Iron Ties Part 38

"I thought you were on that train," said Inez in a low voice.

They rode side by side. Occasionally, his leg brushed hers.

"Change of plans yesterday after a discussion with Snow and Palmer. I took the early train this morning to Leadville. Spoke with Jed Elliston about his source for those Rio Grande articles. Talked with Hollis at some length. Then, talked with Abe. Once I heard where you'd gone and why, I cut my investigations short."

"Did Snow really engage Weston Croy to burn Hollis' livery?"

Sands sighed. "Snow became a tad overzealous in his attempts to secure right-of-way before Grant's arrival. The thought of General Grant being deposited among the tree stumps at the end of Third Street, because he couldn't move the condemnation procedure along faster or get the holdouts to agree to terms, must have been the last straw. I'm not certain how he lit on Weston Croy to further his plan, but it appears Brodie Duncan was the go-between. Needless to say, Palmer is not pleased."

He shifted. "Not that the fire changed much. Hollis said he won't sell. So, the Rio Grande will push through with condemnation. Hollis will lose in any case. The Rio Grande isn't waiting. They're planning on an extension through the Ten Mile District to Kokomo. They hope to get there within sixty days, barring bad luck. And, as you might have surmised, the Rio Grande road doesn't allow bad luck to interfere with its plans very much."

"What happened to Snow? And Birdie?" She stared straight ahead at the road and tried to make it a neutral question.

"Snow resigned. He's headed back to Philadelphia and civilization, taking his daughter with him." Inez could feel him looking steadily at her as he added, "He decided the far west is too rough for her temperament."

Not enough steel to her spine. Inez suffered the uncharitable thought to die in silence. Instead she asked, "How did you get tangled up in this? You seem on familiar terms with General Palmer."

The silence stretched beyond her words, and she feared he'd not answer.

Finally, he said, "I told you, once, about my sister and her plans to help the Union during the war. Judith's connections in Philadelphia, many of them became my own later. Many of the officers, they didn't know exactly what she was doing, but she was widely respected for her courage. Her resolve. I first met Palmer and others in those days."

The chirps and twilight songs of birds and the rushing of the river sang counterpoint to the creak of cart wheels and the soft clomp of hoofs on the dirt road. A light rain began to fall.

"So, this meeting I heard about in the Board of Trade Saloon, with you, McMurtrie, Snow, Doc...." She couldn't say Preston Holt's name. "I suppose that had to do with all this."

"I suppose I can tell you now since Duncan and Croy are dead. The danger appears to be past." He glanced back at Susan. "Miss Carothers, do you need a blanket?"

"There's one here in the cart."

He nodded. "Malta's ahead. Then it's three miles to Leadville." He then said to Inez, "Palmer received anonymous notes from Leadville. The first said a plot was being hatched against him and the railroad. That the threat came from within his very own organization."

"I'll bet Eli Carter wrote it," said Inez softly.

"Probably. Then, Grant accepted Palmer's invitation to visit Colorado Springs and partake of the Rio Grande's hospitality. Soon after, and before his visit was widely known outside of the Rio Grande inner circle, another note arrived, saying that there was a grave danger to General Grant as well. That last one was dated just the day before the explosion by the siding."

"The explosion that Susan witnessed."

Sands grunted. "At that point, the railroad began to sit up and take serious notice."

"I wonder...with all those expert marksmen, why dynamite supply cars and blow up tracks? Why not just bide their time and wait for the generals to arrive?"

"I believe it was their attempt to create overall havoc for the Rio Grande as well as provide misdirection. Rumors were that those responsible for the sabotage were from a rival railroad-the Santa Fe was an obvious choice, with the South Park being another possibility. There was even talk of citizens, disgruntled with certain Rio Grande actions regarding routes and right-of-way, being responsible. Of course, all those whispers and rumors pointed to the enemy being outside the ranks, not within."

"So why wasn't Grant's visit cancelled?"

"No one wanted to call it off. Not the Rio Grande. Not the Union Veterans a.s.sociation. Not Grant. And he was told of the possible danger. Remember, no one knew if the notes were bona fide. But they did want someone to...investigate is probably the proper word. Ask questions. Discreetly. And if there were folks causing trouble...." Sands looked away. Inez had no clue as to his expression as he continued, "It was hoped that troublemakers could be persuaded to desist."

He looked back at her. "On one hand, the sharpshooters from Missouri. You know about them. On the other, Brodie Duncan. Snow's clerk, courier, and all-around errand boy. Also from Missouri, with a grudge against Palmer. He was the most difficult piece of the puzzle to work out. I got lucky while in the Springs. A newsman from the Colorado Springs Gazette had recognized Duncan in Leadville and had a few things to say about him."

They reached Malta and moved quickly up the main street, which seemed oddly deserted. An inebriated pedestrian said they'd "just missed" Grant.

"The train's heading to Leadville," he said. "You can probably catch the procession. He'll be getting out on the Boulevard, east of the tollgate. A carriage'll take him into town."

"Will we get there in time?" Susan asked anxiously behind them.

"If we keep to a steady pace," Sands a.s.sured her.

As they left Malta behind, Inez, who was still pondering Brodie Duncan, said to Sands, "Duncan tried to kill Palmer once before. During the war, Duncan and his mother left Missouri and fled to Tennessee. He was a boy of fifteen when he shot at General Palmer...and missed. He was caught, and Palmer let him go. To think, that act of kindness from so many years ago bore such unexpected fruit. What an unfortunate coincidence that Duncan should have joined forces with those men who were gunning for the old Union generals."

"Not coincidence at all. Like draws like. Men with a common cause always manage to find others like themselves. And Missouri had more than her share of miseries, before, during, and after the war."

"The men from Missouri. They carried their hate, their hopes for vengeance so long." She paused, then spoke past the lump in her throat, "You know about Preston Holt? That he's dead. Duncan shot him in the back."

Sands reached out, took Inez's right hand, and held it fast. "It would take more than one misplaced bullet to kill Preston Holt."

For a moment, it was as if everything in the world had stopped moving. The only thing she felt for certain was the reverend's hand, warm and tight around hers. "But I heard-"

"You heard what was put out and around. What we wanted people to hear. Preston was left for dead but was found before that became the case. He told us about Duncan. About his brother Hiram. And his suspicions about Reuben. It wasn't easy for him. He's always believed in family. Loyalty. Couldn't imagine a better person at my back. Preston's a fighter. The doctors say he'll make it."

He squeezed her hand once. Then let it go.

The three of them-Sands, Inez, and Susan-entered Leadville's city limits.

The rain picked up with the wind.

Inez finally saw the Boulevard, lit with bonfires. Leadville's cavalry companies lined each side of the road in open ranks, ready to receive the general. Behind the cavalry, ma.s.ses of people seethed, wet hats, cloaks, waterproofs, gleaming in the light of the bonfires. The train rested, its engine panting, at the junction of the Boulevard and the foot of West Third Street. The grand procession, headed by the mayor and city council, and consisting of members of societies both military and civic, waited en ma.s.se, on Third.

Susan pulled up beside Inez and stood in the cart, straining her eyes toward the train.

Sands and Inez moved their horses closer together to make room for the people on foot who crowded around them as the reception committee disembarked from the train.

Sands once again reached for her. "About Miss Snow."

She slid her bare hand into his gloved one. "You don't have to say a thing."

She took a deep breath. "I've decided. To get a divorce. I'm not going to keep starting at shadows. Wondering at every turn if Mark will show or if he won't. I refuse to live in the darkness anymore."

Sands raised her hand to his lips. Kissed it.

They both turned eyes toward the train.

A compact, gray figure appeared on the platform, hat in hand.

General Ulysses S. Grant.

The crowd surged forward, and roars from a thousand voices rose to envelop him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Working in the shadows of history is, for me, one of the pleasures of writing historical fiction. To that end, real places, people, and events march through Iron Ties along with the creations of my overactive imagination.

First, to places. Leadville, Colorado, exists. You can visit it, walk the streets, learn its history, and-who knows?-maybe uncover the traces of an ancestor or two. For an entertaining account of Leadville's history, Edward Blair's Leadville, Colorado's Magic City is a good place to start. Two other resources on Leadville and its history are the everything-you-ever-wanted-to-know, two-volume work History of Leadville and Lake County, Colorado, by Don and Jean Griswold, and the much harder-to-find gem A Social History of Leadville, Colorado, during the Boom Days, 18771881, which is Eugene Floyd Irey's Ph.D. thesis from 1951.

The 1880 census claimed about 15,000 souls inhabited this silver mining boom town, a number hotly contested by local press and others, who placed the population closer to 40,000. It is mind-boggling (at least to me) to consider that all these folks and more-because some fair number no doubt were merely "pa.s.sing through"-came up to this 10,000-foot-high city before the arrival of the train: they took stagecoaches, wagons, or horses, or depended on their own two feet to power them over high mountain pa.s.ses.

Today, we have it easy. To get to Leadville, hop into your motorized vehicle, head west from Denver on I-70 into the Rocky Mountains, take the Copper Mountain exit, and follow the signs up over Fremont Pa.s.s and down into Leadville. Or, you can take a longer route through South Park and Fairplay, up over Trout Creek Pa.s.s, then head north on 24, paralleling the Arkansas River and the route of the long-gone Denver & Rio Grande tracks to Leadville.

If you take this leisurely drive up the Arkansas Valley, you'll see signs for some of the places mentioned in Iron Ties, including Granite, Twin Lakes, and Malta. But if you look for Disappointment Gulch, you will look in vain. The terrain that inspired my fictional gulch is right around Granite-an area of craggy outcroppings with the tracks running along the base, separating ridge from river. But no real gulch that matched this geology existed closer to Leadville, hence my disappointment (and poetic license).

As for the rest of this note, I'll give you fair warning: Spoilers lie ahead.

Iron Ties is based on two historical events: the coming of the Denver and Rio Grande railroad to Leadville in the summer of 1880 and the arrival of Civil War general Ulysses S. Grant on the first D&RG train to Leadville, on July 22, 1880. It seems that not all were happy with the arrival of the D&RG and/or Grant. George Elder, a young Leadville lawyer, wrote home in July 1879, "The AT&St Fe RR [Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe] would have reached Leadville by the Middle of September if it had not been for the interference of the D & R G RR, the latter road has been playing the part of the 'Dog in the Manger'. There is a strong feeling growing against the D & R G RR and its whole course has been a matter of condemnation for months back." The D&RG spent years tussling (in the courts, in the newspapers, and on the ground) with the Santa Fe railroad over right-of-way to Leadville. Fractious encounters with the Denver, South Park, and Pacific also occurred in the mid-1880s.

And then, there was the announcement of Grant's visit, with a plea in one of the local papers for Leadvillites to "set aside politics and welcome our guest." In 1880, the Civil War was not that far removed...a mere 15 years. Thinking on this, I remembered veterans of the Vietnam War discussing how a smell, a sudden sound, a dream, could bring the war flooding back as if it were yesterday. Might this not also be true for those who fought in the Civil War? And what would it mean to those veterans-Union and Confederate-to know that one of the pre-eminent generals from the North would be coming to town?

Little did I know that my decision to plunge into matters of railroads and the Civil War would nearly drown me in mountains of research and reference materials. Many excellent books exist about both topics; I'll mention a few here. Eric T. Dean, Jr.,'s Shook Over h.e.l.l: Post-Traumatic Stress, Vietnam, and the Civil War provides a thorough look at the psychological after-effects of the Civil War. Tony Horwitz's Confederates in the Attic is an interesting "journey" through the current-day South and demonstrates how the Civil War still echoes in the present. From Herman Hattaway's Shades of Blue and Gray, and James M. McPherson's The Most Fearful Ordeal, I moved to Michael Shaara's The Killer Angels and Bell I. Wiley's The Life of Johnny Reb and the Life of Billy Yank, and thence to James G. Hollandsworth, Jr.'s The Louisiana Native Guards and more...and more....I finally had to remind myself that I was NOT writing a Civil War epic, and move on.

To better understand what happened in Missouri during and after the Civil War and the War's (and the railroads') effects upon those who suffered through those hard times, I found T. J. Stiles' Jesse James: Last Rebel of the Civil War and Edward E. Leslie's The Devil Knows How to Ride: The True Story of William Clarke Quantrill and His Confederate Raiders very useful.

Roy Marcot's Civil War Chief of Sharpshooters Hiram Berdan: Military Commander and Firearms Inventor introduced me to Berdan's Sharpshooters, and the slim volume The Confederate Whitworth Sharpshooters by John Anderson Morrow provided insight, as did many other books and people. As an aside, R. L. Wilson's Silk and Steel was quite enlightening and might provide food for thought for anyone who believes the "weaker s.e.x" and firearms don't mix. For information on the D&RG and the building and running of railroads in general, I relied heavily on Robert Athearn's The Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad, Stephen E. Ambrose's Nothing Like It in the World, David Hayward Bain's Empire Express, and Margaret Coel's Goin' Railroading.

Now, to the generals. There is plenty written about Ulysses S. Grant, but what about General William Jackson Palmer? Who was this man, who was raised a Philadelphia Quaker, became a Civil War general, and founded the Rio Grande as well as the city of Colorado Springs in Colorado? The readable A Builder of the West by John Fisher gave me the clues I needed. Every life has its shadows, and all I needed was something dark enough to hold a bit of mystery. I found it in an account of an incident that took place at the end of the War, with a young unnamed boy-all of 15-who took a potshot at General Palmer and missed.

Other "real-life" people who walk through these pages include D&RG chief engineer J. A. McMurtrie, and Marshal Cy Ayres. Their treatment in Iron Ties is purely fictional. (Although I have to say that what bits I found about McMurtrie indicated that he was a fellow not to be trifled with.) As for the rest of the story, I took a broad paintbrush to some of the events and situations of the times. There was indeed a big mining strike in May and early June 1880. After the D&RG determined a location for their depot and freight yards, the good Sisters of Charity did indeed receive threats from "lot jumpers" anxious to move in on the lot housing St. Vincent's Hospital and make a killing. And some property owners north of Capitol Hill dug in their heels and refused to sell to the Rio Grande. Laying of track through town stopped, and Grant detrained not at the depot as hoped and planned, but at the foot of Third Street. Leadville did have a thriving charcoal business that suffered due to the coming of the railroads (albeit much later in time than indicated here), and certain transportation businesses-stage lines and haul companies-took hits from the railroad's coming as well.

These were exciting times in Leadville's history, with more excitement yet to come, so stay tuned.

GLOSSARY.

blasting cap: A small tube filled with detonating substances; used to detonate high explosives.

card shark: A professional cheater at cards.

cardsharp: One who habitually cheats at cards.

eminent domain: A term applied in law to the sovereign right of a state to appropriate private property to public uses, whether the owner consents or not. (From Encyclopedia Britannica, 1911) fishplate: Metal plate bolted along sides of two rails or beams.

gandy dancer: A laborer in a railroad section gang.

giant powder: Dynamite composed of nitroglycerin and kieselguhr (a siliceous earth used to absorb the nitroglycerin).

percussion cap: A thin metal cap containing an explosive substance, such as fulminate of mercury, that explodes on being struck.

road agent: A highwayman in the mountain districts of North America. (And my favorite definition:) The name applied in the mountains to a ruffian who has given up honest work in the store, in the mine, in the ranch, for the perils and profits of the highway. (From Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, 1898) rolling stock: The wheeled vehicles owned and used by a railroad or motor carrier.

end.