Selected Works of the Woodward Family: The Penna Draft
The exact author of the Penna Draft remains unknown to this day. Stumbled upon by a distant cousin of the Woodwards in the family’s Quakertown residence in 1917, they could not discern from their relatives who wrote the tale; none knew. Its subsequent publication was swiftly followed by a brief period of interest in the media before just as quickly fading from the public eye. The popular belief at the time was that the draft was penned solely by the President George Washington Woodward in 1862 during Pryor’s Civil War, a time during which the former President was famously known to be in a deep melancholy and bitterness to the events transpiring around him, in his own words, “watching my legacy die, and the country with it.” The tale’s clear bitterness towards Mormons who many at the time and to this day loathe and blame solely for the outbreak of the crisis echoes Woodward’s own sentiments; as does the lauding of President George Armstrong, Governor William Hiester, and of course John C. Calhoun, all of whom were admired in varying degrees by Woodward. Modern scholarship has found this assumption to be questionable. The handwriting closely matches Woodward’s at the time, but cannot conclusively be said to be the same penmanship. Furthermore, whereas in A Pennamite’s Recollection of Our First Executives Woodward ranked Armstrong among the lower echelon of President for his actions in formulating the Keystone Plot, a sentiment he’d hold, as far as can be discerned, for the rest of his life. In the Penna Draft, Armstrong is described as a misguided martyr led strongly by his passions and left paranoid by the machinations of the Hamiltonian conspiracy, which Woodward considered to be an exaggerated threat. Hiester, too, is elevated beyond what Woodward is known to have thought of the man. The disparaging portrayal of Connecticut in the tale also proves unusual for the fact the Woodward’s family were among those that moved from the state to Northeastern Pennsylvania. It is entirely plausible that this shift in characterization could have been a by-product of Woodward’s mental state at the time. All the same, these factors combined with the family’s lack of knowledge as to an actual author makes it difficult to conclude that George Washington Woodward was its author.
What is known is that his son, George Abisha Woodward, who requires little introduction, harbored sentiments reflected in the tale. He held no love for the distant memory of a Connecticut background, and through his experience fighting in Pryor’s Civil War not only came to hold a great fervor for his Pennsylvanian identity but a loathing for other states he concluded to have acted against her, Connecticut among them. His fervor for his Commonwealth, which lended itself well to highly favorable opinions of Gerome Armstrong and Hiester could explain their portrayals. The handwriting is similar to what is seen in his correspondences. But the son too cannot be concluded beyond a doubt as the author. He stood apart from his father in his opinion of John C. Calhoun and the South in general given his experiences in the War; his father at worst a begrudging admirer (Pryor’s administration notwithstanding), he himself at best viewing the South as the mildly lesser pest to the Mormons. Father and son have similar handwriting as it stands, given that the former personally taught his child to write, and his son, admiring his father, was quick to emulate him. And that is to say nothing of the fact the younger Woodward was actively serving in the Northern army. The prose is curiously dissimilar to the more famous works of either individual. We do not and perhaps may never know which of these two men wrote the tale. There are strong arguments in favor of each, and lately the idea that both men had a hand in writing it has gained traction. Some postulate that it was a collaborative work sent back and forth between the Woodwards as a therapeutic practice that kept both men connected during the conflict; others that George Abisha picked it up after the death of his father. Whatever the case, what is more likely than not is that it is a wholly Woodward story.
Excerpt from The Penna Draft
“The mischief of the times, within this country, and much of that which ails her, can be drawn to a single source…this man who, once writing under the name of Tully, embodies more a Catiline; this wretch, who stole and abused our greatest Commander’s name for his own ends…this man whose treachery rivals that of Benedict Arnold’s: Alexander Hamilton.”
So spoke the greatest man to hold the Presidency in his day. With these words, the Confederacy’s greatest fraud, this Judas of the American story, the original sinner whose misdeeds would taint this nation forevermore, the Catiline, the would-be Caesar, the devil whose conduct would be the providence of the Mormon heretics to come, Alexander Hamilton, would be brought to justice. But any man who knows the story of our Union of States knows that this sort of chicanery would not die with the snake, no, the hydra, for where one head was severed more would rise. Enter Joseph Smith, father of the bigamist “prophet” and later convert to his seed’s heresy. Convinced to enter politics by none other than the American Catiline’s son, he bided his time, ascending the judiciary until leading the defense of the sinful scion himself against the righteous proceedings of the Armstrong administration. A wicked heart recognizes its ilk, and so it would be that in failing to stop the tides of fate from claiming yet another tyrant, a lifelong loathing for our great Commonwealth and those who would serve her in governance. Fate can be a cruel mistress, and in this period would elect to be so. In his love for Pennsylvania and fear of Hamiltonian scheming, which had not only wrought a miserable life upon George Washington but continued to threaten the nation, Armstrong sought to secure the Republic in the heart of the only place he knew could trust to, in Franklin’s words, “keep it,” the Commonwealth itself. The remnants of the Hamiltonian machine would jump on the chance to topple the only man who held the resolve to totally excise their plague from the American body once and for all, and in Smith they found their champion. Through the spreading of seditious sentiments and schemes that would endear them to their late hero, the nation would be turned against the President, and in an act of blatant chicanery that even a Pryor could not conceive, the Supreme Court reopened a decades-long resolved territorial dispute between Pennsylvania and Connecticut over the prosperous Wyoming Valley, where some so-called “Wild Yankees” continued to stir mischief and refuse to recognize what had been settled in Trenton, a settlement the Court, formerly located in the Hamiltonian nest of New York City itself, was all too happy to declare illegitimate.
The corrupt bargain in the following Presidential election remains ever-infamous to this day, another Hamiltonian coup that saw Smith seize the Executive through a split vote and back room wheeler-dealing. The venerable Daniel Webster was misled by Smith into joining his campaign and cast aside at the last minute for John Quincy Adams, and Andrew Jackson, victor in both the vote of the people and the Electoral College was deprived his duly-won office. Armstrong would die of poisoning, officially of suicide, yet any observer of the day would know the culprit of the murder. Killing the man was not enough; his legacy was to burn as well. The Supreme Court returned to the Hamiltonian den, the investigation into Napoleon’s death ceased, the administration’s actions in handling the Cherokee problem undo. Pennsylvania was allowed to suffer. Rather than rightfully seeing that the Wyoming Valley was not, in fact, an exclave of little Connecticut, Smith let the situation fester and deceived Webster into allowing a vote to decide the matter three years hence, plenty of time for the old Yankee scoundrels to be lent the full support of the Hamiltonian machine in sewing mischief throughout the Commonwealth. Innocents would die, and Erie would burn to the wicked glee of Smith and his friends. As the coup de grace, Smith placed the onus of this time of troubles upon the shoulders of the esteemed Governor Joseph Hiester and ordered a sham investigation to further bring his boot down upon our Commonwealth. Hiester would boldly stand against the reborn Hamiltonian menace, but he would stand alone, save for the commendable actions of South Carolina. The confrontation between the Pennsylvanian militia and the Federal forces need not be recounted here; Smith would reign in infamy until he shed his mortal coil.
The tragedy of Armstrong and Hiester is the tragedy of Gaius Marius, of Cicero, of Washington, of the Union has been torn apart before our very eyes. In times such as these, it is easy to yield to despair. Thus, it beseeches us, we sons of the Commonwealth, of our forefathers who fought for her liberty, of those of us who continue to do so, that we do not succumb to melancholy. So, we must hope. We must dream, of a better age to come. And, as so many before us, we must dream of a life not our own. Just as many dream of a world where Washington did not meet such a horrid fate, as many others dream of a life in which our Republic did not tear itself apart, as all mankind dreamed of Adam and Eve not despoiling the gift of the garden, we too must dream of another life in which these martyrs need not be so; that the winds of Fate would blow once more to liberty rather than tyranny. It is as much a relief as a tragedy that such a thing may have easily occurred.
It is known to history that John Quincy Adams’s fateful trip to the Panama Congress in Bogota was intended to accommodate one more political juggernaut of the day, Daniel Webster himself. A bout of illness prevented Webster’s presence on this journey. In our dream, however, Webster would not fall ill at this crucial juncture and rather accompany the Vice President. Venerable as the man was, a soul calls for a soul, and on this trip he would join with Adams in entering the domain of our Lord. Not only would the Republic be left without its Vice President, but with one of its Great Triumvirs laid to rest. For the drunkard Smith, whose success in the political arena relied heavily upon the manipulation of this great man, this loss would sting greatly. A pawn was struck from the board and the “President” would struggle to find one who might fill its place, and would show the expected conduct of a snake whose den has been exposed. He would lash out.
Hiester made the most obvious target, being the leading force against Smith’s tyranny. The Federal “investigation” into the Governor would escalate. Members of the Pennsylvania legislature suspected of “treason” (of course, being a defiance of the ideals of the late Hamilton) would have their mail intercepted and leaked, several would be arrested, and Smith would publicly and openly ponder over the prospect of sending Federal troops to “ensure the just treatment of the good Yankees of the Wyoming Valley,” emboldening the machinations of Hamiltonian Connecticut. All the same as in our history, Hiester and the General Assembly would act to save their Commonwealth and the Republic at large. December 9th of 1831 would see the issuing of the Declaration of Rights of the Commonwealth and Grievances with the Executive, words which would resound throughout the souls of the Commonwealth and draw the line in the sand against Hamiltonianism.
1. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania will refrain from the payment of dues to Federal Government so long as it prosecutes an unlawful investigation into the esteemed Governor, Representatives, and Senators of the Commonwealth.
2. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania recognizes the Supreme Court’s relocation from Philadelphia to New York as an illegal act motivated by the desire to punish the Commonwealth and ensure the survival of a Hamiltonian establishment, and that such an illegal act must be rectified.
3. That upon these terms, the Pennsylvania Election Board will be left with no recourse but to decertify the parties of “Progress” and “Prosperity”.
Such a bold stand was not anticipated by a President accustomed to victory through guile and coercion. In his drunken stupor he found few but sycophants in his cabinet who were willing to do little but affirm the few decisions he was capable of making on his own terms without a legion of scoundrels at his back. There was one, of course, who was open in his desire to dominate the President, one who was the only individual the President would listen to without question. That one being his son, Smith Jr. His foul, bigamous cult had found a perfect harmony with the Hamiltonians and became the natural point of conversion for many a lunatic. Smith Sr., plagued with a delusion that was only surpassed by his spawn was long a devout follower. Whereas we know him to have been open about his conversion later into his term, there can be no doubt that he was already practicing heresy. And with no Webster to turn to, the President found himself easily swayed by his child. Hiester’s denunciations of the President’s son and his faith would not do, the younger Smith would say. No, the spirit of Armstrong was very much alive and well in Pennsylvania, and the State’s defiance would prove a longterm obstacle in the spread of their faith and the realization of God’s vision for America. A heavy-handed approach was needed. The time for moderation had passed; had that not been the lesson of Hamilton’s death? Of Armstrong’s fall? Give the Pennamites an inch and a mile they will take. Stomp them out with quick and decisive action, and they will prove unable to resist, limited by their own morality and penchant towards the good and just. Hiester was a rat, placed by God as a test for the survival of America just as Armstrong had been. He had to go, and there could be no more half-measures: his father must open about his devotion to the true faith, to the new Christendom, to the Mormon Cult.
Agreeing with his son, President Smith would openly declare his faith in his son, in the Book of Mormon, in the teachings of his church. Not long after, he would act as he had historically in declaring his intent to send Federal troops to subdue the Commonwealth and forcefully extort her bounteous wealth should she not yield, to see her State Militia federalized, and Governor Hiester arrested for treason. An uproar would be heard amongst the just men of this country; silent glee could be observed in the faces of many a Connecticut scoundrel, New York merchant, and Mormon disciple. The good would find their standard-bearers in Hiester and the venerable John C. Calhoun. Echoing the sentiments of the righteous, he would speak plainly:
“. . The present crisis of our political system originated in the seditious influences of the insipid faction which plagued the country for nearly a quarter of a century in its first two administrations, in truth but one, the lingering consequences of the machinations of that salacious whore Alexander Hamilton. Now these elements have reached their natural conclusion, the inheritance of those efforts by the tyrant to create an Imperial cult, made manifest in the Mormon ideology, a nexus of abolition, sedition, and bigamy…the efforts of Armstrong were paltry and fleeting, sage in their motivation, in the face of the oppression the good people of Pennsylvania now suffer…the oppression all this Republic shall surely face should we not act…”
Inspired by Calhoun’s words and acting in solidarity, the South Carolina legislature would act at the behest of its governor and follow the will of its people in issuing its own Declaration of Rights and Grievances.
To the Smiths occupying the Executive, this was an act amounting to treason, and their ire would fall upon South Carolina as well. Discarding the mask utterly, the President appointed his son to the effective command of the Federal army. Smith Jr. would proceed in entrusting another portion of the army to his brother Samuel in subduing the South Carolinians while sending William Henry Harrison forth with orders to federalize the State Militia. It would be during this time that a correspondence between the two brothers would be turned over by its Philadelphian courier to said force. This letter would go down in infamy and expose the intents of the Smith family, their Mormon Cult and the Hamiltonians that comprised it. Not only would Pennsylvania be made to pay taxes; it would be permanently stripped of the Wyoming Valley, to serve as a promised land—a Zion—for the Mormon people. The rest of the Commonwealth would be scourged and the Mormon religion enforced upon it. Failing this, the State would be ravaged.
Seeing the truth of the matter at last, when Harrison’s advance force met with the Pennsylvania State Militia, it was not an exchange of fire. Instead, speaking to their commander, Harrison would offer to bring over his men to the defense of the Commonwealth. The Pennsylvanians obliged; Harrison soon found himself commander of a an assortment of Federal troops and Keystone Militiamen. With this force, he would turn and meet Smith’s men outside Harrisburg. Knowing that any honest soldier would reject any orders, Smith instead rallied a force compromised of diehard Mormons, Hamiltonians, Connecticut Yankees, Cherokee Indians, and the various rogues of society for his foul task.
The first clash occurred outside the Borough of Middletown. Harrison, wise to the intentions of the enemy sent a messenger ahead informing Smith that he had in fact succeeded in his mission and was bringing the Pennsylvanian Militia over to the service of the Federal army. Blinded by his own arrogance the Mormon allowed himself to rest on his laurels, supposing that he could leave the hard parts of the campaign up to Harrison and instead enjoy the fruits of revenge upon any captured Pennsylvanians he would get his hands upon, perhaps treat himself to a few new wives from the Keystone State. Receiving Smith’s reply, Harrison knew that now was the time: he rallied the forces for a lightning raid on Smith’s much larger army. Under the cover of night and a raging storm, the Federal force was caught utterly off guard and decimated. Smith himself barely escaped, fleeing with his tail between his legs to Columbia with the scattered remnants of his army. Weighing their options, the cowardly President and his son elected to evacuate with the riches of the Executive capital, South towards the District of the Potomac. Harrison’s troops soon followed, and the District of Columbia passed easily into their hands. In their haste to escape, the enemy would leave much behind, including documents and letters that confirmed the depths of their conspiracy and their intentions. Among these were notes confirming the poisoning of Armstrong and the general hocus-pocus the elements of the conspiracy used to bring woe upon the good Commonwealth and her friends.
Hiester would receive the news with the utmost jubilation and declare Harrison a hero of the Pennsylvanian people. With age taking its toll upon his body, he knew his time was short, and in his last days would call upon every able-bodied Pennsylvanian to take up arms in defense of their state and honor the sacrifices their fathers had made in the Revolution. With hope in his heart and faith in his people, Hiester passed peacefully from this world. Per the enlightened constitution of our Commonwealth, the office of governor would pass from the hands of one great to another: from Hiester, to the Speaker of the Senate, one Horatio Gates Armstrong.