Out of the Crucible

by Marian Wells

  She looked. Bone weary, thin, they stood huddled in the pasture in a private group. “The poor things,” she whispered; “they aren’t even interested in grazing.”

  As they rode up to the ranch house, Daniel murmured, “It’s obvious the barn has been turned into a hospital.” Amy’s glance shied away from the wagon loaded with long, blanket-wrapped objects. She saw Daniel’s sober face as he lifted her down.

  The rifle nudged Matthew as he slowly slid off Amy’s horse. “Be careful!” Amy snapped. “He’s injured.”

  Their guard leered at Amy. “Not many who ain’t.” He waved his rifle at them and jerked his head toward the door.

  When they faced the uniformed man across the kitchen table, Amy’s heart sank. Daniel said, “Sir, may we speak to Major Chivington?”

  The man’s tired face sharpened into a questioning frown. “I don’t know where you picked up the name, but he isn’t here.”

  He turned to the grinning soldier. “Looks like you’ve done your duty for the day. Report to Weston.”

  Facing Daniel he said, “I’m Colonel Slough, in charge of this offensive. I’m willing to listen to your story, but obviously your friend’s story won’t carry much weight since he’s wearing the uniform of a Confederate soldier. Why were you carrying a rifle? Be careful what you say. It’s a Perry, a breechloading carbine, just like the rest of the fellows from Texas are carrying.”

  “Sir,” Matthew protested, “I was trying to steal his horse when he caught me.”

  “You were holding him prisoner?”

  “Well, actually, no,” Daniel said. “I couldn’t make up my mind to turn him over. It seems—”

  “And yet you want to talk to Chivington.” The man’s eyes were cold. “Well, you’ll probably get the opportunity. Our detachment is leaving for Fort Union in the morning.”

  Late that evening, locked in a tiny room at the farmhouse, Daniel comforted Amy. “Dear wife, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m certain we’ll be delayed, but as soon as we see John Chivington, we’ll be freed and ready to leave for Las Vegas.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she murmured into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about Matthew. I guess being in his company has nearly made me feel different about the other side.”

  “I know,” Daniel whispered, “but this is probably not the best place to discuss it.”

  ****

  Flanked by the United States Army, two days later they rode into Fort Union. Looking at Daniel, seeing the concern on his face, Amy tried to smile. She murmured, “I can nearly feel important, being under guard like this. A dignitary. Daniel, do you suppose one of these days we’ll laugh about this?”

  He turned from scanning the terrain and smiled. “Most likely. Right now I’m looking forward to a decent meal.”

  “And water enough to bathe!” Amy straightened in the saddle and grinned up at him.

  “Meanwhile, look at the strange shape of the land.”

  The guard beside Daniel said, “Since you’re a prisoner, I might as well tell you; that’s the famous star fortification.” While Daniel winced, the guard continued. “They built an underground fort—well, they started anyway. Everything’s under ground.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “A good idea, but I understand it isn’t the most comfortable place to live. Fact is, look at the tents. I guess the fellows would rather camp outside.”

  It was late when they were finally escorted up to the old log fort. Amy and Daniel watched Matthew being led away, and then they stumbled across the parade grounds with their guard leading the way. As he opened the door of the crude log cabin, the guard said, “Good thing you have your bedroll. Someone will be along with grub in a while. Don’t try any fancy footwork. We’re under orders to shoot first and ask questions later. These are war times.”

  He started out the door and then turned. “In the morning you’ll be allowed out on the grounds, but under no circumstances are you to leave the fort. There’s a well on the far end of the parade grounds. One of the officers’ wives will tell you where to obtain supplies. Your case will come up for consideration at the convenience of Colonel Slough.”

  ****

  The urgency in Daniel’s voice reached through Amy’s dreams. “Sweetheart, come see. Now I understand why they say the desert is beautiful.”

  With the blanket wrapped around her, Amy came to blink sleepy eyes at the dawning world. “Daniel, it’s all pink, even the soil—and those strange rearing shapes. They must be rocks.”

  “Sandstone, I think. It is colorful.” He turned to point southeast. “Except for that line of dark blue mountains. Look at the green to the west. Must be a river. I’ve been hearing children, so there must be families here.”

  He squeezed her against him. “Good morning, Wife.” After a quick kiss, he added, “Do we have any cornmeal? I prefer your cooking to what we had last night.”

  “We need water; I’ll dress.”

  “I’ll bring water and wood for the stove.”

  Amy had just pushed the last hairpin in place when the door opened. “Daniel—” she said as she turned. With a gasp she stared at the woman. “Mother!”

  Crying and laughing, with their words tumbling over each other, Amy hugged her mother while Amelia explained. “We never did get to Las Vegas. Your father—”

  “We were so worried!”

  “Amy, I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Where is Father?”

  Daniel pushed in between them. “Accident—he has a broken leg. I found her at the well and we came back for you. Let’s go.”

  They cut across the parade grounds and headed for the little log cabin at the end of the road. “These cabins are all alike, just big enough to hold a bed and stove,” Amelia murmured, “but we have the distinction of having the one next door to the prison.”

  Amy stopped abruptly. “Daniel, do you suppose that’s where they put Matthew?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “I don’t suppose they’ve even dressed his wound.”

  Amelia moved ahead to push open the door of the cabin. Amy flew past her, “Father, surprise!” She threw herself at the man in the bed, “Oh, you’re so pale.”

  “He’s had a lot of pain,” Amelia said gently, as she took the pail of water and carried it to the stove.

  “What happened?” Daniel asked as he pulled a bench close to the bed.

  Eli, looking flustered and concerned, released Amy. “Daughter, dry your tears. I’m not dying. There, there,” he patted awkwardly.

  “We’ve been worried,” Daniel began. “When we heard about the Colorado Volunteers moving into the territory, we decided we’d better come looking for you.”

  Eli nodded gravely. “War talk. Heard about Chivington coming. Quite a switch in assignments, going from being a clergyman in the Methodist Episcopal Church to leading a volunteer army. Last night for the first time we heard about the battle at Glorieta Pass.”

  “We’ve just come from there. Matter of fact—”

  Amy broke in, “We’ve been trying to find you. First we went to Santa Fe. That didn’t seem to be the thing to do—” Her eyes were signaling Daniel and he frowned.

  “Amy, I don’t think we need to worry about the letter anymore.”

  “Maybe you should deliver it anyway. Then they’ll know we’re not spies.”

  Eli pushed himself into a sitting position. “Spies!”

  Amy studied his pale face and said, “Just mistaken identity. I’m certain it will all be taken care of as soon as Daniel has a chance to explain to Major Chivington.” Quickly Amy turned to Amelia. “What are you going to do now?”

  “We can’t do anything until that leg heals enough for your father to travel.”

  “Daughter, you’re uneasy,” Eli said. “Are you thinking I might be having some secessionist ideas since the family all came from Missouri? Well, rest easy. We’re solidly behind the Union.”

  But Amy had closed her eyes. She was thinking of the events of
the past two weeks. The faces of Dolores and Manuel were backed by those nameless figures in gray uniforms with rearing horses and blasting cannon. The parade of faces continued to move through her memory—Hal and Matt and then the stranger desperately lashing his horse as he flew down the road. Amy jumped to her feet and turned away from the bed.

  Amelia moved to the stove, saying. “Amy, come help me. I’m going to make some breakfast for us. Seems a treat is in order. How about some fried cakes with maple sugar? Daniel, have you had a good cup of coffee since you burned your fingers grinding the beans for me?”

  Suddenly Amelia was holding on to her, saying, “Amy, sweetie, what is it?” For a moment Amy relaxed against her mother, feeling Daniel’s hand firm on her back.

  “She’s seen a lot of life since we left Colorado.”

  The room finished its swaying. Amy straightened and squeezed Amelia. “Life? I didn’t expect to be dumped in the middle of war.” She gulped and added, “I guess I’ll—” She glanced at Daniel and remembered what he had said about trusting the Lord. She added, “I guess we will be fine now. I’m hungry and it’s good to see you all.”

  For one more second Daniel’s eyes were filled with concern, and then he grinned.

  Chapter 14

  Amy sat beside the bed, stitching up the rip in Daniel’s shirt and listening to her father. Eli punched his pillow and said, “Since ’53 they’ve had their eye on the area.”

  She studied him over the shirt. “The Confederates? Father, by area, do you mean New Mexico Territory?”

  “More’n that. See, Jefferson Davis was secretary of war in Pierce’s cabinet back in ’53. From the beginning he was a man determined to further the interests of the South. Namely slavery. Davis had a dream of securing a commercial route across the southern section of the country for the purpose of more closely tying the West Coast to the rest of the country. Coincidentally, he was interested in the California gold fields. To further this dream, he knew the United States must obtain land from Mexico.”

  Amy ducked her head to hide the smile. When Eli adopted his “teacher voice,” he was unconscious of all except his subject. Amy interrupted, “You mean 1853? Father, are you telling me there were problems that far back?”

  “Of course.” Looking at his excited face, she recalled the last time he had discussed politics with such fervor. It had been in Central City with Lucas Tristram.

  The memory of that man’s face surfaced in Amy’s mind. She moved her shoulders uncomfortably as she began to wonder why he was in Santa Fe. Had he been there when the Confederate flag was raised? Why did the memory of his face cause such discomfort?

  Eli’s voice overlapped Amy’s thoughts. With relief, she turned to listen. “Right now, both sides are blaming the other for the problems leading to the war. The Union is blamed for restricting the rights of the southern states—they called it freedom to allow slavery to exist. The Confederacy is accused of trying to split the Union apart. Neither one will bring out the real issue. Slavery has been a wound in the side of the whole country almost from the beginning, and it’s going to have to go!”

  Amelia stacked dishes on the shelf. Nodding she said, “Because of the Constitution. Any man with a lick of conscience would declare his obligation to support it. Without a doubt it advocates freedom for all men.”

  She spun around, and Amy saw the bright dots of red on her cheeks as she lifted her chin and added, “White superiority smells to high heaven!”

  “Now, Amelia,” Eli chided. Amy watched the red fade from her mother’s cheeks as she turned back to the dishpan. She also noted the once-proud shoulders were drooping.

  Caught by the difference and intrigued by her mother’s passionate statement, Amy dropped the mending into her lap and studied her. Somehow the words seemed to belong to the woman called Silverheels. Uncomfortable with that thought, Amy tried to push it aside, but it lingered.

  Her father’s voice faded into the background as she looked at her mother’s faded blond hair twisted into a discreet knot and the unadorned face still marked by the ugly red scars.

  She could see Amelia’s eyes were still flashing and her lips compressed as she bent over the dishpan. Mother is not just a former dancehall madame. There is something more, and I want to find out what it is.

  Amy glanced at her mother, feeling a new excitement as she thought of the strong statements she had made.

  Her father was silent. Amy stuck the needle back into the fabric and asked, “Father, you said slavery was a wound. Why?”

  He brooded over the words as he said, “Because man could neither live with it or without it.” Leaning forward to shake his finger at Amy, he added, “It’s no secret that the North, for the most part, would rather the whole situation just go away. They fear losing their jobs to the black man. There have been enough Negroes willing to work circles around the lazy white man that we’ve learned to fear the results of true freedom for all.”

  The words slipped past Amy as she watched her mother move about the little cabin restlessly. Her shoulders still drooped, and when she turned, in the moment before her smile, Amy saw the sadness in her face.

  Amy realized her father was no longer speaking. She saw his eyes were closed. Amelia whispered, “Let’s go. I want you to meet some of the women.”

  Carefully Amelia closed the door behind them and said, “There’s still a number of army wives here. I thought you might like to make their acquaintance.”

  “I wonder what is happening to Daniel,” Amy brooded as she kept pace with Amelia’s long strides.

  “No doubt he’s having a good visit,” Amelia smiled down at Amy and drew her arm through hers. “I can’t believe that silly charge will persist. A clergyman spying!”

  Silently Amy pondered the problem of Matthew. Tentatively she probed. “What are they going to do with the prisoners?”

  Her mother studied her. “I don’t know what they do. There’s still a war going on. Amy, you’re too sympathetic. Leave the war to the men.”

  She studied the ground. “Do they let people visit them?”

  “I would think so.” They stopped in front of another cabin and Amelia rapped on the door. “Katherine’s husband is an officer. They—”

  The door flew open and a tousled head appeared on a level with the knob. “Mama isn’t here. Nanny says come.”

  They stepped into the room. A tiny girl was seated in the middle of a cot. She sobbed soundlessly as she scrubbed at the tears on her face. A tall, ungainly figure leaned against the broom she held and peered into a shadowed corner.

  “Set, if you wish. There’s a rat behind that barrel and I aim to be ready when he comes out. Now hush yourself, Elizabeth; it won’t do no good to fuss.” The sentence ended in a squeal and Amy watched the woman launch into action.

  Elizabeth screamed and Amelia picked up the child. The broom stopped its flailing and the woman backed out of the corner. “James, hand me that shovel. I declare, this killing the varmints is getting to be a daily affair.”

  “The poor child,” Amy crooned as she stroked the baby’s cheek.

  The woman shook her head. “She just doesn’t want me to kill them.”

  James added, “Elizabeth likes varmints.” He sat down and folded his arms. “Me, I don’t. I’m going to be a soldier like Pa; only I’m going to shoot rats.”

  “Well, I hope by the time you’re growed this war’ll be over.” She faced Amy and asked, “You’re new. Husband in the Army?”

  Amelia said, “Daniel’s a clergyman.”

  “I think we need soldiers instead. Let me tell you, I lived in Texas until Missus Horton hired me away. Came from Georgia first off.”

  “Why did you leave the South?” Amelia asked.

  The woman studied them just long enough for Amy to note the careworn face and the calloused hand sweeping back her hair. “You say that like you think the South is good. It is if you live on a big plantation and have nothing to do all day but eat bonbons and do fancywork. When
you’re poor whites, you scramble to make a living, just like the slaves.”

  She returned the broom to its corner and added, “The big plantation owners are buying land as fast as they can beat a poor fellow to market. And they don’t want it for growing corn and beans, no sir. It’s for planting cotton so’s they can get rich. How’s a poor man to feed himself? We went to Texas, and now they’ve sold us down the river. Surrendered to the Confederates without a fight. No common man had a chance to say whether or not he wanted to be a part of their fight for independence.” She studied her frayed apron before adding, “Pretty soon there’ll be no room for any but the rich.”

  Katherine didn’t return. Amy and Amelia soon left the cabin, but Amy continued to mull over the conversation. She was thinking about Amelia as they hurried back across the parade ground.

  Looking at her mother, she said, “I’m learning things about this war I’d never thought about until today. I knew slavery was the cause of the war; didn’t stop to think how wrong it is. People need to be free, don’t they?”

  Amelia looked down at her with a slight frown, and for a moment Amy wondered if they were talking about the same kind of freedom.

  ****

  Daniel followed the orderly into the commandant’s office. With a flourish of his hat, the orderly waved at the man behind the desk. “This here is Colonel Paul.”

  The man lifted his head. “So you’re the fellow picked up for aiding the enemy.”

  Daniel hesitated. “Yes, sir, I suppose that’s about it. This fellow—”

  “This is war. Why aren’t you in the Army?”

  “Sir, I’m a missionary for the Methodist Episcopal Church. My wife and I came to New Mexico to look—”

  “Never mind. I’m more interested in the charges against you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Daniel pulled out the letter. “I was given this letter to pass on to you. I don’t know the fellow’s name who gave it to me. He asked us to call him Hal.”

  Paul quickly scanned the letter and looked up at Daniel, “Describe the man.”

  “Tall, thin, with white hair.”