London, Great Britain

October 15th, 1834

"It is almost time, Your Majesty," The Duke of Wellington stated as he gracefully smiled at his monarch. "The coronation will begin in an hour."

Queen Charlotte the First, formerly known as Princess Charlotte Augusta of Wales before her father's removal from the throne, looked at the prime minister with a mixed expression and nodded curtly. She was normally known to have an abundance of energy and a youthful spirit, yet she remained sullen despite her approaching coronation. The prime minister and the Queen's escorts knew the reason for her downcast behavior, as her father was forced to abdicate the throne due to pressures from Parliament and the people themselves. They had turned on her father, King George IV, after the papers revealing his role in the disastrous Anglo-American War were leaked to the general public. They patiently waited as she asked, "Are the preparations finished?"

"Of course. The people are already gathering outside for the ceremony. It seems as though your recent speeches have won back the favor of the people."

That was very far from the truth and everyone knew it, even the Prince Consort Christian August of Sweden. The public was still angry, and rightfully so. The abdication of King George IV and the reassurances made by Queen Charlotte to cede near all of the monarchial powers to Parliament soothed some of the public's outrage, but their unhappiness towards the monarchy was very evident. With the rapid downturn the British Empire was facing due to the war with America, the public blamed the (former) King and, by default, his daughter, the new monarch of Britain. Only a few radical republicans called for the monarchy to be abolished, but the sentiment of dissatisfaction hung over the entirety of Britain like a wet rag. While there was a sizeable crowd waiting for the Queen's coronation to begin, it was much smaller and rather indifferent compared to the crowds that eagerly gathered for the coronation of the two previous monarchs.

"I see." The Queen did not say much else, waiting silently for the processions to begin so she could get them over with. Meanwhile, the others lightly chatted amongst themselves as they recognized that the Queen wanted some time alone.

Queen Charlotte was thirty-eight years old, and despite her tomboyish personality in her early years, she had grown to be an elegant and refined lady with a strong interest in music and arts. She had married Prince Christian August, the second son of King Charles August of Sweden, when she was twenty years old after meeting him at a party in London. The monarch already had two sons: a seventeen-year-old named Edward and a fourteen-year-old named William. Originally, she wanted her eldest son Edward to inherit the throne, due to her conflicted emotions over the abdication of her father. When the prime minister and his Cabinet approached her before the passage of His Majesty's Abdication Act, she was aghast at the government's insistence on placing the failures of the war on her father. She objected strongly to the proposal and attempted to convince Prime Minister Wellington away from the plan, but she was rebuffed by both the Cabinet and Parliament. After the Act passed and the King was forcibly removed from the throne, the then-princess Charlotte nearly refused to accept the throne as she cared little about the court politics and despised the fact that her father was vilified by society.

Yet, she had to accept for several reasons. The first was the fact that the public trusted her, to an extent. She was known to be free-spirited and kind, and the public adored her due to her public image. As the only child of the most recent king and his heiress, she was naturally the center of attention in the British upper echelons, and for the lower classes. Prime Minister Wellington argued that she was the only one that could restore the public's faith in the monarchy and calm the growing discontent within the country, ignoring the fact that he was the strongest proponent to remove the previous monarch. However, Queen Charlotte recognized that his statements were true. The people saw her in a positive light, even after the abdication of her father. Many believed that she would be a better monarch than King George IV and after her reassurances to the public, that view was only strengthened.

Not only that, but her children were too young to inherit the strain of the title, "King of Great Britain." The British Empire was in peril and needed a diplomatic and well-received monarch to guide it through its time of crisis (even if the monarch's powers were limited). Edward was bright, but he was unprepared to inherit the throne. Thus, she dutifully agreed to assume her position as the Queen of Great Britain and surprisingly, received her father's blessing (who was currently "retired" away from London).

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"Prime Minister! Your Majesty!" An aide rushed into the private room within Westminister Abbey.

"How dare you disrupt..."

"American warships are heading towards London, Your Excellencies! The ships are made of metal and they float!"

Queen Charlotte turned to the prime minister, whose face had paled considerably. He cleared his throat and looked at his monarch with a calm expression, "I am sure that our coastal guns and the Western Squadron will be able to deal with them, Your Majesty. Do not worry, they will never strike London itself."

+++++

Vincent Holder squinted as he looked towards the east where a battle was happening. He was in the small parish of Canvey Island that was several leagues east of London and was with a large group of people who were also watching the clash on the seas. The British Western Squadron was engaging with some... odd looking ships with dark coating. From the distance, he was unsure which side was winning, but he assumed that the Royal Navy would emerge victoriously. After all, it was the best navy in the world and the odd-looking ships were outnumbered nearly ten to one.

"I heard those ships that are fighting our ships are Yankee ships," Someone near Vincent whispered.

"The Yankees sent only five ships to fight us? They must be stupider than I thought."

Instead of making his own comments, Vincent continued watching the American warships fight against the British ships. He saw numerous explosions and fires break out on the wooden ships, but the strange-looking Yankee ships looked unscathed even after two hours passed. By that time, a few people had already left as they expected the battle to end in Britain's favor, but the folks that remained behind watched in shock and horror as the American ships pushed through the wreckage of the British Western Squadron (with all the ships on fire or completely destroyed). As the ships came closer and closer, Vincent realized that the hostile ships were made of metal, and remained afloat despite the absurdity of the idea of a metal warship. Each ship carried dozens of guns and the American flag, with thirty-three stars and fifteen stripes, waved proudly above them. Luckily for him, the ships did not fire upon the group as they passed by, but he saw a number of American sailors grinning down at him and the other civilians. A few of them carried firearms, but not a single shot was fired towards them for some odd reason.

The lead ship of the small American fleet had its name painted boldly on its hull for everyone to see: USS Samuel Kim.

As the American ships entered the Thames River, Vincent broke out into a sprint to witness just what the ships were planning to do. It was obvious that they were heading towards London, but were they planning on carrying out an invasion of the heart of the British Empire? Or turning the city into a sea of fire?

"I'll remain outside the city," Vincent mumbled to himself, "But those monstrosities... I need to see what happens."

When the ships entered the city through the Thames, all of them opened fired with their many cannons. Shell after shell fell upon the city, most of them aimed at the dockyard, but a few landed within the city itself. Vincent was unable to see where the shells within the city landed, but he silently prayed that the Queen would not be struck by those explosive terrors. The metal ships fired for only half an hour, but by then, hundreds of shells had landed within and around the city (as the ships had advanced cannons that could fire several shots within a minute). After they finished, one of the ships fired another broadside that struck the heart of the city itself, before they retreated back into the ocean and headed south.

It would take a week for Vincent to learn the extent of the damage caused by the Yankees from the newspapers. Initially, the newspapers attempted to suppress the true extent of the damage caused by the American raid, but after American Admiral Reynold John Jones released photographic evidence in France, along with the list of targets his fleet had struck across Britain, the aftermath of the raid spread across the Isles. Many of London's monuments were destroyed, such as the Bank, the Tower, Buckingham Palace, and the Westminister Palace. To Vincent's relief, Westminister Abbey was not targetted and the Queen escaped the attack unscathed, though her coronation was completely ruined. The docks in London were completely destroyed and burnt to the ground, along with all the ships within. Despite the surprising restraint showed by the American warships, numerous stray shots and the final salvo fired into London killed over a thousand inhabitants and set parts of the city on fire.

That was not all. After the raid on London, the American warships continued to terrorize the British Isles for three days (apparently, getting resupplied from France). The Western Squadron lost nearly fifty ships (with the French Navy joining the fray as well) during that period, a disastrous number of losses as it now allowed the French Navy to contend with the British Navy in Europe. The dockyards in Woolwich, Deptford, Chatham, Sheerness, Plymouth, Portsmouth, and Pembroke were all destroyed. Bristol was also raided and parts of the city were in ruins (though they were largely industrial areas).

All in all, it was the most disastrous three days in the British Empire's history, which would take years to recover from...