can't be naive enough to think that these people aren't going to take it too far.  THey most certainly will.
Stevens: The results of the last election have made me more openminded about my options-
Fillmore: They have advocated and participated in attacks on communities around the nation!  Attacks!  Thad!  They burn down parishes for god's sake!  And you think that we should ally with them over some misguided fool idea that we can get wide support for abolishing slavery?
Stevens laughs.
Stevens: You know it's funny, after all these years everybody thinking I'm just some radical ideologue and now suddenly I'm being faced by the President who defined pragmatism as someone who sold out his soul.
Fillmore: Well, I wouldn't go that far, but you certainly are talking more a fool than I thought would ever be possible.
Stevens: Look, I know this would be a hard sell and once again my heart bleeds for the poor and downtrodden immigrant.  However, if we continue on as is we will only be letting the Democrats enslave another generation of poor and starved voter into voting against their interests.  We are, if you look at it, actually doing a lot of these people a favor.  Once the great slave debate is over and immigrants once again come over in mass numbers, they will no longer have to deal with the dishonest and evil tactics of Democratic slavers.
He leans into Fillmore's ear.
Stevens: Believe me, I would like to wash my hand of this Levin creep as soon as possible.  The man is a madman and once he's gone I don't see anywhere for this movement to go but either down or in our direction.  There are no enigmatic leaders outside of this lunatic, and once he's gone the movement can become ours.  We will transition it to a devoted outfit that can attack slavery and de-emphasize the more unsavory aspects of the movement.  That, and we at least have a chance of also rejuvenating economic modernity and nationalism and internal improvements.
Suddenly Fillmore was intrigued.
Fillmore: Hell Thad.  Color me impressed.  Mr. Levin, I might be in contact.  However, know that my devotion first and foremost is to the interests of the American people, not to your maniacal cult of personality.
With that he got up and headed off into the night.

[Mechaman]

A Most Tragic President:



To many in the country what had transpired over the past few years didn't give them much optimism or hope.  Despite Pierce's landslide election victory, he was widely perceived by many to be an indecisive and weak president.  He had neither the bravado of a President Jackson, the prestige of a President Van Buren, or the decisiveness of a President Polk.
In the words of one observer, "he was just there."
Within a month of taking office, Pierce's Vice President William R King would pass away.  The long time US Senator from Alabama who had a particularly strong relationship with the Pennsylvania politician James Buchanan of which many historians suggested was a romantic one.  In any case, the Vice President passed away but a month into office, leaving the role of Executive GOvernment in the hands of Pierce.
In the hands of a less conflicted man it would be challenging.  In Pierce's hands, often shaken by the plague of alcoholism, it was shaky.  The President, who had seen the death of three children (the most recent just earlier in the year), was beside himself with personal anguish.  A man who deeply loved but was also estranged from his grief stricken wife, the President would only worsen in his habit to alcohol.
As a result, he was unable to even perform the most basic duties of office.  By July of 1853 his Cabinet had recommended that he either take a leave of absence to sort himself out or resign.
Pierce was never given that chance, as the 14th President of the United States succumbed to alcohol poisoning on July 14th, 1853.  He would be the third president in only 12 years to have died in office.
Without a President or a Vice President, the nation suddenly found itself in an Presidential Crisis.

[Mechaman]

The Constitutional Crisis:

With the death of the alcoholic President only a few months after the death of his elderly Vice President, the nation suddenly realized that there was no Vice President in place to take up the reins.  As a result, there was a lengthy discussion over the rules of succession in the event that the President and Vice President couldn't take office.  Ultimately, the rules of the Presidential Succession Act of 1792 dictated that in the event that the President and Vice President were unable to perform their duties or take office, the President Pro Tempore would take charge.  And at that time the President Pro Tempore (and presumptive President) was:



Democratic Senator David Rice Atchison of Missouri.  A dye in the wool slavocrat who wanted to see slavery greatly expanded beyond the limits of the Compromise of 1850.

Though backed up by congressional act, many members of Congress protested the ascension of David Atchison to the presidency.  Opposition leaders like Schuyler Colfax, Nathaniel Prentice Banks, and Abraham Lincoln openly called the succession of David Atchison as "the death of the Union".  With a strong Democratic majority in the House and the Senate, many feared that the party loyalty of many northern Democrats would allow Atchison to pursue his long awaited dreams of forcing the legalization of slavery across the nation.

They weren't far off the mark.

[Mechaman]

US Congress
July 20th, 1853:

David Rice Atchison: I, David Rice Atchison, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.  So help me God.
Facing an assembled Congress present for his inauguration, Atchison felt as if Providence had struck him a lucky hand.  When he took the position of President Pro Tempore he had no idea that in a few months time he could've possibly ascended the highest position in all of the land.
And yes, he knew of Pierce's alcoholism.  Hell, everybody did.  However, nobody, including Atchison, actually considered that his former role was literally a couple of heartbeats away from the presidency.
Amazing, isn't it?
At this critical juncture in American History, Atchison saw this no less than divine Providence making it's intent clear.  He was going into the White House and he was going to fight for the supremacy of slavery and of the white man over the black man.  THere were many (even within his own party) who were beginning to disagree with that notion, going as far as to suggest that it be abolished.  What those radicals and rabble rousers were doing was advocating against the natural order of things.  For far too long under the Missouri Compromise and then later the most recent 1850 Compromise honest and decent men like Atchison had let these "abolitionists" off the hook.
Well no longer.
As President he was going to make the final and strong push that the patriotic and humble property owners of this nation needed to defend their rights.  In his mind the terrorism and the tyrannical acts of the abolitionists needed to be stopped.  And was about to speak his mind about that:



Atchison: Three Score and Seven Years ago, our Founding Fathers set forth a vision of a free and independent nation where the rights and liberties of men were recognized.  A land where the right to one's own property, the right to one's own land, and the right to one's own liberty were thought supreme.  Later, as we developed into a league of nations dedicated to the preservation of fundamental rights of the states, our predecessors dedicated themselves to a vision of an independent nation of independent states where no one state can unduly infringe it's own interests and ideology over that of another state.  What we have seen over the past few decades is alarming in regards to our fundamental rights as a culture that values such traditions and rights.  For too long we have tried to appease such radical malcontent elements which only seek to destroy such liberty for their own ends and for their own quest to UnAmerican the American experience by turning our grand representative democracy into an ungodly radical theocratic oligarchy.  As your president I will try my best to defend our sacred rights against this onslaught, and restore unto the many property owners of this nation what is their most sacred right.

THe speech, predictably, aroused quite the political firestorm across the nation.  While many had known that Atchison would side with the slavery forces in the event that the issue was forced in public, none would imagine that he would go as far as to make it the focal point of his Inaugural address and make such a vicious attack on abolitionists and others critical of slavery.  With a President that seemed devoutly interested in preserving and expanding slavery with a Congress that might not have the backbone to stop him out of partisan reasons, many abolitionists started getting desperate.

It was against this backdrop that the anti-slavery movement entered it's darkest hour.

[Mechaman]

A Case of Infamy:

With the case of slavery largely on the mind of the public, the President and other politicians sought for a quick close to the issue that had caused much division in the public.  Noting that it was in the interest of the nation, regardless of pro/anti slavery result, that the Supreme Court of the land decide the legality of slavery and property ownership.

That came in the landmark case Casey vs. Ferguson in December of 1853.  The case, which involved a runaway slave named Drew Casey and his owner Charles Ferguson, drew national attention.  The slave, Casey, was born a free black man in the state of Pennsylvania in the year 1812.  When Casey was 15 he was drugged and put into chains by a gang of impressers who sold him to Charles Ferguson of South Carolina.  Twenty years later, while in a free state (Illinois), Casey escaped
The facts of the case seemed indisputable to anti-slavery advocates.  This was a clear cut case of an immoral system that used immoral tactics to keep the practice going.  Surely a positive court decision would be a damning nail in the coffin of slavery.
That was never to be however.

Upon review, by a majority rule of 6-3, the court ruled against Casey, noting that Casey's claim to being born a free man was suspect.  The Constitution, according the majority opinion, was specifically designed to defend and uphold the rights and privileges of Anglo-Saxon men in accordance with traditional British customs.  With this in mind, blacks would have no legal standing to sue in court and are not American citizens.  Further, laws that banned slavery in states and territories after ratification (1787) were unconstitutional on the basis of violating the right to property ownership of slave owners, regardless of state.  It is widely considered one of the worst court decisions in the history of the country.

It would have grave effects on many in the years to come.

[Mechaman]

A Stand
Washington DC
US Senate Chambers:



In the days after the controversial ruling in the US Supreme Court many had expected a strong backlash from politicians in the US Senate.  And one of the loudest voices in protest was Senator Daniel S. Weathers of New York, a Democrat.  A member of the same party as the President.
Weathers wasn't exactly popular with the pro-slavery faction of the Democratic party.  An outspoken anti-slavery advocate who was against the Compromise of 1850, Weathers had ruffled feathers in the party ever since he won election to the US Senate thanks to some political maneuvering by the anti-slavery Democrats in the legislature.  While he was by no means a dye in the wool "abolish it at all costs!" type Democrat, he certainly thought that doing even the Compromise of 1820 wasn't going far enough.
Luckily the name of his father had enough sway in the state, and that helped him get to these chambers.
He took the stand.
Weathers: Fellow Senators.
It is with a most hard heart that I take this stage, realizing the mortal danger this Republic has been put into with the most recent Supreme Court ruling.  It is a shame, and a mockery of the greatest rights that this nation was founded upon that such a ruling is possible. (coughs)  I believe that any honest and decent person, taking into full consideration the language of the ruling, should recognize how easy it will be for those who wish to pervert our liberties and freedoms for their own gains.  It is a testament to the madness of our president, the slave lobby, and the "honorable" judges of the court that such a ruling was possible.  To many of you the great dangers prevalent in the language of this bill, which if followed fully would disadvantage all but a small but powerful minority, is not yet realized.  However, know that in this nation today there are those who are biding their time for their message of division, hatred, and supremacy who will not hesitate to gain such advantages.  They will come bearing swords while speaking of peace.  They will come proclaiming equality while enforcing serfdom.  They will come speaking of love while bowing down to an altar of hatred.
Heed my words very well.  Our children might not have the chance to.
The Senator steps down to a very tepid response.  His warning would prove to be very prophetic.

[FEMA Camp Administrator]

This is pretty awesome.

[Mechaman]

Back at the Hall:



A few men were gathered in a dark room having their usual drink and smoke.  The usual big man, William Tweed, was gone for now.  In Washington D.C. being the voice and presence of the Hall in the Nation's Capitol.
The assembled members were having a nice time mulling over the most recent events and bidding their time of inevitable dominance of the city's politics.  The Hall had come a long ways since it's early days as a whipping boy for Clinton Republicans.  Now it was looming large over the nation's largest city.  Poised to eventually, one day, become the power broker of the Democratic Party which seemed to have ascended to sure dominance in the wake of the 1852 elections.  Sure, there were miscreants like the newly ascended president with his fetish for that slavery thing that Southerners so loved.  Though many a Tammany Man could give a damn about that when there were more pressing issues.  Like winning over the urban voter with promises of cushy jobs provided off of large graft brought to you by the New York City government!
Just wait till Albany is ours, Connolly thought, we will be richer than King Solomon himself!
Connolly gave an evil grin while his mind was full of illusions of grandeur.
Seated around the table were fellow distinguished members of the New York Democratic community.  Of note, the up and coming Fernando Wood, former Congressman and prospective Mayoral candidate, was to his left.  A fierce firebrand and a relentless advocate for Tammany on the streets, Wood seemed to have the goods to finally bring Tammany power to the forefront of New York politics.  Also seated was Peter B. Sweeny, a young Irishman from Hoboken who was recently appointed Public Administrator at the age of 27.  Sweeny's political acumen at such a young age and fierce loyalty to the machine was perhaps one of the greatest weapons the organization had against the more "respectable" middle-upper class dominated Opposition establishment in the state.
And finally, seated at the head of the table, Charles "Charlie" O'Day, the leader of the infamous Dead Rabbits, the recent offshot gang of the Roach Guard that were closely allied with Tammany.
The three men, so to speak, were close as peas in a pod.
O'Day, who had no patience for the pretense, spoke up.
O'Day: Man, that was a sh*t show they had wasn't it?
Sweeny, who had been real busy lately on a few choir girls, wasn't up to speed.
Sweeny: Good man, what are you referring to?
O'Day snickered.
O'Day: Here I am, all night long murderin, stealin, and feckin' everybody in sight and you don't have the presence of mind or place to know what has gone on the last two feckin' weeks?  Good lord man, you're mad on the honey, are ya?
The men laughed.
O'Day: The bastards up there in Washington, they put their par wee brains together and decided that this is Englishman land and thus ns have no rights.  I don't know whether to applaud their efforts or to laugh.
Sweeny looks aghast.
Sweeny: You got to be kidding me?  The Courts decided that?!
Connolly notes the look of concern on Sweeny's face.
Connolly: Relax good friend, the pieces are just falling into place.
Sweeny: I mean I don't care about slavery Richard.  Let the Southerners enslave as many ns as they want!  That will keep them out of here at least.
Wood stands up and offers his glass.
Wood: A TOAST. . . . TO KEEPING THE nS OUT OF NEW YORK!
The four men lean their glasses to an imaginary middle, and then proceed to drink.
O'Day: Feckin savages.  Serves them right for being so uppity.
Connolly laughs.
Sweeny: But the language!  And the way the ruling was worded!  Imagine if some unsavory characters in this nation were to advance their nefarious agenda!  I mean the language could lend itself to negatory events.  They could cost us votes!
Connolly laughs.
Connolly: My friend my friend, doth worry too much!
Sweeny: Who came up with that language anyway?  It's so horribly written!  A schoolchild could've written that!
Wood laughs.
Wood: Well let's just say that a friend of a friend of a friend might've given them some "consideration" in their opinion.  A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend who might've been my brother.
Sweeny: Yet I fail to see how this benefits us.  After years and decades of compromise extremists have given the abolitionists a lightning rod for their efforts.  How exactly does Tammany gain from this?  Will we suddenly become anti-slavery?
Connolly's evil grin grows larger.
Connolly: My young friend, you still have much to learn about the art of politics.

[Mechaman]

December 29th, 1853
The Five Points



Charlie O'Day was at the marketplace with some of his partners in crime, surveying the landscape.  Nowadays the Five Points were quite the pickins, with there always being business for a stealin, property destruction, and even the occasionally knifing.
But, with the course things were taking lately, it seemed that O'Day and his crew could take their business, ahem, to a whole new level.  Suddenly, the market for valuable commodities had greatly increased.
He takes out a long pipe and begins to smoke some mystic herbs that he lifted from a nearby oriental smoke shop.  To relax his mind for what comes next.  Nodding to his partners, he begins to walk down the street toward his intended target.
His buddy, Denis O'Kelly, brings a green apple out of his pocket, tossing it in the air absentmindedly while the crew walks down the street.
Down at the end of the block there was a black man, James Thompson, who was minding his own business after the end of his workday as a dockman.  Life was pretty tough, being a black in the poorest neighborhood in America, but he made by.  Tensions in the neighborhood were a worse lately, making him a very defensive man around these parts.
He observes as three Irishmen walk towards where he was enjoying his afternoon smoke.  The three men seemed to be of the most wrong sort.  He knew that they were up to no good.
O'Kelly stops right in front of Thompson, still catching the green apple occasionally in the air.
O'Kelly: Hey boy!  How'd you like to earn some money?
Thompson was no fool.  An Irishman in the Five Points asking a blackman if he wanted to earn money?  Seemed like a trap.
Trying his hardest to stay calm and not wet himself, Thompson chuckles.
Thompson: No thanks fellas, I got a good enough earning now at the docks.
The three men laugh as O'Day puts a hand on his shoulder.
O'Day: Don't be frightened good sir.  We have no intent on harming your good character.  We just wanted to know if you would be down for a well earned $50.  We got some contraband material coming in through the harbor midnight after next.  We've been observing ya.  Ya seem like you could be good in a possible scuffle with the uhhh, the coastal guards.
Thompson still looked unconvinced.
O'Day: Lookey!  If we wanted to beat youse we would've done it when we first got here!  There are three of us and one of you!  We wouldn't need to bother with such trivialities as covertness here!  As you can see we've only approached you with our good word and god fearing Irishmen that we want your services for a most enterprising task!  I mean lad, do you know who the hell I am!?
Thompson shook his head.
O'Day: I am Charlie fookin O'Day!  The biggest and baddest bastard who walks these streets!  I own this portion of town boy!  No foolish bastard will lay a hand on you as long as you are with us!  Now settle down and come have a drink with us!
Thompson was mildly impressed.  But then, the man did have a point.  If he was truly Charlie O'Day, he could've probably just killed Thompson in broad daylight and get away with it.  Like he did with several Bowery Boys.
And he also heard the man's penchant for greed was insatiable.
Thompson: Okay sure, why not?  Where we goin?
O'Day points to a tavern at the end of the street.
O'Day: Over there good sir!  In there we will discuss your proper compensation and contract!
James Thompson knew that he might be in a world of trouble.  However, if what the man said was true he was in for a pretty big pay day.  And it was in a public place.  What could go wrong?
The four men walk into the tavern as the door closes on Thompson's freedom.

Inside the tavern
About thirty minutes later:
Man did I misjudge these fellows!  They sure are a riot!
Thompson thought as he was on his fourth drink of whiskey.
O'Day: And I swear to the lord Jesus that the gal had the most unnatural growth on her!  When we were groundin the pound, I had to look away from her face just to avoid the smell!
The four men laugh.  O'Kelly sits next to Thompson, throwin an arm around him with the green apple in his hand.
O'Kelly: Hey brother.  You want to take a taste of this nice green apple?
THompson laughs.
Thompson: THis isn't some kind of freaky thing where it'll knock me out and you fellas will turn me into some kind of girlyboy?
O'Kelly laughs.
O'Kelly: Well ain't youse the fookin sodomite!  No I aint' a interested in bleedin homoy feelas like you!  Just askin if you want a slice of me good apple in yar flagoon of Belgian Ale, you loose lip ape!
Thompson should've felt offended at the comment, but in his state of inebriation he was up for anything.  He nods his head, assertively.
O'Kelly pulls out a knife and cuts a slice out of the green apple, putting it in the man's drink.
O'Kelly: Drink up my good man.  Who knows how many more you might get.
Well if it is poisoned, it'd make more sense for me to eat it than to put it in the drink.  These Irish are very unusual.  Apples in drinks?  What's next?  Watermelon on steak?
Thompson takes a big gulp out of his drink, oblivious to the green material that was coming out of the apple slice.
Within seconds he was out.
The men in the bar immediately went about picking him up and bringing him to the back.  Once back there one of them pulled out a pocketwatch.
O'Kelly: Okay, the man says he'll be at the docks around the ten of night.  You know what to do.

[Mechaman]

Somewhere on the docks:

O'Day and O'Kelly were waiting on a horse carriage for the ship to show up that would give them their due profit.
O'Day: Freaking Southern rich boys.  They think they own the world now.  We can be waitin for days out in this bleeding cold while the man is sitting on his deck drinking some tea and nevermindin his own schedule.
O'Kelly: Well he's got money, like the rest of them do.  As long as that is the case, he and they make the rules.
Suddenly, a modestly sized steamboat shows up.  There is a small party on board the top of the vessel observing the docks.  Near the walk off there is a prosperous looking man with a top hat and a blue jacket with furs.  He steps off the boat and onto the small docks, observing the two men with the carriage.
He walks up to them.
Man: Mr. O'Day?  Mr. O'Kelly?
O'Day: Yes good sir?
He gives a courteous bow to them.
Mr. Johnson: I am Prentice Johnson, owner of the Prentice Plantation in the Bermudas.  I am most indebted to the efficiency through which your organization has worked to give me some might nice property.
O'Day laughs.
O'Day: Oh don't mind us good sir!  We are just a couple of broke poor boys trying to scruff up a living!  If we could do this everyday we'd be far richer than we ever were!  It's truly a pleasure!
O'Kelly: Okay pal, where's the money?  We got your man, now where is the pony?
Johnson: Oh good question.  Why it's back in the cell!
O'Day looks at him confused.
O'Day: The cell?
Johnson smirks.
Johnson: Oh yes!  The cell, where you rot bastards will be spending the rest of your miserable lives!
Johnson pulls out his pistol as a cadre of men armed with rifles converge on the two men.
Johnson: My my gentlemen, I must admit how disappointed I am in your lack of security.  Did you forget that the trade of slaves via international water routes is illegal?  Or did you think that a mere Court ruling would allow you to just beat any black fellow over the head and trade him for a nice white horse and opium?
O'Day looks furious.
Johnson: Tut tut!  I shall enjoy seeing you two miscreants hang.
Sh*t.

[Mechaman]

A Jail Cell:

O'Day: Way the fookin go!  "Oh there is this nice Englishy man from Bermuda with a market for slaves!"  Does Bermuda even have plantations, you lousy fop!
O'Kelly looked heeved.
O'Kelly: Well I didn't think they'd go through this much trouble.  I mean, blacks aren't citizens.  I mean I thought that pretty much said "trade away!"
O'Day: Yeah, but the trade is still illegal, you fopping fool.  Which is why I was insistent on a face to face meet with the man before we went ahead with it.  But no, like a horny boy with a pen pal girl you had to just jump on the opportunity without lookin both ways for the vipers!
The two men look as Fernando Wood comes in.
Wood: Well luckily for you two, the power and influence of Tammany Graft goes far and wide.  They may have evidence, yes, but we got the coin.  And as long as we got the coin, and the votes for the next sheriffs race, what are they going to do about it!
O'Day and O'Kelly laugh.
O'Day: Right!  Let's show these idiot fools how far the Tammany fist extends!

The Court Date:

Many of the New York public had come to watch the trial against Charlie O'Day and Denis O'Kelly, who were caught redhanded by the New York Coastal Guard trying to sell a black man on the international slave market.  A market, which by congressional act in the 1800s, was made illegal and punishable by death.  There was little doubt among many watching, especially many abolitionists who had traveled hundreds of miles to see the two men hang, that justice would reign supreme.
HOwever, that was not to be.
The attorney for the defendants, a Peter Sweeny, successfully argued that since the deal was outright entrapment that the charge of these men violating the ban on the international slave trade was impossible.  Whatever reason the two men had for capturing and attempting to trade James THompson, it was impossible to convict on the principle that the other party in the trade was presenting a false appearance and thus not actively involved in the slave trade.  The unlawful use of entrapment against the defendants thus exempted them from a guilty verdict.
And to the surprise of many, the jury unanimously took the side of Sweeny and the defendants.  While all of them to a man have claimed to have been swayed by Sweeny's rhetorical and legal flourishes, more then a couple dozen witnesses have claimed to have seen most of the jury "living the high life."  Though it was never proven, accusations of Tammany corruption and influence in the court case have carried on to the point of almost being fact to this day.

The two men, O'Day and O'Kelly, walked out the courtroom that day as free as they were the day they were born.

The case would, as expected, draw strong reactions through the nation.

[Mechaman]

New Coalitions:



The reaction to the infamous O'Day/O'Kelly court case was intense.

In the immediate aftermath there was chaos.  Abolitionists were in an uproar over what was a blatantly illegal act by the two criminals O'Day and O'Kelly.  To them what had transpired was nothing less than a perversion of morality that went even beyond the Supreme Court Ruling of Casey vs. Ferguson.  It in effect showed the power of the slave lobby and their powerful northern allies that two well known criminals could get away with attempting to sell a free person into bondage.
However, unlike Casey vs. Ferguson, the O'Day/O'Kelly court case arose a much more frenzied response due to the details of the case.  Charles Ferguson was just a slave owning landowner from South Carolina who was suing for right of property.  Charlie O'Day and Denis O'Kelly, however, were admitted Irish immigrant criminals who were in the pocket of a corrupt urban machine who were being represented by one of the most corrupt lawyers in the city, who also happened to be an Irish Catholic.  Beyond the implications for black rights in the nation, the case seemed to signify the dangers associated with the immigrant tide.  That in an America with limitless immigration into the urban areas of the nation and a dominant Democratic Party, the naturally criminal immigrant masses would be unaccountable before the law and morality.  In a nation where an Irishman could become a lawyer and the head of the local Democratic Party the very fabric of American society was in jeopardy.  Especially when he was kept in office by the votes of other members of the "criminal race".

It was the case of O'Day/O'Kelly and it's aftermath that would unite these two contradictory elements of American society.  Almost immediately after the ruling there were attacks and protests against Catholic and immigrant communities throughout the North.  Fear of slavery and fear of the papist Irishman were united into one movement.  As a result, the non-Democratic opposition suddenly found a rallying cry that would bring about a wide coalition.
It seemed that the Opposition, after decades of floundering about trying to find something other than being anti-Jackson, had found it's common cause in "Americanism".

However, this wasn't all benefits for the new coalition of Americanism and Abolitionism.  In fact, the anti-slavery movement was greatly damaged by the emergence of nativist-abolitionist alliance as many anti-slavery Democrats and some Free Soilers refused to associate themselves with the American movement.  The result was a reversal of sorts from the trends of the last decade, as many abolitionists and anti-slavery advocates started becoming Democrats and thus disrupting the dominance the slave lobby seemed to have over the party with the ascension of David Rice Atchison as President.  Emotions ran high between former anti-slavery allies, who were now at each others' throats over the questions of immigration, naturalization laws, and even voting rights.

With the rise of anti-immigrant nativism, organizations such as The Jefferson Society were formed.  Named after the third President of the United States (who was an advocate for expanded rights and privileges for immigrant communities), the Jefferson Society was formed in New York City in 1854 by a diverse group of New York Democrats ranging from former Free Soilers to members of Tammany Hall.  Needless to say it was a group of politicians who didn't agree on much except that they despised Know Nothingism.

Given that, many former Whigs started seeing the argument for moderation on the slavery issue.  With more than a few anti-slavery advocates outraged by the Know Nothing movement it became clear that there wasn't a realistic way for a coherent Whig American party to gain a strong following unless it softened the rhetoric on the great slavery issue.  What was sought was simply the undoing of Casey vs. Ferguson and a return to the Compromise of 1820 and a stop to the expansion of slavery.  While this didn't sit well with more devout members like Thad Stevens or Charles Sumner, for the rank and file it was widely applauded.

However, for most pro-slavery politicians and supporters the Democratic Party was still far and away the party of choice.  And at the same time most anti-slavery politicians and supporters favored the Americans.  For those who favored slavery they believed the Democrat's embrace of small government and limited government intrusion was more in line with defending the institution of slavery.  While abolitionism and nativism weren't bedmates, many who subscribed to one belief also subscribed to the other and thus found solace in the American Party.
It was, in the words of one historian "an era of bastard coalitions".

The Democratic Party, which was at what was at the time it's political dominance, found it's hold over Congress in jeopardy going into the 1854 Elections.  Not just from without, but also from within.

[Mechaman]

The White House
April 19th, 1854:



President David Atchison is resting behind his desk with his feet up on his desk.  The last few weeks had been very hectic on him and his Cabinet, with whatever was left of the Whigs, the newly arising American Party (which was stealing Whig members almost weekly), and now a growing faction in his own Democratic Party.
He thought that his and fellow decent Democratic appeals to the Supremes had settled the matter once and for all.  However, in recent months it had seemed that he and his fellow true Democrats were at fire from all directions.  The esteemed Senator from New York, Daniel Weathers, one of those goddamned upstate New York Damnocracts who might as well be a Liberty Party member, had made a recent name for himself as raising up a stink and suggesting as much as supporting the passage of an Amendment to the US Constitution to undo the ruling.
And these damned advocates of Fenianism and Popery aren't making things easier. . . . . .those goddamn simians will be the ruin of our party.
Atchison stands up as a big portly man came in.  William Tweed, one of nature's most impressive scoundrels.
As usual, Tweed came in with his bullshit grin.  Atchison was convinced that men of Tweed were incapable of any measure of truthfulness and sincerity and took to corruption, lies, manipulation, and incredible vice like most would eat and breathe.  Nonetheless, Tweed and his cronies were proving to be the closest allies Atchison had at the moment.  The Democrats still had strong majorities, however, with the great division over the great issue of slavery he was pushed to listen to such miscreants.  Even if it did mean having godless and immoral papist apes in patronage positions and in Congress.
Tweed offers his hand.
Tweed: Mr. President!  Such a pleasure to see you.
Atchison does show any gracious emotions as he shakes the hand of the man from Tammany.  Sure, he considered Tweed just a bit above the subhumans he represented, but that wasn't saying much.  Nonetheless, Atchison kept his disgust at the sight of Tweed in control.
Atchison: Mr. Tweed, what brings you to the office of the President?
Tweed: As you well know Mr. President there is a growing concern over the viability of last year's victory in the Courts.  Certain elements both in the Opposition caucus and within our very own ranks are intending to push forward a Constitutional Amendment that would undo Casey Ferguson.
Atchison laughs.
Atchison: Mr. Tweed, we both know that it would be utter foolishness on their parts to attempt to try.  It is settled law by the Supreme Courts of this land.  And I am the American President.  Let's see them get near the votes to push this thing forward.
Tweed chuckles.
Tweed: Well yes of course.  However, there is a growing trend against us Congress.  People are getting frustrated with the current leadership and are itching for change once more.  THe Americans are proving to be a hotbed for likeminded individuals who are seeking to undo the Democratic program!  We need the votes in November!  To be more blunt Mr. President, you need those votes.
The look on Tweed's face was sinister.
Atchison had enough.
Atchison: Mr. Tweed, with all due respect, I think I know what you're suggesting and all I'm going to say is no way in Hell.
Tweed: Mr. President, you haven't even heard what I have to say.
Atchison: Look, I respect that there are. . . people out there in your districts who support true American values of property and liberty.  However, I can't afford to be seen by many, including some of my own diehard supporters, as being in the hands of political radicals!
Just then the door opens and a much different looking man walks in:

Atchison felt his heart stop.
Atchison: Good god man!  You bring an open radical into my presence!  Do you want to arouse the suspicion of the Washington Press and our opponents with word that there are revolutionaries in our midst!?
The resolute bearded Irishman looked at the President with no look of fear or respect.  The man was Michael Doheny, a recent immigrant and surviver of the Younger Irelanders Rebellion of 1848.  In the years since then the man had immigrated to America, becoming a lawyer in New York City.  Worse yet, there were rumors that the man and some associates of his had formed a new radical group devoted to Irish nationalism (a truly ridiculous notion) in the northern states that were raising up men and arms to attack British outposts in Canada.
His presence here was almost a slap in the face by Tweed.
Doheny extends his hand to the President.
Doheny: Mr. President, it's an honor.
Atchison was momentarily touched by the Hibernian's appreciation of the office.
Looking around the room, Mr. Doheny noted the portrait of men who had preceded Atchison.  George Washington.  Thomas Jefferson!  Andrew Jackson!  Truly great extraordinary men who had touched the hearts of millions of the lowly and oppressed around the world!  And now. . . . . . this fool! is in their place!
Doheny: Such a fascinating office, Mr. Atchison.  How does it feel, every day, to be in a place of great men?
Atchison: I am reminded of the powers and duties of this great office, Mr. Doheny.
Doheny looks impressed.
Doheny: You know my name.  Very good.  I hope you consider that carefully over the next few months.
Atchison felt a shudder in his chest.  Even a man as obstinate and set in his ways as Atchison felt ill at ease with the presence of men like Doheny.  There was a look in the Irishman's eyes, a look that Atchison had seen before.  It was the look of military generals and conquerors.  It was the look of murderers and rapists.
It was the look of a man who would unleash Hell and tear down the world to achieve his objectives.
Atchison: I am the American President.  I know many things, Mr. Doheny.
Tweed was impressed by the reserve of his president.  Normally statements like Doheny's would result in quite a strong reaction from the President.
Doheny: Very well Mr. President.  Let me begin.  It has come to my attention that you and your administration, as well as many of our Southern Democratic brothers, are quite lukewarm to the needs of the great and many Irish people in this nation.
Oh dear Jesus, here we go. . . . .
Doheny: Rumor has it that you have even in private conferred to a friend of yours that if the American Party wins Congress and enacts legislation that is entirely and viscerally opposed to the presence and rights and liberties of the Irish here in America that you would feel "no great urgency to veto."  I must admit, I have little surprise.
Tweed: Michael!  This is the US Presiden-
Doheny: Don't damn well tell me who he is Bill!  I have not waged a war against British authoritarianism and evil in the Old World just to become a slave of it in the New World!  And neither have the millions and millions of New World Irish!
Atchison puts down his glasses.
Atchison: Good sir, you have a gross misinterpretation of my intentions and my course of policy in office.  I do respect the immigrant contribution to American society.  We are a culture and society of immigrants.  And your "rumor" is an insane distortion and lie from American propagandists.  I made no such statements nor have I made such a greatly insane hypothetical as you suggest.
He gets up from behind hid desk and sits on the corner of it nearest Doheny, facing him.
Atchison: You have no need for grave and incredible threats, Michael.  I am the American President.  Remember that, as I have remembered you.  I have devoted my entire life to upholding the US Constitution and the laws of the land.  I will not deviate from that.  There will be no need for my vote on such hypotheticals because they will not happen.  The House and the Senate will remain in Democratic hands and the only agenda that will be passed are those of the Democratic Party.  The Opposition will never, NEVER, get a majority!  THey are finished and through and on their way to the ash heap of history.
Doheny laughs.
Doheny: You truly are a politician aren't you?
Doheny slaps the thigh of the President before getting out of his chair, walking around the office.
Doheny: Truly a remarkable and majestic city.  Not as majestic as New York, mind, but still quite a beauty.
Doheny coughs.
Doheny: Mr. President, we both know that the situation in this country is more fragile than you can care to admit.  Even after your precious little ruling even members of your own party are in almost open rebellion.  There are riots in our cities, parishes being attacked, plantation raids, and open threats of secession.  As dominant as your party is, the national circumstances is far too fragile.  I am a very learned man Mr. President, and I know that your massive majorities can go away just like the wind!  And your false front has not and will not convince me or my great Fenian Brotherhood of your intentions and designs on the rights of Irishmen and the great community of immigrants in this country.
Atchison: Listen goddamn you, I will not be cowered by threats!
Doheny laughs.
Doheny: Mr. President, I make not threat.  Only a guarantee.  A guarantee that if you are on the right side of history you will be remembered most fondly.  If not, this city, this White House, and your Courts and Congresses will go the way of old Moscow.
Doheny opens the door.
Doheny: Mr. Tweed!  Our party will await your company later this evening!
As the door closes Tweed looks back at the horrified President.  Tweed laughs before lighting a cigar.
Tweed: This is politics, is it not?

[Mechaman]

Long belayed update:

Still at the White House:

President: Have you gone mad?  Allowing such an insane. . . . . Irishman into my midst who threatens anarchy and ruin if we don’t appeal to his radical dreams of revolution?
Tweed: Mister President, I must ask what is so insane with sticking up for the Irish?  Especially when they are, by default, reliable Democratic voters?
President: Well, the mad abolitionists definitely don’t have public support.  Our strength in Congress is undeniable.  The people have voted in the Democratic interest. . . . decisively.  The opposition is incompetent, and its latest course is more proof of it.  We won’t need to, and we most definitely shouldn’t, come out hard and strong in defense of the immigrant.  These “Americans” aren’t running on any strong issues that the Democrats have dominated on in the past decade.  Nobody is lining up to end slavery.  Sure, some Northern newspapers every now and then will make a loud stink of it, but the institution is here to stay.
Tweed: When are you going to realize that there are more issues at hand than your precious little slavery debate, you damned fool!?
President: Look, I can understand how emotional you Tammany Men are about all of these recent movements.  I mean hell, I can understand how this would threaten your electoral prospects.
Tweed: Mr. President, not only are virtually every Irishman who gets off the boat a guaranteed vote for Tammany, they are a guaranteed vote for the Democratic Party.  Or have you forgotten that the Tammany Society is just as much a part of your party as those goddamn landholders are?  Hell, the Irish have stood by the Party of Jefferson and Jackson since time immemorial, much longer than many of these precious landowning elites who are now suddenly voting Democratic because the Whigs wouldn’t know organization if it hit them right in the face!
The President points at Tweed angrily.
President: You dare raise your voice to me, Mr. Tweed?
Tweed: You bloody fool!  You truly know nothing, don’t you!?  It’s incredible that someone as thick as you could become President much less Pro Tempore!  Unbelievable that even in this high position you are still infantile on the workings of politics!
The President laughs.
President: Mr. Tweed, if this is your idea of politicking, that is loudmouthing and disrespecting the highest public official in the land, I must say that I’m quite shocked that you and your precious political machine is doing as well as it has.  You don’t seem to quite grasp what is at stake here.  This is about individual rights!  This is about ownership of property!  Me and my allies are merely trying to defend the US Constitution and our way of life from these religious fundamentalists and fanatics who have welcomed this bizarre idea that not only are all of these ns human, but that they somehow deserve the same rights as white men!  WHITE MEN!  AND YOU WANT TO PASS JUDGMENT ON ME, WHEN ALL YOU SEEM TO CARE ABOUT ARE A BUNCH OF GODDAMN CRIMINALS?
Tweed scoffs.
President: Have you at all considered what would happen if the highest office in the land made such a stance?  It could hurt us more than help us. . . . . . . . .
Tweed: Those “criminals” are our voters, Mr. President!  Wake up!
President: Yes yes yes, I heard all of that.  Point is, these “Americans” are going to be nowhere close to having anything close to a majority. . . . except maybe in their little lunatic fringe corner.  We can win the votes of most Americans who aren’t obsessed with slavers and papists.  I mean let’s be real honest here, Bill!  How many immigrants are now in this country?  And how many now have the right to vote?  These fools are protesting something that has already happened, just look at the 1852 results!  Sure, some fool in Boston is going to go on a morally righteous crusade about “the Pope’s New Army”, but how the hell does that threaten Democratic chances?  I say we just let these fools open their mouths and do the job of attracting immigrant voters for us?  Why should we bother putting up a vocal and activist front against these assaults?  Or are you seriously arguing that Hibernians and Germans have a strong urge to vote Whig?  Don’t make me laugh.
Tweed: Mr. President, these are Fenians.  You don’t seem to understand.  If they aren’t seeing any alternatives to their cause, if they can’t see a way to open the door. . . . . they will cut a hole in the floor, dig a tunnel into the area below the other room, and then blow the foundations with gunpowder. Hasn’t this country already seen enough bloodshed?
President: How much, Mr. Tweed?
Tweed: How much what!?
President: How much are your handlers willing to spend?
Tweed: You dare try to coerce a bribe from me!?
President: I hear that is what comes the most naturally to you.
Tweed looks down at his hands, most impressed with the president’s ability to cut through the bullsh**t.
Tweed: Touche Mr. President.  Touche.  Here is the deal. . . . . .

[Mechaman]

Later that night
At an undisclosed meeting house:

Doheny: I can't believe you brought me all the way to that place to talk to such a fool, Mr. Tweed.  How can we continue to rely on a bunch of elitists obsessed with holding human cattle to the point of invading Cuba with advancing Fenian Nationalism?
Tweed: Gentlemen, your lack of faith in the democratic process is saddening.  Emphasis on "Democratic"!
William R. Roberts: I see no point in appeasing such men.  We can accomplish more on the sidelines making the case city by city and state by state.  Sure, the rise in prejudice recently has been disturbing, but it is by no means a case for such an alarm that we should consider getting into bed with slaveowners to advance our cause.  No good can come of the slave debate, mark me words.
Just then a rugged man at the head of the table spoke up.

John Mitchel: My friend, these causes are exactly in connection.  The abolitionist, through their advocacy of rights and equality of the n slave with the industrious Irish race, has presented with us a grave and bold threat.  We can not ally nor reason with a people whose first inclination and nature is to be obedient apes to the great capitalist oppressors who have waged a war nigh of 700 years against our people.  That is why we must deal with the President.  That is why we must ally with those who are our most natural ally in the movement to liberate the poor and downtrodden Irish who reside in these northern cities.  I for one have no interest in abetting, encouraging, or by ignorance enable the bastardization of our race which would occur if we were to allow the blackman an equal say in society.
Doheny: My friend, I for one could give a damn about these racial theories of yours.  We got the Hall that should be enough to protect our influence.  And these Know Nothings have so far shown themselves to be quite mad in the head.  No way in hell do I see this movement taking off.  It is too much guided by egoists, madmen, insane clergy, and other assorted non-rational actors to be successful.  We need to keep all of these "blackie" issues off the table.  It does us little to no good to take a stand and agree either with the mad dog president and his obsession with conquering Spanish territory, or these vocal abolitionists who only contribute to further factionalizing our great Democratic Party.  We will talk to the White House, we will talk to Congress about preserving the great traditions of this country in protecting immigrant men and women as well as whatever support we can get for Fenianism, but I will not participate in any efforts to take a side in this slavery debate.
Mitchel: You daft fool!  You think that all of this talk about "the mad Irish" is just going to go away?  Or have you forgotten that this is a nation full of English people who bow down to their Puritan God?  There will always be prejudice against our great race from such violent savages who have forced a system of brutal wage slavery and economic starvation through the guise of "Capitalism"!  There will never be any freedom given to Irishmen in a nation ruled by Englishmen, not unless said Irishmen understand who their allies in this great war are and act accordingly.  Or are you just so in love with those abolitionist friends of yours you have coffee with that you disregard that on almost every recent occasion the black man has openly and willingly taken sides with the oppressors in breaking our strikes, our pay, and our very survival by threatening to take jobs and industries most naturally suited to our race and giving it to such. . .  animals?!
Doheny: I did not come here for no fuckin debate John!
Mitchel: Friend, it would mind you best if you were to refrain from such savage speech.
Doheny: And you are letting your fuckin racial views dominate our American campaign!  We need as diverse a support base as possible to combat threats like the Know Nothings and the British occupation of Canada!  Or are you just so intent on proving these mad clergymen and opportunistic conservative elitists correct?
The door opens from the back of the place to reveal a stoic figure with distinctive facial hair.
John O'Mahony, Founder of the American chapter of the Fenian Brotherhood.

O'Mahony: Youse all are yappin like a bunch of feckin chaldren!  Can't a man get some peace with his woman?
Tweed: Oh, so is that what you call your mother?
O'Mahony laughs.
O'Mahony: I want to make on thing very feckin clear to the lots of ya!  No killin!  We can't be sympathetic figures when our stunts end up on the front page of the New York Times like those buggers who pulled that Charleston job, can we?
Everyone in the room silently nods.
O'Mahony: Oh, and further I want all those cigarette boys checked before they enter the buildin'!  We been missin a few essential supplies lately, and I daint want to hear from the local authorities that a random Episcopal was burnt to the grind by some idiot kids with a soaked whiskey bottle and a match!  You got that!?
Everyone nods as O'Mahony, barechested, turns around and slams the door shut behind him.
Roberts looks at everyone.
Roberts: Ya heard the man!  Shut the hell up!
Tweed: So I guess that O'Mahony is out of the loop for now?
Roberts: He's got about half a dozen news outfits to operate.  Can't blame the man for having a nice smoke and drink in a while.
Doheny: Well we kind of need him to pull his head back into the business.  We need help organizing some. . .. . activities in the near future.  Ones that may or may not involve the Canada question we discussed earlier?
Roberts: Michael, we get some more urgent pressing matters now.  Your Canada plans will have to wait at least a couple more months until we see where the political landscape is.
Doheny: What is there to see?  We got a mad dog president who believes the only issue that exists is his precious landowner issue.  We got the manpower, the organization, and the public relations to pull this off!
Tweed: For god's sake just listen to the man Michael!  I need enough time to convince some of our allies in Congress that the movement is not as radical as the attackers make it out to be.  Just stay cool for now, okay?  You'll find action soon enough.. . . . . . .

[Mechaman]

Somewhere in Springfield, Illinois:

There sat a man whose appearance seemed to have been chiseled by the very earth itself with a disposition that seemed to disarm even the most vehement foe.
Abraham Lincoln.

Though a man of limited political experience, having just a few years in the state house and one term in the United States Congress to his record, the still somewhat young Lincoln had made a name for himself as a prominent frontier lawyer and politician this past decade.  Most notably for his strong stance against the Mexican-American War and other positions he staked in opposition to what many considered "the slave power".
But now he found himself in a different, yet very similar fight.
An unrepentant Whig, Lincoln found himself having to fight what amounted to a Civil War within his own party's ranks.  The rise of the "Know Nothings", a previously largely maligned and ignored group of fringe nativists that were limited to political success in Philadelphia and some local offices in New York, were suddenly gaining large influence even as far west as Illinois.  Out east many Whigs had already defected to the movement due to the successful efforts of Know Nothings in convincing everyone they had a moderate view on the slave issue and could stave off the "inevitable civil war" whilst advocating an ideology that Lincoln found sickening.
Even devout abolitionists and opponents of bigotry like Thad Stevens succombed to Know Nothingism out east.  Such a trend disturbed the somewhat egalitarian Lincoln, who sought to defend the Whig legacy of principled conservative governance that respected individual liberty against the tyrannic excesses of Jackonianism.
Know Nothingism, in Lincoln's view, was a step in the opposite direction.
As defacto leader of the western Whigs Lincoln found himself in a non-enviable position.  He was the leader of an endangered coalition and was forced by the circumstance of his time to make a final stand for his beloved party against a movement that he believed threatened the very nature of the American Republic.  At the same time he could not, due to his long history of opposition to the excesses of Jackonianism, join the Democratic Party which advocated policies that in his mind endangered the country.  Especially with the latest suggestions by the White House of an invasion of Cuba, he remained more opposed to the Democratic Party than he was even before.
Out of office for a few years, Lincoln didn't really know his next move.  A few of his former colleagues floated the idea of having nominated for the Senate if the next elections turn out good for the party.  Lincoln had a chuckle, thinking about how it would be to face James Shields again.  Only this time, him and the hot tempered Irishman would be facing in the political arena, and not with long swords.
Whatever the case may've been, Lincoln's role in American History would be pivotal.