Westward the Dream (20 page)

“Lincoln frees slaves!” a newspaperboy called out. “Get your paper and read all about it!”

Brenton heard the boy and tried to imagine the impact of the statement. Maneuvering through the crowded street, Brenton handed the boy a coin and took a copy of the paper. He had nearly forgotten the emancipation was to become official that very month. It was a wonderful way to bring in a new year.

“The emancipation of southern slaves substantiates once and for all President Lincoln's desire to lead this nation into an establishment of free men.”

Despite Brenton's support of the president's action, he wondered what it would mean to the war itself. Brenton shook his head. Surely Lincoln knew that by issuing an emancipation proclamation for the slaves, he was ensuring that the war would not be easily concluded. The southern states, whose very nature disallowed for so much as a consolidated uniform for their troops or a focused plan for their future, would never be dictated to by a man they already hated and perceived as the enemy. Lincoln could issue all the proclamations he liked, but it wouldn't change the hearts of the southern loyalists.

22

The balmy January day drew citizens from every walk into the glorious California sunshine. Sacramento was alive with activity, as any capital city might be, but on this particular day the normal pace was even more pronounced. Today they were celebrating the breaking of ground for the Central Pacific Railroad, and all of heaven seemed to be smiling upon their efforts.

It was perhaps a bit pretentious, and definitely premature, considering the sluggish progress of the actual building, but celebrating the Central Pacific was a much-needed focal point for the masses. Breaking ground on the railroad that would make its way east to defeat the granite barrier of the Sierra Nevadas and join the Union Pacific was something worthy of every citizen's attention. Most of the revelers had come to California from other parts of the country, but many of the children who joined in the celebration were native, the first generation of Americans born in this isolated state. The railroad was their future—their destiny—as it was every citizen's.

Kiernan and Victoria found the entire matter a strange reminder of their lives in days gone by. Both had been on hand for the celebration of the opening of the Kingwood Tunnel in Virginia, and both had shared in the revelry of the B&O reaching completion. Breaking ground on a new railroad seemed to offer every bit as much enthusiasm as concluding one, and the memories were acute.

“They have no idea what they're up against,” Kiernan said as he led Victoria past the swollen Sacramento River and farther up Front Street to where the speeches were about to be issued.

“No doubt that's true.” Victoria lifted her skirts a little higher to avoid the worst of the muddy roadway. “But neither did my parents, nor you or any of the others who dreamed of a railroad reaching from Baltimore to the Ohio River.”

Kiernan nodded. “Sometimes not knowing is more a mercy than a harm.”

Glancing around, Kiernan spied crowds of women positioned on the second-floor balconies of many of the Front Street businesses. Some were clapping along in time with the patriotic marches of a local band. Others simply waved flags and cheered the passersby. He couldn't resist a smile. This day would certainly go down in the annals of the town's history.

Up ahead, near the American Exchange Hotel, a horse-drawn cart stood ready and waiting for the celebration. Draped in bunting and filled with dirt, the side was decorated with a banner that read “May the Bond Be Eternal.”

Kiernan found a place for them to watch, just as Charlie Crocker, Ted Judah, Mark Hopkins, and California's governor, Leland Stanford, mounted the steps to the speakers' stand.

“Hey, Charlie!” a man called out, and several voices raised in cheer.

Charles Crocker was extremely personable, and it was probably for this reason that he had been chosen to introduce the governor and start the festivities. A large, robust man, he smiled and waved to his many friends, then raised his arms as a signal to still the crowd. They quieted as their beloved Charlie came forward to address them.

Kiernan knew very little of California's young governor. He listened with an attentive ear as Crocker spoke of Stanford's strong support for the Central Pacific Railroad. He praised the dark-haired man, whose six-foot height and commanding presence brought Kiernan an immediate sense that this was a man who knew how to take charge. Of course, Charlie himself was no slacker in that area. In fact, all of the men positioned on the speakers' platform were men of power and vision. It made Kiernan feel rather insignificant.

“I give you the governor of this fair state, the Honorable Leland Stanford.”

The crowd cheered wildly as the bearded Stanford came to take his place at the podium.

“Fellow citizens,” he began. “I congratulate you upon the commencement of this great work—” Cheers rose up to drown out his next words, and Kiernan could only guess at what was being said. He'd heard these types of speeches many times over, some with the building of the C&O Canal, others with the B&O Railroad. They were always pretty much the same. Words of encouragement, praise, and vision for the future.

Victoria pressed closer to him as the throngs of people moved into a tighter knot around the speakers' platform. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her near. He felt a sense of pride just having her at his side, but even as this sensation washed over him, he knew the nagging reminder of having been less than the husband she deserved. They seldom shared anything more than a few words in passing or an occasional time of intimacy in the stillness of the night. Their lives were certainly nothing like they had been in the early days of their marriage, and it troubled Kiernan to believe that their previous joy was gone now.

When Stanford finished speaking, a minister came to the platform and began a lengthy prayer, requesting God's guidance and direction for the railroad board as they saw the project through to its goal. Kiernan found himself also praying for guidance and direction. He wanted very much to make Victoria proud to be his wife. He knew she acted distant at times, almost as if she harbored something down deep inside—something she didn't want him to see. He feared it was as simple as her shame of his inability to master what seemed to come easily to other men. Worse yet, he actually found himself afraid that she might regret their marriage. After all, what did she have to show for it?

Still, there were times when she was open and warm, easily reminding him of their early days of courtship and of why they'd fallen in love in the first place. Back then she had clearly admired him and looked to him with pride for the way he conducted himself.

Let her be happy, Lord, he prayed. It was really all he wanted at the moment. Oh, there were other issues—desires for the family he'd left in Ireland, desires for financial security and freedom from worry. But more than anything else, he desired that Victoria find happiness in life. He knew she longed for children, as did he, but he also knew that it was a mixed blessing they were yet unable to conceive. Now that he had agreed to take up employment on the Central Pacific, Kiernan often questioned if their life would be better. Dragging a wife from one mining town to another had been nothing but sheer stupidity on his part. Never mind that his intentions had been honorable. Now he would return to something he felt confident of—the railroad.

He wondered silently as the prayer at the podium continued if Victoria had any idea how the railroad would take up his time. Crocker was already talking about Kiernan and Ted making additional surveys in the mountains. Kiernan knew Victoria would expect to be allowed to come with them, but he wasn't going to let her. He didn't want to risk her getting sick again. After that, the true ground breaking would come to the forefront of their duties, and Kiernan would find himself consumed by long hours of backbreaking labor. It wearied him just thinking about it.

The prayer finally ended, and with it, the decorated cart was drawn forward by equally bedecked horses. Stanford took up a shovel and began tossing dirt into the muddy street below. This was the symbolic ground breaking that the entire city had waited for.

After that, various men made speeches. Senators and representatives addressed the group with compelling words that promised enthusiastic support, while the crowd seemed to eat up every word as though a choice morsel of a gourmet feast. In conclusion, Charlie brought the crowd once again to a momentous round of cheers before dismissing the group to go where they would, taking the memory of the day with them.

“Well, it wasn't much for actual progress,” Kiernan said, swinging Victoria out of the way just as a hearty foursome, singing at the top of their lungs, pushed past.

“Kiernan!” a familiar voice called to him from across the muddy road.

Turning, Kiernan saw Ted Judah making his way to where he and Victoria stood.

“Come to the house. We need to talk,” Ted declared.

Kiernan looked at Victoria, who gave a brief nod of assent.

They made their way to Ted's buggy and allowed him to drive them back to the Judahs' small house. Ted seemed overly quiet, a sharp contrast to the revelry of the day.

“Is something wrong?” Kiernan questioned.

“Not as far as the ‘big four' are concerned.” There was a definite edge to Judah's tone.

“But I was thinkin' that yarself was a part of that number.”

Ted laughed, but it was bitter and harsh. “This entire project has been my dream from the start. I pressed for support. I've given my lifeblood to it, and they treat me like a poor relation.”

“I'm sure I don't understand,” Kiernan said as they came to a halt outside the Judah home.

Ted handed the reins over to his stableman, then motioned for Kiernan and Victoria to follow him into the house. “I'll explain it better once we've sat down to some of Anna's pound cake and coffee.”

“Men can always think more clearly over such refreshment,” Victoria teased as Kiernan lifted her from the buggy.

“Aye, that we can,” Kiernan said, squeezing her hand.

Ted escorted them inside and Anna greeted them with great enthusiasm. “I would have been there today, but Li wasn't feeling well, so I stayed here with her.”

“I hope it's nothing serious,” Victoria said, her voice grave.

“Oh no,” Anna assured her. “At least, not too serious. Li's expecting a baby.”

“But she's just a child herself,” Victoria replied with a pained expression.

Kiernan wondered if the grief on her face was as much for her own childlessness as it was for Li's ill health. It must be hard for Victoria to hear of someone else's blessing.

“She married just last October, as you know. But come, we mustn't spend our time worrying over this,” Anna said, drawing Victoria with her to the kitchen. “Victoria, would you mind helping me serve?”

Kiernan was grateful for the older woman's request. He knew the situation was hard on Victoria and could only pray that Anna would help draw her attention elsewhere.

Ted led the way to the front sitting room and motioned for Kiernan to take a chair. “I fear this railroad may well be nothing more than a dream. My comrades in this scheme seem only interested in luring the freight traffic away from the various teamsters in the area.”

“So yar thinkin' they're only good for the ride so long as there's immediate money to be made?” Kiernan questioned.

“That's one way of putting it.” Ted dropped into a chair and shook his head. “I'm afraid my colleagues may stop at simply seeing a short line put in rather than worrying about connecting to the East. Congress already sees the Central Pacific as a feat bordering on impossible. They gave us the provision that should we master the mountains we might be allowed to build eastward indefinitely—so long as the Union Pacific hasn't yet reached the western edge of the Nevada Territory. They are requiring us to complete fifty miles of road within the next two years and to build at least fifty additional miles per year thereafter. And while the Union Pacific must do twice that, I don't believe our board of directors truly appreciates the circumstances. Collis Huntington has said we have drawn the elephant and must find a way to harness him.”

“Then we'll be havin' to show them,” Kiernan said, trying to lighten the mood of his friend. “I have yet to see an elephant,” he continued, “but surely the beast can be managed in one way or another.”

“I'm just afraid the management might come in the form of trading one beast off for another. With Crocker now set to employ men to build the line, I fear they'll ignore my suggestions altogether and seek another direction.”

“But yar surveys are good, Ted. Congress themselves acknowledged yar help. Ya can't be givin' in to worry over this.”

Just then the women returned with the refreshments. Victoria looked rather red-eyed, and Kiernan wondered if she'd been crying over the issue of Li's baby. How he wished he could make at least this issue in her life right, but again he was helpless.