The Way of All Soldiers (Gone For Soldiers)

by Jeffry S. Hepple

  Thomas sat down. “That’s a long story.”

  “I have nowhere else to go.”

  Thomas sighed. “Your Aunt Anna has made a powerful enemy in Varina Davis. As you probably know, her husband, Jefferson Davis, is the temporary President of the Confederate States of America and he’s running unopposed in the upcoming election.”

  “Don’t tell me the Confederacy refused your regiment.”

  “They accepted the companies, but not the regiment. The companies I brought with me will be folded into four or five Texas regiments that are already formed or soon to be formed.”

  “And they offered you nothing?” Johnny asked incredulously.

  “They offered to let me stand for election as company commander in any company that I chose. That didn’t seem fair to the existing company commanders, so I declined.”

  “They offered you a captaincy?” Johnny exclaimed. “That’s horseshit.”

  Thomas shrugged. “It’s not over yet. I still have a lot of friends from West Point here.”

  “What if company grade is the best offer? Will you accept?”

  Thomas shook his head. “No, I’m too old. The men wouldn’t respect me.” He grinned. “And I’d hate to be outranked by my youngest son. Congratulations, Major.”

  “Thank you, Dad.”

  “I’d like to meet your wife,” Thomas said. “What time does she usually visit?”

  “She doesn’t. Her father’s hoping I’ll die from my wounds.”

  “Not really.”

  “Really. He was planning to marry her to some rich planter’s son in an elaborate wedding that would be the talk of the South, but I eloped with her and spoiled his plans.”

  “Why didn’t you court her properly? Our family can stand up to any of these phony Southern aristocrats.”

  “Passion got the best of us,” Johnny replied. His expression said that he didn’t wish to discuss it further.

  Thomas got the message. “I understand.” He looked around the ward, then back at Johnny. “I guess you heard the bad news that Quincy is in New York with Anna, recovering from a serious head wound.”

  “No.” Johnny smiled. “That’s actually very good news. The last I heard he was missing in action and presumed dead.”

  “Anna and Nancy went out onto the battlefield and found him, or he would probably be dead.”

  “They did?” Johnny almost whooped. “They’re a pair of pistols, aren’t they?”

  Thomas nodded. “Anna gets more like my mother every day. Nancy’s always been fearless and a little crazy. Even as a girl.” He smiled. “Especially as a girl.”

  “Anything from Uncle Jack or Grandmother?”

  Thomas’s smile faded. “The news I got from Richmond was second hand and very bad. It seems that Mother’s ranch was the site of a battle between Union and Confederate forces and her house was destroyed by artillery fire, killing everyone inside. The Union commander, Colonel Lynde, claims that the Confederate commander knew that they were in the house when he called in the artillery. The Confederate commander, Colonel Baylor, admits the house was leveled to deny it to enemy forces, but he swears it was empty. Since Jack, Mother, Clementine and the servants are all missing, it sounds like Lynde’s version is true.”

  “Jesus. Is there any way to find out for sure?”

  “I don’t know of one. Baylor’s claimed the area as The Confederate Arizona Territory, appointed himself Military Governor and put it under martial law.”

  “What’s his name? Bayer?”

  “No. Baylor. Colonel John Baylor.”

  “Don’t we know him?”

  “Yes. But I’m not inclined to ask any favors from him.” He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved several pieces of folded paper, then handed one to Johnny. “Colonel Lynde sent that to me. It’s an order that Baylor wrote to his officers.”

  Johnny handed it back. “Can you read it for me please, Father? My eyes are not so good.”

  “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  “It must be the fever.”

  “Have you mentioned it to the doctors?”

  “No. I figured I’d wait to see if it cleared up before I said anything. I don’t want it on my medical record if it’s nothing.”

  Thomas thought about that for some time, then nodded. “You’re a grown man. You should make your own decisions.” He held the paper at some distance and squinted. “For my meeting at the War Bureau I left my spectacles in my hotel room. They make me look so old.”

  “Well then let me have it back,” Johnny said.

  “No, no. I can manage. Just give me a second. Let me see if I can find the pertinent part. ‘To all officers and non-commissioned officers, subject: Indians.’ Blah, blah, blah.” He turned to the next page. “Okay here it is. ‘…Use all means to persuade the Apaches or any tribe to come in for the purpose of making peace, and when you get them together kill all the grown Indians and take the children prisoners and sell them to defray the expense of killing the adult Indians. Buy whiskey and such other goods as may be necessary for the Indians and I will order vouchers given to cover the amount expended. Leave nothing undone to ensure success, and have a sufficient number of men around to allow no Indian to escape.’”

  “Have you showed that to anyone?”

  “Yes, of course. Everyone. Including Jefferson Davis.”

  “What did Davis say?”

  “He said that he’ll undertake an investigation of Baylor immediately and relieve him if this proves to be accurate.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Not good enough. If that bastard killed my mother, my brother and my sister-in-law, as Colonel Lynde maintains, I’ll see Baylor hang, even if I have to do it myself.”

  “This war is going to create cover for a lot of criminal activity.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Nothing in particular,” Johnny said. “Just an idle thought.”

  “You don’t think I should just forget the whole thing, do you?”

  “No, Dad. I expect you to do everything you can to bring Baylor to justice. I just hope that you’ll stay within the law.”

  Thomas thought about that for some time and then nodded. “I give you my word that I’ll stay within the law.” He smiled. “No matter how it hurts.”

  August 1, 1861

  Mesilla, Confederate Arizona Territory

  Jack was shoved through the door where he sprawled on the floor. He was wearing only a pair of tattered trousers. His wrists and ankles were chained. The flesh beneath the iron manacles was bloody and raw.

  “I am Colonel John R. Baylor, the Military Governor of this territory,” a balding man with fierce eyes announced.

  Jack looked up at the man. “I remember you.”

  “I should hang you and be done with it,” Baylor said, “but you’re too well connected politically, so I’m going to be forced to release you.”

  “You murdered my family and some day you’ll pay for it,” Jack said in a menacing tone.

  “Get him out of here, Sergeant,” Baylor ordered.

  “You want me to release him, sir?” the sergeant asked incredulously. “If he tells anybody that we fired on that house without warnin’ anybody inside, he could cause us real bad trouble.”

  Baylor nodded. “I’m aware of that. Take him a day’s ride west of here, remove his chains and release him. Just make sure the spot you pick is remote and there’s no water nearby. I’ll send a reply to President Davis’s telegram tomorrow informing him that we’ve released prisoner John Van Buskirk.”

  “Yes, sir.” The sergeant smiled. “I know just the place.”

  August 2, 1861

  Washington, D.C.

  Quincy and Nancy were playing poker in the parlor as Anna stormed in and threw her hat at the empty couch. “Well it was bound to happen, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen this soon.”

  Quincy glanced at her. “You’ve been fired, again.” He pushed a coin toward Nancy. “I’ll ra
ise you a nickel.”

  “Call,” Nancy said, adding a nickel to the pot.

  “Two pairs. Eights and sixes.”

  “Full house.” Nancy replied, showing him her cards.

  “Thank you for all the sympathy.” Anna plopped onto the couch and stretched her legs out.

  “Do you really care?” Nancy asked.

  Anna sighed. “I liked being in the center of things.”

  “What caused it?” Quincy asked. “The argument about McClellan?”

  “No. Mrs. Lincoln hates me.”

  “President Lincoln fired you on her say-so?” Nancy looked shocked.

  “No. He refused to, but I resigned to take the pressure off him.”

  Quincy shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that. He’s surrounded by rivals and needs someone who believes in him.”

  “I’m not the right someone,” Anna replied. “My style is to be devil’s advocate in all discussions, and President Lincoln doesn’t need any more of that. What he really needs is someone to smooth the ruffled feathers of all those ambitious old men in his cabinet. I don’t know how he tolerates the constant bickering. In any case, the deed is done. I won’t withdraw or reconsider my resignation and make his life more difficult.” She crossed her legs and began to unbutton her shoe. “I really think there’s something wrong with that woman.”

  “I always expected it to be Edwin Stanton that pushed you out,” Nancy said. “Not Mary Lincoln.”

  “Why Stanton?” Quincy asked.

  Nancy made a cringing face. “Oops.”

  Anna gave her a bored look. “Quincy’s a big boy now.” She looked at her son. “I had an affair with Philip Key. He was murdered by Congressman Dan Sickles several years ago and Edwin Stanton was the chief defense attorney. I was called as a witness and I clashed in open court with John Graham, one of the lawyers on Stanton’s team.” She went back to unbuttoning her shoes. “Stanton won the case. Graham seriously dislikes me, but Edwin Stanton’s always been cordial and polite.”

  “Sorry,” Nancy said.

  “I already knew, Nancy,” Quincy replied. “Mother’s testimony was printed in the Richmond newspaper.”

  “I apologize if I embarrassed you,” Anna said.

  “You didn’t,” Quincy replied. “Everyone thought that Graham was – impolite and deserved what you gave him.” He grinned. “Besides, I have a reputation as being bad-tempered and good with my fists, so people tend to avoid provoking me.”

  “Pug,” Anna grumbled. “You should apologize to me for that horrible nickname.”

  “I have. Numerous times.” He picked up the cards. “I’m going to report for duty tomorrow.”

  “No you’re not,” Anna said.

  “I have to explain myself or I’ll be charged with desertion.”

  “Nonsense,” Anna said. “General Sherman knows everything and he’s put you on medical leave until next spring.”

  “Colonel Sherman,” Quincy corrected.

  Anna shook her head. “He’s been promoted to brigadier general and you’re a regimental colonel. Your orders are in my desk at the White House. I forgot them.”

  He chuckled. “A colonel? I should get shot more often.”

  “It was being rescued by your mother that got you the promotion,” Nancy teased.

  “Do you know Kate Chase, Mother?” Quincy asked.

  “Yes.” Anna looked up sharply. “Why?”

  “I just thought if I was going to be here all winter…”

  “Stay away from her,” Anna warned. “She’s got a dozen men on a string.”

  “How do you know her, Quincy?” Nancy asked.

  “I don’t,” he said. “Johnny was madly in love with her and she dumped him, so I was going to return the favor.”

  Nancy slapped him on the hand. “That’s cruel.”

  Quincy laughed. “I just wanted to meet her after hearing Johnny’s description.”

  “Of her ample bosom?” Nancy giggled.

  “I forbid it,” Anna said.

  Quincy raised an eyebrow at her. “What happened to ‘Quincy’s a big boy now’?”

  Anna hesitated. “I’ll discuss it with you when I’m not so tired.”

  “Ah.” Quincy nodded. “You had an affair with Salmon Chase too.”

  “Let’s go out to dinner,” Nancy suggested. “We’ve been cooped up in these rooms for too long.”

  “Fine,” Quincy said.

  “Fine,” Anna echoed. “Why don’t you both ignore the fact that I just said that I was tired and just took off my shoes?”

  “Why don’t you just stay here and we’ll bring you something,” Nancy suggested in a snide tone.

  “Fine.” Anna folded her arms and pouted.

  ~

  Quincy and Nancy were at a table in the Willard dining room as three young women walked in. One of them, who was obviously captivated by Quincy’s good looks, stumbled. Nancy giggled into her napkin. “I think you’re a match for Kate Chase, by the way.”

  “I’d just like to see if she lives up to Johnny’s description,” he replied.

  “I’ll introduce you, if you don’t tell your mother.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “We’re friends. In a way.” She raised her hand palm out. “Don’t ask.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “Is what they say about you true, Aunt Nancy?”

  “Probably. Was there something specific that you were curious about?”

  “I’m sorry. That was a terrible question to ask. I don’t know why I did. I retract it.”

  “There’s no need to apologize or retract your question, Quincy. I was a libertine before I married your Uncle Robert and I still have a big appetite.”

  “Still?”

  “You won’t tell him, will you?”

  He shook his head. “Please don’t tell me any more. I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to choose between you.”

  “Of course not,” she said. “And there’s really nothing to tell.”

  “That’s good.”

  She looked at her hands, then around the room and finally back at Quincy. “What about you? You seem to have girls stumbling, but I’ve never heard about any romantic attachment.”

  “I haven’t found the right girl yet.”

  “Well, Washington is the place to find one. There are more employed single women here than anywhere else in the world.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The government offices and embassies produce a staggering amount of correspondence and many young women are taking over clerical positions that have been traditionally male. I suppose too, that there’s a certain romantic attraction to the Nation’s Capital. It must seem glamorous to an Iowa farm girl.”

  “The girl of my dreams isn’t an Iowa farm girl,” he chuckled.

  “What is she?”

  “Smart, knowledgeable, sophisticated, confident…”

  “And with a bosom like Kate Chase,” Nancy giggled.

  He smiled. “If she’s at all like Johnny described, she could be the one.”

  August 3, 1861

  Confederate Arizona Territory

  Jack awakened to see four dark, long-haired young men watching him. They were dressed in beaded moccasins, leather leggings and long buckskin shirts that were cinched above the hips with ammunition belts, typical of Chiricahua Apaches. Each was leaning on a rifle. “I have nothing of value,” Jack said in Spanish.

  “We can see that,” the oldest of the four, a man of about thirty, replied in good Spanish. He was very fierce-looking with black eyes.

  Jack had seen him talking to Marina on several occasions and knew his name was Goyaalé, but Jack had never met him. The other three were teenagers that he’d never seen before. “What do you want?” Jack asked.

  “An answer to a question,” Goyaalé replied.

  “Ask the question and I will try to give the answer to you,” Jack said.

  “We wondered why the white soldiers hate you so
much. They went to a lot of trouble to make you suffer.”

  “They hate me for the same reason that they hate you,” Jack replied. “Fear. They fear you. They fear me. But for different reasons.”

  The man knelt beside Jack and handed him a water gourd. “Drink slow. The cactus juice you have been drinking has kept you alive, but it will make you sick when it mixes with the water.”

  Jack took a sip. “I am grateful.”

  “You are the son of Marina. No?”

  “Yes.”

  “She did not teach you our language?”

  Jack took another small sip and felt his stomach boil. “I speak Kiowa. Do you understand Kiowa?”

  “Yes, but Spanish is easier.”

  Jack nodded. “For me too.”

  “You do not fear us,” another man observed.

  “What can you do to me except kill me? I am already dead.”

  “We saw what they did to the house of Marina,” the older man said. “Why did they do that?”

  Jack shook his head. “Because they could. I will kill them for it someday. Or die trying.”

  The Indian nodded. “I know this feeling.”

  “Yes. I have heard this about you.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Yes,” Jack said. “You are Goyaalé, the one who yawns. The Mexicans call you Geronimo.”

  “Yes.” Geronimo looked at the other men questioningly and all three nodded. “You can come with us, if you can keep up.”

  “Spare me a little water, if you can, and I will follow your trail,” Jack said. “I cannot keep up.”

  “The son of Marina can ride my horse,” one of the other men offered.

  Geronimo stood up. “We go then.”

  “Where?” Jack asked.

  “Fort Davis,” Geronimo answered. “To kill the man named Baylor and all his tribe.”

  August 9, 1861

  Dug Springs, Missouri

  Despite Colonel Robert Van Buskirk’s best efforts to gather the facts about the conflict in Missouri, they were still unclear to him as he rode into the camp of General Nathaniel Lyon. Lyon received Robert coolly and passed him off to Colonel Franz Sigel, a German immigrant school teacher who was a political appointee of President Abraham Lincoln.