BACKGROUND: The fall semester has begun. As part of Metropolis' 'Heritage
Days' festival, Luthor Corp. has flung open the doors of the museum.
Smallville High has joined a state-wide excursion to the city's fall
festival. A painting sheds light on the bitter feud between Lionel Luthor
and his Gotham rival, the late Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father. Their families
- each one a legend on the American continent - have paid for that success.
With their blood. From the first shots of the American Revolution, to the
US Civil War, to the tense, soul-searching, post-Vietnam era of the 1970s,
the Waynes and the Luthors have served as allies ... and fought as enemies.
It's not a sequel, but a companion piece to my Bruce fics. I've made
reference to the Wayne-Luthor feud, but I haven't explored it.
Until now.
This is their story - with implications for the doomed friendship between Lex and Clark ...
[Luthor Hall, Metropolis Museum]
Chloe raced through Luthor Hall. "This is sooo cool!" she exclaimed. She pressed her face against the glass case. Inside, there were relics unearthed from a recent excavation in the city. An old British fort, dated from the Seven Years' War, lay dormant for almost 300 years.
Now set free, thanks to Lionel Luthor's plans (now put on hold) to build a corporate plaza on the site.
Pete wrinkled his nose. "An old ratty jacket? A few musket balls? Man, that stuff is old."
Clark looked at another display. A faded, frayed Union Jack, a tarnished belt buckle. "From the Seven Years' War?"
"Well actually," Lex interrupted, "only the Europeans and Canadians give it such a grandiose name. We Yankees know it as the French and Indian War. Britain and France fought for possession of America. The site of Metropolis was a rather minor skirmish. Quebec was the real prize. We wouldn't take centre stage until the Boston Tea Party."
Clark was fascinated. "So this fort was still in British hands at the time of the Revolution?"
Lex was about to answer when Chloe added, "This was a critical British base then. It gave them a route to the Mississippi basin. George Washington knew that the Patriots had to take the fort ..."
Lex interrupted. "Fort Orange, named after William of Orange. Chloe's right. It was here that the British resupplied and launched guerrilla attacks against American frontier posts."
Pete looked at another case. A British musket crossed against a Yankee battle flag. "Brother against brother. Intense."
"So did the fort finally fall to the Patriots?" Clark wondered.
Lex frowned. "No. The fort held throughout the Revolution."
Chloe walked towards a painting. It must be from Luthor's private collection, she mused. A portrait of some American officers, circa 1779.
Five of them. The man in the middle was obviously George Washington.
"Found something interesting, Chloe?" Clark asked.
"Something's oddly familiar about two of these officers," Chloe muttered.
"So you've noticed a portrait of my forefather, Elijah Luthor. Our family records show that he was a blacksmith by trade. He enlisted with the Continental Army just before the battle of Lexington. He had become a colonel by war's end."
Clark peered closer at the painting. The officer in the distance. The dark hair. "That's a Wayne!"
Lana wandered near the painting. "As in the Waynes of Gotham? It doesn't seem likely. Bruce Wayne's forefathers were fighting the British in New York and Delaware."
"Look, I know Bruce is your friend," Pete chided, "but, c'mon. What would a Wayne be doing out here on the frontier - when all the action was in New England."
"Intriguing," Lex stated. "You might be on to something, Clark. I'll have some of our historians go through the city archives."
Perhaps by going through the past, Lex thought, I can better understand the present. My father is a sworn enemy of the Wayne family. Maybe there's more to it than personal dislike.
"I've heard the Waynes began the Revolution on the British side," Chloe thought aloud.
"That's impossible," Clark shook his head, "the Waynes were in almost every major battle, right up to Yorkton."
"That wasn't always the case," Lex stated tersely. "The Wayne family had been loyal to the Crown since the days of Elizabeth I. They had to make a choice when war broke out in the colonies. At the start, the choice was life and liberty, or King and country." He sat on a nearby leather bench. Clark, Chloe, Lana and Pete gathered around, as Lex explained how the Luthors and Waynes began their legendary stories on opposite sides of the War of Independence ...
[1775, Concord]
The horse galloped through the streets just before dawn. "The British are coming! The British are coming!" Edward Wayne woke up. He had ordered his brothers and sisters to stay indoors. Their parents had died the previous winter of scurvy. Edward, the eldest son, was duty-bound to keep their family together. Safe. Most of their neighbours sided with the Patriot rebels.
I am a Loyalist, Edward told himself. These vagabonds want to rule the colonies as if they were kings. His family was also alienated by faith. The fiercely Protestant town residents shunned and ridiculed the Waynes, one of the few Catholic families in Concord.
Frantic knocking rang throughout the house. Edward pulled back the flinklock of his musket.
"Friend or foe!" Edward demanded.
"Friend, dammit! It's Jack Cartwright!" Edward lifted the bar lock and let his friend in. Jack was a strict Puritan, but was one of the few townsfolk who had befriended the Waynes.
"I have good news. I've heard that General Gage is sending some British soldiers to put down this rebellion. It'll be all over by suppertime. I've gathered a few of the Loyalist men together. We're going to ambush the rebels so-called 'colonial' militia. Join us!"
Edward paused. He had nine brothers and sisters to protect. "I will give you what spare ammunition I have. But I must remain here, should the rebels pass this way."
Jack nodded as he packed the spare musket balls into his pockets. "Take care, Edward. This'll be over soon."
Edward sat in front of the window. They came at dawn.
General Gage's troops marched in line. Pipers followed with the Union Jack and regimental colours. They were here to arrest the colonial militia's leaders and confiscate any arms stockpiled by the rebels.
A British officer in a black-skinned hat pounded on his door. "Are you a Loyalist house?"
Edward waved. "Yes, we are. George III, by God's grace, is our lord and master. I must remain here to defend my house."
The British officer nodded and waved his troops forward. In the distance, a volley of musket shots echoed through the trees. I wonder how Jack is doing, Edward wondered.
A stray musket ball cracked through the window. The battle is coming closer, Edward feared.
He poured gunpowder into his musket, and primed it. Pray for us, blessed mother, he mumbled.
"What's going on?" Sara, the eldest of the Wayne daughters, peered from the kitchen.
"Stay inside!" Edward barked. "The battle draws near." He lifted the wooden bar lock and shouldered his musket.
British redcoats were fleeing. Shots continued from the rear. A pair of redcoats knelt to return fire. One managed to flee. The other tried to join him, but an accurate volley toppled him onto the dirt road.
Edward ran to the dying soldier. "What's going on?"
The soldier coughed a mouthful of blood. "Colonials ... ambush ... caught us in the trees ... lost 200 ..." The shots came closer. He tried to pass his musket to Wayne. "You fight them ... fight them!" A slight gurgle, and the soldier passed into eternity.
Edward, with blood rushing to his head, pushed the bullet down with the ramrod, knelt and aimed his musket at the first of the advancing colonials. The bullet landed between the enemy's eyes.
He poured another pouch of gunpowder in the musket. Faster, Edward. Faster! Another shove of the ramrod and he aimed again.
He heard a shriek. Sara! He turned towards his house. Colonial minutemen were torching his roof.
"No!" Edward ran to stop them, but one of the minutemen swung a musket butt against his head. The militia had rounded up his family, separating the boys from their older sisters.
Edward scowled. "Traitors! You owe your allegiance to your King!"
The minutemen laughed. "We are free men now. No lord, no king has the right to restrict our God-given liberties." Their lieutenant directed them to line up the boys against the fence. "We cannot allow these boys to grow up. In a few years, they'll be old enough to join those redcoats. Ready ... aim ..."
"Please," Edward sobbed. "Spare the boys. Kill me if you must. Let them live."
A group of minutemen dragged Sara and her two sisters out onto the road. "What shall we do with these papist wenches?"
The lieutenant roared in laughter. "They, too, are the enemy. Treat them like the English whores they are. Ravish them to death."
"No!" Edward rushed towards the rowdy militia. A pistol shot silenced them.
Another officer stepped forward. "Civilians, loyalist or otherwise, are not to be harassed. If we are to win this war, we need the people's support!"
He took off a glove and smacked the lieutenant's face. "You would dishonour these women, while in the same breath, proclaim the right to liberty!" He instructed the militia to release Wayne's family.
Edward crumpled on the ground. "Thank you. Thank you, kind sir."
The officer helped him up. "Captain Elijah Luthor, Continental Army. Please accept my apologies. Many of these militia are little more than uneducated farmhands. I respect your loyalty to the British, flawed though it may be. But this town is now under the authority of the Continental Army. Gather your possessions and leave by dusk. I grant you safe passage until then. Remain, and the sin of what comes to pass lies on your head."
Edward gathered his family and whatever belongings could be saved. He stopped the wagon and took one last glance at Concord. My home. Our family has lived here for over 100 years. He seethed in rage as the cursed stars- and-stripes banner of the Patriots flapped atop the town hall.
He could tell which houses were Loyalist. They were put to the torch.
Sara huddled amongst her siblings in the rear. "What will become of us, Edward?" Sara cried.
"We go to New York. It's still in British hands," Edward replied.
Further down the road, he spotted Jack Cartwright. Tarred and feathered, he hung from the branch of a large oak tree. A crude sign 'Loyalist pig' hung around his neck.
At that moment, Edward knew that he would not hide. Once the family has been sent to a safe, British colony, I shall remain here in America. To fight for my king.
If it is indeed the Almighty's will, I shall kill Yankees along the way.
Until now.
This is their story - with implications for the doomed friendship between Lex and Clark ...
[Luthor Hall, Metropolis Museum]
Chloe raced through Luthor Hall. "This is sooo cool!" she exclaimed. She pressed her face against the glass case. Inside, there were relics unearthed from a recent excavation in the city. An old British fort, dated from the Seven Years' War, lay dormant for almost 300 years.
Now set free, thanks to Lionel Luthor's plans (now put on hold) to build a corporate plaza on the site.
Pete wrinkled his nose. "An old ratty jacket? A few musket balls? Man, that stuff is old."
Clark looked at another display. A faded, frayed Union Jack, a tarnished belt buckle. "From the Seven Years' War?"
"Well actually," Lex interrupted, "only the Europeans and Canadians give it such a grandiose name. We Yankees know it as the French and Indian War. Britain and France fought for possession of America. The site of Metropolis was a rather minor skirmish. Quebec was the real prize. We wouldn't take centre stage until the Boston Tea Party."
Clark was fascinated. "So this fort was still in British hands at the time of the Revolution?"
Lex was about to answer when Chloe added, "This was a critical British base then. It gave them a route to the Mississippi basin. George Washington knew that the Patriots had to take the fort ..."
Lex interrupted. "Fort Orange, named after William of Orange. Chloe's right. It was here that the British resupplied and launched guerrilla attacks against American frontier posts."
Pete looked at another case. A British musket crossed against a Yankee battle flag. "Brother against brother. Intense."
"So did the fort finally fall to the Patriots?" Clark wondered.
Lex frowned. "No. The fort held throughout the Revolution."
Chloe walked towards a painting. It must be from Luthor's private collection, she mused. A portrait of some American officers, circa 1779.
Five of them. The man in the middle was obviously George Washington.
"Found something interesting, Chloe?" Clark asked.
"Something's oddly familiar about two of these officers," Chloe muttered.
"So you've noticed a portrait of my forefather, Elijah Luthor. Our family records show that he was a blacksmith by trade. He enlisted with the Continental Army just before the battle of Lexington. He had become a colonel by war's end."
Clark peered closer at the painting. The officer in the distance. The dark hair. "That's a Wayne!"
Lana wandered near the painting. "As in the Waynes of Gotham? It doesn't seem likely. Bruce Wayne's forefathers were fighting the British in New York and Delaware."
"Look, I know Bruce is your friend," Pete chided, "but, c'mon. What would a Wayne be doing out here on the frontier - when all the action was in New England."
"Intriguing," Lex stated. "You might be on to something, Clark. I'll have some of our historians go through the city archives."
Perhaps by going through the past, Lex thought, I can better understand the present. My father is a sworn enemy of the Wayne family. Maybe there's more to it than personal dislike.
"I've heard the Waynes began the Revolution on the British side," Chloe thought aloud.
"That's impossible," Clark shook his head, "the Waynes were in almost every major battle, right up to Yorkton."
"That wasn't always the case," Lex stated tersely. "The Wayne family had been loyal to the Crown since the days of Elizabeth I. They had to make a choice when war broke out in the colonies. At the start, the choice was life and liberty, or King and country." He sat on a nearby leather bench. Clark, Chloe, Lana and Pete gathered around, as Lex explained how the Luthors and Waynes began their legendary stories on opposite sides of the War of Independence ...
[1775, Concord]
The horse galloped through the streets just before dawn. "The British are coming! The British are coming!" Edward Wayne woke up. He had ordered his brothers and sisters to stay indoors. Their parents had died the previous winter of scurvy. Edward, the eldest son, was duty-bound to keep their family together. Safe. Most of their neighbours sided with the Patriot rebels.
I am a Loyalist, Edward told himself. These vagabonds want to rule the colonies as if they were kings. His family was also alienated by faith. The fiercely Protestant town residents shunned and ridiculed the Waynes, one of the few Catholic families in Concord.
Frantic knocking rang throughout the house. Edward pulled back the flinklock of his musket.
"Friend or foe!" Edward demanded.
"Friend, dammit! It's Jack Cartwright!" Edward lifted the bar lock and let his friend in. Jack was a strict Puritan, but was one of the few townsfolk who had befriended the Waynes.
"I have good news. I've heard that General Gage is sending some British soldiers to put down this rebellion. It'll be all over by suppertime. I've gathered a few of the Loyalist men together. We're going to ambush the rebels so-called 'colonial' militia. Join us!"
Edward paused. He had nine brothers and sisters to protect. "I will give you what spare ammunition I have. But I must remain here, should the rebels pass this way."
Jack nodded as he packed the spare musket balls into his pockets. "Take care, Edward. This'll be over soon."
Edward sat in front of the window. They came at dawn.
General Gage's troops marched in line. Pipers followed with the Union Jack and regimental colours. They were here to arrest the colonial militia's leaders and confiscate any arms stockpiled by the rebels.
A British officer in a black-skinned hat pounded on his door. "Are you a Loyalist house?"
Edward waved. "Yes, we are. George III, by God's grace, is our lord and master. I must remain here to defend my house."
The British officer nodded and waved his troops forward. In the distance, a volley of musket shots echoed through the trees. I wonder how Jack is doing, Edward wondered.
A stray musket ball cracked through the window. The battle is coming closer, Edward feared.
He poured gunpowder into his musket, and primed it. Pray for us, blessed mother, he mumbled.
"What's going on?" Sara, the eldest of the Wayne daughters, peered from the kitchen.
"Stay inside!" Edward barked. "The battle draws near." He lifted the wooden bar lock and shouldered his musket.
British redcoats were fleeing. Shots continued from the rear. A pair of redcoats knelt to return fire. One managed to flee. The other tried to join him, but an accurate volley toppled him onto the dirt road.
Edward ran to the dying soldier. "What's going on?"
The soldier coughed a mouthful of blood. "Colonials ... ambush ... caught us in the trees ... lost 200 ..." The shots came closer. He tried to pass his musket to Wayne. "You fight them ... fight them!" A slight gurgle, and the soldier passed into eternity.
Edward, with blood rushing to his head, pushed the bullet down with the ramrod, knelt and aimed his musket at the first of the advancing colonials. The bullet landed between the enemy's eyes.
He poured another pouch of gunpowder in the musket. Faster, Edward. Faster! Another shove of the ramrod and he aimed again.
He heard a shriek. Sara! He turned towards his house. Colonial minutemen were torching his roof.
"No!" Edward ran to stop them, but one of the minutemen swung a musket butt against his head. The militia had rounded up his family, separating the boys from their older sisters.
Edward scowled. "Traitors! You owe your allegiance to your King!"
The minutemen laughed. "We are free men now. No lord, no king has the right to restrict our God-given liberties." Their lieutenant directed them to line up the boys against the fence. "We cannot allow these boys to grow up. In a few years, they'll be old enough to join those redcoats. Ready ... aim ..."
"Please," Edward sobbed. "Spare the boys. Kill me if you must. Let them live."
A group of minutemen dragged Sara and her two sisters out onto the road. "What shall we do with these papist wenches?"
The lieutenant roared in laughter. "They, too, are the enemy. Treat them like the English whores they are. Ravish them to death."
"No!" Edward rushed towards the rowdy militia. A pistol shot silenced them.
Another officer stepped forward. "Civilians, loyalist or otherwise, are not to be harassed. If we are to win this war, we need the people's support!"
He took off a glove and smacked the lieutenant's face. "You would dishonour these women, while in the same breath, proclaim the right to liberty!" He instructed the militia to release Wayne's family.
Edward crumpled on the ground. "Thank you. Thank you, kind sir."
The officer helped him up. "Captain Elijah Luthor, Continental Army. Please accept my apologies. Many of these militia are little more than uneducated farmhands. I respect your loyalty to the British, flawed though it may be. But this town is now under the authority of the Continental Army. Gather your possessions and leave by dusk. I grant you safe passage until then. Remain, and the sin of what comes to pass lies on your head."
Edward gathered his family and whatever belongings could be saved. He stopped the wagon and took one last glance at Concord. My home. Our family has lived here for over 100 years. He seethed in rage as the cursed stars- and-stripes banner of the Patriots flapped atop the town hall.
He could tell which houses were Loyalist. They were put to the torch.
Sara huddled amongst her siblings in the rear. "What will become of us, Edward?" Sara cried.
"We go to New York. It's still in British hands," Edward replied.
Further down the road, he spotted Jack Cartwright. Tarred and feathered, he hung from the branch of a large oak tree. A crude sign 'Loyalist pig' hung around his neck.
At that moment, Edward knew that he would not hide. Once the family has been sent to a safe, British colony, I shall remain here in America. To fight for my king.
If it is indeed the Almighty's will, I shall kill Yankees along the way.