by Al Lacy
“Will you be able to come home for the summer?” Lydia asked.
“Partly. There’ll be six weeks of practical training in June and half of July, but I’ll also be able to come home for two weeks at Christmastime.”
Lydia smiled. “Then I will live for the times you can be home during your years at West Point. I’m proud that you want to be a soldier and serve your country.”
Grant took her hand, leaned close, and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Lydia.”
“And I love you, Grant,” she whispered. “With all my heart.”
The courtship continued, and as time passed the young couple found their love for each other growing deeper and stronger.
With his father’s help, Grant submitted to one of their congressmen his petition to enter West Point in September. A letter came back with forms to fill out. Grant completed the forms and sent them back to the congressman, along with a copy of his grades through the years.
Grant graduated from high school the last week of May and was hired again by the farmer he had worked for the previous summer. Four days after graduating, the notice came that he had been accepted at the U.S. Military Academy in West Point, New York. Marjorie shed some tears as she realized her boy would no longer be living in their home come September.
That evening, Grant and Lydia sat on her front porch, enjoying the moonlight. Crickets were making their night sounds, and the sweet aroma of honeysuckle filled the air. They talked about their day, then Grant said, “Lydia, something came in the mail today.” He reached into his shirt pocket as he spoke.
“Oh, I know what it is! You’ve been accepted at the academy!”
“You guessed it,” he said, handing her the folded envelope. She took the paper out, angled it toward the moonlight, and read the acceptance letter. As she placed it back in the envelope, her lower lip quivered. “I’ll miss you, Grant, but I’m so proud of you.”
Grant embraced her, kissed her cheek, and said, “I’ll miss you, too, sweetheart. You will wait for me, won’t you?”
Lydia drew back, looked up into his eyes, and said, “You do know the answer to that question, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I just want to hear you say it.”
Moonlight reflected in Lydia’s emerald eyes. “All right. Mr. Grant Swanson Smith, I, Lydia Jane Reynolds, solemnly promise that I will wait for you during the four years you are getting your military education.”
Grant sighed. “Music to my ears. Now, that brings up another subject. Something else I have to ask you.”
“All right.”
“Since my chosen career is with the United States Army, would you have any problem being an army wife?”
“Grant, if we marry, I’d be happy no matter what because I’d be married to you. Since the army is your chosen profession, then my profession will be as an army officer’s wife. I’ll back you all the way.”
He embraced her again and said, “I know we’re too young for a formal engagement, but here and now I am asking you to marry me soon after I graduate from West Point in the spring of 1846.”
Lydia pulled back once more to look into his eyes. “The answer is yes, my darling Grant,” she said through brimming tears. “Eighteen forty-six sounds like a long time from now, but it will be worth the wait. I’m so happy and honored that you want me for your life mate.”
On the first Saturday in June, Beverly Reynolds invited the Smiths over for a meal. At the table, in front of the young couple, the parents discussed Grant and Lydia’s promise to wait for each other and marry after Grant graduated from West Point. Both sets of parents said they would be very happy if it worked out.
“Grant … Lydia,” Beverly said, “you are both very young, and things might change between you in the next four years. Your young love is a tender flame. Time will prove if it is the genuine, lasting kind upon which to build a marriage.”
“Beverly is right,” Marjorie said. “Many things can happen in four years. If the love you have between you is the real thing, it will prove out.”
Grant looked around the table at each parent, then settled his gaze on Beverly. “I understand what you’ve said, Mrs. Reynolds. Lydia and I are very young. But may I say what is on my heart?”
“Of course, dear.”
“You’ve put it in a beautiful way, Mrs. Reynolds … our love being a tender flame. In my heart, I know the tender flame between Lydia and me is genuine. It will grow stronger as time passes, even though we’ll be apart while I am at West Point.”
“I agree with Grant,” Lydia said. “Yes, we’re young, and life can bring along things we never planned on. But when it comes to my love for Grant, I know it’s the genuine thing. I have no doubt at all that the Lord has chosen us for each other, and that He has given us the true, lasting kind of love.”
On Monday, September 5, Grant went to Baltimore to board the train for New York. Both fathers had taken off work to be there, though Sharon, Theresa, and Billy had to tell Grant good-bye that morning before leaving for school.
As departure time drew near, Scott and Marjorie hugged their son with tears in their eyes. Grant tried to cheer them by saying he would be home a few days before Christmas. Marjorie kissed his cheek, and they stepped back to allow Duane and Beverly to talk to Grant.
When the Reynoldses were finished, Duane said, “Us old folks will vacate the premises so you young folks can say your good-byes.”
Lydia smiled at her father. “Thank you, Daddy. I’m staying till the train pulls out, if that’s all right.”
“Sure, honey. We’ll meet you out front.”
As Duane turned to walk away, Grant said, “Mr. Reynolds …”
“Yes, Grant?”
“Sir, begging your understanding, since Lydia and I are promised to each other, and since we’ll be apart for nearly four months … would it be all right if—”
“Sure, son. It’s all right.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Both sets of parents walked away quickly, not looking back to watch the young couple share a sweet, tender kiss on the lips.
ON SATURDAY, AUGUST 30, 1845, Duane Reynolds was working in his backyard late in the afternoon when he heard Beverly call from the porch, “Duane, there’s somebody here who wants to talk to you!”
“Who is it?”
“Grant. He’s in the parlor.”
“Just send him out here, will you, honey? I’ll talk to him in the yard.”
Moments later, the West Point cadet stepped off the porch. “Working hard, sir?”
“Naw. Just making Beverly think I am so she won’t come up with some chore I don’t like.”
“Well, I won’t take up a lot of your simulation time, sir.”
Duane laughed. “Okay. Let’s see, you’re heading back to West Point for your senior year on Monday, aren’t you?”
“Right, sir. And … well, I want to ask you a question.”
“Sure. Let’s come over here and sit in the shade.” They moved to some wooden lawn chairs beneath a pair of elm trees. “Okay, my boy, what’s the question?”
“Mr. Reynolds, you know that I love your daughter and have intentions of marrying her once I’m out of school.”
“I’m quite aware of that, yes.”
“Well, sir … I … uh—” He cleared his throat. “I would like your permission to give Lydia an engagement ring.”
Duane grinned. “This is no surprise, Grant. And let me say that I am superbly proud and happy that the Lord has given my daughter such a fine Christian young man.” He drew a deep breath. “Yes, Grant. You have my permission to become officially engaged to Lydia, and to put a ring on her finger.”
“Thank you, sir! I promise I’ll be a good husband to her. I will love and cherish her with all my heart. And if God blesses us with children—your grandchildren—I promise you, they’ll be raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”
“I have no doubt about that, son,” said Duane, tears welling up in his eyes. “She’s a prec
ious girl, Grant. Always make her happy.”
“I’ll do my utmost, sir.”
“And Grant, thank you for asking me before you made your engagement official.”
“I wouldn’t do it any other way, sir.”
“That’s one reason Beverly and I love you so much, son.”
“Thank you, sir. Well, I’d better be going. I have a dinner date with Lydia tonight, and I’ve got several things to do between now and then.”
Both men rose from their chairs.
“Grant …”
“Yes, sir?”
“What’s it look like?”
“Sir?”
“The engagement ring. You’ve already purchased it, haven’t you?”
Grant nodded, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Yes, sir.”
“You wouldn’t have put that ring on her finger if I had objected, would you?”
“Oh, no, sir.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?”
“Shouldn’t I have been?”
Duane smiled without comment.
“See you later, sir.” Grant turned away, then stopped and rubbed his chin. “Ah … Mr. Reynolds?”
“Yes?”
“When I put the ring on Lydia’s finger, it’s going to be a very special moment. Would it be all right if—”
“Of course. An engagement certainly should be sealed with a kiss.”
“Thank you, sir.”
That evening Grant took Lydia to nearby Germantown for dinner. When they returned to Montgomery Village, he drove his father’s buggy around the town square where kerosene lanterns lit the evening darkness. He noticed an empty bench and said, “Okay if we stop and sit a spell?”
“Of course,” Lydia said.
Grant stepped out of the buggy and rubbed the horse’s muzzle as he went around to the other side. Extending his hand to Lydia, he said, “May I have the honor of helping you down, miss?”
“It’s my pleasure to have such a gallant gentleman help me down.”
Grant ushered Lydia to the bench. Seating her first, he then sat down beside her and said, “You look lovely tonight, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, but you already told me that three times.”
“You’ll probably hear it again before you’re rid of me tonight.” Grant took both of her hands in his. “Lydia, since I first fell in love with you, that love has grown. I love you now more than ever.”
“It’s been the same for me.”
“I’m so thankful for that. Now, I want you to do something for me.”
“Of course.”
“Close your eyes.”
She gave him a quizzical look, then obeyed. When her eyes were closed, Grant let go of her right hand and took the engagement ring from his shirt pocket.
“The next time I do this, it will be when I say, ‘With this ring I thee wed.’ ” As he spoke, he slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand. “You can open your eyes now.”
Lydia’s gaze fell on the tiny diamond that glistened in the combination of moonlight and lantern light. She lifted her eyes to look at Grant’s face, then raised her hand and kissed the ring. “Darling, I promise I will always love you and be faithful to you.”
Grant held her close for a long moment. When they eased apart, she looked at the ring, then threw her arms around his neck and said, “It’s so beautiful!”
“I love you so very much.”
“And I love you so very much.”
“I was at your house today,” Grant said. “Your mother told me you were shopping in Gaithersburg with Betty Palmer.”
“Yes. Mother said you’d been there to talk to Daddy. Neither one would tell me what it was about.”
“Well, now you know. And as you can see, he said I could.”
“Daddy loves you, Grant.”
“Your father said I could do something else when I gave you the ring.”
“And what was that?”
“He said an engagement should be sealed with a kiss.”
“Who am I to disagree with Daddy?”
Their lingering kiss was sweet and tender.
As they held each other close, Grant said, “Remember when your mother called the love between us a tender flame?”
“I do.”
“She said that time would prove if it was the genuine, lasting kind to build a marriage on. That was three years ago. Three years that we’ve been apart most of the time. Yet here we are, more in love than ever.”
“Yes, more than ever.”
Grant kept his arm around Lydia as they sat contentedly without speaking. Then he said, “I wish this moment could last forever, sweetheart, but it’s time to take you home.”
She looked up at him. “I’ll be glad when taking me home will mean our home.”
Ten minutes later, the buggy came to a halt in front of the Reynolds house. Grant helped Lydia out of the buggy and they walked up the porch steps side by side. The lone lantern burned beside the door.
Lydia placed her hand so the flame would find its reflection in the diamond and said, “Oh, Grant, I’m so happy!”
“Before you go in …”
“Yes?”
“Your father said that since we are engaged, it would be all right if I kissed you good night. You know, other than on the cheek.”
Lydia giggled. “Well, like I said, who am I to disagree with Daddy?”
On Monday morning, the newly engaged couple stood on the platform by the New York-bound train. Scott and Marjorie had already told their son good-bye and were standing some distance away. After a few sweet kisses, Grant boarded the train. Lydia stood on the platform, not moving from the spot until the train had passed from view.
On November 28, the entire student body of cadets at West Point was told to gather in the chapel at ten o’clock that morning for a special assembly. As they gathered, the students speculated what the assembly was about. None of the professors had given out any information when announcing to their classes that the meeting had been called.
Grant Smith was sitting with two of his friends, Keith Killen and Cordell Anderson, when General Forrest Wexford, the academy’s president, appeared from a side room and walked across the platform. On his heels was U.S. Army General Zachary Taylor, who was recognized by nearly all of the student body.
Military men, whether students or regular army, had seen Taylor’s face in newspapers and old army bulletins. He had joined the army in 1808, and as a major in the 1832 Black Hawk War, had earned the nickname “Old Rough and Ready.” The name had become even more popular when, as a colonel, he led campaigns against the Seminole Indians in Florida during the fierce battles of 1835–1842, after which the Seminoles moved to Indian territory east of Texas and became one of the Five Civilized Tribes.
General Wexford called the meeting to order, then said, “Gentlemen, all of you are aware that last March, President Polk announced the intention of the United States to annex the Republic of Texas as our twenty-eighth state. You are also aware that upon that announcement, the government of Mexico denounced our president for such a plan and has severed relations with our country over it.
“Texas won its freedom from Mexico almost ten years ago. Their battle for independence began at the Battle of the Alamo in March 1836 and ended when General Sam Houston defeated the Mexican army at San Jacinto the very next month. I stood before you last March and informed you of the Mexican problem over President Polk’s plan to annex Texas. The problem is growing worse, and I think as military men, you need to know what has developed. I learned that my friend, General Zachary Taylor—Old Rough and Ready himself—was nearby, so I collared him and asked him to come and speak to you on the matter.”
There was laughter followed by applause.
General Wexford turned to the stately gentleman seated behind him on the platform and called him to the podium as those assembled gave a standing ovation.
The young cadets listened intently as General Taylor told them that ju
st two months before, President Polk had sent American diplomat John Slidell on a secret mission to Mexico to attempt a peaceful settlement of the dispute over the planned annexation of Texas as a U.S. state. The Mexican government had refused to receive him. When Slidell returned to Washington and made his report to President Polk, the president called General Taylor to the White House and told him to make preparations in case of war with Mexico. He feared the Mexican government, still angry over their defeat at San Jacinto, might become an aggressor.
The faculty and students of West Point were stunned to hear such news.
General Taylor advised them to wait for more information from Washington.
On December 13, Lydia was at the Baltimore railroad station, along with both sets of parents, when Grant arrived from New York.
As Duane Reynolds drove the buggy toward Montgomery Village, the conversation soon turned to the Mexican problem. The Smiths and the Reynoldses were interested to learn if Grant had any news, since the newspapers had not mentioned it for a few days.
“We received news just before classes dismissed for the holidays,” Grant said. “Things have grown hot between the U.S. and Mexico. The Mexican government declares the Nueces the boundary between Texas and Mexico, which would give them the entire southern tip of the land the Texans claim. President Polk agrees with the Texans that the Rio Grande is the proper boundary.”
“Looks like we could have us a war with Mexico,” Duane said.
“It’s very possible, sir.”
Though December was a cold month in Maryland and there was snow on the ground, Grant and Lydia took walks in the evenings to the town square in Montgomery Village and strolled through the adjacent park.
A few days after Grant’s return, the Smiths had the Reynolds family to their home for supper. Sixteen-year-old Billy discussed military matters with Grant during the early part of the meal and then asked his opinion of the Mexican crisis, which Billy’s history teacher talked about each day.
Grant told him that with the Mexican government so angry at the United States, and now with General Antonio López de Santa Anna once again president of Mexico, he feared there would be war. It was Santa Anna who had led the Mexican army when it attacked the Alamo and when it was defeated at San Jacinto.
