1882: Custer in Chains (7 page)

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Authors: Robert Conroy

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More important, the Spanish warships had escorted several transports that were disgorging a large number of soldiers. A second convoy, this one escorted by the cruisers, would dock tomorrow or the next day.

Salazar was practically giddy with happiness and pride. “I hope you do not take offense, Kendrick, but you will see how the pride of Spain will crush the United States.”

“It is very impressive indeed. I wonder how long it will take for President Custer to find out about this.”

Salazar laughed. “I would say about ten minutes. The telegraph lines between here and Florida must be burning up. If you’d like, you can write a story about your impressions and I’ll see to it that it is given priority.”

“Would you want to clear it first?”

“Of course not. There’s not much to hide, is there?”

Kendrick agreed. He didn’t add that the two Spanish battleships were on the small side in comparison with most of the battleships of the Royal Navy. Nor did he add that the U.S. was attempting to buy some British ships of roughly similar size. He was fairly certain that the Spanish knew all about it. He now believed the rumors that Spain was attempting to buy warships from France were true.

Salazar took his arm. “Come, we shall go back to my home and have a good meal along with some excellent wine, perhaps a lot of excellent wine. I will introduce you to my family and you will see that I am not a total barbarian, merely a devoted Spanish patriot.”

Yes, Kendrick thought, and a Spanish patriot who murders prisoners and slaughters innocent Cubans. In preparing for the trip, he’d done some more homework on Salazar and found a number of stories in which his personal army had killed numbers of Cubans that he’d arbitrarily named as insurgents.

It occurred to him that Salazar might just become an embarrassment to the Spanish government. But not just yet, he thought.

* * *

Ryder laughed at the surprise on Sarah’s face. “It’s true. Since we’re at war, President Custer no longer wishes to be called president. He’d directed everyone to call him general.”

“That is incredibly pretentious.”

“Agreed, but I’m not going to be the one to tell him. I like being a full colonel. Perhaps I’ll even become a general before this is over.”

“How many would have to die for that to happen?”

He winced at the thought. These men were either his friends or those he respected. “Only a couple.”

They were seated on a couch in the living room of her country house. It had belonged to her late husband and, she’d informed him, it had six bedrooms on two levels. Even more important, her husband had installed indoor plumbing and a means for having hot flowing water. It occurred to Ryder that her husband must have truly loved her.

On her own, she had installed a sanitation device called a septic tank that had recently been invented in France.

Sarah had a staff that consisted of a cook, a woman who kept the house clean and did the laundry, a gardener, and a man who looked after the animals, including the horses and a handful of cows.

“They are all very loyal to me,” she said, then grinned. “Of course they are also very concerned that I’ll remarry and they’ll be out of a job. This is at least partly why they are protective of me and very concerned about any man I see.”

“And how many men do you see?” he teased.

“Not as many as you might think. I’m afraid I’ve discouraged most of them. They all seem to think that I would be happier and much better off if only I would let them handle my wealth, and that is simply not going to happen. I know that some men in business are shocked to find that they are dealing with a woman and others simply refuse to, but enough are concerned only with making a profit that I’m able to function. When things get difficult, I generally use my father or my brother as a go-between. They are both listed as vice presidents in my company.”

“Are you implying that you don’t think I’m after your money?”

She reached over and tapped him on the arm. “I’m usually a good judge of character and, no, I don’t think you’d try to seduce me for my wealth.”

She stood and walked to the window. “So now can you tell me when you’re leaving for Cuba?”

“It’s still vague and subject to change, but a couple of weeks at the most,” he said softly, and he saw sadness in her face.

He stood by her at the window and she put her head on his shoulder. He would not tell her that his regiment was going to be the spearhead of the invasion. She didn’t need that worry. Then it dawned on him that she actually would be worried.

* * *

Secretary of State James G. Blaine was convinced that someday he would be President of the United States, replacing George Armstrong Custer, the man he considered to be a flaming horse’s ass. Blaine was also convinced of America’s future in the world. The United States would become an even greater power than she currently was and the only way to do that was to explode beyond the limitations of her continental boundaries. Thus, the first steps in developing an overseas American empire involved taking Cuba and Puerto Rico from the rotten Spanish empire.

When those lands became under American control, it would be time to look farther afield, to such places as the Philippines, or Hawaii, or even lands near the Isthmus of Panama where a canal might someday be built. Since everyone in Europe was taking chunks out of China’s carcass, he thought that an American equivalent to Hong Kong on the Chinese coast might be feasible.

Blaine sighed. He was thinking big, perhaps too big. First Cuba had to be taken. Thus, this day he was quietly and secretly meeting with a representative of the Cuban insurgents.

“Señor Cardanzo,” he said with a look of warmth he didn’t feel. “It’s a pleasure to meet with a representative of those also fighting Spain.”

Cardanzo was a small dark man in his forties. Blaine was not comfortable dealing with black men as equals and Cardanzo sensed it.

“I’m proud and honored to meet you, Mr. Blaine. Now, to be blunt, how can we help each other?”

Good, Blaine thought, let’s get this over with. “We need information, and you and others in your movement are in a position to provide it. We would like to know the disposition of the Spanish army and the strength of the Spanish defenses.”

Cardanzo was puzzled. “Why are you asking this and not representatives of your army or navy?”

“Let’s just say that our intelligence-gathering resources are not what they should be. Also, I am in a position to offer you something after the Spanish are expelled.”

Cardanzo smiled. “Independence?”

“Perhaps in a while, a very short while, we would be able to support Cuban independence. We would have to remain in charge to ensure a peaceful turnover to the Cuban population.”

“Would you feel that way if we were white?”

“Your candor is appreciated and you are correct. If you and your compatriots were white we would not have many of the concerns we have. Let’s face it, Mr. Cardanzo, the only successful nations in the world today are those governed by white people. If you want to see what could happen if unprepared non-whites are in charge, you have to look no farther than the bloodbaths that took place in Haiti and the constant revolutions that are occurring in those Central and South American nations that were once the property of Spain.”

Cardanzo was not impressed by that logic. “You realize, of course, that if the tyranny of Spain is replaced by the tyranny of the United States, there will be continued fighting.”

Blaine leaned back in his chair. “Is that a threat, sir?”

“Hardly. My people would not ever want to fight their liberators. But it could be a statement of reality. My people want independence, not simply a change. However, being controlled by America would be far better than being the enslaved property of Spain. Yes, we will provide you with what information we can glean and we will trust you to do what is right for the people of Cuba. After all, I’m certain that you would not want an army in Cuba during the fever season. Thousands of your soldiers would likely die if that should happen.”

“Wouldn’t that happen to the Spanish army?”

“Of course, Mr. Blaine, but Spain doesn’t care about the poor creatures in its army, while the United States does.”

With that they shook hands and Cardanzo departed. He had barely left the room when Blaine muttered “nigger” under his breath.

Outside, Cardanzo met with a couple of his compatriots. “It is as I feared,” he said. “The United States wants us to be their colony. The only question is for how long. Forever is a possibility. But waiting for a new president to be elected and replace Custer is more likely. If we make it difficult for the Americans, perhaps they will let us go sooner. First, they have to defeat the Spanish and we will help them. Then, if necessary, we will deal with the Americans just as we are now dealing with Spain.”

* * *

Master Sergeant Haney spoke very little Spanish. Thus, he was somewhat surprised when he was chosen by Colonel Ryder to scout the lands and bays near the city of Matanzas.

He was slipped into Cuba by a small and foul smelling fishing boat. When he got off in the middle of the night, he was greeted by another man who told him in surprisingly good English that his name was Diego. Diego added that he was a member of the rebellion, which Haney hoped was the case. If not and he was a Spanish army officer, Haney was likely to spend several years in a miserable prison if he wasn’t hanged outright. What happened to the men of the
Eldorado
was on everyone’s mind.

Diego led him inland, carefully staying off the dirt paths he called roads. “I think this is want you want to see,” he said as they breasted a gentle hill just a mile or two inland from the city.

Haney nodded and looked around. The hill was only a few hundred feet high. It wasn’t much of a vantage point, but it would do. From it he could see the city of Matanzas itself. He estimated the population at about ten thousand. The bay looked like it could handle a number of good-sized ships, but it also looked like it was silting up. That, he concluded, would severely limit the number and size of ships that could unload at any one time.

He also wondered why the Navy hadn’t sent someone along with him. He’d asked that question when Colonel Ryder suggested that he volunteer and was told that the Navy was too busy trying to round up ships to spend time scouting inland Cuba. They said it was the Army’s business.

“I don’t see any fortifications,” Haney said. Even though it was night, the moon and stars allowed him to see that the land was undisturbed. What he assumed were sugar cane and tobacco were growing in fields, but no entrenchments or cannons could be seen.

“That’s because there aren’t any. All the work being done to protect Cuba is happening just outside Havana. There they are digging in like beavers, building fortifications that will stop any army. I understand the Spanish are now bitterly regretting tearing down Havana’s defensive walls only a few years ago. Little places like Matanzas have been left to their own devices.”

Haney didn’t like hearing about the fortifications around Havana, but his job was to scout out the Matanzas area. “Are you telling me there are no troops here?”

Diego laughed. “Of course there are soldiers, just not too many of them. I estimate several companies, perhaps a battalion. You should be able to crush them when you attack.”

Haney was too much of a realist to accept such optimistic estimates. After all, hadn’t Custer said the Indians would run when the Seventh Cavalry approached? Unconsciously he rubbed a scar on his shoulder where a Sioux arrow had stuck in his flesh. He still remembered the pain when a surgeon pulled it out.

Haney was about to comment when he heard voices. They were close and getting closer. Shit, he thought. The two men quickly tried to make themselves invisible in the dark.

Three Spanish soldiers passed them only a few feet away. They were talking loudly and not paying much attention to the world around them. Garrison duty and going out on the occasional patrol were not too arduous despite the war, Haney concluded.

He was about to exhale and thank their lucky stars when Diego suddenly screamed, bolted from his hiding place, and slashed at one of the soldiers with his machete, ripping the man’s throat.

The wounded soldier fell while the other two wheeled in disbelief. Christ, thought Haney. What the hell had just happened? He pulled his revolver and a Bowie knife and joined in the assault. Diego was wrestling with a second soldier while the third tried to bring his rifle to bear. Haney plunged his knife into the belly of the third and ripped upwards. The man screamed and fell back. Haney waited until he had a chance and then used the handle of his revolver to crack the skull of the man wrestling with Diego. He hit the man several more times before the soldier let go and went limp. Haney checked to see if any were alive. None were. Even the man he’d stabbed had stopped breathing and was gazing at the night sky with blank eyes.

Diego staggered to his feet. He was covered with blood, but most of it wasn’t his. “Thank you, my friend. You saved my life.”

Haney wiped his knife on the shirt of one of the dead soldiers. “Yeah, and your bullshit action might have gotten us killed.”

“You are right,” he said contritely. “But when I saw their uniforms I couldn’t help myself. They are from a regiment formed and led by Gilberto Salazar. They are the ones who massacred your fellow Americans on that ship. More important to me, they are the devils who slaughter Cubans they think are rebels just because they are wandering and looking for food. A while back, they killed my sister, but not until many soldiers abused her. When the soldiers were through with her, they cut her throat and left her to bleed to death on the ground. She was fourteen.”

“I’m very sorry,” said Haney as he looked around nervously, “but these guys’ comrades are going to be looking for them very soon. You better get me back to that dinky boat so I can get the hell out of here.”

“You’re right that we must move, but there is no hurry. They won’t be missed for several hours and we will be many miles from here by then.”

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