Sea to Shining Sea

by Michael Phillips

  “I can’t believe it—in California! Who was behind it?”

  “Buchanan’s secretary of war, John Floyd. He left Washington, joined the Confederacy, and from what we hear had been arranging for the shipment of guns even while he was in Washington. I tell you, Almeda, it’s a dangerous situation. The South has supporters everywhere!”

  If 1860 had been a dangerous year in the history of the country, as I’d heard the men discussing at the celebration at the Montgomery Hotel, then 1861 was the year when that danger climaxed and exploded. It didn’t take long after Mr. Lincoln’s inauguration. The day after it, in fact.

  On March 5, Mr. Lincoln was told that the army men at Fort Sumter were running seriously low on supplies and food. Unless they received more soon, they would have to abandon the fort. If that happened, South Carolina would take possession of it, and their victory would make the new outlaw nation seem all the more legitimate.

  Mr. Lincoln determined not to let that happen. Fort Sumter was a symbol of the authority of the United States government and its army. It had to remain in Union hands. Even though a ship with provisions had been fired upon and turned back in January, Lincoln decided to send several ships this time, as a relief expedition.

  Early in April, therefore, he informed authorities in South Carolina that the ships were on their way.

  At last the leaders of the new Confederacy showed how confident they were. They didn’t want to let the ships get to Fort Sumter, or else it would reduce their authority in the world’s sight. They wanted to prove how strong they were. In their eyes, a foreign nation controlled a Confederate harbor. So they decided not to wait for the ships to get there. They would attack Fort Sumter first and take control of it before the relief force arrived. They would show whose authority was greatest!

  The Confederate commander at Charleston took an order to the Union commander at the fort demanding that he surrender Fort Sumter at once. He refused.

  On the morning of April 12, therefore, the Confederate commander opened fire on the fort and blasted it with cannon balls and gunfire all that day and into the night. The small detachment of Union soldiers with scant supplies was helpless. If they didn’t yield, they would all eventually be killed. On the next day they gave up and surrendered.

  Suddenly the North came alive. Everyone who heard the news of the attack was outraged. It was finally clear—there was no more hope of compromise!

  The President and the country had been patient long enough. The honor of the flag had been flagrantly attacked; the Rebel outlaws must be punished! As with one loud unanimous voice, the public demanded retribution against the South. There could be no two separate nations! The Union must be saved. The United States of America must be preserved . . . no matter what had to be done!

  The New York Tribune carried the news:

  Fort Sumter is lost, but freedom is saved. There is no more thought of bribing or coaxing the traitors who have dared to aim their cannon balls at the flag of the Union, and those who gave their lives to defend it. Fort Sumter is temporarily lost, but the country is saved. Long live the Republic!

  News of the firing on Fort Sumter reached San Francisco on April 24, twelve days later. The very next afternoon a great crowd assembled at Portsmouth Square. Patriotic pro-Union speeches went on for a long part of the day, amid applause and cheering. It was not a day in San Francisco to express support for the South!

  Immediately President Lincoln sent out a call for 75,000 volunteers, and orders went out to the regular army troops stationed at the Presidio to be sent to the East. Lincoln’s message did not actually say the word. He said that the troops and additional volunteers were needed to deal with certain “combinations too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings.” In other words, all hope of compromise was dead.

  But whether he said it or not, everyone knew that the United States was now at war.

  With itself.

  Chapter 44

  Which Side for California?

  Everyone expected the war to be short.

  The South was so sure of a quick victory they thought all that would be necessary was for them to raise an army of volunteers and march north to take Washington, Philadelphia, and New York, and that would be the end of it. There was not even a need to sign up troops for lengthy assignments. The Confederacy made the enlistment period just twelve months. That would be more than enough time. Young men and boys throughout the South volunteered in droves. They were so feverish to join the Confederate army there weren’t enough guns for them all.

  Four more states promptly seceded—Virginia, Arkansas, Tennessee, and North Carolina. Although they were bound to the South in many ways, the states of Missouri, Kentucky, Maryland, and Delaware all decided to stay in the Union.

  In the North, the volunteer army grew just as rapidly. More practically minded as to the true depth of the conflict, the North enlisted its young soldiers for three years. Within weeks Lincoln’s request for 75,000 men had been passed. By the middle of the year, the Union’s army was 500,000 strong. President Lincoln ordered a naval blockade of the whole southern coastline so that ships with provisions could not get through.

  Loyalties in California were more divided than ever, now that war between the states had actually come. Pa came home from a session in Sacramento in May with what he considered good news.

  “Well, we finally put all that new republic and western confederacy talk to rest,” he said. “Piercy and Montgomery and all their crowd oughta be silenced for a while!”

  “What happened?” asked Almeda.

  “We Republicans finally got our own resolution on the floor—a resolution strongly supporting the Union and Mr. Lincoln’s government.”

  “Did you speak again?”

  “You bet I did! And this time I wasn’t embarrassed. I got up there and I said what I had to say!”

  “And it passed the vote?” I asked.

  “You’re doggone right it did—49 to 12. California’s on the Union side of this thing once and for all, and for good!”

  “What did it say?”

  “Just a bunch of fancy sounding words to say, ‘We’re behind you, Mr. President.’”

  “But what were the actual words?”

  “I’ll see if I can quote them: ‘The people of California are devoted to the Constitution and the Union now in the hour of trial and peril.’ Some kind of political gibberish like that!”

  But despite the vote in the California legislature, there still was more southern support in the state than was altogether comfortable. Many high office-holders had once been southerners. Not long after the war started, a group of San Francisco’s city leaders wrote to Secretary of War Cameron in Washington about their concerns. Since he was editor of the Alta, Mr. Kemble was part of that group. He later let me read a copy of the letter.

  A majority of our present state officers are undisguised and avowed Secessionists. . . . Every appointment made by our Governor unmistakably indicates his entire sympathy and cooperation with those plotting to sever California from her allegiance to the Union, and that, too, at the hazard of civil war.

  About three-eighths of our citizens are from slave-holding states. . . . These men are never without arms, have wholly laid aside their business, and are devoting their time to plotting, scheming, and organizing. Our advices, obtained with great prudence and care, show us that there are upwards of sixteen thousand “Knights of the Golden Circle” in the state, and that they are still organizing, even in our most loyal districts.

  Whether blood would ever be shed in California as a result of the North-South loyalties that were so divisive, it was still too soon to tell. We all hoped not, and hoped that the pro-Union stand of the legislature, in spite of what these men had said about Governor Downey, would ultimately influence the rest of the state to support the government of Lincoln and Hamlin instead of that of Davis and Stephens.

  But in the meantime, the first major exodus out of California sin
ce the gold rush began to occur. Young men began making their way east to volunteer for the fighting that was sure to come, some to join the Union army, others that of the Confederacy.

  Chapter 45

  Stanford for Governor

  I hadn’t seen Cal for quite some time, even though I hadn’t stopped thinking about him. There had been letters from time to time, but it wasn’t nearly the same.

  Then all of a sudden one day, there he was in Miracle Springs! I was working at the Mine and Freight when the stage rolled into town. And as I stood staring blankly and absent-mindedly through the backward letters of the word P-A-R-R-I-S-H painted on the window, suddenly there he was stepping down out of the coach.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes! I blinked a time or two. I must have been dreaming, I thought. But when he turned momentarily in my direction, I knew there could be no mistake.

  The next second I was out the door and bolting across the dirt street—not very ladylike, but I wasn’t thinking of propriety at the time!

  “Cal!” I called out, clomping along in my office boots, my dress flopping about behind me, and holding on to my bonnet to keep it from flying off into the dirt. “Cal. . . !”

  He turned from where he had been saying something to the driver and smiled at me in greeting. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d run right up to him and almost threw my arms around him. Luckily I caught myself in time.

  “Whatever are you doing here?” I exclaimed, gulping for breath.

  “What else would I be doing in Miracle Springs,” he said, “but visiting my favorite writer and person, Cornelia Hollister?”

  Hearing my full name from his lips sent a tingle through me, and I was glad I was already flushed from the run across the street!

  “But why?”

  “You don’t think visiting you would be enough of a reason for a man?” he said with a grin and a wink.

  “Oh, Cal, don’t joke with me. You must have come for some other reason. Did you come to see Pa about some Republican business?”

  He laughed. “Ah, Corrie, but you are inquisitive. Well, you’re right, I did come on Republican business—but not to see your pa. I tell you, I came to see you!”

  “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll tell you everything. But don’t you want to wait until the dust from the stage settles? Perhaps we could have dinner together. Is there someplace—”

  “Of course! You’ll come home and have supper with us tonight!” I said enthusiastically. “Everybody will be happy to see you again!”

  “I had in mind someplace where we might be alone,” said Cal.

  I blushed in earnest.

  “Am I embarrassing you, Corrie? I do apologize. It’s only that I have something very important to talk over with you—something I want to discuss in private, something that concerns our future.”

  What was he saying? My head was spinning, frantically trying to think what to say, what to suggest. Before I could get another word out, Cal spoke up again.

  “Now that I think about it,” he said, “I suppose it would be fitting to include your father—your whole family, in fact—in the announcement I have to make.”

  “Announcement, Cal . . . what announcement?” I faltered.

  “Oh, you’ll just have to wait to hear with the rest of them!” he laughed. “I gave you a chance to hear the good news by yourself. But now you’ll just have to share it with everyone else!”

  He finished his statement, then just stared at me with his blue eyes and a big grin.

  “So . . . do I consider that a formal invitation to supper?” he said at length.

  “Uh . . . uh, yes,” I stumbled out. “Yes . . . of course.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then . . . I know you’ve probably got work to do over at the office. So I’ll just keep myself busy, look around the town awhile, maybe have a drink. And Carl asked me to pay a visit to Mr. Royce as long as I was coming this way. Shall I meet you out at your house this evening?”

  “Uh . . . yes,” I said. “I reckon that’ll be just fine.”

  “I’ll hire a buggy and be out.”

  He turned and began to walk away. I was still standing there in a daze. “No . . . wait, Cal,” I said, finally coming to my senses. “Ride out with me. I have Almeda’s buggy here. Come over to the office around five o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there,” he said cheerily.

  Still I just stood there watching him walk over to the boardwalk and then toward Mr. Royce’s bank.

  I wasn’t much good at the office the rest of the afternoon. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and it was all I could do to keep away from Marcus and Mr. Ashton. If they took one good look at me, they’d start asking all kinds of questions about whether I was sick or something. This was one time I did not want two old unmarried men fussing over me. So I spent most of the afternoon in Almeda’s office with the door closed. But I didn’t get a single thing done!

  All I could think about were Cal’s words, going over and over and over again in my mind.

  The announcement I have to make . . . someplace where we might be alone . . . in private . . . something that concerns our future . . . our future . . . OUR future . . .

  The ride out to the claim later that day with Cal at my side was nearly torture! He was talkative and friendly, as always, but I was about as interesting as a wet dishrag! It was the longest ride home from town I’d ever had.

  I wasn’t any better at supper. Pa and Almeda and the others were delighted to see Cal, of course, and he was charming and friendly, laughing and nice and hospitable. He congratulated and praised Pa, saying he always knew his star was on the rise.

  They talked about politics mostly, and a lot about the problem with the Confederacy and Fort Sumter.

  “Do you think there’ll actually be fighting, Cal?” Pa asked.

  “It seems impossible to avoid it now, with both sides so dead set against any kind of giving in.”

  “It’s just awful,” said Almeda. “The thought of Americans killing Americans is horrible! It oughtn’t to be happening!”

  I just sat waiting, trembling inside. How could they talk about politics and the war when was Cal going to make his announcement?

  I didn’t have too much longer to wait.

  “But the hostilities between North and South isn’t why I’ve come to Miracle Springs,” he said when there was a lull in the conversation. “I have some exciting news to tell you all—news that I felt merited a personal visit.”

  I sat staring straight down at the table, too scared to look up. Somehow I knew, though, that Cal was looking at me.

  He paused, and the others waited for him to continue.

  “You both know, Mr. and Mrs. Hollister,” he finally went on, “how fond I am of your daughter.”

  I glanced up. They both nodded.

  “So fond of her, in fact,” Cal said, “that I knew from the very start, right from that evening we all met back in San Francisco, you remember, Mr. Hollister, just about a year ago—I knew that here was a young lady I wanted to be part of my future. I knew too that I wanted her to meet my boss, Mr. Stanford. I just had a feeling about her—a feeling which, I am happy to say, turned out to be a positive omen of things to come.”

  Again he stopped briefly and drew in a breath. Then he looked over at me, reached out and placed his hand gently on top of mine, and began again.

  “Just a few days ago, Mr. Stanford made public his candidacy for the governorship of California. And, Corrie, he asked me to come out here to ask you personally if you would be part of his campaign—a campaign to take control of the great state of California on behalf of the pro-Union Republican party.”

  He stopped. His face was bright with expectation as he gazed at me. I knew he probably thought I would be overcome with gratefulness. I was overcome, all right—but with an entirely different emotion!

  “That . . . that is the announcement you told me about in t
own?” I asked softly, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

  “Yes. Isn’t it exciting, Corrie? It’s the opportunity I was telling you about . . . the future. For us to be part of together, just like I was saying when we were together in Palo Alto. An exciting future full of opportunities that we can share!”

  But I only heard about half his words before I was up from the table and running to my room. I lay down on my bed and sobbed quietly. How could I possibly have been so stupid?

  But even as I lay there, I remembered the other time Cal had been here, and what a fool I’d made of myself, sneaking around in the woods with dirt all over me. I could not let something like that happen again!

  I quickly jumped up off my bed, ran to my washbasin, which still had some water in it, dashed a little on my face, dried with a towel, sucked in a deep breath, and turned around to walk back out and face the music. I would be brave, and put the best face on an awkward situation I could.

  I returned to the table. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly,” I said. “I was just overcome for a minute, and had to be alone. But I’m fine now.”

  I sat back down and gave Cal the biggest smile I could manage to muster. I hoped my red eyes didn’t betray me.

  “You can tell Mr. Stanford that I’d be honored,” I said. “I would very much like to do what I could to help him.”

  “Good . . . wonderful!” exclaimed Cal. “I know that will please him a great deal.”

  With the business out of the way, the conversation again drifted toward politics. It seemed that was just about the only things folks talked about these days. With a war imminent, there was a great sense of uncertainty and tension, even in far-off California.