Chapter 51
The End of the Express and a New Opportunity
Zack was home!
It was hard to get used to. Every time I stopped to realize it, a wave of joy swept over me.
It seemed as if life ought to stop, but it never did. There was still a war going on in the East, plots and counterplots in the West. Pa still had to keep going to Sacramento . . . and there was still Cal.
The very next morning, Pa came upon Zack with soap all over his face. “What in tarnation are you doing?” he exclaimed.
“Shaving off my beard, Pa.”
“What in thunder for?”
“I figured if I’m going to come back to civilization, I ought to look civilized. Besides. I figured you’d want it off.”
“Well, you figured wrong. I like it!”
“You do?”
“Sure I do. Makes you look like me when I was your age.”
“You want me to keep it?”
“Well, it’s up to you, son. But I sure think a man’s beard looks good on you.”
“Okay, Pa,” said Zack with a smile. He couldn’t have been more pleased!
In mid-October a letter came to me, in an envelope from the office of the governor of California. My heart skipped. I was sure it was from Cal, but I was mistaken. I can’t imagine a letter from such an important person as the governor being a disappointment, but I have to admit that one was.
Dear Miss Hollister,
I apologize to seem to be always asking you favors. But when a man in my position discovers a person who is loyal and competent, with a handsomeness and intelligence to match, he does not find it easy to replace her. So I am coming to you cap in hand to once again ask for your help in a matter of extreme importance to the future of our nation. As you know, the soldiers of the Union have grave needs, and we of California are doing everything we can to help them. A major fund-raising effort is underway, led by my friend and yours, Mr. King, in order to raise and send to President Lincoln’s forces as much cash and gold as possible. California, as I’m sure you can appreciate, stands in a unique position to be able to help in this regard.
It is my hope that you will consider allowing me to appoint you co-chairwoman of a new organization which is being formed to work alongside Mr. King’s efforts, to be called California Women for the Union, and whose principal activity will be raising funds for the Federal troops. Your name is one that is recognized and respected among the women of this state, and your efforts on behalf of the Union will, I am certain, not go unnoticed.
I am, your humble servant,
LELAND STANFORD
Governor
A hastily added note was attached to the letter. It said, “As always, my faithful Cal Burton has told me he will help you in this assignment in any way which might be beneficial to you. I look forward to hearing from you. LS.”
I hardly knew what it would involve, but how could I not accept? I did want to help the Union. And when somebody as important as the governor asks for help, it seemed my patriotic duty to say yes. I wrote back the next day saying I would do it, but said that he would have to make sure somebody told me what was expected of me. I was willing, I said, but totally ignorant of what the appointment might entail.
In the meantime, another major event in the life of the country was taking place. It had nothing to do with the war, but, because of Zack, and because of what Pa and I had been through, it came a little closer to home.
The Pony Express was about to go out of business after just eighteen months in operation.
The Pony Express had never made a profit for Russell, Majors, and Waddell. They had from the beginning hoped for government financial help but never received it. Once the war began, the amount of mail had dwindled, since many army troops were transferred from the West back to the East, and the army had been a heavy user of the mail services. But on October 24, 1861, something else happened that made the eight to ten days to take news from coast to coast eight to ten days too long. Suddenly the Pony Express was no longer the fastest way to transmit news.
On that day, in Salt Lake City, two teams that had been working from California and Nebraska for six months met and joined the telegraph wires they had been stringing up across the country. The instant those wires were connected, Washington and San Francisco were able to communicate directly with each other over nearly three thousand miles—not in days but in minutes!
Unfortunately for him, Governor Stanford was away at the time. But in his place the Chief Justice of California sent this message to President Lincoln along the new telegraph wires:
In the temporary absence of the Governor of the State, I am requested to send you the first message which will be transmitted over the wires of the telegraph line which connects the Pacific with the Atlantic states. The people of California desire to congratulate you upon the completion of this great work. They believe that it will be the means of strengthening the attachment which binds both the East and West to the Union, and they desire in this—my first message across the continent—to express their loyalty to the Union and their determination to stand by its Government in this, its day of trial. They regard that Government with affection and will adhere to it under all fortunes.
The riders of the Pony Express had ridden well over half a million miles. Only one rider had been killed by Indians, although a number of station attendants had lost their lives. Only one pack of mail was lost. Whatever its financial losses, in many other ways it had been a great success. But two days after the completion of the telegraph, the Pony Express officially discontinued its service.
All across the country, and especially in California, there were articles of praise and tribute for the Pony Express, now that it was gone. The Alta printed several, too. I had written a story about my experience with Pa at Tavish’s station earlier, but now I wished I could have written one of these tributes. Mr. Kemble would have let me, but I wasn’t a good enough writer to do the kind of articles that were being written. In November, in the Sacramento Bee, for example, one tribute read:
Farewell, Pony: Farewell and forever, thou staunch, wilderness-overcoming, swift-footed messenger. Thou wert the pioneer of the continent in the rapid transmission of intelligence between its peoples, and have dragged in your train the lightning itself, which, in good time, will be followed by steam communication by rail. Rest upon your honors; be satisfied with them; your destiny has been fulfilled—a new and higher power has superseded you.
This is no disgrace, for flesh and blood cannot always war against the elements. Rest, then, in peace; for thou hast run thy race, thou has followed thy course, thou has done the work that was given thee to do.