The Untimely Death and Afterlife of Captain James Munroe

By Mary Nation

A writer inherits an old home in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Plumas County but finds it it's still occupied. The occupant, the restless spirit of a United States Army Captain who was ordered to lead a detachment of Cherokee on a forced removal to Oklahoma in 1838. Named Munroe-Who-Can-Not-Die by an old medicine woman, court martialed for a traitor and deserter and hanged as a result of prejudicial justice, he's waited 158 years to clear his name by telling his story; the story of an immoral and illegal campaign to exterminate the native people of North America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496900784

Mary Nation

Mary Nation lives in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with her supersized 11 year-old German shepherd, Cisco who is, coincidentally, a seriously trained Nap Dog, skilled in the arts of lolling about uselessly, excessive, high pitched whining to illicit back massages as well as being able to lick himself in places that are impossible for even the most limber of humans. Miss Nation is the proud mother of 26 year-old daughter who is extremely well-educated, intelligent and highly skilled in several thrill-seeking adventures that have taken several years, if not decades, off her mother’s life. Miss Nation has a Bachelor’s Degree in English from the University of San Diego in duh, like San Diego dude (Hey Sr. Hotz), a Master’s Degree in Criminal Justice with an emphasis in Public Safety from Cappella University in Minneapolis, and an Honorary Degree from the University of Saint Blarney’s in general BS with an emphasis in Parental Guilt Management (PGM) (Yes. I made that up). Her parents are, to say the least, very proud.

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2014 Mary Nation. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/07/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-0080-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-0079-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-0078-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014906112

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

All names, characters, incidents and places in this are either a product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events or locales are entirely coincidental and/or used in a fictitious manner only.

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

TO ALL MY FAMILY AND ALL my friends who supported me in this or at any time. It made me the person I am. Before anyone starts pointing any fingers, no one is to blame. (At least not anyone in particular. It was more a group effort.)

CHAPTER 1

INDIAN VALLEY, CALIFORNIA, 5 AUGUST, 1855

Captain James Munroe lay on his cot, hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles. Appearing relaxed, he rolled a small stick between his teeth, guiding it from one side of this wide mouth to the other. His room was a brick jail cell situated approximately twenty feet behind a tiny courthouse where a large oak tree hung low over the top of the cell, creating a cooling shade from the summer heat. One high window let in light in the latter part of the day as the sun was setting in the west. Across from him, sitting in a chair with his elbow on a high, small wooden table, chin in hand, was his friend, his only friend and cousin, Major Daniel Stuart.

You could have kept a lower profile… so to speak, said Daniel dryly.

What were the odds, right, replied James with a chuckle.

You think this is a laughing matter? They’ll hang you if they can. They’ll have a whole legal team here to prove you were aiding escapees. Whether it’s the truth or not, this court will have brass breathing down their necks to hang you. Daniel stood up suddenly and appeared to begin to pace the cell. Finding it too small he grabbed the side of the table and flipped it over in anger.

You’re gonna bring that ass of a sheriff in here if you don’t calm down, whispered James as he sat up quickly. I’m just saying it was incredibly ironic that history would repeat itself. It’s almost like it was…

What? Preordained? Is that what THIS was, hissed Daniel as quietly as possible, pointing to the bars in the high window.

James looked at him calmly. Exhaling a sigh he took the stick out of his mouth. Maybe, he said and placed the small stick back in his teeth. Daniel stood above him staring in disbelief. Eyes locked with Daniels narrowed ones, James grabbed his pillow and putting it behind his back, leaned against the wall, drawing one leg up to hook his boot on the frame of the cot. Daniel dropped into the chair opposite him, dumbstruck at the complacent attitude his cousin presented when faced with almost certain execution.

Hey, said Daniel quickly, how about just letting me put a bullet in you now, right now, I mean, since you want it so bad ’n all. I put a bullet in you, you get what you want… DEAD right? I’ll most likely receive a commendation, decorated ’n such. It’s brilliant, continued Daniel and he rose from the chair again, pacing the small space, arms extended and lowered so many times James thought he might fly away. He began chuckling at his cousin, head down.

"And the really great part of this is that the army gets a traitor and deserter to execute and make a huge example of. DAMN BOY, you’re right. Brilliant. EVER’BODY GETS WHAT THEY WANT! WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY?

You are, said James looking up from under dark brows, unable to prevent a wry grin.

Daniel dropped heavily into the chair again. His face and limbs seem to sink at one time, causing James to have pangs of guilt for provoking him.

Dan, calm down. Nothing is funny about this. I know that. But in a way, I do think it might have had some… I don’t know… guidance from an unseen source maybe.

Yes, of course. Unseen source, replied Daniel, eyes wide, nodding his head quickly.

I wouldn’t have done anything different, said James, leaning forward placing his elbows on this thighs and ruffling his hair, relieving his scalp of an itch. That day in the barn…, James began before Dan cut him off.

Don’t think about that.’’

I’m sorry I couldn’t…

You were ten years old. I never should’ve asked you. I don’t know what I was thinking.

It changed you. You can’t deny it. But you were bravest person I ever knew.

Yeah, Dan exhaled and dropped his head in defeat. Silence passed between them for a few minutes while each went over that day in their minds. It had been more than 30 years and both of them wore that day on their souls like a stiff suit of armor.

God, I just wanna take a decent bath, he sighed as he raised his head.

You could use a haircut and a shave too, Dan said out of the side of his mouth.

So what’s my legal defense got cooked up?

The truth, what else is there?

That’s a start. Anything else?

Throw yourself on the mercy of the court.

Brilliant defense. Well, now that that’s settled, said James, rubbing his hands together, how about some supper? Best damn gruel in town.

I’m working on it. You were obviously defending yourself and I have to prove that, but without any eyewitnesses, except yourself, I’ll have little success with that. Dan recalled the statement first given by his cousin. Who documented the events?

Captain G. S. Drane, replied James, emphasizing each syllable with hostility. I haven’t had the pleasure of reading it but I’m told it’s more of a commentary than the documentation of a crime scene.

Who told you that? If he was there he could corroborate your story, at least what the scene of the original crime was like.

Private John Rhea, real young man, maybe 16 or 17 when it happened.

"Are there any others we could call to testify on your behalf?

Probably not without retribution from Drane, said James suddenly exasperated. Besides it’s been 17 years. Do you really think I have even the slightest chance?

It’s all we got right now and I’m not letting you die, he said, staring into his cousin’s haggard face and sunken eyes, as you seem so determined to do. I’m going to get us a real dinner. You look like hell, said Dan, getting up quickly. He went to the window in the door and yelled for the guard. I’ll be back with some real food. We got a lot to talk about.

As he walked away James could hear his cousin arguing with the guard on the quality of food provided prisoners in the local jail, implying it’s nutritional value was not fit for bovine, to which the illiterate guard said no prisoner has yet died from the food and is plenty fit for whatever kinda prisoner we git.

*     *     *

Lying on his cot, two weeks after his General Courts Martial, Captain James Munroe, formerly of the United States Army, attempted to comfort his cousin.

You knew this would happen, James told him in a low voice. We both did. You’re not to blame for what happened in there. They were never going to let us get close to Rhea. Showing them that affidavit only gave them reason to get him killed in yet another war with the Seminoles. Now I have that on my conscience as well. He was… decent."

Dan sat with his head in his hands, fingers gripping the thick dark hair tightly. He looked up quickly, eyes wide and sunken from hours of legal maneuvering. Oh my God James, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about that. His voice, low and hoarse cracked with the strain of emotion.

James put his arm out and rested his hand on Dan’s shoulder. Leaning in, he looked in to his eyes. Dan, I think what got him sent to that Indian slaughter was the fact that he was in the Army first and by his account of the events and scene, appeared to side with the Cherokee on the issue. I don’t think he’d hold it against either one of us. Well, maybe you, but not me. Daniel’s brow wrinkled as one corner of his mouth drew back.

Everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it, he said quietly, dropping his head back into his hands.

Dan, pleaded James, it was inevitable and you know it. So many of those records are classified for a reason. The whole campaign from the beginning against the Indians has been horrific to say the least. Jackson spit on the Supreme Court and the Constitution with the Indian Removal Act in the first place and everyone knew it would come to this. If our own president had no intention of upholding the Constitution what made you think some greedy whites would. Anyway, said James, leaning back against the pillow on his cot and drawing up his leg, I considered it my duty. That will never change and I kinda feel good about that. No regrets. If I hadn’t done it I knew I would regret it and I could never live with that. James looked over at his cousin holding his head in his hands, not looking at him.

‘No regrets for what? Dan asked, lifting his head. Suddenly he saw his best friend, his blood really, become almost radiant in his exhaustion. He noticed his eyes gleamed again with untold mischief, they way the did when they were boys getting into trouble, or when they were at school together pulling pranks on the Clios. He was hoping the crazy son of a bitch was hatching a fool proof plan of escape.

Dan, I’m goanna die, James said on cue as if he knew what Daniel was thinking. Dan’s face went slack. They way he said it was so matter-of-fact, no hesitation in his clear, low voice. I just don’t want to be alone when it happens. Will you be with me?

You don’t even have to ask. He said, looking up into James’s face. I’ve also resigned my commission and I’ll be moving here. I have the money and gold, it was where you said it was. I employed an attorney to purchase the property for me just to avoid any more prejudices. He’ll purchase the property for the JD & Sons Furniture Company.

Who are they? James asked, hoping that Daniel would live in the house.

James Daniel, replied Dan, You know you and me. Hey, I took second billing, isn’t that enough?

James smiled his mischievous grin. One last, everlasting prank, before he goes. This time they were pranking the US Government.

Love it. Really love it, chuckled James as he leaned back into his cot.

His name is William King, Esq. and he’ll be here tomorrow. He’s checking into a hotel in Quincy and he’ll stay there until the auction of your property so there’s no suspicions. His excuse is that he’s here on doctor’s orders to improve his health with mountain air. He saw the property and knew of a client that would be interested and will purchase it on his behalf. I’ll be there to make sure everything goes smoothly. Then I’ll take the train back to New York and come back with my personal things in a few months. By that time any semblance of Army occupation should be gone. Any nice girls to marry out here that I should know about? Dan droned on as if it was a normal conversation.

Wouldn’t you like to know, laughed James. Soon they were both laughing and thinking how insane and well-planned, at the same time, the whole situation was.

As the laughter in them died down they looked intently at each other. Each thought the other more haggard looking than himself, their faces carrying the weight of sorrow even before it happened.

Two days, huh? asked James.

Yup, two days. replied Dan. He looked up quickly and reached for his cousin’s arm. Grabbing his sleeve tight and bunching into his fist he meant to say something and then words failed him as his eyes began to mist and mouth draw firm and tight.

Are you about to tell me I have to get right with the Lord or something, blurted James, attempting to dispel the sorrow overcoming both of them.

Even if you tried, He wouldn’t believe you, stammered Dan as he attempted to make light of the situation as well. But I think what you did on the trail, and this last stand as well should bring you as close to God as a sinner could get, he added, becoming at once serious.

Thanks Dan, I needed to hear that.

*     *     *

Tuesday, 21 August, 1855 began hot. The air was so still the voices of passersby could be heard like an echo. The sound of horses flicking their tails to scatter flies and even the drone of bugs all over the high mountain valley became a song on the wind. As he dressed in a freshly cleaned pair of black slacks and white shirt, compliments of Dan, he thought to himself that it was so hot the night before and it kept him awake through the night. He thought about everything he did, everywhere he went, all the people he met, especially here, and figured it was okay to stay awake all night since he was just about to go to sleep forever depending on whose version of the afterlife was the real one.

He decided for his last meal he would order hotcakes, potatoes, eggs, steak, biscuits and lots of beer. Dan was permitted to join him at his last meal, a breakfast, and he wanted to make it a good one considering he would never be able to invite him to a meal again. Or at least not in this life.

‘Why did I just think that,’ he thought to himself. He was thinking a lot about the afterlife now that it was so close. He didn’t tell his cousin about it simply because he thought it would upset him. Dan seemed to be taking it harder than himself. Dan had been reading Rauch’s A View of the Human Soul and appeared to want to psychoanalyze everything he said or did. Today wasn’t like that though. Today, Dan made himself be in good spirits as he sat down to breakfast with James.

This is something, exclaimed Dan, looking at the table, laden with delicious food. Apparently, many of the townsfolk, mostly women and Indian, which figured quite appropriately to Dan, had brought everything at no cost to the government. He was a hero, a dark, tall and handsome knight on a white horse come to rescue them, Indian and white women alike.

Sooo, said Dan, the hint of an accusation in his tone, make a lot of friends here, did you, of the female persuasion?

James laughed, You know me, I love the ladies. Both men erupting in laughter so loud the guard came to peek in the window to check.

Don’t mind us, Dan barked when the illiterate guard showed his face. We’re just losing our minds, he said through his laughter.

The guard gave them a scowl and left causing both men to erupt in laughter again. As inappropriate as it might seem they continued laughing until they ran out of breath.

By the way, Dan said suddenly. A friend of yours, native man, gave me what he called tobacco to give to you. He didn’t give me his name but said you liked this kind of tobacco so much the last time he smoked it with you and thought it might help ease your spirit before your journey. It looks like it molded though so you might not want to smoke it.

James looked up at him quickly and immediately grinned from ear to ear. As Dan looked at him suspiciously he took a small wooden pipe out of his pocket and said, He told me to tell you to smoke it in this new pipe he made you, handing the pipe over. James held it in his hands, staring at it and running his thumb along the carving of an osprey head.

He also said you were a good fisherman like this bird.

James turned the pipe over and over in his hands remembering the fishing and scouting they did together. It was the happiest moments of his life in this valley that never lost its beauty even after being overrun by greedy gold miners. Dan could see James was somewhere else in his mind and attempted to draw him out.

So what kind of tobacco looks like that and smells like a skunk? Daniel asked.

James stood up, having finished all that he could eat for the time being. Join me and you’ll find out, he said with an evil glint in his eye.

Why do I think I’ll be sorry later, Daniel stated rather than asked.

James pulled a large pinch of the smelly tobacco and stuffed it into the homemade pipe. Getting it lit, he took a long draw off the end of the pipe, closing his eyes and holding his breath. After what seemed an eternity, he let out his breath, a pungent odor accompanying a large cloud of smoke.

"Light it, take a large draw expanding