The Tender Flame (17 page)

News arrived from Washington, D.C., of trouble between the Northern states and the Southern states. There was a battle going on in Congress over states’ rights and the issue of slavery, and the state politicians were in heated debate. At the same time, a national election had just been held, and Republican Abraham Lincoln was elected president of the United States. Though Lincoln was not an abolitionist, it was known before the election that he regarded slavery as an evil and opposed its extension. This in itself had the Southern states upset.

These hot topics were the talk of the fort.

To South Carolina, Lincoln’s election was a signal for secession, and the state pulled out of the Union in December. By Inauguration Day, March 4, 1861, six more states had seceded, and along with South Carolina, they formed the Confederate States of America.

While the soldiers of Fort Union continued to fight Indians, a steady stream of news concerning the problems between the Union and the Confederacy came to the fort.

Ten days after President Lincoln’s inauguration, Colonel Ballard called a meeting of everyone in the fort and told them it looked as though there was going to be a war between the North and the South.

The very next month, on April 14, Ballard called another meeting to announce that the War between the States had started two days before at Fort Sumter, South Carolina. The South had fired the first shot.

As the Civil War grew intense, President Lincoln called for volunteers to fight the Southerners. He also ordered the commandants of Union forts in the western territories to send troops to Virginia, where most of the fighting was taking place.

Colonel Ballard gave up half of his troops to the Union cause.

By the end of 1861, the people of Fort Union learned that the Civil War was coming their direction. Many of the Indians had joined with the Confederate troops who were coming into New
Mexico Territory by direct order of the Confederate president, Jefferson Davis.

As things began to look worse for the Union forts in the West, Major John M. Chivington formed a band of fighting men called the Colorado Volunteers. There were skirmishes in several places across Colorado and New Mexico, and by the end of February 1862, the fighting had become fierce.

In mid-March, the federal authorities in Washington wired a message to Colonel Ballard, directing him to send Major Grant Smith to Glorieta Pass in New Mexico with a unit of two hundred men. The pass was sixty miles southwest of Fort Union, at the southern tip of the Sangre de Cristo Range in the Rocky Mountain cordillera. The Confederates were also sending troops toward the pass. Whichever army controlled the pass would control the Intermountain West.

Grant’s orders were to join forces with Major Chivington and the Colorado Volunteers, who were at that moment on a fast ride from Denver to the pass. The Union forces must beat the Rebels to the spot, defeat them in the impending battle, and maintain control of the pass.

Major Grant Smith and his men stood ready to leave the fort at sunrise on Thursday, March 20. Cannons on wheels had been hitched to ammunition and supply wagons, which were pulled by mules. Horses were saddled and stood in ranks of ten for the sixty-mile journey.

It was a difficult moment when the wives and children of the officers gathered for good-byes. Chaplain Brett Cornell prayed with the men; then the officers said good-bye to their families while the enlisted men looked on and thought of their own families back home.

Carrie Smith gave Daniel a gentle push toward his daddy. When both her brothers had hugged their father’s neck, Jessica moved to her father, tears in her eyes, and said, “I’ll be praying for you, Daddy.”

Grant folded her in his arms and held her tight. “You do that, honey, and Daddy will be back before you know it. I love you.”

Jessica sniffed. “I love you, too.”

Carrie had seen her husband off to battle many times, yet each time he left, it became a little more difficult. But Grant was in God’s hands, and she had absolute confidence that God’s will would be done. With an inner calm, she moved close to her husband as Jessica stepped aside.

Carrie’s eyes flooded with tears, and she reached up a slender hand to caress Grant’s cheek, looking deeply into his eyes. Grant clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a light kiss on her palm. He then folded her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

“I’ll be back, sweetheart.”

Carrie nodded. “Of course you will. I love you, darling.”

“And I love you. With all my heart.”

Carrie wiped tears from her eyes and took a step backward to stand between Jessica and Daniel. David positioned himself in front of her, a small fist clinging to her skirt.

Grant pivoted, mounted his horse, and his voice reverberated across the compound as he shouted, “All right, men … mount up!”

As Grant, flanked by a corporal carrying a Union flag, led his cavalry unit toward the open gate, he turned in the saddle one last time and let his eyes roam over his family.

The wives and children followed the column as far as the open gate.

While tears streamed down Jessica’s cheeks, Joshua Cornell slipped up beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. She looked up through her tears to see who it was, and managed to smile as he said, “It’ll be all right, Jessica. Your daddy will be back before you know it.”

Soon the distant riders were only a small cluster of dots on the horizon, but the tight-knit group at the gate did not turn away until the men had vanished from view.

On the last day of March, the two sentries in the Fort Union tower were watching the red-gold sun sink behind the rugged horizon. Four units had gone out on patrol that morning and had returned within the last half hour.

Private Harry Combs squinted at the horizon. “Bill, you see that?”

Corporal Bill Watts reached for the one pair of binoculars in the tower. “Do you think it could be them?”

“You tell me.”

“Looks like only about a couple dozen men,” Bill said as he gazed through the binoculars. “I sure hope there are more men than that, out of two hundred, coming back.”

After several more minutes, Watts said, “It’s Major Smith’s unit, all right. I don’t see the major, but I recognize Captain Scudder out front. And … ah … yes, that’s Lieutenant Brimble next to him. There’s a wagon at the rear. It’s got wounded men in it. I can see a jumble of uniforms back there, and both medics are attending them.”

“I’ll go let Colonel Ballard know,” Combs said.

“Better stop off and alert Dr. Chandler. Looks like he’s going to have his hands full.”

Word spread quickly through the fort that some of Major Smith’s men were returning from the battle. Within minutes everyone in the fort was at the wide-open gate, watching the weary-looking men as they drew near.

Carrie and her children were near the front of the crowd, and Jessica said, “Mama, Daddy’s not with them.”

“Maybe he had to stay behind with the other men, honey,” Carrie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Colonel Ballard, flanked by a few other officers, moved out to meet them. Captain Fred Scudder dismounted, saluted the colonel, and said, “We won the battle at Glorieta Pass, sir. What few Rebels were left have gone on the run. We left a hundred thirty-eight men to help Major Chivington occupy the pass … buried thirty-two.
We’ve got eleven wounded men in the wagon. I’ll give you a detailed report in your office.”

“Major Smith stayed at Glorieta?” Ballard said.

“No, sir. He’s in the wagon. Got his leg shot up pretty bad. Our medics have done a marvelous job bandaging him and the rest of the wounded.”

When Carrie heard that, she dashed past the mounted men to the wagon. Grant lay at the tailgate, his eyes closed.

One of the medics said, “He’s unconscious, Mrs. Smith. Took shrapnel from a Rebel cannonball in his left thigh.”

“Will he be all right?”

“I can’t really say, ma’am. Dr. Chandler will be able to tell you once he looks at him. We took the shrapnel out, but it damaged bone. That’s all I can tell you.”

The colonel’s authoritative voice said, “Doc’s preparing for these men in the infirmary right now. Let’s get them there.”

C
HAPLAIN
B
RETT
C
ORNELL AND HIS WIFE
, Martha, sat in a small waiting room adjacent to the infirmary with Carrie Smith and Florence Roberts, wife of Lieutenant Dean Roberts. Dr. Clifford Chandler had already explained to the two women that he and his assistant would work on the officers and enlisted men according to the seriousness of their wounds. In this situation, military rank had no precedence.

About six o’clock that evening, Dr. Chandler entered the waiting room and broke the news to Florence that her husband had died on the operating table. The Cornells and Carrie did what they could to comfort the woman; then Martha took Florence and her children to their apartment in the officers’ quarters.

It was almost nine o’clock when a weary Dr. Chandler came to the waiting room, drying his hands on a towel. “Mrs. Smith, your husband lost some more blood, but he’s going to pull through all right. It took better than two hours of surgery to clean the bone fragments out of the wound, repair what damage I could, and sew him up.”

Carrie breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her children close. “Praise the Lord, Daddy’s going to be all right.”

Dr. Chandler hunkered down in front of Carrie. “I must tell you, ma’am, that the shrapnel cut deep into the thigh bone, just above the knee, and did permanent damage. Major Smith will be on crutches for at least three months. I think he may have to walk with a cane. I could be wrong, and I hope I am, but even if he gets past the cane stage, he’ll walk with a prominent limp for the rest of his life.”

“But how will he continue his military career with an impediment like that?”

“He won’t, ma’am. His military career is over. It will be my duty to inform Colonel Ballard that Major Smith can no longer fulfill his duties. If he tried to do so, the leg could give out on him at any time. In combat it could cost the major his life … and maybe the lives of other soldiers. He must never lead a cavalry unit into battle again. In fact, he won’t even be able to get on a horse for a long time.”

Tears filled Carrie’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

Jessica looked up. “What will Daddy do, Mama? The army is his whole life.”

“Your daddy is a resourceful man, honey. He’ll find something else to do.” She looked at the doctor. “I assume Grant doesn’t know this yet.”

“No. He’s still under the chloroform. I suggest that you and your children go home and get a good night’s rest. He’s going to be under for a while. Can you bring the children and come back in the morning? Say … eight o’clock?”

“Certainly. Jessica and Daniel can be late for school.”

“Good. I’d like you to be with him when he hears the news.” He added to Cornell, “It would be good if you could be here too, Chaplain.”

Brett nodded. “You can count on it, Doctor.”

At eight o’clock the next morning, Carrie and her children entered the small room where Grant lay on a cot. The chaplain and the doctor looked on while the major’s family embraced him. Then, while Carrie held Grant’s hand, Dr. Chandler carefully explained the seriousness of the wound.

Grant looked up at Carrie and said, “Well, I guess that’s it, then. Not exactly what I’d hoped to hear, but God knew all along. I think the best thing for us to do is go to Montgomery Village. I know a lot of people in the area, and I’m sure someone will give this crippled man a job.”

“If that’s what you feel is best, then that’s what we’ll do, darling.”

“You’ll need to stay here at the fort till you completely recuperate from the surgery, Major,” Dr. Chandler said. “You mustn’t travel for at least three months. It would be best to wait until you’re off the crutches and using a cane.”

“You’re the doctor.”

“We’ll sure miss the Smith family around here,” Brett Cornell said, “but the Lord’s will be done. Let’s pray, Major, thanking the Lord that you’re still alive and that you didn’t lose your leg.”

Grant smiled. “Things could always be worse, couldn’t they, Chaplain? The Lord is so good to us.”