1882: Custer in Chains - eARC

by Robert Conroy

  “We must hide everything, just like we used to do,” the priest finally said. “And that includes our women.”

  There was no disagreement. Rosita herself had been raped a few years ago by a Spaniard. She had endured. That’s what women were supposed to do. At least that’s what another priest had told her.

  As would any mother, she feared for her son. This night she would sneak into his room while he was sleeping and pray over him. If he caught her, he would be embarrassed. Then she would pray that the war didn’t come. But she knew it would.

  Chapter 5

  Acting Major Jack Barnes smiled and dramatically swept his arm over the crowded harbor. They were on the ramparts of historic but obsolete Fort McHenry. Below them was a horde of ships of all shapes and sizes. He pointed at three in particular. “There, colonel, are the three ships that are going to take the regiment to Cuba.”

  Ryder shook his head sadly. “Please don’t tell me their names are the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria.

  Barnes laughed nervously. “They’re old, sir, but not that old.”

  Ryder reluctantly agreed. The ships assigned to the First Maryland looked like old tubs with rust and dirt streaks on their hulls. But he’d been assured that they were seaworthy and had steam engines, although two of them were paddlewheelers. They’d been chartered by the navy and he presumed that the navy knew what it was doing. Each ship would carry one battalion of infantry along with as much supplies as could be stuffed in her hold. After the men were loaded, food and ammunition were the highest priority. No, he corrected himself, the only priority. And water, he added.

  The waters around Fort McHenry were filled with steamships of all sizes. Barnes said he’d actually counted over two hundred before giving up. He added that additional ships continued to arrive. U.S. Navy warships were further down towards the mouth of the Chesapeake and would escort the ragtag armada to Cuba when the time came. These consisted of the recently re-named cruiser Atlanta and a number of armed sloops and converted merchantmen. The Atlanta had been the HMS Shannon. It was felt that her 10 inch guns were powerful enough to handle anything the Spanish had, including her two battleships. Ryder again hoped that the navy knew what it was doing.

  “Major, I have a sneaking suspicion that there is going to be a real circus when the order is given to embark. Therefore, I want an armed platoon on each of our ships to protect them from being stolen out from under us.”

  “Do you think that’s really necessary?”

  “Yes I do. You’ve seen some of these units. I was recently told that to call them mobs would be to insult a true mob, yet they all want to be in the first convoy and get all the glory. Since there aren’t enough ships to take everyone, it’s possible that some of these so-called warriors will try to steal our transports. Look, we’ve been training hard and it shows. However, some of our sister regiments have been acting like this is a picnic with rifles.”

  Barnes laughed. “You’re right. I’ll have men on each ship and they’ll be armed and ordered to use force to repel boarders. By the way, colonel, what have you heard from Haney?”

  “Nothing and I don’t expect to, at least not for a while. If he can, he is going to meet us off Florida. If not, we’ll wait until we land at Matanzas. Right now he’s probably running around Cuba with a pack of rebels and having a wonderful time killing Spaniards.”

  * * *

  For Kendrick it had been one of the most awkward dinners in memory. Gilberto Salazar had tried being a gracious host, but had showed up drunk for the meal and continued to drink throughout it. His wife, a stern and plain woman named Juana had been there as well and had glared daggers at her husband. That there was no love lost between them was an easy conclusion.

  To make matters even more awkward, Salazar had brought a German woman named Helga to sit beside him, and she was clearly his mistress. Helga was blond, plump, and looked vacantly around the room. It was clear that she’d been drinking as well and, with each deep breath she took, her ample breasts threatened to spill out of her dress. That Juana wanted to kill both of them was evident. Kendrick found himself feeling sorry for the slighted woman. Salazar’s wife was thin, had a hook nose, and wore her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. She was dressed in black like a caricature of a nun and said almost nothing throughout the meal.

  Just as the dinner was grinding to an end, a messenger came with information that enraged Salazar. He crumpled the note and threw it across the room before announcing that rebels had attacked a patrol and killed several of his men. He would have to leave immediately. He lurched to his feet and ordered his horse saddled and a troop of cavalry to accompany him. Kendrick had no idea what use Salazar’s presence would be since, by his own admission, the rebels would be far, far away from the site of the killings by the time he got there. Kendrick was delighted that he was not invited to accompany him.

  Just before departing, Salazar turned on his wife. “I brought you to this meal to meet the American,” he snarled. “I thought you would at least be civil.”

  Juana was not intimidated. “How can I be civil in the presence of your whore? Why do you insist on flaunting the simple creature? Why don’t you just leave her in bed where she belongs?”

  Salazar grabbed Juana’s arm and pulled her to her feet. She showed no emotion while Helga commenced to blubber. “See what I have to put up with, Kendrick? My own wife, a woman who should be submissive, shows no respect for me. Do you like women, Kendrick?”

  “Of course,” he answered softly, wondering what the hell kind of trouble any answer would result in.

  “Excellent,” Salazar said as he roughly pushed Juana back into her chair. “Tonight she will come to your room and you have my permission to fuck her. No, I insist that you fuck her.”

  With that astonishing pronouncement, Salazar left. Kendrick figured that Salazar would be gone the better part of a week. With his angry departure, the diners abruptly left for their respective rooms.

  As was customary in Cuba, they had eaten late and Kendrick had not gotten to his suite until midnight. He stripped to his cotton underclothing, sat on the bed, and lit a thin cigar. He normally enjoyed a good Cuban smoke, but not this evening. He was too tense to fall asleep so there was no danger of fire from smoking in bed.

  He heard a noise and watched as the doorknob turned and the door opened. To his astonishment, Juana entered. She was wearing a long nightgown and carried what looked like a robe over her right arm.

  She stood a few feet in front of him and dropped the robe from over her arm. She had a derringer in her hand.

  “My husband commanded me to come here and submit to you. If I don’t, he will beat me. The servants have seen me enter your room and will believe that you and I will have done what he wished.”

  This is incredible, Kendrick thought. “You don’t have to worry about me, Juana. I would never hurt you or take you against your will.”

  She blinked and nodded. “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t. Gilberto has been cruel and brutal, but he’s never done anything like this before. I think he has been slipping further into madness each day. Regardless, if you try to force me, I will kill you.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “And why not?”

  He noticed that her hand was shaking. “You didn’t cock the pistol.”

  She looked bewildered. “What?”

  “With that model, you have to cock the hammer to make it fire. Are you even certain it’s loaded?”

  Her jaw dropped. He reached over and took the derringer from her unprotesting hand. She hadn’t cocked it, but it was loaded. He removed the bullet and handed the pistol back to her.

  “If you’d like, you may hit me over the head with it. However, you will have no reason to.”

  Juana smiled wanly and sat down in a chair across the room. “In truth, I was never too worried. Some of Gilberto’s friends are as monstrous as he, but you did not strike me as one of them. Now, however, I must stay here long enough for
the two women who spy for him to be satisfied that we have consummated his command. Someday I think I will delight in having those two shrews whipped within an inch of their lives, but that would mean I would sink to his level.”

  “Would he really beat you?”

  Juana shrugged. “He has in the past. Nothing serious, just a few slaps and punches to places where the bruises won’t show. He’s a very cruel person who has had people who offended him whipped and mutilated, especially the peasants. Some he’s even had killed. He will do nothing like that to me. My uncle is a bishop here in Havana and Gilberto fears for his immortal soul in his own strange way.”

  Kendrick knew many men who beat their wives. It was quite common, although, as a bachelor, he didn’t know how to judge someone who did. He was no saint, but he had never struck a woman and couldn’t imagine circumstances where he would. Self-defense, of course, was another matter and a woman with a pistol was a clear threat. He was glad that Juana was so inept with guns.

  “How can I help you, Juana?”

  She smiled again and this time it was with a measure of warmth. “Since we are going to be together for a while, you might get me one of those cigarillos.”

  * * *

  President Custer read the latest intelligence estimates and was appalled. “Are you telling me that as of only a few years ago, the Spanish had a quarter of a million soldiers in Cuba? Dear God, I didn’t think they had a fifth of that.”

  Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln was equally dismayed. “This information only came to light recently. The large numbers of Spanish soldiers was as a result of their long war against Cuban insurgents. We have no idea how many of them remain. We do know, however, that significant reinforcements have landed and that others are en route.”

  Lieutenant General Phil Sheridan shifted his bulk in a chair that was far too small for him. “These are only numbers, General Custer. What they don’t say is how well trained, equipped, or led the Spanish army is. It is also very likely that many of their soldiers are Cuban militia of dubious quality.”

  “There are still far too many of them. Dear God, what have I gotten us into?”

  “This is the war you wanted,” Sheridan said, stifling a laugh. “However, there is some good news. Many of the Spanish troops are not in the Havana area. We estimate there are about fifty thousand in and around Santiago, with other sizeable garrisons protecting other cities from the rebels. That and the sheer size of Cuba means that the Spanish will not be able to easily reinforce Havana, although they will doubtless try once we land and commit ourselves. We will always be outnumbered, but we should be able to outfight them, even though they will be based in a heavily fortified city.”

  Custer wiped his brow. He was sweating profusely. “What will the Spanish do when we land?”

  Lincoln was about to respond, but Sheridan beat him to it. “General Valeriano Weyler commands the troops around Havana. He is a young, fiery, aggressive and cruel commander. He will attack as soon as he can and will attempt to drive us into the sea around Matanzas. He will not permit his army to become a punching bag for us to wear down and destroy.”

  Custer stood and paced his office. “When will we attack?”

  “It’s somewhat up to the navy, but their plans say there will be no more than two weeks before embarking. It will also take a good week to steam to Matanzas. Then figure another week to disembark the troops, unload supplies, and get organized.”

  “That’s too long,” Custer said in a whisper.

  “We could call it off,” Lincoln said hopefully, “and give negotiations another chance.”

  “No, damn it! We’d look like bloody fools. We have to fight them and beat them. We must have this war and we must take Cuba. Just like Blaine says, our country’s future as a great power depends on it. We can’t just back off and let a third-rate piss-ant country like Spain humiliate us. I don’t like what I’ve just heard, but I have to accept the reality of the situation.”

  “It doesn’t matter how the Spanish split their forces, our boys will still be outnumbered many times over,” said Sheridan. “We haven’t been able to enlist anywhere near the number of men we thought we’d need. You could be looking at a blood bath if things don’t work out.”

  “All the more reason I should be in command,” Custer snapped. “It’s going to take a brave and resourceful commander to lead the army to victory and I’m not certain Nelson Miles is that man.”

  Sheridan laughed. “Then replace him with Hancock, but you cannot leave this country and remain president.”

  Custer bristled. “Winfield Scott Hancock can go straight to fucking hell. He will never command a thing while I am president.”

  Custer rose and stormed out of the room. He went directly up to his personal quarters to find that Libbie had beaten him there. She had been in an adjacent room and been listening to every word through a speaking tube held against the wall.

  “Libbie, they want to destroy me,” he said as he pounded his fist on a dresser.

  “Of course they do,” she said calmly. “Jealousy from insignificant others is the fate of all great men.” She sat down on a couch and he sat beside her. She smiled and pulled his head down to her lap where he could rest against her bosom.

  “You will win, George. You will prevail against both Spain and the small minds who conspire against you. They can never stop us.”

  * * *

  Two nights later, Kendrick and Juana had a glass of brandy and another cigarillo in his room. As before, she was dressed in a nightgown while he had discretely put a robe over his underclothing. This time their meeting was far more cordial—she did not bring a pistol. It was a point they both found amusing. Salazar was still looking for rebels and would be gone for at least a week longer.

  “What are you going to write about my husband?”

  “The truth. I’m a reporter and I like to do that as often as possible.”

  “Will you say that he is a monstrous maniac?”

  “If that’s the truth, yes, and I am investigating that possibility. My readers in America are fascinated by the type of person who would massacre the innocent men on the Eldorado, and feel no qualms.” When she started to respond, he hushed her with a wave of his hand. “I know that Spain considers them to have been criminals and pirates, but they deserved a trial. Perhaps some or all could have been sentenced to jail and not executed. That would have been justice in accordance with established law. What your husband did was nothing short of murder. As a result of your husband’s actions, we now have a war between our two countries and people wonder why he did what he did.”

  She took a deep drag of her cigarillo. “I could tell you but you would never print it.”

  “Try me.”

  “All right,” she said with a sigh. “Gilberto Salazar is not a truly brave man. He is inadequate and a coward with women and a man who hides those inadequacies with brutal acts. He’s never been in a real battle, only skirmishes with runaway slaves. He fears that he will fail in front of others in the event of a real fight. On a different level, he has never consummated our marriage, although he did try at first. For some reason, he’s afraid of me, perhaps he’s unable to perform with all women.”

  Kendrick was shocked by her blunt admission. “Jesus. You’re right, though. I have no idea how my publishers would ever print this. Juana, are you telling me you’re still a virgin after being married to him for how long?”

  “Ten years, and my so-called virginity is highly debatable. He did try for the first few months, but it turned out that his sword is small, blunt, and not made of good metal.”

  Kendrick didn’t even try to stifle a grin, “But what about Helga?”

  “Oh, I’m sure she satisfies him, but not in a way that I ever would with him. Besides, she’s more of an ornament than a true mistress. Now do you see why I am so bitter? I’ve wasted my youth on that fool just like he’s wasting his time trying to save Spain’s presence in a land that doesn’t want her. I cut my h
air short because he likes it long and I keep myself thin because he wants his women more robust. It pleases me to anger him and everything he stands for.”

  “Are you saying that you are a rebel?”

  Juana smiled and this time it lit up her thin face. “Yes, and I’m proud of it. Since it’s widely assumed that you are a spy as well as a reporter, I propose to show you everything I can about Spain’s strengths and weaknesses around Havana. To help accomplish that, I propose we go riding around in Gilberto’s carriage and let you see everything.”

  “That would be marvelous for several reasons, so, yes, I accept your kind offer.”

  “Good. And I hope you have plans to leave this place before the war actually starts.”

  “When I decided to come here, I believe I had two choices. One was to stay and write a journal about the war and publish it later. The second was to get out of here as soon as it became dangerous. I’m no coward, but I do think leaving discretely is the best option and, yes, I do have plans to do so.”

  “Excellent.”

  “But what will happen to you, Juana.”

  She rose and walked to the doorway. “I can protect myself, although the next time I need to I’ll have the pistol cocked.”

  * * *

  “Morituri te salutant,” whispered Sarah as they joined the gaily dressed throng swarming into the White House.

  “I am not a gladiator and this is not Rome,” Ryder said with a smile. However, if you like I will go up to General Custer and tell him that we who are about to die salute you.”

  She playfully tapped him on the arm with her fan. “I keep forgetting you’re partly civilized.

  The invitation to the White House had come as a surprise. The Custers had decided to invite just about anybody in congress and the government and all military personnel of significant rank to attend what was a grand going away party. As commander of a regiment Ryder qualified on the low end of the list of important people. He mentioned to Sarah that he thought it might be similar to the ball held by the British before they marched out to fight Napoleon at Waterloo. At least that battle ended well for the Brits, he thought. How would this coming campaign fare for the United States?