Vanished Arizona ................................................................................................................................................1

I have written this story of my army life at the urgent and ceaseless request of my children.

For whenever I allude to those early days, and tell to them the tales they have so often heard, they always say:

"Now, mother, will you write these stories for us? Please, mother, do; we must never forget them."

Then, after an interval, "Mother, have you written those stories of Arizona yet?" until finally, with the aid of

some old letters written from those very places (the letters having been preserved, with other papers of mine,

by an uncle in New England long since dead), I have been able to give a fairly connected story.

I have not attempted to commemorate my husband's brave career in the Civil War, as I was not married until

some years after the close of that war, nor to describe the many Indian campaigns in which he took part, nor

to write about the achievements of the old Eighth Infantry. I leave all that to the historian. I have given

simply the impressions made upon the mind of a young New England woman who left her comfortable home

in the early seventies, to follow a second lieutenant into the wildest encampments of the American army.

Hoping the story may possess some interest for the younger women of the army, and possibly for some of our

The appendix to this, the second edition of my book, will tell something of the kind manner in which the first

But as several people had expressed a wish that I should tell more of my army experiences I have gone

carefully over the entire book, adding some detail and a few incidents which had come to my mind later.

I have also been able, with some difficulty and much patient effort, to secure several photographs of

The stalwart men of the Prussian army, the Lancers, the Dragoons, the Hussars, the clank of their sabres on

the pavements, their brilliant uniforms, all made an impression upon my romantic mind, and I listened

eagerly, in the quiet evenings, to tales of Hanover under King George, to stories of battles lost, and the entry

of the Prussians into the old Residenzstadt; the flight of the King, and the sorrow and chagrin which

For I was living in the family of General Weste, the former stadtcommandant of Hanover, who had served

fifty years in the army and had accompanied King George on his exit from the city. He was a gallant veteran,

with the rank of GeneralLieutenant, ausser Dienst. A charming and dignified man, accepting philosophically

the fact that Hanover had become Prussian, but loyal in his heart to his King and to old Hanover; pretending

great wrath when, on the King's birthday, he found yellow and white sand strewn before his door, but unable

The General's wife was the daughter of a burgomaster and had been brought up in a neighboring town. She

The housekeeping was simple, but stately and precise, as befitted the rank of this officer. The General was

addressed by the servants as Excellenz and his wife as Frau Excellenz. A charming unmarried daughter lived

Life was spent quietly, and every evening, after our coffee (served in the livingroom in winter, and in the

garden in summer), Frau Generalin would amuse me with descriptions of life in her old home, and of how

girls were brought up in her day; how industry was esteemed by her mother the greatest virtue, and idleness

was punished as the most beguiling sin. She was never allowed, she said, to read, even on Sunday, without

her knittingwork in her hands; and she would often sigh, and say to me, in German (for dear Frau Generalin

spoke no other tongue), "Ach, Martha, you American girls are so differently brought up"; and I would say,

"But, Frau Generalin, which way do you think is the better?" She would then look puzzled, shrug her

shoulders, and often say, "Ach! times are different I suppose, but my ideas can never change."

Now the dear Frau Generalin did not speak a word of English, and as I had had only a few lessons in German

before I left America, I had the utmost difficulty at first in comprehending what she said. She spoke rapidly

and I would listen with the closest attention, only to give up in despair, and to say, "Gute Nacht," evening

After a few weeks, however, I began to understand everything she said, altho' I could not yet write or read the

language, and I listened with the greatest interest to the story of her marriage with young Lieutenant Weste,

of the bringing up of her four children, and of the old days in Hanover, before the Prussians took possession.

She described to me the brilliant Hanoverian Court, the endless festivities and balls, the stately elegance of

the old city, and the cruel misfortunes of the King. And how, a few days after the King's flight, the end of all

things came to her; for she was politely informed one evening, by a big Prussian major, that she must seek

other lodgingshe needed her quarters. At this point she always wept, and I sympathized.

Thus I came to know military life in Germany, and I fell in love with the army, with its brilliancy and its

glitter, with its struggles and its romance, with its sharp contrasts, its deprivations, and its chivalry.

I came to know, as their guest, the best of old military society. They were very oldfashioned and precise,

and Frau Generalin often told me that American girls were too ausgelassen in their manners. She often

reproved me for seating myself upon the sofa (which was only for old people) and also for looking about too

much when walking on the streets. Young girls must keep their eyes more cast down, looking up only

occasionally. (I thought this dreadfully prim, as I was eager to see everything). I was expected to stop and

drop a little courtesy on meeting an older woman, and then to inquire after the health of each member of the

family. It seemed to take a lot of time, but all the other girls did it, and there seemed to be no hurry about

anything, ever, in that elegant old Residenzstadt. Surely a contrast to our bustling American towns.

A sentiment seemed to underlie everything they did. The Emperor meant so much to them, and they adored

the Empress. A personal feeling, an affection, such as I had never heard of in a republic, caused me to stop

and wonder if an empire were not the best, after all. And one day, when the Emperor, passing through

Hanover en route, drove down the Georgenstrasse in an open barouche and raised his hat as he glanced at

the sidewalk where I happened to be standing, my heart seemed to stop beating, and I was overcome by a

most wonderful feelinga feeling that in a man would have meant chivalry and loyalty unto death.

In this beautiful old city, life could not be taken any other than leisurely. Theatres with early hours, the maid

coming for me with a lantern at nine o'clock, the frequent Kaffeeklatsch, the delightful afternoon coffee at

the Georgengarten, the visits to the Zoological gardens, where we always took our fresh rolls along with our

knittingwork in a basket, and then sat at a little table in the open, and were served with coffee, sweet cream,

and butter, by a strapping Hessian peasant womanall so simple, yet so elegant, so peaceful.

We heard the best music at the theatre, which was managed with the same precision, and maintained by the

Government with the same generosity, as in the days of King George. No one was allowed to enter after the

The orchestra consisted of sixty or more pieces, and the audience was critical. The parquet was filled with

officers in the gayest uniforms; there were few ladies amongst them; the latter sat mostly in the boxes, of

which there were several tiers, and as soon as the curtain fell, between the acts, the officers would rise, turn

around, and level their glasses at the boxes. Sometimes they came and visited in the boxes.

As I had been brought up in a town half Quaker, half Puritan, the custom of going to the theatre Sunday

evenings was rather a questionable one in my mind. But I soon fell in with their ways, and found that on

Sunday evenings there was always the most brilliant audience and the best plays were selected. With this

breakdown of the wall of narrow prejudice, I gave up others equally as narrow, and adopted the German

I studied the language with unflinching perseverance, for this was the opportunity I had dreamed about and

longed for in the barren winter evenings at Nantucket when I sat poring over Coleridge's translations of

And when my father consented for me to go over and spend a year and live in General Weste's family, there

never was a happier or more grateful young woman. Appreciative and eager, I did not waste a moment, and

my keen enjoyment of the German classics repaid me a hundred fold for all my industry.

Neither time nor misfortune, nor illness can take from me the memory of that year of privileges such as is

given few American girls to enjoy, when they are at an age to fully appreciate them.

And so completely separated was I from the American and English colony that I rarely heard my own

language spoken, and thus I lived, ate, listened, talked, and even dreamed in German.

There seemed to be time enough to do everything we wished; and, as the FrancoPrussian war was just over

(it was the year of 1871), and many troops were in garrison at Hanover, the officers could always join us at

the various gardens for afterdinner coffee, which, by the way, was not taken in the demitasse, but in good

generous coffeecups, with plenty of rich cream. Every one drank at least two cups, the officers smoked, the

women knitted or embroidered, and those were among the pleasantest hours I spent in Germany.

The intrusion of unwelcome visitors was never to be feared, as, by common consent, the various classes in

Hanover kept by themselves, thus enjoying life much better than in a country where everybody is striving

after the pleasures and luxuries enjoyed by those whom circumstances have placed above them.

The gay uniforms lent a brilliancy to every affair, however simple. Officers were not allowed to appear en

I used to say, "Oh, Frau General, how fascinating it all is!" "Hush, Martha," she would say; "life in the army

is not always so brilliant as it looks; in fact, we often call it, over here, 'glaenzendes Elend.' "

These bitter words made a great impression upon my mind, and in after years, on the American frontier, I

When I bade goodbye to the General and his family, I felt a tightening about my throat and my heart, and I

could not speak. Life in Germany had become dear to me, and I had not known how dear until I was leaving

I was put in charge of the captain of the North German Lloyd S. S. "Donau," and after a most terrific cyclone

in midocean, in which we nearly foundered, I landed in Hoboken, sixteen days from Bremen.

My brother, Harry Dunham, met me on the pier, saying, as he took me in his arms, "You do not need to tell

me what sort of a trip you have had; it is enough to look at the shipthat tells the story."

As the vessel had been about given up for lost, her arrival was somewhat of an agreeable surprise to all our

friends, and to none more so than my old friend Jack, a second lieutenant of the United States army, who

seemed so glad to have me back in America, that I concluded the only thing to do was to join the army

A quiet wedding in the country soon followed my decision, and we set out early in April of the year 1874 to

join his regiment, which was stationed at Fort Russell, Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory.

I had never been west of New York, and Cheyenne seemed to me, in contrast with the finished civilization of

Arriving in the morning, and alighting from the train, two gallant officers, in the uniform of the United States

infantry, approached and gave us welcome; and to me, the bride, a special "welcome to the regiment" was

Major Wilhelm said, "The ambulance is right here; you must come to our house and stay until you get your

Such was my introduction to the armyand to the army ambulance, in which I was destined to travel so

Four lively mules and a soldier driver brought us soon to the post, and Mrs. Wilhelm welcomed us to her

I had never seen an army post in America. I had always lived in places which needed no garrison, and the

Fort Russell was a large post, and the garrison consisted of many companies of cavalry and infantry. It was

Soon after luncheon, Jack said to Major Wilhelm, "Well, now, I must go and look for quarters: what's the

"You will have to turn some one out," said the Major, as they left the house together.

About an hour afterwards they returned, and Jack said, "Well, I have turned out Lynch; but," he added, "as

The Major and his wife smiled, and the former remarked, "You must not have too much sympathy: it's the

custom of the serviceit's always doneby virtue of rank. They'll hate you for doing it, but if you don't do

it they'll not respect you. After you've been turned out once yourself, you will not mind turning others out."

The following morning I drove over to Cheyenne with Mrs. Wilhelm, and as I passed Lieutenant Lynch's

quarters and saw soldiers removing Mrs. Lynch's lares and penates, in the shape of a sewing machine,

lampshades, and other homelike things, I turned away in pity that such customs could exist in our service.

To me, who had lived my life in the house in which I was born, moving was a thing to be dreaded.

But Mrs. Wilhelm comforted me, and assured me it was not such a serious matter after all. Army women

Not knowing before I left home just what was needed for housekeeping in the army, and being able to

gather only vague ideas on the subject from Jack, who declared that his quarters were furnished admirably, I

had taken out with me but few articles in addition to the silver and linenchests.

I began to have serious doubts on the subject of my menage, after inspecting the bachelor furnishings which

had seemed so ample to my husband. But there was so much to be seen in the way of guard mount, cavalry

drill, and various military functions, besides the drives to town and the concerts of the string orchestra, that I

Added to this, we were enjoying the delightful hospitality of the Wilhelms, and the Major insisted upon

making me acquainted with the "real oldfashioned army toddy" several times a day,a new beverage to

me, brought up in a blueribbon community, where winebibbing and whiskey drinking were rated as

belonging to only the lowest classes. To be sure, my father always drank two fingers of fine cognac before

dinner, but I had always considered that a sort of medicine for a man advanced in years.

Taken all in all, it is not to be wondered at if I saw not much in those few days besides bright buttons, blue

Everything was military and gay and brilliant, and I forgot the very existence of practical things, in listening

to the dreamy strains of Italian and German music, rendered by our excellent and painstaking orchestra. For

the Eighth Infantry loved good music, and had imported its musicians direct from Italy.

This came to an end, however, after a few days, and I was obliged to descend from those heights to the dead

My husband informed me that the quarters were ready for our occupancy and that we could begin

housekeeping at once. He had engaged a soldier named Adams for a striker; he did not know whether

Adams was much of a cook, he said, but he was the only available man just then, as the companies were up

Our quarters consisted of three rooms and a kitchen, which formed onehalf of a double house.

I asked Jack why we could not have a whole house. I did not think I could possibly live in three rooms and a

"Why, Martha," said he, "did you not know that women are not reckoned in at all at the War Department? A

lieutenant's allowance of quarters, according to the Army Regulations, is one room and a kitchen, a captain's

allowance is two rooms and a kitchen, and so on up, until a colonel has a fairly good house." I told him I

thought it an outrage; that lieutenants' wives needed quite as much as colonels' wives.

He laughed and said, "You see we have already two rooms over our proper allowance; there are so many

After indulging in some rather harsh comments upon a government which could treat lieutenants' wives so

Jack had placed his furnishings (some lace curtains, camp chairs, and a carpet) in the livingroom, and there

was a forlornlooking bedstead in the bedroom. A pine table in the diningroom and a range in the kitchen

completed the outfit. A soldier had scrubbed the rough floors with a straw broom: it was absolutely forlorn,

But then I thought of Mrs. Wilhelm's quarters, and resolved to try my best to make ours look as cheerful and

pretty as hers. A chaplain was about leaving the post and wished to dispose of his things, so we bought a

carpet of him, a few more camp chairs of various designs, and a cheerfullooking tablecover. We were

obliged to be very economical, as Jack was a second lieutenant, the pay was small and a little in arrears, after

the wedding trip and long journey out. We bought white Holland shades for the windows, and made the three

Jack said I should not have to buy anything at all; the Quartermaster Department furnished everything in the

line of kitchen utensils; and, as his word was law, I went over to the quartermaster storehouse to select the

After what I had been told, I was surprised to find nothing smaller than twogallon teakettles, meatforks a

yard long, and messkettles deep enough to cook rations for fifty men! I rebelled, and said I would not use

My husband said: "Now, Mattie, be reasonable; all the army women keep house with these utensils; the

regiment will move soon, and then what should we do with a lot of tin pans and such stuff? You know a

second lieutenant is allowed only a thousand pounds of baggage when he changes station." This was a hard

Having been brought up in an oldtime community, where women deferred to their husbands in everything, I

yielded, and the huge things were sent over. I had told Mrs. Wilhelm that we were to have luncheon in our

So Adams made a fire large enough to roast beef for a company of soldiers, and he and I attempted to boil a

few eggs in the deep messkettle and to make the water boil in the huge teakettle.

But Adams, as it turned out, was not a cook, and I must confess that my own attention had been more

engrossed by the study of German auxiliary verbs, during the few previous years, than with the art of

Of course, like all New England girls of that period, I knew how to make quince jelly and floating islands, but

of the actual, practical side of cooking, and the management of a range, I knew nothing.

The eggs appeared to boil, but they did not seem to be done when we took them off, by the minutehand of

I declared the kettle was too large; Adams said he did not understand it at all.

I appealed to Jack. He said, "Why, of course, Martha, you ought to know that things do not cook as quickly at

this altitude as they do down at the sea level. We are thousands of feet above the sea here in Wyoming." (I am

My head was giddy with the glamour, the uniform, the guardmount, the military music, the rarefied air, the

new conditions, the new interests of my life. Heine's songs, Goethe's plays, history and romance were floating

through my mind. Is it to be wondered at that I and Adams together prepared the most atrocious meals that

ever a new husband had to eat? I related my difficulties to Jack, and told him I thought we should never be

"Oh, pshaw! You are pampered and spoiled with your New England kitchens," said he; "you will have to

learn to do as other army women docook in cans and such things, be inventive, and learn to do with

After my unpractical teacher had gone out on some official business, I ran over to Mrs. Wilhelm's quarters

She assented, and I saw the most beautiful array of tinware, shining and neat, placed in rows upon the

"So!" I said; "my military husband does not know anything about these things;" and I availed myself of the

first trip of the ambulance over to Cheyenne, bought a stock of tinware and had it charged, and made no

mention of itbecause I feared that tinware was to be our bone of contention, and I put off the evil day.

The cooking went on better after that, but I did not have much assistance from Adams.

I had great trouble at first with the titles and the rank: but I soon learned that many of the officers were

addressed by the brevet title bestowed upon them for gallant service in the Civil War, and I began to

understand about the ways and customs of the army of Uncle Sam. In contrast to the Germans, the American

lieutenants were not addressed by their title (except officially); I learned to "Mr." all the lieutenants who had

One morning I suggested to Adams that he should wash the front windows; after being gone a half hour, to

borrow a stepladder, he entered the room, mounted the ladder and began. I sat writing. Suddenly, he faced

This was enough; he proceeded to give a lecture on the subject worthy of a man higher up on the ladder of

this life. I bade him come to an end as soon as I dared (for I was not accustomed to soldiers), and suggested

It was early in April, and the snow drifted through the crevices of the old driedout house, in banks upon our

bed; but that was soon mended, and things began to go smoothly enough, when Jack was ordered to join his

company, which was up at the Spotted Tail Agency. It was expected that the Sioux under this chief would

break out at any minute. They had become disaffected about some treaty. I did not like to be left alone with

the Spiritualist, so Jack asked one of the laundresses, whose husband was out with the company, to come and

stay and take care of me. Mrs. Patten was an old campaigner; she understood everything about officers and

their ways, and she made me absolutely comfortable for those two lonely months. I always felt grateful to

All the families and a few officers were left at the post, and, with the daily drive to Cheyenne, some small

Cheyenne in those early days was an amusing but unattractive frontier town; it presented a great contrast to

the old civilization I had so recently left. We often saw women in cotton wrappers, highheeled slippers, and

sunbonnets, walking in the main streets. Cows, pigs, and saloons seemed to be a feature of the place.

In about six weeks, the affairs of the Sioux were settled, and the troops returned to the post. The weather

began to be uncomfortably hot in those low wooden houses. I missed the comforts of home and the fresh sea

Our sleepingroom was very small, and its one window looked out over the boundless prairie at the back of

the post. On account of the great heat, we were obliged to have this window wide open at night. I heard the

cries and wails of various animals, but Jack said that was nothingthey always heard them.

Once, at midnight, the wails seemed to be nearer, and I was terrified; but he told me 'twas only the halfwild

cats and coyotes which prowled around the post. I asked him if they ever came in. "Gracious, no!" he said;

I calmed myself for sleepwhen like lightning, one of the huge creatures gave a flying leap in at our

"Jerusalem!" cried the lieutenant, and flew after her, snatching his sword, which stood in the corner, and

I rolled myself under the bedcovers, in the most abject terror lest she might come back the same way; and,

true enough, she did, with a most piercing cry. I never had much rest after that occurrence, as we had no

The regiment, however, in June was ordered to Arizona, that dreaded and then unknown land, and the

uncertain future was before me. I saw the other women packing china and their various belongings. I seemed

to be helpless. Jack was busy with things outside. He had three large army chests, which were brought in and

placed before me. "Now," he said, "all our things must go into those chests"and I supposed they must.

I was pitifully ignorant of the details of moving, and I stood despairingly gazing into the depths of those

boxes, when the jolly and stout wife of Major von Hermann passed my window. She glanced in,

comprehended the situation, and entered, saying, "You do not understand how to pack? Let me help you: give

me a cushion to kneel uponnow bring everything that is to be packed, and I can soon show you how to do

it." With her kind assistance the chests were packed, and I found that we had a great deal of surplus stuff

which had to be put into rough cases, or rolled into packages and covered with burlap. Jack fumed when he

saw it, and declared we could not take it all, as it exceeded our allowance of weight. I declared we must take

With some concessions on both sides we were finally packed up, and left Fort Russell about the middle of

June, with the first detachment, consisting of headquarters and band, for San Francisco, over the Union

For it must be remembered, that in 1874 there were no railroads in Arizona, and all troops which were sent to

that distant territory either marched overland through New Mexico, or were transported by steamer from

San Francisco down the coast, and up the Gulf of California to Fort Yuma, from which point they marched up

the valley of the Gila to the southern posts, or continued up the Colorado River by steamer, to other points of

disembarkation, whence they marched to the posts in the interior, or the northern part of the territory.

Much to my delight, we were allowed to remain over in San Francisco, and go down with the second

detachment. We made the most of the time, which was about a fortnight, and on the sixth of August we

embarked with six companies of soldiers, Lieutenant Colonel Wilkins in command, on the old steamship

Now the "Newbern" was famous for being a good roller, and she lived up to her reputation. For seven days I

saw only the inside of our stateroom. At the end of that time we arrived off Cape St. Lucas (the extreme

We anchored and took cattle aboard. I watched the natives tow them off, the cattle swimming behind their

small boats, and then saw the poor beasts hoisted up by their horns to the deck of our ship.

I thought it most dreadfully cruel, but was informed that it had been done from time immemorial, so I ceased

to talk about it, knowing that I could not reform those aged countries, and realizing, faintly perhaps (for I had

never seen much of the rough side of life), that just as cruel things were done to the cattle we consume in the

Now that Mr. Sinclair, in his great book "The Jungle," has brought the multiplied horrors of the great

packinghouses before our very eyes, we might witness the hoisting of the cattle over the ship's side without

It was now the middle of August, and the weather had become insufferably hot, but we were out of the long

swell of the Pacific Ocean; we had rounded Cape St. Lucas, and were steaming up the Gulf of California,

towards the mouth of the Great Colorado, whose red and turbulent waters empty themselves into this gulf, at

I now had time to become acquainted with the officers of the regiment, whom I had not before met; they had

The daughter of the lieutenantcolonel was on board, the beautiful and graceful Caroline Wilkins, the belle of

the regiment; and Major Worth, to whose company my husband belonged. I took a special interest in the

latter, as I knew we must face life together in the wilds of Arizona. I had time to learn something about the

regiment and its history; and that Major Worth's father, whose monument I had so often seen in New York,

was the first colonel of the Eighth Infantry, when it was organized in the State of New York in 1838.

The party on board was merry enough, and even gay. There was Captain Ogilby, a great, genial Scotchman,

and Captain Porter, a graduate of Dublin, and so charmingly witty. He seemed very devoted to Miss Wilkins,

but Miss Wilkins was accustomed to the devotion of all the officers of the Eighth Infantry. In fact, it was said

that every young lieutenant who joined the regiment had proposed to her. She was most attractive, and as she

had too kind a heart to be a coquette, she was a universal favorite with the women as well as with the men.

There was Ella Bailey, too, Miss Wilkins' sister, with her young and handsome husband and their young

Then, dear Mrs. Wilkins, who had been so many years in the army that she remembered crossing the plains in

a real oxteam. She represented the best type of the older army womanand it was so lovely to see her with

her two daughters, all in the same regiment. A mother of grownup daughters was not often met with in the

And LieutenantColonel Wilkins, a gentleman in the truest sense of the worda man of rather quiet tastes,

never happier than when he had leisure for indulging his musical taste in strumming all sorts of Spanish

fandangos on the guitar, or his somewhat marked talent with the pencil and brush.

The heat of the staterooms compelled us all to sleep on deck, so our mattresses were brought up by the

soldiers at night, and spread about. The situation, however, was so novel and altogether ludicrous, and our

fear of rats which ran about on deck so great, that sleep was wellnigh out of the question.

Before dawn, we fled to our staterooms, but by sunrise we were glad to dress and escape from their

suffocating heat and go on deck again. Black coffee and hardtack were sent up, and this sustained us until

the nineo'clock breakfast, which was elaborate, but not good. There was no milk, of course, except the

heavily sweetened sort, which I could not use: it was the oldtime condensed and canned milk; the meats

were beyond everything, except the poor, tough, fresh beef we had seen hoisted over the side, at Cape St.

Lucas. The butter, poor at the best, began to pour like oil. Black coffee and bread, and a baked sweet potato,

The heat in the Gulf of California was intense. Our trunks were brought up from the vessel's hold, and we

took out summer clothing. But how inadequate and inappropriate it was for that climate! Our faces burned

and blistered; even the parting on the head burned, under the awnings which were kept spread. The

icesupply decreased alarmingly, the meats turned green, and when the steward went down into the

refrigerator, which was somewhere below the quarterdeck, to get provisions for the day, every woman held

a bottle of salts to her nose, and the officers fled to the forward part of the ship. The odor which ascended

from that refrigerator was indescribable: it lingered and would not go. It followed us to the table, and when

we tasted the food we tasted the odor. We bribed the steward for ice. Finally, I could not go below at all, but

had a baked sweet potato brought on deck, and lived several days upon that diet.

On the 14th of August we anchored off Mazatlan, a picturesque and ancient adobe town in old Mexico. The

approach to this port was strikingly beautiful. Great rocks, cut by the surf into arches and caverns, guarded

the entrance to the harbor. We anchored two miles out. A customs and a WellsFargo boat boarded us, and

many natives came along side, bringing fresh cocoanuts, bananas, and limes. Some Mexicans bound for

While we were unloading cargo, some officers and their wives went on shore in one of the ship's boats, and

found it a most interesting place. It was garrisoned by Mexican troops, uniformed in white cotton shirts and

trousers. They visited the old hotel, the amphitheatre where the bullfights were held, and the old fort. They

My thirst began to be abnormal. We bought a dozen cocoanuts, and I drank the milk from them, and made up

my mind to go ashore at the next port; for after nine days with only thick black coffee and bad warm water to

A day or so more brought us to Guaymas, another Mexican port. Mrs. Wilkins said she had heard something

about an old Spaniard there, who used to cook meals for stray travellers. This was enough. I was desperately

hungry and thirsty, and we decided to try and find him. Mrs. Wilkins spoke a little Spanish, and by dint of

inquiries we found the man's house, a little old, forlorn, desertedlooking adobe casa.

We rapped vigorously upon the old door, and after some minutes a small, withered old man appeared.

Mrs. Wilkins told him what we wanted, but this ancient Delmonico declined to serve us, and said, in Spanish,

the country was "a desert"; he had "nothing in the house"; he had "not cooked a meal in years"; he could not;

and, finally, he would not; and he gently pushed the door to in our faces. But we did not give it up, and Mrs.

Wilkins continued to persuade. I mustered what Spanish I knew, and told him I would pay him any price for a

cup of coffee with fresh milk. He finally yielded, and told us to return in one hour.

So we walked around the little deserted town. I could think only of the breakfast we were to have in the old

man's casa. And it met and exceeded our wildest anticipations, for, just fancy! We were served with a

delicious boullion, then chicken, perfectly cooked, accompanied by some dish flavored with chile verde,

creamy biscuit, fresh butter, and golden coffee with milk. There were three or four women and several

officers in the party, and we had a merry breakfast. We paid the old man generously, thanked him warmly,

and returned to the ship, fortified to endure the sight of all the green ducks that came out of the lower hold.

You must remember that the "Newbern" was a small and old propeller, not fitted up for passengers, and in

those days the great refrigerating plants were unheard of. The women who go to the Philippines on our great

transports of today cannot realize and will scarcely believe what we endured for lack of ice and of good

food on that nevertobeforgotten voyage down the Pacific coast and up the Gulf of California in the

At last, after a voyage of thirteen days, we came to anchor a mile or so off Port Isabel, at the mouth of the

Colorado River. A narrow but deep slue runs up into the desert land, on the east side of the river's mouth, and

provides a harbor of refuge for the flatbottomed sternwheelers which meet the ocean steamers at this point.

Hurricanes are prevalent at this season in the Gulf of California, but we had been fortunate in not meeting

with any on the voyage. The wind now freshened, however, and beat the waves into angry foam, and there we

lay for three days on the "Newbern," off Port Isabel, before the sea was calm enough for the transfer of troops

This was excessively disagreeable. The wind was like a breath from a furnace; it seemed as though the days

would never end, and the wind never stop blowing. Jack's official diary says: "One soldier died today."

Finally, on the fourth day, the wind abated, and the transfer was begun. We boarded the river steamboat

"Cocopah," towing a barge loaded with soldiers, and steamed away for the slue. I must say that we welcomed

the change with delight. Towards the end of the afternoon the "Cocopah" put her nose to the shore and tied

up. It seemed strange not to see pier sand docks, nor even piles to tie to. Anchors were taken ashore and the

boat secured in that manner: there being no trees of sufficient size to make fast to.

The soldiers went into camp on shore. The heat down in that low, flat place was intense. Another man died

What was our chagrin, the next morning, to learn that we must go back to the "Newbern," to carry some

freight from upriver. There was nothing to do but stay on board and tow that dreary barge, filled with hot,

red, bakedlooking ore, out to the ship, unload, and go back up the slue. Jack's diary records: "Aug. 23rd.

Heat awful. Pringle died today." He was the third soldier to succumb. It seemed to me their fate was a hard

one. To die, down in that wretched place, to be rolled in a blanket and buried on those desert shores, with

The adjutant of the battalion read the burial service, and the trumpeters stepped to the edge of the graves and

sounded "Taps," which echoed sad and melancholy far over those parched and arid lands. My eyes filled with

tears, for one of the soldiers was from our own company, and had been kind to me.

Jack said: "You mustn't cry, Mattie; it's a soldier's life, and when a man enlists he must take his chances."

"Yes, but," I said, "somewhere there must be a mother or sister, or some one who cares for these poor men,

"Well, I know it is sad," he replied, soothingly, "but listen! It is all over, and the burial party is returning."

I listened and heard the gay strains of "The girl I left behind me," which the trumpeters were playing with all

their might. "You see," said Jack, "it would not do for the soldiers to be sad when one of them dies. Why, it

would demoralize the whole command. So they play these gay things to cheer them up."

And I began to feel that tears must be out of place at a soldier's funeral. I attended many a one after that, but I

had too much imagination, and in spite of all my brave efforts, visions of the poor boy's mother on some little

farm in Missouri or Kansas perhaps, or in some New England town, or possibly in the old country, would

The Post Hospital seemed to me a lonesome place to die in, although the surgeon and soldier attendants were

The next day, the "Cocopah" started again and towed a barge out to the ship. But the hot wind sprang up and

blew fiercely, and we lay off and on all day, until it was calm enough to tow her back to the slue. By that time

I had about given up all hope of getting any farther, and if the weather had only been cooler I could have

endured with equanimity the idle life and knocking about from the ship to the slue, and from the slue to the

ship. But the heat was unbearable. We had to unpack our trunks again and get out heavysoled shoes, for the

zinc which covered the decks of these riversteamers burned through the thin slippers we had worn on the

That day we had a little diversion, for we saw the "Gila" come down the river and up the slue, and tie up

directly alongside of us. She had on board and in barges four companies of the Twentythird Infantry, who

were going into the States. We exchanged greetings and visits, and from the great joy manifested by them all,

I drew my conclusions as to what lay before us, in the dry and desolate country we were about to enter.

The women's clothes looked ridiculously oldfashioned, and I wondered if I should look that way when my

Little cared they, those women of the Twentythird, for, joy upon joys! They saw the "Newbern" out there in

the offing, waiting to take them back to green hills, and to cool days and nights, and to those they had left

On account of the wind, which blew again with great violence, the "Cocopah" could not leave the slue that

day. The officers and soldiers were desperate for something to do. So they tried fishing, and caught some

"croakers," which tasted very fresh and good, after all the curried and doctoredup messes we had been

We spent seven days in and out of that slue. Finally, on August the 26th, the wind subsided and we started up

river. Towards sunset we arrived at a place called "Old Soldier's Camp." There the "Gila" joined us, and the

command was divided between the two riverboats. We were assigned to the "Gila," and I settled myself

We resigned ourselves to the dreadful heat, and at the end of two more days the river had begun to narrow,

and we arrived at Fort Yuma, which was at that time the post best known to, and most talked about by army

officers of any in Arizona. No one except old campaigners knew much about any other post in the Territory.

It was said to be the very hottest place that ever existed, and from the time we left San Francisco we had

heard the story, oft repeated, of the poor soldier who died at Fort Yuma, and after awhile returned to beg for

his blankets, having found the regions of Pluto so much cooler than the place he had left. But the fort looked

pleasant to us, as we approached. It lay on a high mesa to the left of us and there was a little green grass

None of the officers knew as yet their destination, and I found myself wishing it might be our good fortune to

Lieutenant Haskell, Twelfth Infantry, who was stationed there, came down to the boat to greet us, and

brought us our letters from home. He then extended his gracious hospitality to us all, arranging for us to come

to his quarters the next day for a meal, and dividing the party as best he could accommodate us. It fell to our

An ambulance was sent the next morning, at nine o'clock, to bring us up the steep and winding road, white

I can never forget the taste of the oatmeal with fresh milk, the eggs and butter, and delicious tomatoes, which

After twentythree days of heat and glare, and scorching winds, and stale food, Fort Yuma and Mr. Haskell's

Of course it was hot; it was August, and we expected it. But the heat of those places can be much alleviated

by the surroundings. There were shower baths, and latticed piazzas, and large ollas hanging in the shade of

them, containing cool water. Yuma was only twenty days from San Francisco, and they were able to get

many things direct by steamer. Of course there was no ice, and butter was kept only by ingenious devices of

the Chinese servants; there were but few vegetables, but what was to be had at all in that country, was to be

We staid one more day, and left two companies of the regiment there. When we departed, I felt, somehow, as

though we were saying goodbye to the world and civilization, and as our boat clattered and tugged away up

river with its great wheel astern, I could not help looking back longingly to old Fort Yuma.

And now began our real journey up the Colorado River, that river unknown to me except in my early

geography lessonsthat mighty and untamed river, which is today unknown except to the explorer, or the

few people who have navigated its turbulent waters. Back in memory was the picture of it on the map; here

was the reality, then, and here we were, on the steamer "Gila," Captain Mellon, with the barge full of soldiers

The vague and shadowy foreboding that had fluttered through my mind before I left Fort Russell had now

also become a reality and crowded out every other thought. The river, the scenery, seemed, after all, but an

We had staterooms, but could not remain in them long at a time, on account of the intense heat. I had never

felt such heat, and no one else ever had or has since. The days were interminable. We wandered around the

boat, first forward, then aft, to find a cool spot. We hung up our canteens (covered with flannel and dipped in

water), where they would swing in the shade, thereby obtaining water which was a trifle cooler than the air.

There was no ice, and consequently no fresh provisions. A Chinaman served as steward and cook, and at the

ringing of a bell we all went into a small saloon back of the pilothouse, where the meals were served. Our

party at table on the "Gila" consisted of several unmarried officers, and several officers with their wives,

about eight or nine in all, and we could have had a merry time enough but for the awful heat, which destroyed

both our good looks and our tempers. The fare was meagre, of course; fresh biscuit without butter, very salt

boiled beef, and some canned vegetables, which were poor enough in those days. Pies made from preserved

peaches or plums generally followed this delectable course. Chinamen, as we all know, can make pies under

conditions that would stagger most chefs. They may have no marble pastryslab, and the lard may run like

But that diningroom was hot! The metal handles of the knives were uncomfortably warm to the touch; and

even the wooden arms of the chairs felt as if they were slowly igniting. After a hasty meal, and a few remarks

upon the salt beef, and the general misery of our lot, we would seek some spot which might be a trifle cooler.

A siesta was out of the question, as the staterooms were insufferable; and so we dragged out the weary days.

At sundown the boat put her nose up to the bank and tied up for the night. The soldiers left the barges and

went into camp on shore, to cook their suppers and to sleep. The banks of the river offered no very attractive

spot upon which to make a camp; they were low, flat, and covered with underbrush and arrowweed, which

grew thick to the water's edge. I always found it interesting to watch the barge unload the men at sundown.

At twilight some of the soldiers came on board and laid our mattresses side by side on the after deck. Pajamas

and loose gowns were soon en evidence, but nothing mattered, as they were no electric lights to disturb us

with their glare. Rank also mattered not; LieutenantColonel Wilkins and his wife lay down to rest, with the

captains and lieutenants and their wives, wherever their respective strikers had placed their mattresses (for

this was the good old time when the soldiers were allowed to wait upon officers 'families).

Under these circumstances, much sleep was not to be thought of; the sultry heat by the river bank, and the

pungent smell of the arrowweed which lined the shores thickly, contributed more to stimulate than to soothe

the weary nerves. But the glare of the sun was gone, and after awhile a stillness settled down upon this

company of Uncle Sam's servants and their followers. (In the Army Regulations, wives are not rated except

But even this short respite from the glare of the sun was soon to end; for before the crack of dawn, or, as it

seemed to us, shortly after midnight, came such a clatter with the fires and the highpressure engine and the

sparks, and what all they did in that wild and reckless land, that further rest was impossible, and we betook

ourselves with our mattresses to the staterooms, for another attempt at sleep, which, however, meant only

failure, as the sun rose incredibly early on that river, and we were glad to take a hasty sponge from a basin of

rather thick looking riverwater, and go again out on deck, where we could always get a cup of black coffee

And thus began another day of intolerable glare and heat. Conversation lagged; no topic seemed to have any

interest except the thermometer, which hung in the coolest place on the boat; and one day when Major Worth

looked at it and pronounced it one hundred and twentytwo in the shade, a grim despair seized upon me, and

I wondered how much more heat human beings could endure. There was nothing to relieve the monotony of

the scenery. On each side of us, low river banks, and nothing between those and the horizon line. On our left

*This term is here used (as we used it at Ehrenberg) to designate the low, flat lands west of the river, without

any reference to Lower California proper,the long peninsula belonging to Mexico.

As the river narrowed, however, the trip began to be enlivened by the constant danger of getting aground on

the shifting sandbars which are so numerous in this mighty river. Jack Mellon was then the most famous

pilot on the Colorado, and he was very skilful in steering clear of the sandbars, skimming over them, or

working his boat off, when once fast upon them. The deckhands, men of a mixed Indian and Mexican race,

stood ready with long poles, in the bow, to jump overboard, when we struck a bar,and by dint of pushing, and

On approaching a shallow place, they would sound with their poles, and in a singsong highpitched tone

drawl out the number of feet. Sometimes their sleepy drawling tones would suddenly cease, and crying

loudly, "No alli agua!" they would swing themselves over the side of the boat into the river, and begin their

strange and intricate manipulations with the poles. Then, again, they would carry the anchor away off and by

means of great spars, and some method too complicated for me to describe, Captain Mellon would fairly lift

But our progress was naturally much retarded, and sometimes we were aground an hour, sometimes a half

day or more. Captain Mellon was always cheerful. River steamboating was his life, and sandbars were his

excitement. On one occasion, I said, "Oh! Captain, do you think we shall get off this bar today ?" "Well,

you can't tell," he said, with a twinkle in his eye; "one trip, I lay fiftytwo days on a bar," and then, after a

short pause, "but that don't happen very often; we sometimes lay a week, though; there is no telling; the bars

Sometimes the low trees and brushwood on the banks parted, and a young squaw would peer out at us. This

was a little diversion, and picturesque besides. They wore very short skirts made of stripped bark, and as they

held back the branches of the low willows, and looked at us with curiosity, they made pictures so pretty that I

have never forgotten them. We had no kodaks then, but even if we had had them, they could not have

reproduced the fine copper color of those bare shoulders and arms, the soft wood colors of the short bark

skirts, the gleam of the sun upon their blueblack hair, and the turquoise color of the wide beadbands which

One morning, as I was trying to finish out a nap in my stateroom, Jack came excitedly in and said: "Get up,

Martha, we are coming to Ehrenberg!" Visions of castles on the Rhine, and stories of the middle ages floated

through my mind, as I sprang up, in pleasurable anticipation of seeing an interesting and beautiful place.

Alas! for my ignorance. I saw but a row of low thatched hovels, perched on the edge of the ragged looking

riverbank; a road ran lengthwise along, and opposite the hovels I saw a store and some more meanlooking

"Oh! Jack!" I cried, "and is that Ehrenberg? Who on earth gave such a name to the wretched place?"

"Oh, some old German prospector, I suppose; but never mind, the place is all right enough. Come! Hurry up!

We are going to stop here and land freight. There is an officer stationed here. See those low white walls? That

is where he lives. Captain Bernard of the Fifth Cavalry. It's quite a place; come out and see it."

But I did not go ashore. Of all dreary, miserablelooking settlements that one could possibly imagine, that

was the worst. An unfriendly, dirty, and Heavenforsaken place, inhabited by a poor class of Mexicans and

halfbreeds. It was, however, an important shipping station for freight which was to be sent overland to the

Captain Bernard came on board to see us. I did not ask him how he liked his station; it seemed to me too

satirical; like asking the Prisoner of Chillon, for instance, how he liked his dungeon.

I looked over towards those low white walls, which enclosed the Government corral and the habitation of this

officer, and thanked my stars that no such dreadful detail had come to my husband. I did not dream that in

On the third of September the boilers "foamed" so that we had to tie up for nearly a day. This was caused by

the water being so very muddy. The Rio Colorado deserves its name, for its swiftflowing current sweeps by

like a mass of seething red liquid, turbulent and thick and treacherous. It was said on the river, that those who

sank beneath its surface were never seen again, and in looking over into those whirlpools and swirling eddies,

>From there on, up the river, we passed through great canons and the scenery was grand enough; but one

cannot enjoy scenery with the mercury ranging from 107 to 122 in the shade. The grandeur was quite lost

upon us all, and we were suffocated by the scorching heat radiating from those massive walls of rocks

I must confess that the history of this great river was quite unknown to me then. I had never read of the early

attempts made to explore it, both from above and from its mouth, and the wonders of the "Grand Canon"

were as yet unknown to the world. I did not realize that, as we steamed along between those high

perpendicular walls of rock, we were really seeing the lower end of that great chasm which now, thirty years

later, has become one of the most famous resorts of this country and, in fact, of the world.

There was some mention made of Major Powell, that daring adventurer, who, a few years previously, had

accomplished the marvellous feat of going down the Colorado and through the Grand Canon, in a small boat,

he being the first man who had at that time ever accomplished it, many men having lost their lives in the

At last, on the 8th of September, we arrived at Camp Mojave, on the right bank of the river; a low, square

enclosure, on the low level of the flat land near the river. It seemed an age since we had left Yuma and twice

an age since we had left the mouth of the river. But it was only eighteen days in all, and Captain Mellon

remarked: "A quick trip!" and congratulated us on the good luck we had had in not being detained on the

sandbars. "Great Heavens," I thought, "if that is what they call a quick trip!" But I do not know just what I

thought, for those eighteen days on the Great Colorado in midsummer, had burned themselves into my

memory, and I made an inward vow that nothing would ever force me into such a situation again. I did not

stop to really think; I only felt, and my only feeling was a desire to get cool and to get out of the Territory in

some other way and at some cooler season. How futile a wish, and how futile a vow!

______________________________________________________ Dellenbaugh, who was with Powell in

1869 in his second expedition down the river in small boats, has given to the world a most interesting account

of this wonderful river and the canons through which it cuts its tempestuous way to the Gulf of California, in

We bade goodbye to our gallant river captain and watched the great sternwheeler as she swung out into the

stream, and, heading up river, disappeared around a bend; for even at that time this venturesome pilot had

pushed his boat farther up than any other steamcraft had ever gone, and we heard that there were terrific

rapids and falls and unknown mysteries above. The superstition of centuries hovered over the "great cut," and

but few civilized beings had looked down into its awful depths. Brave, dashing, handsome Jack Mellon!

What would I give and what would we all give, to see thee once more, thou Wizard of the Great Colorado!

The Post Surgeon kindly took care of us for two days and nights, and we slept upon the broad piazzas of his

We heard no more the crackling and fizzing of the sternwheeler's highpressure engines at daylight, and our

eyes, tired with gazing at the red whirlpools of the river, found relief in looking out upon the greywhite flat

Thou white and driedup sea! so old! So strewn with wealth, so sown with gold! Yes, thou art old and hoary

white With time and ruin of all things, And on thy lonesome borders Night Sits brooding o'er with drooping

The country had grown steadily more unfriendly ever since leaving Fort Yuma, and the surroundings of

But we took time to sort out our belongings, and the officers arranged for transportation across the Territory.

Some had bought, in San Francisco, comfortable travellingcarriages for their families. They were old

campaigners; they knew a thing or two about Arizona; we lieutenants did not know, we had never heard

much about this part of our country. But a comfortable large carriage, known as a Dougherty wagon, or, in

common army parlance, an ambulance, was secured for me to travel in. This vehicle had a large body, with

two seats facing each other, and a seat outside for the driver. The inside of the wagon could be closed if

desired by canvas sides and back which rolled up and down, and by a curtain which dropped behind the

We repacked our messchest, and bought from the Commissary at Mojave the provisions necessary for the

long journey to Fort Whipple, which was the destination of one of the companies and the headquarters

On the morning of September 10th everything in the post was astir with preparations for the first march. It

was now thirtyfive days since we left San Francisco, but the change from boat to land travelling offered an

agreeable diversion after the monotony of the river. I watched with interest the loading of the great

prairieschooners, into which went the soldiers' boxes and the camp equipage. Outside was lashed a good

deal of the lighter stuff; I noticed a barrel of china, which looked much like our own, lashed directly over one

wheel. Then there were the massive blue army wagons, which were also heavily loaded; the laundresses with

At last the command moved out. It was to me a novel sight. The wagons and schooners were each drawn by

teams of six heavy mules, while a team of six lighter mules was put to each ambulance and carriage. These

were quite different from the draught animals I had always seen in the Eastern States; these Government

mules being sleek, wellfed and trained to trot as fast as the average carriagehorse. The harnesses were

quite smart, being trimmed off with white ivory rings. Each mule was "Lize" or "Fanny" or "Kate", and the

soldiers who handled the lines were accustomed to the work; for work, and arduous work, it proved to be, as

The main body of the troops marched in advance; then came the ambulances and carriages, followed by the

baggagewagons and a small rearguard. When the troops were halted once an hour for rest, the officers,

who marched with the soldiers, would come to the ambulances and chat awhile, until the bugle call for

"Assembly" sounded, when they would join their commands again, the men would fall in, the call "Forward"

The first day's march was over a dreary country; a hot wind blew, and everything was filled with dust. I had

long ago discarded my hat, as an unnecessary and troublesome article; consequently my head wa snow a

mass of fine white dust, which stuck fast, of course. I was covered from head to foot with it, and it would not

shake off, so, although our steamboat troubles were over, our land troubles had begun.

We reached, after a few hours' travel, the desolate place where we were to camp.

In the mean time, it had been arranged for Major Worth, who had no family, to share our mess, and we had

secured the services of a soldier belonging to his company whose ability as a camp cook was known to both

I cannot say that life in the army, as far as I had gone, presented any very great attractions. This, our first

camp, was on the river, a little above Hardyville. Good water was there, and that was all; I had not yet learned

to appreciate that. There was not a tree nor a shrub to give shade. The only thing I could see, except sky and

sand, was a ruined adobe enclosure ,with no roof. I sat in the ambulance until our tent was pitched, and then

Jack came to me, followed by a sixfoot soldier, and said: "Mattie, this is Bowen, our striker; now I want you

to tell him what he shall cook for our supper; anddon't you think it would be nice if you could show him

how to make some of those good New England doughnuts? I think Major Worth might like them; and after

all the awful stuff we have had, you know," et caetera, et caetera. I met the situation, after an inward struggle,

and said, weakly, "Where are the eggs?" "Oh," said he, "you don't need eggs; you're on the frontier now; you

Everything in me rebelled, but still I yielded. You see I had been married only six months; the women at

home, and in Germany also, had always shown great deference to their husbands' wishes. But at that moment

I almost wished Major Worth and Jack and Bowen and the messchest at the bottom of the Rio Colorado.

However, I nerved myself for the effort, and when Bowen had his campfire made, he came and called me.

At the best, I never had much confidence in my ability as a cook, but as a camp cook! Ah, me! Everything

seemed to swim before my eyes, and I fancied that the other women were looking at me from their tents.

Bowen was very civil, turned back the cover of the messchest and propped it up. That was the table. Then

he brought me a tin basin, and some flour, some condensed milk, some sugar, and a rollingpin, and then he

hung a campkettle with lard in it over the fire. I stirred up a mixture in the basin, but the humiliation of

failure was spared me, for just then, without warning, came one of those terrific sandstorms which prevail on

the deserts of Arizona, blowing us all before it in its fury, and filling everything with sand.

We all scurried to the tents; some of them had blown down. There was not much shelter, but the storm was

soon over, and we stood collecting our scattered senses. I saw Mrs. Wilkins at the door of her tent. She

beckoned to me; I went over there, and she said: "Now, my dear, I am going to give you some advice. You

must not take it unkindly. I am an old army woman and I have made many campaigns with the Colonel; you

have but just joined the army. You must never try to do any cooking at the campfire. The soldiers are there

"Never mind Jack," said she; "he does not know as much as I do about it; and when you reach your post," she

Bowen cleared away the sandy remains of the doubtful dough, and prepared for us a very fair supper.

While waiting for the sun to set, we took a short stroll over to the adobe ruins. Inside the enclosure lay an

enormous rattlesnake, coiled. It was the first one I had ever seen except in a cage, and I was fascinated by the

horror of the round, grayishlooking heap, so near the color of the sand on which it lay. Some soldiers came

and killed it. But I noticed that Bowen took extra pains that night, to spread buffalo robes under our

mattresses, and to place around them a hair lariat. "Snakes won't cross over that," he said, with a grin.

Bowen was a character. Originally from some farm in Vermont, he had served some years with the Eighth

Infantry, and for a long time in the same company under Major Worth, and had cooked for the bachelors'

mess. He was very tall, and had a goodnatured face, but he did not have much opinion of what is known as

etiquette, either military or civil; he seemed to consider himself a sort of protector to the officers of Company

K, and now, as well, to the woman who had joined the company. He took us all under his wing, as it were,

and although he had to be sharply reprimanded sometimes, in a kind of language which he seemed to expect,

This was my first night under canvas in the army. I did not like those desert places, and they grew to have a

At four o'clock in the morning the cook's call sounded, the mules were fed, and the crunching and the braying

were something to awaken the heaviest sleepers. Bowen called us. I was much upset by the dreadful dust,

which was thick upon everything I touched. We had to hasten our toilet, as they were striking tents and

breaking camp early, in order to reach before noon the next place where there was water. Sitting on

campstools, around the messtables, in the open, before the break of day, we swallowed some black coffee

and ate some rather thick slices of bacon and dry bread. The Wilkins' tent was near ours, and I said to them,

Miss Wilkins looked up with her sweet smile and gentle manner and replied: "Why, yes, Mrs. Summerhayes,

"How can I help it?" I said; "my hair, my clothes, everything full of it, and no chance for a bath or a change: a

I suppose I was running on with all my grievances, but she stopped me and said again: "Soon, now, you will

not mind it at all. Ella and I are army girls, you know, and we do not mind anything. There's no use in fretting

Miss Wilkins' remarks made a tremendous impression upon my mind and I began to study her philosophy.

At break of day the command marched out, their rifles on their shoulders, swaying along ahead of us, in the

sunlight and the heat, which continued still to be almost unendurable. The dry white dust of this desert

I had my own canteen hung up in the ambulance, but the water in it got very warm and I learned to take but a

swallow at a time, as it could not be refilled until we reached the next springand there is always some

uncertainty in Arizona as to whether the spring or basin has gone dry. So water was precious, and we could

At about noon we reached a forlorn mud hut, known as Packwood's ranch. But the place had a bar, which was

cheerful for some of the poor men, as the two days' marches had been rather hard upon them, being so "soft"

from the long voyage. I could never begrudge a soldier a bit of cheer after the hard marches in Arizona,

through miles of dust and burning heat, their canteens long emptied and their lips parched and dry. I watched

them often as they marched along with their blanketrolls, their haversacks, and their rifles, and I used to

About that time the greatest luxury in the entire world seemed to me to be a glass of fresh sweet milk, and I

shall always remember Mr. Packwood's ranch, because we had milk to drink with our supper, and some

Ranches in that part of Arizona meant only low adobe dwellings occupied by prospectors or men who kept

the relays of animals for stage routes. Wretched, forbiddinglooking places they were! Never a tree or a bush

Our tents were pitched near Packwood's, out in the broiling sun. They were like ovens; there was no shade,

no coolness anywhere; we would have gladly slept, after the day's march, but instead we sat broiling in the

The next day dragged along in the same manner; the command marching bravely along through dust and heat

"With its best foot first And the road asliding past, An' every bloomin' campin'ground Exactly like the

Beal's Springs did not differ from the other ranch, except that possibly it was even more desolate. But a

German lived there, who must have had some knowledge of cooking, for I remember that we bought a peach

pie from him and ate it with a relish. I remember, too, that we gave him a good silver dollar for it.

The only other incident of that day's march was the suicide of Major Worth's pet dog "Pete." Having

exhausted his ability to endure, this beautiful red setter fixed his eye upon a distant range of mountains, and

ran without turning, or heeding any call, straight as the crow flies, towards them and death. We never saw

him again; a ranchman told us he had known of several other instances where a wellbred dog had given up

in this manner, and attempted to run for the hills. We had a large greyhound with us, but he did not desert.

Major Worth was much affected by the loss of his dog, and did not join us at supper that night. We kept a

nice fat quail for him, however, and at about nine o'clock, when all was still and dark, Jack entered the

Major's tent and said: "Come now, Major, my wife has sent you this nice quail; don't give up so about Pete,

The Major lay upon his campbed, with his face turned to the wall of his tent; he gave a deep sigh, rolled

himself over and said: "Well, put it on the table, and light the candle; I'll try to eat it. Thank your wife for

So the Lieutenant made a light, and lo! and behold, the plate was there, but the quail was gone! In the

darkness, our great kangaroo hound had stolen noiselessly upon his master's heels, and quietly removed the

bird. The two officers were dumbfounded. Major Worth said: "Dn my luck;" and turned his face again to

Now Major Worth was just the dearest and gentlest sort of a man, but he had been born and brought up in the

Men drank more and swore a good deal, and while I do not wish my story to seem profane, yet I would not

describe army life or the officers as I knew them, if I did not allow the latter to use an occasional strong

The incident, however, served to cheer up the Major, though he continued to deplore the loss of his beautiful

For the next two days our route lay over the dreariest and most desolate country. It was not only dreary, it

was positively hostile in its attitude towards every living thing except snakes, centipedes and spiders. They

Sometimes either Major Worth or Jack would come and drive along a few miles in the ambulance with me to

cheer me up, and they allowed me to abuse the country to my heart's content. It seemed to do me much good.

The desert was new to me then. I had not read Pierre Loti's wonderful book, "Le Desert," and I did not see

much to admire in the desolate waste lands through which we were travelling. I did not dream of the power of

the desert, nor that I should ever long to see it again. But as I write, the longing possesses me, and the

pictures then indelibly printed upon my mind, long forgotten amidst the scenes and events of half a lifetime,

unfold themselves like a panorama before my vision and call me to come back, to look upon them once more.

We made fourteen miles the next day, and went into camp at a place called Freezewash, near some old

silver mines. A bare and lonesome spot, where there was only sand to be seen, and some black,

burntlooking rocks. From under these rocks, crept great tarantulas, not forgetting lizards, snakes, and not

forgetting the scorpion, which ran along with its tail turned up ready to sting anything that came in its way.

The place furnished good water, however, and that was now the most important thing.

The next day's march was a long one. The guides said: "Twentyeight miles to Willow Grove Springs."

The command halted ten minutes every hour for rest, but the sun poured down upon us, and I was glad to stay

in the ambulance. It was at these times that my thoughts turned back to the East and to the blue sea and the

green fields of God's country. I looked out at the men, who were getting pretty well fagged, and at the young

officers whose uniforms were white with dust, and Frau Weste's words about glaenzendes Elend came to my

mind. I fell to thinking: was the army life, then, only "glittering misery," and had I come to participate in it?

Some of the old soldiers had given out, and had to be put on the army wagons. I was getting to look rather

fagged and seedy, and was much annoyed at my appearance. Not being acquainted with the vicissitudes of

the desert, I had not brought in my travellingcase a sufficient number of thin washbodices. The few I had

soon became black beyond recognition, as the dust boiled (literally) up and into the ambulance and covered

me from head to foot. But there was no help for it, and no one was much better off.

It was about that time that we began to see the outlines of a great mountain away to the left and north of us. It

Willow Grove Springs was reached at four o'clock and the small cluster of willow trees was most refreshing

to our tired eyes. The next day's march was over a rolling country. We began to see grass, and to feel that, at

last, we were out of the desert. The wonderful mountain still loomed up large and clear on our left. I thought

of the old Spanish explorers and wondered if they came so far as this, when they journeyed through that part

of our country three hundred years before. I wondered what beautiful and highsounding name they might

have given it. I wondered a good deal about that bare and isolated mountain, rising out of what seemed an

endless waste of sand. I asked the driver if he knew the name of it: "That is Bill Williams' mountain, ma'am,"

he replied, and relapsed into his customary silence, which was unbroken except by an occasional remark to

I thought of the Harz Mountains, which I had so recently tramped over, and the romantic names and legends

connected with them, and I sighed to think such an imposing landmark as this should have such a prosaic

name. I realized that Arizona was not a land of romance; and when Jack came to the ambulance, I said,

"Don't you think it a pity that such monstrous things are allowed in America, as to call that great fine

"Why no," he said; "I suppose he discovered it, and I dare say he had a hard enough time before he got to it."

We camped at Fort Rock, and Lieutenant Bailey shot an antelope. It was the first game we had seen; our

spirits revived a bit; the sight of green grass and trees brought new life to us.

Anvil Rock and old Camp Hualapais were our next two stopping places. We drove through groves of oaks,

cedars and pines, and the days began hopefully and ended pleasantly. To be sure, the roads were very rough

and our bones ached after a long day's travelling. But our tents were now pitched under tall pine trees and

I then alighted and found my little home awaiting me. The tentflaps tied open, the mattresses laid, the

blankets turned back, the camptable with candlestick upon it, and a couple of campchairs at the door of

the tent. Surely it is good to be in the army I then thought; and after a supper consisting of soldiers' hot

biscuit, antelope steak broiled over the coals, and a large cup of black coffee, I went to rest, listening to the

My mattress was spread always upon the ground, with a buffalo robe under it and a hair lariat around it, to

keep off the snakes; as it is said they do not like to cross them. I found the ground more comfortable than the

The only Indians we had seen up to that time were the peaceful tribes of the Yumas, Cocopahs and Mojaves,

who lived along the Colorado. We had not yet entered the land of the dread Apache.

The nights were now cool enough, and I never knew sweeter rest than came to me in the midst of those pine

Our road was gradually turning southward, but for some days Bill Williams was the predominating feature of

the landscape; turn whichever way we might, still this purple mountain was before us. It seemed to pervade

the entire country, and took on such wonderful pink colors at sunset. Bill Williams held me in thrall, until the

hills and valleys in the vicinity of Fort Whipple shut him out from my sight. But he seemed to have come into

my life somehow, and in spite of his name, I loved him for the companionship he had given me during those

About the middle of September, we arrived at American ranch, some ten miles from Fort Whipple, which

was the headquarters station. Colonel Wilkins and his family left us, and drove on to their destination. Some

officers of the Fifth Cavalry rode out to greet us, and Lieutenant Earl Thomas asked me to come into the post

and rest a day or two at their house, as we then had learned that K Company was to march on to Camp

We were now enabled to get some fresh clothing from our trunks, which were in the depths of the

prairieschooners, and all the officers' wives were glad to go into the post, where we were most kindly

entertained. Fort Whipple was a very gay and hospitable post, near the town of Prescott, which was the

capital city of Arizona. The country being mountainous and fertile, the place was very attractive, and I felt

sorry that we were not to remain there. But I soon learned that in the army, regrets were vain. I soon ceased to

On the next day the troops marched in, and camped outside the post. The married officers were able to join

their wives, and the three days we spent there were delightful. There was a dance given, several informal

dinners, drives into the town of Prescott, and festivities of various kinds. General Crook commanded the

Department of Arizona then; he was out on some expedition, but Mrs. Crook gave a pleasant dinner for us.

After dinner, Mrs. Crook came and sat beside me, asked kindly about our long journey, and added: "I am

truly sorry the General is away; I should like for him to meet you; you are just the sort of woman he likes." A

few years afterwards I met the General, and remembering this remark, I was conscious of making a special

effort to please. The indifferent courtesy with which he treated me, however, led me to think that women are

The officers' quarters at Fort Whipple were quite commodious, and after seven weeks' continuous travelling,

the comforts which surrounded me at Mrs. Thomas' home seemed like the veriest luxuries. I was much

affected by the kindness shown me by people I had never met before, and I kept wondering if I should ever

have an opportunity to return their courtesies. "Don't worry about that, Martha," said Jack, "your turn will

He proved a true prophet, for sooner or later, I saw them all again, and was able to extend to them the

hospitality of an army home. Nevertheless, my heart grows warm whenever I think of the people who first

welcomed me to Arizona, me a stranger in the army, and in the great southwest as well.

At Fort Whipple we met also some people we had known at Fort Russell, who had gone down with the first

detachment, among them Major and Mrs. Wilhelm, who were to remain at headquarters. We bade goodbye

to the Colonel and his family, to the officers of F, who were to stay behind, and to our kind friends of the

We now made a fresh start, with Captain Ogilby in command. Two days took us into Camp Verde, which lies

Captain Brayton, of the Eight Infantry, and his wife, who were already settled at Camp Verde, received us

and took the best care of us. Mrs. Brayton gave me a few more lessons in army housekeeping, and I could

not have had a better teacher. I told her about Jack and the tinware; her bright eyes snapped, and she said:

"Men think they know everything, but the truth is, they don't know anything; you go right ahead and have all

the tinware and other things; all you can get, in fact; and when the time comes to move, send Jack out of the

"Fiddlesticks! They all say that; now you just not mind their talk, but take all you need, and it will get carried

Still another company left our ranks, and remained at Camp Verde. The command was now getting

deplorably small, I thought, to enter an Indian country, for we were now to start for Camp Apache. Several

routes were discussed, but, it being quite early in the autumn, and the Apache Indians being just then

comparatively quiet, they decided to march the troops over Crook's Trail, which crossed the Mogollon range

and was considered to be shorter than any other. It was all the same to me. I had never seen a map of Arizona,

and never heard of Crook's Trail. Maps never interested me, and I had not read much about life in the

Territories. At that time, the history of our savage races was a blank page to me. I had been listening to the

stories of an old civilization, and my mind did not adjust itself readily to the new surroundings.

It was a fine afternoon in the latter part of September, when our small detachment, with Captain Ogilby in

command, marched out of Camp Verde. There were two companies of soldiers, numbering about a hundred

men in all, five or six officers, Mrs. Bailey and myself, and a couple of laundresses. I cannot say that we were

gay. Mrs. Bailey had said goodbye to her father and mother and sister at Fort Whipple, and although she

was an army girl, she did not seem to bear the parting very philosophically. Her young child, nine months

old, was with her, and her husband, as stalwart and handsome an officer as ever wore shoulderstraps. But

we were facing unknown dangers, in a far country, away from mother, father, sister and brothera country

infested with roving bands of the most cruel tribe ever known, who tortured before they killed. We could not

The travelling was very difficult and rough, and both men and animals were worn out by night. But we were

now in the mountains, the air was cool and pleasant, and the nights so cold that we were glad to have a small

stove in our tents to dress by in the mornings. The scenery was wild and grand; in fact, beyond all that I had

ever dreamed of; more than that, it seemed so untrod, so fresh, somehow, and I do not suppose that even now,

in the day of railroads and tourists, many people have had the view of the Tonto Basin which we had one day

I remember thinking, as we alighted from our ambulances and stood looking over into the Basin, "Surely I

have never seen anything to compare with thisbut oh! would any sane human being voluntarily go through

with what I have endured on this journey, in order to look upon this wonderful scene?"

The roads had now become so difficult that our wagontrain could not move as fast as the lighter vehicles or

the troops. Sometimes at a critical place in the road, where the ascent was not only dangerous, but doubtful,

or there was, perhaps, a sharp turn, the ambulances waited to see the wagons safely over the pass. Each

At the foot of one of these steep places, the wagons would halt, the teamsters would inspect the road, and

calculate the possibilities of reaching the top; then, furiously cracking their whips, and pouring forth volley

upon volley of oaths, they would start the team. Each mule got its share of dreadful curses. I had never heard

or conceived of any oaths like those. They made my blood fairly curdle, and I am not speaking figuratively.

The shivers ran up and down my back, and I half expected to see those teamsters struck down by the hand of

For although the anathemas hurled at my innocent head, during the impressionable years of girlhood, by the

pale and determined Congregational ministers with goldbowed spectacles, who held forth in the

meetinghouse of my maternal ancestry (all honor to their sincerity), had taken little hold upon my mind,

still, the vital drop of the Puritan was in my blood, and the fear of a personal God and His wrath still existed,

This swearing and lashing went on until the heavilyloaded prairieschooner, swaying, swinging, and

swerving to the edge of the cut, and back again to the perpendicular wall of the mountain, would finally reach

the top, and pass on around the bend; then another would do the same. Each teamster had his own particular

variety of oaths, each mule had a feminine name, and this brought the swearing down to a sort of personal

basis. I remonstrated with Jack, but he said: teamsters always swore; "the mules wouldn't even stir to go up a

By the time we had crossed the great Mogollon mesa, I had become accustomed to those dreadful oaths, and

learned to admire the skill, persistency and endurance shown by those rough teamsters. I actually got so far as

to believe what Jack had told me about the swearing being necessary, for I saw impossible feats performed by

When near camp, and over the difficult places, we drove on ahead and waited for the wagons to come in. It

was sometimes late evening before tents could be pitched and supper cooked. And oh! to see the poor jaded

animals when the wagons reached camp! I could forget my own discomfort and even hunger, when I looked

One night the teamsters reported that a sixmule team had rolled down the steep side of a mountain. I did not

ask what became of the poor faithful mules; I do not know, to this day. In my pity and real distress over the

fate of these patient brutes, I forgot to inquire what boxes were on the unfortunate wagon.

We began to have some shooting. Lieutenant Bailey shot a young deer, and some wild turkeys, and we could

It did not surprise us to learn that ours was the first wagontrain to pass over Crook's Trail. For miles and

miles the socalled road was nothing but a clearing, and we were pitched and jerked from side to side of the

ambulance, as we struck large rocks or treestumps; in some steep places, logs were chained to the rear of the

ambulance, to keep it from pitching forward onto the backs of the mules. At such places I got out and picked

We now began to hear of the Apache Indians, who were always out, in either large or small bands, doing their

One day a party of horseman tore past us at a gallop. Some of them raised their hats to us as they rushed past,

and our officers recognized General Crook, but we could not, in the cloud of dust, distinguish officers from

scouts. All wore the flannel shirt, handkerchief tied about the neck, and broad campaign hat.

After supper that evening, the conversation turned upon Indians in general, and Apaches in particular. We

camped always at a basin, or a tank, or a hole, or a spring, or in some canon, by a creek. Always from water

to water we marched. Our camp that night was in the midst of a primeval grove of tall pine trees; verily, an

untrodden land. We had a big campfire, and sat around it until very late. There were only five or six

The darkness and blackness of the place were uncanny. We all sat looking into the fire. Somebody said,

Then followed a long pause; we all sat thinking, and gazing into the fire, which crackled and leaped into fitful

"Our figures must make a mighty good outline against that fire," remarked one of officers, nonchalantly; "I

dare say those stealthy sons of Satan know exactly where we are at this minute," he added.

"Yes, you bet your life they do!" answered one of the younger men, lapsing into the frontiersman's language,

"Look behind you at those trees, Jack," said Major Worth. "Can you see anything? No! And if there were an

Another pause followed; the silence was weirdonly the cracking of the fire was heard, and the mournful

Major Worth shrugged his shoulders, and turning to Jack, said, in a low tone, "D d if I don't believe I'm

No element of doubt pervaded my mind as to my own state. The weird feeling of being up in those remote

mountain passes, with but a handful of soldiers against the wary Apaches, the mysterious look of those black

treetrunks, upon which flickered the uncertain light of the campfire now dying, and from behind each one

of which I imagined a red devil might be at that moment taking aim with his deadly arrow, all inspired me

In the cyclone which had overtaken our good ship in midAtlantic, where we lay tossing about at the mercy

of the waves for thirtysix long hours, I had expected to yield my body to the dark and grewsome depths of

the ocean. I had almost felt the cold arms of Death about me; but compared to the sickening dread of the cruel

Apache, my fears then had been as naught. Facing the inevitable at sea, I had closed my eyes and said

goodbye to Life. But in this mysterious darkness, every nerve, every sense, was keenly alive with terror.

Several of that small party around the campfire have gone from amongst us, but I venture to say that ,of the

few who are left, not one will deny that he shared in the vague apprehension which seized upon us.

Midnight found us still lingering around the dead ashes of the fire. After going to our tent, Jack saw that I was

frightened. He said: "Don't worry, Martha, an Apache never was known to attack in the night," and after

hearing many repetitions of this assertion, upon which I made him take his oath, I threw myself upon the bed.

After our candle was out, I said: "When do they attack?" Jack who, with the soldiers' indifference to danger,

was already half asleep, replied: "Just before daylight, usually, but do not worry, I say; there aren't any Injuns

in this neighborhood. Why! Didn't you meet General Crook today? You ought to have some sense. If there'd

been an Injun around here he would have cleaned him out. Now go to sleep and don't be foolish." But I was

Just before dawn, as I had fallen into a light slumber, the flaps of the tent burst open, and began shaking

violently to and fro. I sprang to my feet, prepared for the worst. Jack started up: "What is it?" he cried.

"It must have been the wind, I think, but it frightened me," I murmured. The Lieutenant fastened the

tentflaps together, and lay down to sleep again; but my heart beat fast, and I listened for every sound.

The day gradually dawned, and with it my fears of the night were allayed. But ever after that, Jack's fatal

answer, "Just before daylight," kept my eyes wide open for hours before the dawn.

One fine afternoon, after a march of twentytwo miles over a rocky road, and finding our provisions low, Mr.

Bailey and Jack went out to shoot wild turkeys. As they shouldered their guns and walked away. Captain

Jack returned at sundown with a pair of fine turkeys! but Bailey failed to come in. However, as they all knew

him to be an experienced woodsman, no one showed much anxiety until darkness had settled over the camp.

Then they began to signal, by discharging their rifles; the officers went out in various directions, giving

The camp was now thoroughly alarmed. This was too dangerous a place for a man to be wandering around in

all night, and searchparties of soldiers were formed. Trees were burned, and the din of rifles, constantly

discharged, added to the excitement. One party after another came in. They had scoured the countryand

The young wife sat in her tent, soothing her little child; everybody except her, gave up hope; the time dragged

I went into Mrs. Bailey's tent. She was calm and altogether lovely, and said: "Charley can't get lost, and

Ella Bailey was a brave young army woman; she was an inspiration to the entire camp.

Finally, after hours of the keenest anxiety, a noise of gladsome shouts rang through the. trees, and in came a

party of men with the young officer on their shoulders. His friend Craig had been untiring in the search, and

at last had heard a faint "halloo" in the distance, and one shot (the only cartridge poor Bailey had left).

After going over almost impassable places, they finally found him, lying at the bottom of a ravine. In the

black darkness of the evening, he had walked directly over the edge of the chasm and fallen to the bottom,

He was some miles from camp, and had used up all his ammunition except the one cartridge. He had tried in

vain to walk or even crawl out of the ravine, but had finally been overcome by exhaustion and lay there

A desperate situation, indeed! Some time afterwards, he told me how he felt, when he realized how poor his

chances were, when he saw he had only one cartridge left and found that he had scarce strength to answer a

"halloo," should he hear one. But soldiers never like to talk much about such things.

By the fourth of October we had crossed the range, and began to see something which looked like roads. Our

animals were fagged to a state of exhaustion, but the travelling was now much easier and there was good

grazing, and after three more long day's marches, we arrived at Camp Apache. We were now at our journey's

end, after two months' continuous travelling, and I felt reasonably sure of shelter and a fireside for the winter

at least. I knew that my husband's promotion was expected, but the immediate present was filled with an

interest so absorbing, that a consideration of the future was out of the question.

At that time (it was the year of 1874) the officers' quarters at Camp Apache were log cabins, built near the

edge of the deep canon through which the White Mountain River flows, before its junction with Black River.

We were welcomed by the officers of the Fifth Cavalry, who were stationed there. It was altogether

picturesque and attractive. In addition to the row of log cabins, there were enormous stables and Government

buildings, and a cutler's store. We were entertained for a day or two, and then quarters were assigned to us.

The second lieutenants had rather a poor choice, as the quarters were scarce. We were assigned a half of a log

cabin, which gave us one room, a small square hall, and a bare shed, the latter detached from the house, to be

used for a kitchen. The room on the other side of the hall was occupied by the Post Surgeon, who was

Our things were unloaded and brought to this cabin. I missed the barrel of china, and learned that it had been

on the unfortunate wagon which rolled down the mountainside. I had not attained that state of mind which

came to me later in my army life. I cared then a good deal about my belongings, and the annoyance caused by

the loss of our china was quite considerable. I knew there was none to be obtained at Camp Apache, as most

Mrs. Dodge, of the Twentythird Infantry, who was about to leave the post, heard of my predicament, and

offered me some china plates and cups, which she thought not worth the trouble of packing (so she said), and

Bowen nailed down our one carpet over the poor board floor (after having first sprinkled down a thick layer

of clean straw, which he brought from the quartermaster stables). Two iron cots from the hospital were

brought over, and two bedsacks filled with fresh, sweet straw, were laid upon them; over these were laid our

We untied our folding chairs, built a fire on the hearth, captured an old brokenlegged washstand and a

round table from somewhere, and that was our livingroom. A pine table was found for the small hall, which

was to be our dinningroom, and some chairs with rawhide seats were brought from the barracks, some

shelves knocked up against one wall, to serve as sideboard. Now for the kitchen!

A cookingstove and various things were sent over from the Q. M. storehouse, and Bowen (the wonder of

it!) drove in nails, and hung up my Fort Russell tinware, and put up shelves and stood my pans in rows, and

polished the stove, and went out and stole a table somewhere (Bowen was invaluable in that way), polished

the zinc under the stove, and lo! and behold, my army kitchen! Bowen was indeed a treasure; he said he

would like to cook for us, for ten dollars a month. We readily accepted this offer. There were no persons to be

obtained, in these distant places, who could do the cooking in the families of officers, so it was customary to

employ a soldier; and the soldier often displayed remarkable ability in the way of cooking, in some cases, in

fact, more than in the way of soldiering. They liked the little addition to their pay, if they were of frugal

mind; they had also their own quiet room to sleep in, and I often thought the family life, offering as it did a

contrast to the bareness and desolation of the noisy barracks, appealed to the domestic instinct, so strong in

some men's natures. At all events, it was always easy in those days to get a man from the company, and they

sometimes remained for years with an officer's family; in some cases attending drills and rollcalls besides.

Now came the unpacking of the chests and trunks. In our one diminutive room, and small hall, was no closet,

there were no hooks on the bare walls, no place to hang things or lay things, and what to do I did not know. I

was in despair; Jack came in, to find me sitting on the edge of a chest, which was half unpacked, the contents

"Put them back in the chests,and get them out as you need them," said this son of Mars, and buckled on his

sword. "Do the best you can, Martha, I have to go to the barracks; be back again soon." I looked around me,

and tried to solve the problem. There was no bureau, nothing; not a nook or corner where a thing might be

stowed. I gazed at the motley collection of bedlinen, dustpans, silver bottles, boot jacks, saddles, old

uniforms, full dress military hats, swordbelts, ridingboots, cut glass, windowshades, lamps,

workbaskets, and books, and I gave it up in despair. You see, I was not an army girl, and I did not know

There was nothing to be done, however, but to follow Jack's advice, so I threw the boots, saddles and

equipments under the bed, and laid the other things back in the chests, closed the lids and went out to take a

look at the post. Towards evening, a soldier came for orders for beef, and I learned how to manage that. I was

told that we bought our meats direct from the contractor; I had to state how much and what cuts I wished.

Another soldier came to bring us milk, and I asked Jack who was the milkman, and he said, blessed if he

knew; I learned, afterwards, that the soldiers roped some of the wild Texas cows that were kept in one of the

Government corrals, and tied them securely to keep them from kicking; then milked them, and the milk was

divided up among the officers' families, according to rank. We received about a pint every night. I declared it

was not enough; but I soon discovered that however much education, position and money might count in civil

life, rank seemed to be the one and only thing in the army, and Jack had not much of that just then.

The question of getting settled comfortably still worried me, and after a day of two, I went over to see what

Mrs. Bailey had done. To my surprise, I found her out playing tennis, her little boy asleep in the

babycarriage, which they had brought all the way from San Francisco, near the court. I joined the group, and

afterwards asked her advice about the matter. She laughed kindly, and said: "Oh! you'll get used to it, and

things will settle themselves. Of course it is troublesome, but you can have shelves and such thingsyou'll

I concluded that my New England bringing up had been too serious, and wondered if I had made a dreadful

mistake in marrying into the army, or at least in following my husband to Arizona. I debated the question

with myself from all sides, and decided then and there that young army wives should stay at home with their

mothers and fathers, and not go into such wild and uncouth places. I thought my decision irrevocable.

Before the two small deep windows in our room we hung some Turkey red cotton, Jack built in his spare

moments a couch for me, and gradually our small quarters assumed an appearance of comfort. I turned my

attention a little to social matters. We dined at Captain Montgomery's (the commanding officer's) house; his

wife was a famous Washington beauty. He had more rank, consequently more rooms, than we had, and their

There was much that was new and interesting at the post. The Indians who lived on this reservation were the

White Mountain Apaches, a fierce and cruel tribe, whose depredations and atrocities had been carried on for

years, in and around, and, indeed, far away from their mountain homes. But this tribe was now under

surveillance of the Government, and guarded by a strong garrison of cavalry and infantry at Camp Apache.

They were divided into bands, under Chiefs Pedro, Diablo, Patone and Cibiano; they came into the post twice

a week to be counted, and to receive their rations of beef, sugar, beans, and other staples, which Uncle Sam's

In the absence of other amusement, the officers' wives walked over to witness this rather solemn ceremony.

At least, the serious expression on the faces of the Indians, as they received their rations, gave an air of

Large stakes were driven into the ground; at each stake, sat or stood the leader of a band; a sort of father to

his people; then the rest of them stretched out in several long lines, young bucks and old ones, squaws and

pappooses, the families together, about seventeen hundred souls in all. I used to walk up and down between

the lines, with the other women, and the squaws looked at our clothes and chuckled, and made some of their

inarticulate remarks to each other. The bucks looked admiringly at the white women, especially at the cavalry

beauty, Mrs. Montgomery, although I thought that Chief Diablo cast a special eye at our young Mrs. Bailey,

Diablo was a handsome fellow. I was especially impressed by his extraordinary good looks.

This tribe was quiet at that time, only a few renegades escaping into the hills on their wild adventures: but I

never felt any confidence in them and was, on the whole, rather afraid of them. The squaws were shy, and

seldom came near the officers' quarters. Some of the younger girls were extremely pretty; they had delicate

hands, and small feet encased in wellshaped moccasins. They wore short skirts made of stripped bark,

which hung gracefully about their bare knees and supple limbs, and usually a sort of lownecked camisa,

made neatly of coarse, unbleached muslin, with a band around the neck and arms, and, in cold weather a

pretty blanket was wrapped around their shoulders and fastened at the breast in front. In summer the blanket

was replaced by a square of bright calico. Their coarse, black hair hung in long braids in front over each

shoulder, and nearly all of them wore an even bang or fringe over the forehead. Of course hats were unheard

of. The Apaches, both men and women, had not then departed from the customs of their ancestors, and still

retained the extraordinary beauty and picturesqueness of their aboriginal dress. They wore sometimes a fine

buckskin upper garment, and if of high standing in the tribe, necklaces of elks teeth.

The young lieutenants sometimes tried to make up to the prettiest ones, and offered them trinkets, pretty

boxes of soap, beads, and small mirrors (so dear to the heart of the Indian girl), but the young maids were coy

Once or twice, I saw older squaws with horribly disfigured faces. I supposed it was the result of some

ravaging disease, but I learned that it was the custom of this tribe, to cut off the noses of those women who

were unfaithful to their lords. Poor creatures, they had my pity, for they were only children of Nature, after

all, living close to the earth, close to the pulse of their mother. But this sort of punishment seemed to be the

Bowen proved to be a fairly good cook, and I ventured to ask people to dinner in our little hall diningroom,

a veritable box of a place. One day, feeling particularly ambitious to have my dinner a success, I made a bold

attempt at oyster patties. With the confidence of youth and inexperience, I made the pastry, and it was a

success; I took a can of Baltimore oysters, and did them up in a fashion that astonished myself, and when,

after the soup, each guest was served with a hot oyster patty, one of the cavalry officers fairly gasped. "Oyster

"And by Holy Jerusalem! they are good, too," claimed Captain Reilly, and turning to Bowen, he said:

Bowen straightened himself up to his six foot two, clapped his heels together, and came to "attention," looked

I thought I heard Captain Reilly say in an undertone to his neighbor, "The hell he did," but I was not sure.

At that season, we got excellent wild turkeys there, and good Southdown mutton, and one could not complain

But I could never get accustomed to the wretched small space of one room and a hall; for the kitchen, being

detached, could scarcely be counted in. I had been born and brought up in a spacious house, with plenty of

bedrooms, closets, and an immense oldtime garret. The forlorn makeshifts for closets, and the absence of all

conveniences, annoyed me and added much to the difficulties of my situation. Added to this, I soon

discovered that my husband had a penchant for buying and collecting things which seemed utterly worthless

to me, and only added to the number of articles to be handled and packed away. I begged him to refrain, and

to remember that he was married, and that we had not the money to spend in such ways. He really did try to

improve, and denied himself the taking of many an alluring share in raffles for old saddles, pistols, guns, and

But an auction of condemned hospital stores was too much for him, and he came in triumphantly one day,

"Oh! they are splendid," he said, "and they will come in mighty handy some time."

I saw that he loved tools and instruments, and I reflected, why not? There are lots of things I have a passion

for, and love, just as he loves those things and I shall never say any more about it. "Only," I added, aloud, "do

not expect me to pack up such trash when we come to move; you will have to look out for it yourself."

So with that spiteful remark from me, the episode of the forceps was ended, for the time at least.

As the winter came on, the isolation of the place had a rather depressing effect upon us all. The officers were

engaged in their various duties: drill, courtsmartial, instruction, and other military occupations. They found

some diversion at "the store," where the ranchmen assembled and told frontier stories and played exciting

games of poker. Jack's duties as commissary officer kept him much away from me, and I was very lonely.

The mail was brought in twice a week by a soldier on horseback. When he failed to come in at the usual time,

much anxiety was manifested, and I learned that only a short time before, one of the mailcarriers had been

killed by Indians and the mail destroyed. I did not wonder that on mailday everybody came out in front of

the quarters and asked: "Is the mailcarrier in?" And nothing much was done or thought of on that day, until

we saw him come jogging in, the mailbag tied behind his saddle. Our letters were from two to three weeks

old. The eastern mail came via Santa Fe to the terminus of the railroad, and then by stage; for in 1874, the

railroads did not extend very far into the Southwest. At a certain point on the old New Mexico road, our man

"I do not understand," I said, "how any soldier can be found to take such a dangerous detail."

"I should think that when they got into those canons and narrow defiles, they would think of the horrible fate

"Perhaps they do," he answered; "but a soldier is always glad to get a detail that gives him a change from the

I was getting to learn about the indomitable pluck of our soldiers. They did not seem to be afraid of anything.

At Camp Apache my opinion of the American soldier was formed, and it has never changed. In the long

march across the Territory, they had cared for my wants and performed uncomplainingly for me services

usually rendered by women. Those were before the days of lineal promotion. Officers remained with their

regiments for many years. A feeling of regimental prestige held officers and men together. I began to share

that feeling. I knew the names of the men in the company, and not one but was ready to do a service for the

"Lieutenant's wife." "K" had long been a bachelor company; and now a young woman had joined it. I was a

person to be pampered and cared for, and they knew besides that I was not long in the army.

During that winter I received many a wild turkey and other nice things for the table, from the men of the

company. I learned to know and to thoroughly respect the enlisted man of the American army.

And now into the varied kaleidoscope of my army life stepped the Indian Agent. And of all unkempt,

unshorn, disagreeablelooking personages who had ever stepped foot into our quarters, this was the worst.

"Heaven save us from a Government which appoints such men as that to watch over and deal with Indians,"

cried I, as he left the house. "Is it possible that his position here demands social recognition?" I added.

"Hush!" said the second lieutenant of K company. "It's the Interior Department that appoints the Indian

Agents, and besides," he added, "it's not good taste on your part, Martha, to abuse the Government which

"Well, you can say what you like, and preach policy all you wish, no Government on earth can compel me to

associate with such men as those!" With that assertion, I left the room, to prevent farther argument.

And I will here add that in my experience on the frontier, which extended over a long period, it was never my

good fortune to meet with an Indian Agent who impressed me as being the right sort of a man to deal with

those children of nature, for Indians are like children, and their intuitions are keen. They know and appreciate

The winter came on apace, but the weather was mild and pleasant. One day some officers came in and said

we must go over to the "Ravine" that evening, where the Indians were going to have a rare sort of a dance.

There was no one to say to me: "Do not go," and, as we welcomed any little excitement which would relieve

the monotony of our lives, we cast aside all doubts of the advisability of my going. So, after dinner, we joined

the others, and sallied forth into the darkness of an Arizona night. We crossed the large paradeground, and

picked our way over a rough and pathless country, lighted only by the stars above.

Arriving at the edge of the ravine, what a scene was before us! We looked down into a natural amphitheatre,

in which blazed great fires; hordes of wild Apaches darted about, while others sat on logs beating their

I was afraid, and held back, but the rest of the party descended into the ravine, and, leaning on a good strong

arm, I followed. We all sat down on the great trunk of a fallen tree, and soon the dancers came into the arena.

They were entirely naked, except for the loincloth; their bodies were painted, and from their elbows and

knees stood out bunches of feathers, giving them the appearance of huge flying creatures; jingling things

were attached to their necks and arms. Upon their heads were large frames, made to resemble the branching

horns of an elk, and as they danced, and bowed their heads, the horns lent them the appearance of some

unknown animal, and added greatly to their height. Their feathers waved, their jingles shook, and their

painted bodies twisted and turned in the light of the great fire, which roared and leaped on high. At one

The noise of the tomtoms and the harsh shouts of the Indians grew wilder and wilder. It was weird and

terrifying. Then came a pause; the arena was cleared, and with much solemnity two wickedlooking

creatures came out and performed a sort of shadow dance, brandishing knives as they glided through the

It was a fascinating but unearthly scene, and the setting completed the illusion. Fright deprived me of the

power of thought, but in a sort of subconscious way I felt that Orpheus must have witnessed just such mad

revels when he went down into Pluto's regions. Suddenly the shouts became war whoops, the demons

brandished their knives madly, and nodded their branching horns; the tomtoms were beaten with a dreadful

din, and terror seized my heart. What if they be treacherous, and had lured our small party down into this

ravine for an ambush! The thing could well be, I thought. I saw uneasiness in the faces of the other women,

and by mutual consent we got up and slowly took our departure. I barely had strength to climb up the steep

Scarce three months after that some of the same band of Indians fired into the garrison and fled to the

mountains. I remarked to Jack, that I thought we were very imprudent to go to see that dance, and he said he

supposed we were. But I had never regarded life in such a light way as he seemed to.

Women usually like to talk over their trials and their wonderful adventures, and that is why I am writing this,

The cavalry beauty seemed to look at this frontier life philosophicallywhat she really thought about it, I

never knew. Mrs. Bailey was so much occupied by the care of her young child and various outdoor

amusements, that she did not, apparently, think much about things that happened around us. At all events, she

never seemed inclined to talk about them. There was no one else to talk to; the soil was strange, and the

atmosphere a foreign one to me; life did not seem to be taken seriously out there, as it was back in New

England, where they always loved to sit down and talk things over. I was downright lonesome for my mother

I could not go out very much at that time, so I occupied myself a good deal with needlework.

One evening we heard firing across the canon. Jack caught up his sword, buckling on his belt as he went out.

"Injuns fighting on the other side of the river," some soldier reported. Finding that it did not concern us, Jack

said, "Come out into the back yard, Martha, and look over the stockade, and I think you can see across the

river." So I hurried out to the stockade, but Jack, seeing that I was not tall enough, picked up an empty box

that stood under the window of the room belonging to the Doctor, when, thud! fell something out onto the

ground, and rolled away. I started involuntarily. It was dark in the yard. I stood stock still. "What was that?" I

"Nothing but an old Edam cheese," said this truehearted soldier of mine. I knew it was not a cheese, but said

no more. I stood up on the box, watched the firing like a man, and went quietly back into the quarters. After

retiring, I said, "You might just a swell tell me now, you will have to sooner or later, what was in the boxit

"Well," said he, "if you must know, it was an Injun's head that the Doctor had saved, to take to Washington

with him. It had a sort of a malformed skull or jawbone or something. But he left it behindI guess it got a

leetle to old for him to carry," he laughed. "Somebody told me there was a head in the yard, but I forgot all

about it. Lucky thing you didn't see it, wasn't it? I suppose you'd been scaredwell, I must tell the fatigue

party tomorrow to take it away. Now don't let me forget it," and this soldier of many battles fell into the

The next day I overheard him telling Major Worth what had happened, and adding that he would roast that

Doctor if he ever came back. I was seeing the rugged side of life, indeed, and getting accustomed to shocks.

Now the cavalry beauty gave a dinner. It was lovely; but in the midst of it, we perceived a sort of confusion

of moccasined footsteps outside the diningroom. My nerves were, by this time, always on the alert. I

glanced through the large door opening out into the hall, and saw a group of Indian scouts; they laid a

coffeesack down by the corner fireplace, near the front door. The commanding officer left the table hastily;

I had heard tales of atrocious cruelties committed by a band of Indians who had escaped from the reservation

and were ravaging the country around. I had heard how they maimed poor sheep and cut off the legs of cattle

at the first joint, leaving them to die; how they tortured women, and burned their husbands and children

before their eyes; I had heard also that the Indian scouts were out after them, with orders to bring them in,

The next day I learned that the ringleader's head was in the bag that I had seen, and that the others had

surrendered and returned. The scouts were Apaches in the pay of the Government, and I always heard that, as

long as they were serving as scouts, they showed themselves loyal and would hunt down their nearest

Major Worth got tired of the monotony of a bachelor's life at Camp Apache and decided to give a dance in

his quarters, and invite the chiefs. I think the other officers did not wholly approve of it, although they felt

friendly enough towards them, as long as they were not causing disturbances. But to meet the savage Apache

on a basis of social equality, in an officer's quarters, and to dance in a quadrille with him! Well, the limit of

However, Major Worth, who was actually suffering from the ennui of frontier life in winter, and in time of

peace, determined to carry out his project, so he had his quarters, which were quite spacious, cleared and

decorated with evergreen boughs. From his company, he secured some men who could play the banjo and

guitar, and all the officers and their wives, and the chiefs with their harems, came to this novel fete. A

quadrille was formed, in which the chiefs danced opposite the officers. The squaws sat around, as they were

too shy to dance. These chiefs were painted, and wore only their necklaces and the customary loincloth,

throwing their blankets about their shoulders when they had finished dancing. I noticed again Chief Diablo's

Conversation was carried on principally by signs and nods, and through the interpreter (a white man named

Cooley). Besides, the officers had picked up many short phrases of the harsh and gutteral Apache tongue.

Diablo was charmed with the young, handsome wife of one of the officers, and asked her husband how many

ponies he would take for her, and Pedro asked Major Worth, if all those white squaws belonged to him.

The party passed off pleasantly enough, and was not especially subversive to discipline, although I believe it

Afterwards, long afterwards, when we were stationed at David's Island, New York Harbor, and Major Worth

was no longer a bachelor, but a dignified married man and had gained his star in the Spanish War, we used to

meet occasionally down by the barge office or taking a Fensterpromenade on Broadway, and we would

always stand awhile and chat over the old days at Camp Apache in '74. Never mind how pressing our mutual

engagements were, we could never forego the pleasure of talking over those wild days and contrasting them

with our then present surroundings. "Shall you ever forget my party ?" he said, the last time we met.

In January our little boy arrived, to share our fate and to gladden our hearts. As he was the first child born to

an officer's family in Camp Apache, there was the greatest excitement. All the sheepranchers and cattlemen

for miles around came into the post. The beneficent canteen, with its soldiers' and officers' clubrooms did not

exist then. So they all gathered at the cutler's store, to celebrate events with a round of drinks. They wanted to

shake hands with and congratulate the new father, after their fashion, upon the advent of the blondhaired

baby. Their great hearts went out to him, and they vied with each other in doing the handsome thing by him,

in a manner according to their lights, and their ideas of wishing well to a man; a manner, sometimes, alas!

disastrous in its results to the man! However, by this time, I was getting used to all sides of frontier life.

I had no time to be lonely now, for I had no nurse, and the only person who was able to render me service

was a laundress of the Fifth Cavalry, who came for about two hours each day, to give the baby his bath and to

arrange things about the bed. I begged her to stay with me, but, of course, I knew it was impossible.

So here I was, inexperienced and helpless, alone in bed, with an infant a few days old. Dr. Loring, our

excellent Post Surgeon, was both kind and skillful, but he was in poor health and expecting each day to be

ordered to another station. My husband was obliged to be at the Commissary Office all day, issuing rations to

But, realizing in a measure the utter helplessness of my situation, he sent a soldier up to lead a wire cord

through the thick wall at the head of my bed and out through the small yard into the kitchen. To this they

attached a big cowbell, so, by making some considerable effort to reach up and pull this wire, I could

summon Bowen, that is, if Bowen happened to be there. But Bowen seemed always to be out at drill or over

at the company quarters, and frequently my bell brought no response. When he did come, however, he was

just as kind and just as awkward as it was possible for a great big sixfoot farmersoldier to be.

But I grew weaker and weaker with trying to be strong, and one day when Jack came in and found both the

baby and myself crying, he said, manlike, "What's the matter?" I said, "I must have some one to take care of

He seemed to realize that the situation was desperate, and mounted men were sent out immediately in all

At last, a Mexican girl was found in a woodchopper's camp, and was brought to me. She was quite young

and very ignorant and stupid, and spoke nothing but a sort of Mexican "lingo," and did not understand a word

of English. But I felt that my life was saved; and Bowen fixed up a place on the couch for her to sleep, and

Jack went over to the unoccupied room on the other side of the cabin and took possession of the absent

I begged Jack to hunt up a Spanish dictionary, and fortunately one was found at the cutler's store, which,

doubtless the cutler or his predecessor had brought into the country years before.

The girl did not know anything. I do not think she had ever been inside a casa before. She had washed herself

in mountain streams, and did not know what basins and sponges were for. So it was of no use to point to the

I propped myself up in bed and studied the dictionary, and, having some idea of the pronunciation of Latin

languages, I essayed to call for warm water and various other necessary articles needed around a sick bed.

Sometimes I succeeded in getting an idea through her impervious brain, but more often she would stand

dazed and immovable and I would let the dictionary drop from my tired hands and fall back upon the pillow

in a sweat of exhaustion. Then Bowen would be called in, and with the help of some perfunctory language

and gestures on his part, this silent creature of the mountains would seem to wake up and try to understand.

And so I worried through those dreadful daysand the nights! Ah! we had better not describe them. The

poor wild thing slept the sleep of death and could not hear my loudest calls nor desperate shouts.

So Jack attached a cord to her pillow, and I would tug and tug at that and pull the pillow from under her head.

It was of no avail. She slept peacefully on, and it seemed to me, as I lay there staring at her, that not even

In desperation I would creep out of bed and wait upon myself and then confess to Jack and the Doctor next

Well, we had to let the creature go, for she was of no use, and the Spanish dictionary was laid aside.

I struggled along, fighting against odds; how I ever got well at all is a wonder, when I think of all the sanitary

precautions taken nowadays with young mothers and babies. The Doctor was ordered away and another

one came. I had no advice or help from any one. Calomel or quinine are the only medicines I remember

But to go back a little. The seventh day after the birth of the baby, a delegation of several squaws, wives of

chiefs, came to pay me a formal visit. They brought me some finely woven baskets, and a beautiful

pappoosebasket or cradle, such as they carry their own babies in. This was made of the lightest wood, and

covered with the finest skin of fawn, tanned with birch bark by their own hands, and embroidered in blue

beads; it was their best work. I admired it, and tried to express to them my thanks. These squaws took my

baby (he was lying beside me on the bed), then, cooing and chuckling, they looked about the room, until they

found a small pillow, which they laid into the basketcradle, then put my baby in, drew the flaps together,

and laced him into it; then stood it up, and laid it down, and laughed again in their gentle manner, and finally

soothed him to sleep. I was quite touched by the friendliness of it all. They laid the cradle on the table and

departed. Jack went out to bring Major Worth in, to see the pretty sight, and as the two entered the room, Jack

Major Worth tiptoed forward, and gazed into the cradle; he did not speak for some time; then, in his

inimitable way, and half under his breath, he said, slowly, "Well, I'll be dd!" This was all, but when he

turned towards the bedside, and came and shook my hand, his eyes shone with a gentle and tender look.

And now there must be a bathtub for the baby. The cutler rummaged his entire place, to find something that

might do. At last, he sent me a freshly scoured tub, that looked as if it might, at no very remote date, have

contained salt mackerel marked "A One." So then, every morning at nine o'clock, our little halfwindow was

black with the heads of the curious squaws and bucks, trying to get a glimpse of the fair baby's bath. A

Once a week this room, which was now a nursery combined with bedroom and livingroom, was overhauled

by the stalwart Bowen. The baby was put to sleep and laced securely into the pappoosebasket. He was then

carried into the kitchen, laid on the dresser, and I sat by with a book or needlework watching him, until

Bowen had finished the room. On one of these occasions, I noticed a ledger lying upon one of the shelves. I

looked into it, and imagine my astonishment, when I read: "Aunt Hepsey's Muffins," "Sarah's Indian

Pudding," and on another page, "Hasty's Lemon Tarts," "Aunt Susan's Method of Cooking a Leg of Mutton,"

and "Josie Well's Pressed Calf Liver." Here were my own, my very own family recipes, copied into Bowen's

ledger, in large illiterate characters; and on the flyleaf, "Charles Bowen's Receipt Book." I burst into a good

hearty laugh, almost the first one I had enjoyed since I arrived at Camp Apache.

The longexpected promotion to a first lieutenancy came at about this time. Jack was assigned to a company

which was stationed at Camp MacDowell, but his departure for the new post was delayed until the spring

should be more advanced and I should be able to undertake the long, rough trip with our young child.

The second week in April, my baby just nine weeks old, we began to pack up. I had gained a little in

experience, to be sure, but I had lost my health and strength. I knew nothing of the care of a young infant, and

depended entirely upon the advice of the Post Surgeon, who happened at that time to be a young man, much

better versed in the sawing off of soldiers' legs than in the treatment of young mothers and babies.

The packing up was done under difficulties, and with much help from our faithful Bowen. It was arranged for

Mrs. Bailey, who was to spend the summer with her parents at Fort Whipple, to make the trip at the same

time, as our road to Camp MacDowell took us through Fort Whipple. There were provided two ambulances

with six mules each, two baggagewagons, an escort of six calvarymen fully armed, and a guide. Lieutenant

I was genuinely sorry to part with Major Worth, but in the excitement and fatigue of breaking up our home, I

had little time to think of my feelings. My young child absorbed all my time. Alas! for the ignorance of

young women, thrust by circumstances into such a situation! I had miscalculated my strength, for I had never

known illness in my life, and there was no one to tell me any better. I reckoned upon my superbly healthy

nature to bring me through. In fact, I did not think much about it; I simply got ready and went, as soldiers do.

I heard them say that we were not to cross the Mogollon range, but were to go to the north of it, ford the

Colorado Chiquito at Sunset Crossing, and so on to Camp Verde and Whipple Barracks by the Stoneman's

Lake road. It sounded poetic and pretty. Colorado Chiquito, Sunset Crossing, and Stoneman's Lake road! I

thought to myself, they were prettier than any of the names I had heard in Arizona.

Six good cavalrymen galloped along by our side, on the morning of April 24th, 1875, as with two

ambulances, two army wagons, and a Mexican guide, we drove out of Camp Apache at a brisk trot.

The drivers were all armed, and spare rifles hung inside the ambulances. I wore a small derringer, with a

narrow belt filled with cartridges. An incongruous sight, methinks now, it must have been. A young mother,

pale and thin, a child of scarce three months in her arms, and a pistol belt around her waist!

I scarcely looked back at Camp Apache. We had a long day's march before us, and we looked ahead.

Towards night we made camp at Cooley's ranch, and slept inside, on the floor. Cooley was interpreter and

scout, and although he was a white man, he had married a young Indian girl, the daughter of one of the chiefs

and was known as a squaw man. There seemed to be two Indian girls at his ranch; they were both tidy and

The ranch had spaces for windows, covered with thin unbleached muslin (or manta, as it is always called out

there), glass windows being then too great a luxury in that remote place. There were some partitions inside

the ranch, but no doors; and, of course, no floors except adobe. Several halfbreed children, nearly naked,

stood and gazed at us as we prepared for rest. This was interesting and picturesque from many standpoints

perhaps, but it did not tend to make me sleepy. I lay gazing into the fire which was smouldering in the corner,

and finally I said, in a whisper, "Jack, which girl do you think is Cooley's wife?"

"I don't know," answered this cross and tired man; and then added, "both of 'em, I guess."

Now this was too awful, but I knew he did not intend for me to ask any more questions. I had a difficult time,

in those days, reconciling what I saw with what I had been taught was right, and I had to sort over my ideas

The two pretty squaws prepared a nice breakfast for us, and we set out, quite refreshed, to travel over the

malapais (as the great lavabeds in that part of the country are called). There was no trace of a road. A few

hours of this grinding and crunching over crushed lava wearied us all, and the animals found it hard pulling,

We crossed Silver Creek without difficulty, and arrived at Stinson's ranch, after traveling twentyfive miles,

mostly malapais. Do not for a moment think of these ranches as farms. Some of them were deserted sheep

ranches, and had only adobe walls standing in ruins. But the camp must have a name, and on the old maps of

Arizona these names are still to be found. Of course, on the new railroad maps, they are absent. They were

Mrs. Bailey had her yearold boy, Howard, with her. We began to experience the utmost inconvenience from

the lack of warm water and other things so necessary to the health and comfort of children. But we tried to

make light of it all, and the two Lieutenants tried, in a man's way, to help us out. We declared we must have

some clean towels for the next day, so we tried to rinse out, in the cold, hard water of the well, those which

we had with us, and, as it was now nightfall and there was no fire inside this apparently deserted ranch, the

two Lieutenants stood and held the wet towels before the campfire until they were dry.

Mrs. Bailey and I, too tired to move, sat and watched them and had each our own thoughts. She was an army

girl and perhaps had seen such things before, but it was a situation that did not seem quite in keeping with my

ideas of the fitness of things in general, and with the uniform in particular. The uniform, associated in my

mind with brilliant functions, guardmount, parades and fulldress weddingsthe uniform, in fact, that I

adored. As I sat, gazing at them, they both turned around, and, realizing how almost ludicrous they looked,

they began to laugh. Whereupon we all four laughed and Jack said: "Nice work for United States officers!

Thirty miles the next day, over a good road, brought us to Walker's ranch, on the site of old Camp Supply.

This ranch was habitable in a way, and the owner said we might use the bedrooms; but the wildcats about

the place were so numerous and so troublesome in the night, that we could not sleep. I have mentioned the

absence of windows in these ranches; we were now to experience the great inconvenience resulting

therefrom, for the low open spaces furnished great opportunity for the cats. In at one opening, and out at

another they flew, first across the Bailey's bed, then over ours. The dogs caught the spirit of the chase, and

added their noise to that of the cats. Both babies began to cry, and then up got Bailey and threw his heavy

campaign boots at the cats, with some fitting remarks. A momentary silence reigned, and we tried again to

sleep. Back came the cats, and then came Jack's turn with boots and travelling satchels. It was all of no avail,

and we resigned ourselves. Cruelly tired, here we were, we two women, compelled to sit on hard boxes or the

edge of a bed, to quiet our poor babies, all through that night, at that old sheepranch. Like the wretched

emigrant, differing only from her inasmuch as she, never having known comfort perhaps, cannot realize her

The two Lieutenants slipped on their blouses, and sat looking helplessly at us, waging war on the cats at

intervals. And so the dawn found us, our nerves at a tension, and our strength gonea poor preparation for

We were able to buy a couple of sheep there, to take with us for supplies, and some antelope meat. We could

not indulge, in foolish scruples, but I tried not to look when they tied the live sheep and threw them into one

Quite early in the day, we met a man who said he had been fired upon by some Indians at Sanford's Pass. We

thought perhaps he had been scared by some stray shot, and we did not pay much attention to his story.

Soon after, however, we passed a sort of old adobe ruin, out of which crept two bareheaded Mexicans, so

badly frightened that their dark faces were pallid; their hair seemed standing on end, and they looked stark

mad with fear. They talked wildly to the guide, and gesticulated, pointing in the direction of the Pass. They

had been fired at, and their ponies taken by some roving Apaches. They had been in hiding for over a day,

and were hungry and miserable. We gave them food and drink. They implored us, by the Holy Virgin, not to

What was to be done? The officers took counsel; the men looked to their arms. It was decided to go through.

Jack examined his revolver, and saw that my pistol was loaded. I was instructed minutely what to do, in case

For miles we strained our eyes, looking in the direction whence these men had come.

At last, in midafternoon, we approached the Pass, a narrow defile winding down between high hills from

this tableland to the plain below. To say that we feared an ambush, would not perhaps convey a very clear

There was not a word spoken. I obeyed orders, and lay down in the bottom of the ambulance; I took my

derringer out of the holster and cocked it. I looked at my little boy lying helpless there beside me, and at his

delicate temples, lined with thin blue veins, and wondered if I could follow out the instructions I had

received: for Jack had said, after the decision was made, to go through the Pass, "Now, Mattie, I don't think

for a minute that there are any Injuns in that Pass, and you must not be afraid. We have got to go through it

any way; but"he hesitated,"we may be mistaken; there may be a few of them in there, and they'll have a

mighty good chance to get in a shot or two. And now listen: if I'm hit, you'll know what to do. You have your

derringer; and when you see that there is no help for it, if they get away with the whole outfit, why, there's

only one thing to be done. Don't let them get the baby, for they will carry you both off andwell, you know

the squaws are much more cruel than the bucks. Don't let them get either of you alive. Now"to the

So I lay very quiet in the bottom of the ambulance. I realized that we were in great danger. My thoughts flew

back to the East, and I saw, as in a flash, my father and mother, sisters and brother; I think I tried to say a

short prayer for them, and that they might never know the worst. I fixed my eyes upon my husband's face.

There he sat, rifle in hand, his features motionless, his eyes keenly watching out from one side of the

ambulance, while a stalwart cavalryman, carbine in hand, watched the other side of the narrow defile. The

At last, as I perceived the steep slope of the road, I looked out, and saw that the Pass was widening out, and

we must be nearing the end of it. "Keep still," said Jack, without moving a feature. My heart seemed then to

stop beating, and I dared not move again, until I heard him say, "Thank God, we're out of it! Get up, Mattie!

See the river yonder? We'll cross that tonight, and then we'll be out of their God dd country!"

This was Jack's way of working off his excitement, and I did not mind it. I knew he was not afraid of

Apaches for himself, but for his wife and child. And if I had been a man, I should have said just as much and

We were now down in a flat country, and low alkali plains lay between us and the river. My nerves gradually

recovered from the tension in which they had been held; the driver stopped his team for a moment, the other

ambulance drove up alongside of us, and Ella Bailey and I looked at each other; we did not talk any, but I

believe we cried just a little. Then Mr. Bailey and Jack (thinking we were giving way, I suppose) pulled out

their big flasks, and we had to take a cup of good whiskey, weakened up with a little water from our canteens,

which had been filled at Walker's ranch in the morning. Great Heavens! I thought, was it this morning that we

left Walker's ranch, or was it a year ago? So much had I lived through in a few hours.

At a bend in the road the Mexican guide galloped up near the ambulance, and pointing off to the westward

with a graceful gesture, said: "Colorado Chiquito! Colorado Chiquito!" And, sure enough, there in the

afternoon sun lay the narrow winding river, its surface as smooth as glass, and its banks as if covered with

We drove straight for the ford, known as Sunset Crossing. The guide was sure he knew the place. But the

river was high, and I could not see how anybody could cross it without a boat. The Mexican rode his pony in

once or twice; shook his head, and said in Spanish, "there was much quicksand. The old ford had changed

much since he saw it." He galloped excitedly to and fro, along the bank of the river, always returning to the

same place, and declaring "it was the ford; there was no other; he knew it well."

But the wagons not having yet arrived, it was decided not to attempt crossing until morning, when we could

The sun was gradually sinking in the west, but the heat down in that alkali riverbottom even at that early

season of the year was most uncomfortable. I was worn out with fright and fatigue; my poor child cried

piteously and incessantly. Nothing was of any avail to soothe him. After the tents were pitched and the

campfires made, some warm water was brought, and I tried to wash away some of the dust from him, but

the alkali water only irritated his delicate skin, and his head, where it had lain on my arm, was inflamed by

the constant rubbing. It began to break out in ugly blisters; I was in despair. We were about as wretchedly off

as two human beings could be, and live, it seemed to me. The disappointment at not getting across the river,

combined with the fear that the Indians were still in the neighborhood, added to my nervousness and

produced an exhaustion which, under other circumstances, would have meant collapse.

The mournful and demoniacal cries of the coyotes filled the night; they seemed to come close to the tent, and

their number seemed to be legion. I lay with eyes wide open, watching for the day to come, and resolving

each minute that if I ever escaped alive from that lonely riverbottom with its burning alkali, and its millions

of howling coyotes, I would never, never risk being placed in such a situation again.

At dawn everybody got up and dressed. I looked in my small handmirror, and it seemed to me my hair had

turned a greyish color, and while it was not exactly white, the warm chestnut tinge never came back into it,

after that day and night of terror. My eyes looked back at me large and hollow from the small glass, and I was

in that state when it is easy to imagine the look of Death in one's own face. I think sometimes it comes, after

we have thought ourselves near the borders. And I surely had been close to them the day before.

If perchance any of my readers have followed this narrative so far, and there be among them possibly any

men, young or old, I would say to such ones: "Desist! For what I am going to tell about in this chapter, and

possibly another, concerns nobody but women, and my story will now, for awhile, not concern itself with the

Eighth Foot, nor the army, nor the War Department, nor the Interior Department, nor the strategic value of

Sunset Crossing, which may now be a railroad station, for all I know. It is simply a story of my journey from

the far bank of the Little Colorado to Fort Whipple, and then on, by a change of orders, over mountains and

My attitude towards the places I travelled through was naturally influenced by the fact that I had a young

baby in my arms the entire way, and that I was not able to endure hardship at that time. For usually, be it

remembered, at that period of a child's life, both mother and infant are not out of the hands of the doctor and

trained nurse, to say nothing of the assistance so gladly rendered by those near and dear,

The morning of the 28th of April dawned shortly after midnight, as mornings in Arizona generally do at that

season, and after a hasty camp breakfast, and a good deal of reconnoitering on the part of the officers, who

did not seem to be exactly satisfied about the Mexican's knowledge of the ford, they told him to push his

He managed to pick his way across and back, after a good deal of floundering, and we decided to try the ford.

First they hitched up ten mules to one of the heavily loaded baggagewagons, the teamster cracked his whip,

and in they went. But the quicksand frightened the leaders, and they lost their courage. Now when a mule

loses courage, in the water, he puts his head down and is done for. The leaders disappeared entirely, then the

next two and finally the whole ten of them were gone, irrevocably, as I thought. But like a flash, the officers

shouted: "Cut away those mules! Jump in there!" and amid other expletives the men plunged in, and feeling

around under the water cut the poor animals loose and they began to crawl out on the other bank. I drew a

The guide picked his way over again to the other side and caught them up, and then I began to wonder how

There lay the heavy army wagon, deep mired in the middle of the stream, and what did I see? Our army

chests, floating away down the river. I cried out: "Oh! do save our chests!" "They're all right, we'll get them

presently," said Jack. It seemed a long time to me, before the soldiers could get them to the bank, which they

did, with the aid of stout ropes. All our worldly goods were in those chests, and I knew they were soaked wet

and probably ruined; but, after all, what did it matter, in the face of the serious problem which confronted us?

In the meantime, some of the men had floated the other boxes and trunks out of the wagon back to the shore,

and were busy taking the huge vehicle apart. Any one who knows the size of an army wagon will realize that

this was hard work, especially as the wagon was mired, and nearly submerged. But the men worked

desperately, and at last succeeded in getting every part of it back onto the dry land.

Somebody stirred up the campfire and put the kettle on, and Mrs. Bailey and I mixed up a smoking strong

hot toddy for those brave fellows, who were by this time well exhausted. Then they set to work to make a

boat, by drawing a large canvas under the body of the wagon, and fastening it securely. For this Lieutenant of

One or two of the soldiers had now forded the stream on horseback, and taken over a heavy rope, which was

made fast to our improvised boat. I was acquainted with all kinds of boats, from a catamaran to a fullrigged

ship, but never a craft like this had I seen. Over the sides we clambered, however, and were ferried across the

treacherous and glassy waters of the Little Colorado. All the baggage and the two ambulances were ferried

This proceeding took all day, and of course we could get no farther, and were again obliged to camp in that

most uncomfortable riverbottom. But we felt safer on that side. I looked at the smooth surface of the river,

and its alkali shores, and the picture became indelibly impressed upon my memory. The unpleasant reality

destroyed any poetic associations which might otherwise have clung to the name of Sunset Crossing in my

After the tents were pitched, and the camp snugged up, Mr. Bailey produced some champagne and we wished

each other joy, that we had made the dangerous crossing and escaped the perils of Sanford's Pass. I am afraid

the champagne was not as cold as might have been desired, but the bottle had been wrapped in a wet blanket,

The road began now to ascend, and after twenty miles' travelling we reached a place called Updyke's Tanks.

It was a nice place, with plenty of wood and grass. The next day we camped at Jay Coxe's Tanks. It was a

hard day's march, and I was tired out when we arrived there. The ambulance was simply jerked over those

miles of fearful rocks; one could not say driven or dragged over, for we were pitched from rock to rock the

Stoneman's Lake Road was famous, as I afterwards heard. Perhaps it was just as well for me that I did not

The surefooted mules picked their way over these sharpedged rocks. There was not a moment's respite. We

asked a soldier to help with holding the baby, for my arms gave out entirely, and were as if paralyzed. The

jolting threw us all by turns against the sides of the ambulance (which was not padded), and we all got some

rather bad bruises. We finally bethought ourselves of the pappoose basket, which we had brought along in the

ambulance, having at the last moment no other place to put it. So a halt was called, we placed the tired baby

in this semicradle, laced the sides snugly over him, and were thus enabled to carry him over those dreadful

He did not cry much, but the dust made him thirsty. I could not give him nourishment without stopping the

entire train of wagons, on account of the constant pitching of the ambulance; delay was not advisable or

expedient, so my poor little son had to endure with the rest of us. The big Alsatian cavalryman held the cradle

At noon of this day we made a refreshing halt, built a fire and took some luncheon. We found a shady, grassy

spot, upon which the blankets were spread, and we stretched ourselves out upon them and rested. But we

were still some miles from water, so after a short respite we were compelled to push on. We had been getting

steadily higher since leaving Sunset Crossing, and now it began to be cold and looked like snow. Mrs. Bailey

and I found it very trying to meet these changes of temperature. A good place for the camp was found at

Coxe's Tanks, trenches were dug around the tents, and the earth banked up to keep us warm. The cool air, our

great fatigue, and the comparative absence of danger combined to give us a heavenly night's rest.

Towards sunset of the next day, which was May Day, our cavalcade reached Stoneman's Lake. We had had

another rough march, and had reached the limit of endurance, or thought we had, when we emerged from a

mountain pass and drew rein upon the high green mesa overlooking Stoneman's Lake, a beautiful blue sheet

of water lying there away below us. It was good to our tired eyes, which had gazed upon nothing but burnt

rocks and alkali plains for so many days. Our camp was beautiful beyond description, and lay near the edge

of the mesa, whence we could look down upon the lovely lake. It was a complete surprise to us, as points of

scenery were not much known or talked about then in Arizona. Ponds and lakes were unheard of. They did

not seem to exist in that drear land of arid wastes. We never heard of water except that of the Colorado or the

Gila or the tanks and basins, and irrigation ditches of the settlers. But here was a real Italian lake, a lake as

Bailey and the guide shot some wild turkeys, and as we had already eaten all the mutton we had along, the

ragout of turkey made by the soldiercook for our supper tasted better to us tired and hungry travellers,

perhaps, than a canvasback at Delmonico's tastes to the weary lounger or the overworked financier.

In the course of the day, we had passed a sort of signboard, with the rudely written inscription, "Camp

Starvation," and we had heard from Mr. Bailey the story of the tragic misfortunes at this very place of the

wellknown Hitchcock family of Arizona. The road was lined with dry bones, and skulls of oxen, white and

bleached in the sun, lying on the bare rocks. Indeed, at every stage of the road we had seen evidences of hard

travel, exhausted cattle, anxious teamsters, hunger and thirst, despair, starvation, and death.

However, Stoneman's Lake remains a joy in the memory, and far and away the most beautiful spot I ever saw

in Arizona. But unless the approaches to it are made easier, tourists will never gaze upon it.

In the distance we saw the "divide," over which we must pass in order to reach Camp Verde, which was to be

our first stopping place, and we looked joyfully towards the next day's march, which we expected would

We thought the worst was over and, before retiring to our tents for the night, we walked over to the edge of

the high mesa and, in the gathering shadows of twilight, looked down into the depths of that beautiful lake,

And indeed, in all the years I spent in Arizona afterward, I never even heard of the lake again.

I wonder now, did it really exist or was it an illusion, a dream, or the mirage which appears to the desert

traveller, to satisfy him and lure him on, to quiet his imagination, and to save his senses from utter extinction?

In the morning the camp was all astir for an early move. We had no time to look back: we were starting for a

But we soon found that the road (if road it could be called) was worse than any we had encountered. The

ambulance was pitched and jerked from rock to rock and we were thumped against the iron framework in a

most dangerous manner. So we got out and picked our way over the great sharp boulders.

One of the cavalry escort suggested my taking his horse, but I did not feel strong enough to think of mounting

a horse, so great was my discouragement and so exhausted was my vitality. Oh! if girls only knew about

these things I thought! For just a little knowledge of the care of an infant and its needs, its nourishment and

Little by little we gave up hope of reaching Verde that day. At four o'clock we crossed the "divide,"and

clattered down a road so near the edge of a precipice that I was frightened beyond everything: my senses

nearly left me. Down and around, this way and that, near the edge, then back again, swaying, swerving,

pitching, the gravel clattering over the precipice, the six mules trotting their fastest, we reached the bottom

and the driver pulled up his team. "Beaver Springs!" said he, impressively, loosening up the brakes.

As Jack lifted me out of the ambulance, I said: "Why didn't you tell me?" pointing back to the steep road.

"Oh," said he, "I thought it was better for you not to know; people get scared about such things, when they

"But," I remarked, "such a breakneck pace!" Then, to the driver, "Smith, how could you drive down that

I had been brought up in a flat country down near the sea, and I did not know the dangers of mountain

travelling, nor the difficulties attending the piloting of a sixmule team down a road like that. >From this

time on, however, Smith rose in my estimation. I seemed also to be realizing that the Southwest was a great

country and that there was much to learn about. Life out there was beginning to interest me.

Camp Verde lay sixteen miles farther on; no one knew if the road were good or bad. I declared I could not

travel another mile, even if they all went on and left me to the wolves and the darkness of Beaver Springs.

We looked to our provisions and took account of stock. There was not enough for the two families. We had

no flour and no bread; there was only a small piece of bacon, six potatoes, some condensed milk, and some

chocolate. The Baileys decided to go on; for Mrs. Bailey was to meet her sister at Verde and her parents at

Whipple. We said goodbye, and their ambulance rolled away. Our tent was pitched and the baby was laid on

The dread darkness of night descended upon us, and the strange odors of the bottomlands arose, mingling

By the light of the blazing mesquite wood, we now divided what provisions we had, into two portions: one

for supper, and one for breakfast. A very light meal we had that evening, and I arose from the messtable

Jack and I sat down by the campfire, musing over the hard times we were having, when suddenly I heard a

terrified cry from my little son. We rushed to the tent, lighted a candle, and oh! horror upon horrors! his head

and face were covered with large black ants; he was wailing helplessly, and beating the air with his tiny arms.

I seized the child, and brushing off the ants as I fled, brought him out to the fire, where by its light I

succeeded in getting rid of them all. But the horror of it! Can any mother brought up in God's country with

kind nurses and loved ones to minister to her child, for a moment imagine how I felt when I saw those

hideous, threebodied, longlegged black ants crawling over my baby's face? After a lapse of years, I cannot

The soldiers at last found a place which seemed to be free from anthills, and our tent was again pitched, but

only to find that the venomous things swarmed over us as soon as we lay down to rest.

And so, after the fashion of the Missouri emigrant, we climbed into the ambulance and lay down upon our

My long, hard journey of the preceding autumn, covering a period of two months; my trying experiences

during the winter at Camp Apache; the sudden breakup and the packing; the lack of assistance from a nurse;

the terrors of the journey; the sympathy for my child, who suffered from many ailments and principally from

lack of nourishment, added to the profound fatigue I felt, had reduced my strength to a minimum. I wonder

that I lived, but something sustained me, and when we reached Camp Verde the next day, and drew up before

Lieutenant O'Connell's quarters, and saw Mrs. O'Connell's kind face beaming to welcome us, I felt that here

"Gracious goodness! what is this?" cried the bewildered woman; "surely it cannot be your baby! You haven't

I felt sorry I had not taken him out of the basket before we arrived. I did not realize the impression it would

make at Camp Verde. After all, they did not know anything about our life at Apache, or our rough travels to

get back from there. Here were lacecurtained windows, welldressed women, smart uniforms, and, in fact,

The women of the post gathered around the broad piazza, to see the wonder. But when they saw the poor

little wan face, the blue eyes which looked sadly out at them from this rude cradle, the linen bandages

covering the back of the head, they did not laugh any more, but took him and ministered to him, as only kind

There was not much rest, however, for we had to sort and rearrange our things, and dress ourselves properly.

(Oh! the luxury of a room and a tub, after that journey!) Jack put on his best uniform, and there was no end of

visiting, in spite of the heat, which was considerable even at that early date in May. The day there would have

The next morning we set out for Fort Whipple, making a long day's march, and arriving late in the evening.

The wife of the Quartermaster, a total stranger to me, received us, and before we had time to exchange the

usual social platitudes, she gave one look at the baby, and put an end to any such attempts. "You have a sick

child; give him to me;" then I told her some things, and she said: "I wonder he is alive." Then she took him

under her charge and declared we should not leave her house until he was well again. She understood all

about nursing, and day by day, under her good care, and Doctor Henry Lippincott's skilful treatment, I saw

my baby brought back to life again. Can I ever forget Mrs. Aldrich's blessed kindness?

Up to then, I had taken no interest in Camp MacDowell, where was stationed the company into which my

husband was promoted. I knew it was somewhere in the southern part of the Territory, and isolated. The

present was enough. I was meeting my old Fort Russell friends, and under Doctor Lippincott's good care I

was getting back a measure of strength. Camp MacDowell was not yet a reality to me.

We met again Colonel Wilkins and Mrs. Wilkins and Carrie, and Mrs. Wilkins thanked me for bringing her

daughter alive out of those wilds. Poor girl; 'twas but a few months when we heard of her death, at the birth

of her second child. I have always thought her death was caused by the long hard journey from Apache to

Whipple, for Nature never intended women to go through what we went through, on that memorable journey

There I met again Captain Porter, and I asked him if he had progressed any in his courtship, and he, being

very much embarrassed, said he did not know, but if patient waiting was of any avail, he believed he might

After we had been at Whipple a few days, Jack came in and remarked casually to Lieutenant Aldrich, "Well, I

"What!" I said, "the lonely man down there on the riverthe prisoner of Chillonthe silent one? Well, they

"Of course they can," he replied, and then, turning towards the window, he ventured: "The fact is Martha, I've

been offered it, and am thinking it over." (The real truth was, that he had applied for it, thinking it possessed

"What! do I hear aright? Have your senses left you? Are you crazy? Are you going to take me to that awful

"Now, Martha, be reasonable; listen to me, and if you really decide against it, I'll throw up the detail. But

don't you see, we shall be right on the river, the boat comes up every fortnight or so, you can jump aboard

and go up to San Francisco." (Oh, how alluring that sounded to my ears!) "Why, it's no trouble to get out of

Arizona from Ehrenberg. Then, too, I shall be independent, and can do just as I like, and when I like," et

caetera, et caetera. "Oh, you'll be making the greatest mistake, if you decide against it. As for MacDowell, it's

a hell of a place, down there in the South; and you never will be able to go back East with the baby, if we

And so he piled up the arguments in favor of Ehrenberg, saying finally, "You need not stop a day there. If the

All the discomforts of the voyage on the "Newbern," and the memory of those long days spent on the river

steamer in August had paled before my recent experiences. I flew, in imagination, to the deck of the "Gila,"

and to good Captain Mellon, who would take me and my child out of that wretched Territory.

"Yes, yes, let us go then," I cried; for here came in my inexperience. I thought I was choosing the lesser evil,

and I knew that Jack believed it to be so, and also that he had set his heart upon Ehrenberg, for reasons

At the end of a week, we started forth for Ehrenberg. Our escort was now sent back to Camp Apache, and the

Baileys remained at Fort Whipple, so our outfit consisted of one ambulance and one army wagon. One or two

We travelled two days over a semicivilized country, and found quite comfortable ranches where we spent

the nights. The greatest luxury was fresh milk, and we enjoyed that at these ranches in Skull Valley. They

kept American cows, and supplied Whipple Barracks with milk and butter. We drank, and drank, and drank

again, and carried a jugful to our bedside. The third day brought us to Cullen's ranch, at the edge of the

desert. Mrs. Cullen was a Mexican woman and had a little boy named Daniel; she cooked us a delicious

supper of stewed chicken, and fried eggs, and good bread, and then she put our boy to bed in Daniel's crib. I

felt so grateful to her; and with a return of physical comfort, I began to think that life, after all, might be

Hopefully and cheerfully the next morning we entered the vast Colorado desert. This was verily the desert,

more like the desert which our imagination pictures, than the one we had crossed in September from Mojave.

It seemed so white, so bare, so endless, and so still; irreclaimable, eternal, like Death itself. The stillness was

appalling. We saw great numbers of lizards darting about like lightning; they were nearly as white as the sand

itself, and sat up on their hind legs and looked at us with their pretty, beady black eyes. It seemed very far off

from everywhere and everybody, this desertbut I knew there was a camp somewhere awaiting us, and our

mules trotted patiently on. Towards noon they began to raise their heads and sniff the air; they knew that

water was near. They quickened their pace, and we soon drew up before a large wooden structure. There were

no trees nor grass around it. A Mexican worked the machinery with the aid of a mule, and water was bought

for our twelve animals, at so much per head. The place was called Mesquite Wells; the man dwelt alone in his

desolation, with no living being except his mule for company. How could he endure it! I was not able, even

faintly, to comprehend it; I had not lived long enough. He occupied a small hut, and there he staid, year in

and year out, selling water to the passing traveller; and I fancy that travellers were not so frequent at

The thought of that hermit and his dreary surroundings filled my mind for a long time after we drove away,

and it was only when we halted and a soldier got down to kill a great rattlesnake near the ambulance, that my

thoughts were diverted. The man brought the rattles to us and the new toy served to amuse my little son.

At night we arrived at Desert Station. There was a good ranch there, kept by Hunt and Dudley, Englishmen, I

believe. I did not see them, but I wondered who they were and why they staid in such a place. They were

absent at the time; perhaps they had mines or something of the sort to look after. One is always imagining

things about people who live in such extraordinary places. At all events, whatever Messrs. Hunt and Dudley

were doing down there, their ranch was clean and attractive, which was more than could be said of the place

where we stopped the next night, a place called Tyson's Wells. We slept in our tent that night, for of all places

on the earth a poorly kept ranch in Arizona is the most melancholy and uninviting. It reeks of everything

unclean, morally and physically. Owen Wister has described such a place in his delightful story, where the

Under the burning midday sun of Arizona, on May 16th, our six good mules, with the long whip cracking

about their ears, and the ambulance rattling merrily along, brought us into the village of Ehrenberg. There

was one street, so called, which ran along on the river bank, and then a few cross streets straggling back into

the desert, with here and there a low adobe casa. The Government house stood not far from the river, and as

we drove up to the entrance the same blank white walls stared at me. It did not look so much like a prison,

after all, I thought. Captain Bernard, the man whom I had pitied, stood at the doorway, to greet us, and after

we were inside the house he had some biscuits and wine brought; and then the change of stations was talked

of, and he said to me, "Now, please make yourself at home. The house is yours; my things are virtually

packed up, and I leave in a day or two. There is a soldier here who can stay with you; he has been able to

attend to my simple wants. I eat only twice a day; and here is Charley, my Indian, who fetches the water from

A shadow fell across the sunlight in the doorway; I looked around and there stood "Charley," who had come

in with the noiseless step of the moccasined foot. I saw before me a handsome naked Cocopah Indian, who

wore a belt and a geestring. He seemed to feel at home and began to help with the bags and various

paraphernalia of ambulance travellers. He looked to be about twentyfour years old. His face was smiling

The house was a onestory adobe. It formed two sides of a hollow square; the other two sides were a high

wall, and the Government freighthouse respectively. The courtyard was partly shaded by a ramada and

partly open to the hot sun. There was a chickenyard in one corner of the inclosed square, and in the centre

stood a rickety old pump, which indicated some sort of a well. Not a green leaf or tree or blade of grass in

Inside the house there were bare white walls, ceilings covered with manta, and sagging, as they always do;

small windows set in deep embrasures, and adobe floors. Small and inconvenient rooms, opening one into

another around two sides of the square. A sort of low veranda protected by lattice screens, made from a

species of slim cactus, called ocotilla, woven together, and bound with rawhide, ran around a part of the

Our dinner was enlivened by some good Cocomonga wine. I tried to ascertain something about the source of

provisions, but evidently the soldier had done the foraging, and Captain Bernard admitted that it was difficult,

adding always that he did not require much, "it was so warm," et caetera, et caetera. The next morning I took

the reins, nominally, but told the soldier to go ahead and do just as he had always done. I selected a small

room for the baby's bath, the all important function of the day. The Indian brought me a large tub (the same

sort of a half of a vinegar barrel we had used at Apache for ourselves), set it down in the middle of the floor,

and brought water from a barrel which stood in the corral. A low box was placed for me to sit on. This was a

bachelor establishment, and there was no place but the floor to lay things on; but what with the splashing and

the leaking and the dripping, the floor turned to mud and the white clothes and towels were covered with it,

and I myself was a sight to behold. The Indian stood smiling at my plight. He spoke only a pigeon English,

I was in despair; things began to look hopeless again to me. I thought "surely these Mexicans must know how

to manage with these floors." Fisher, the steamboat agent, came in, and I asked him if he could not find me a

He finally brought in a rather forlorn looking Mexican woman leading a little child (whose father was not

known), and she said she would come to us for quinze pesos a month. I consulted with Fisher, and he said she

was a pretty good sort, and that we could not afford to be too particular down in that country. And so she

came; and although she was indolent, and forever smoking cigarettes, she did care for the baby, and fanned

And now came the unpacking of our boxes, which had floated down the Colorado Chiquito. The fine damask,

brought from Germany for my linen chest, was a mass of mildew; and when the books came to light, I could

have wept to see the pretty editions of Schiller, Goethe, and Lessing, which I had bought in Hanover, fall out

of their bindings; the latter, warped out of all shape, and some of them unrecognizable. I did the best I could,

however, not to show too much concern, and gathered the pages carefully together, to dry them in the sun.

They were my pride, my best beloved possessions, the links that bound me to the happy days in old Hanover.

I went to Fisher for everythinga large, wellbuilt American, and a kind good man. Mrs. Fisher could not

endure the life at Ehrenberg, so she lived in San Francisco, he told me. There were several other white men in

the place, and two large stores where everything was kept that people in such countries buy. These merchants

The rest of the population consisted of a very poor class of Mexicans, Cocopah, Yuma and Mojave Indians,

The duties of the army officer stationed here consisted principally in receiving and shipping the enormous

quantity of Government freight which was landed by the river steamers. It was shipped by wagon trains

across the Territory, and at all times the work carried large responsibilities with it.

I soon realized that however much the present incumbent might like the situation, it was no fit place for a

The station at Ehrenberg was what we call, in the army, "detached service." I realized that we had left the

army for the time being; that we had cut loose from a garrison; that we were in a place where good food

could not be procured, and where there were practically no servants to be had. That there was not a woman to

speak to, or to go to for advice or help, and, worst of all, that there was no doctor in the place. Besides all

this, my clothes were all ruined by lying wet for a fortnight in the boxes, and I had practically nothing to

The situation appeared rather serious; the weather had grown intensely hot, and it was decided that the only

So one day we heard the whistle of the "Gila" going up; and when she came down river, I was all ready to go

on board, with Patrocina and Jesusita,* and my own child, who was yet but five months old. I bade farewell

to the man on detached service, and we headed down river. We seemed to go down very rapidly, although the

trip lasted several days. Patrocina took to her bed with neuralgia (or nostalgia); her little devil of a child

screamed the entire days and nights through, to the utter discomfiture of the few other passengers. A young

lieutenant and his wife and an army surgeon, who had come from one of the posts in the interior, were among

the number, and they seemed to think that I could help it (though they did not say so).

*Diminutive of Jesus, a very common name amongst the Mexicans. Pronounced Haysooseta.

Finally the doctor said that if I did not throw Jesusita overboard, he would; why didn't I "wring the neck of its

worthless Mexican of a mother?" and so on, until I really grew very nervous and unhappy, thinking what I

should do after we got on board the ocean steamer. I, a victim of seasickness, with this unlucky woman and

her child on my hands, in addition to my own! No; I made up my mind to go back to Ehrenberg, but I said

I did not dare to let Doctor Clark know of my decision, for I knew he would try to dissuade me; but when we

reached the mouth of the river, and they began to transfer the passengers to the ocean steamer which lay in

the offing, I quietly sat down upon my trunk and told them I was going back to Ehrenberg. Captain Mellon

grinned; the others were speechless; they tried persuasion, but saw it was useless; and then they said

Ehrenberg had become truly my old man of the sea; I could not get rid of it. There I must go, and there I must

The week we spent going up the Colorado in June was not as uncomfortable as the time spent on the river in

August of the previous year. Everything is relative, I discovered, and I was happy in going back to stay with

Patrocina recovered, as soon as she found we were to return to Ehrenberg. I wondered how anybody could be

so homesick for such a Godforsaken place. I asked her if she had ever seen a tree, or green grass (for I could

talk with her quite easily now). She shook her mournful head. "But don't you want to see trees and grass and

Such people, such natures, and such lives, were incomprehensible to me then. I could not look at things

She took her child upon her knee, and lighted a cigarette; I took mine upon my knee, and gazed at the river

banks: they were now old friends: I had gazed at them many times before; how much I had experienced, and

how much had happened since I first saw them! Could it be that I should ever come to love them, and the

The huge mosquitoes swarmed over us in the nights from those thick clumps of arrowweed and willow, and

The June heat was bad enough, though not quite so stifling as the August heat. I was becoming accustomed to

climates, and had learned to endure discomfort. The salt beef and the Chinaman's peach pies were no longer

offensive to me. Indeed, I had a good appetite for them, though they were not exactly the sort of food

prescribed by the modern doctor, for a young mother. Of course, milk, eggs, and all fresh food were not to be

When, after a week, the "Gila" pushed her nose up to the bank at Ehrenberg, there stood the Quartermaster.

He jumped aboard, and did not seem in the least surprised to see me. "I knew you'd come back," said he. I

"Oh, well, we can make things comfortable here and get through the summer some way," he said. "I'll build

some rooms on, and a kitchen, and we can surely get along. It's the healthiest place in the world for children,

So after a hearty handshake with Captain Mellon, who had taken such good care of me on my week's voyage

up river, I being almost the only passenger, I put my foot once more on the shores of old Ehrenberg, and we

wended our way towards the blank white walls of the Government house. I was glad to be back, and content

So work was begun immediately on the kitchen. My first stipulation was, that the new rooms were to have

wooden floors; for, although the Cocopah Charley kept the adobe floors in perfect condition, by sprinkling

them down and sweeping them out every morning, they were quite impossible, especially where it concerned

white dresses and children, and the little sharp rocks in them seemed to be so tiring to the feet.

Life as we Americans live it was difficult in Ehrenberg. I often said: "Oh! if we could only live as the

Mexicans live, how easy it would be!" For they had their fire built between some stones piled up in their

yard, a piece of sheet iron laid over the top: this was the cookingstove. A pot of coffee was made in the

morning early, and the family sat on the low porch and drank it, and ate a biscuit. Then a kettle of frijoles*

was put over to boil. These were boiled slowly for some hours, then lard and salt were added, and they

simmered down until they were deliciously fit to eat, and had a thick red gravy.

Then the young matron, or daughter of the house, would mix the peculiar paste of flour and salt and water,

for tortillas, a species of unleavened bread. These tortillas were patted out until they were as large as a dinner

plate, and very thin; then thrown onto the hot sheetiron, where they baked. Each one of the family then got a

tortilla, the spoonful of beans was laid upon it, and so they managed without the paraphernalia of silver and

How I envied them the simplicity of their lives! Besides, the tortillas were delicious to eat, and as for the

frijoles, they were beyond anything I had ever eaten in the shape of beans. I took lessons in the making of

tortillas. A woman was paid to come and teach me; but I never mastered the art. It is in the blood of the

Mexican, and a girl begins at a very early age to make the tortilla. It is the most graceful thing to see a pretty

Mexican toss the waferlike disc over her bare arm, and pat it out until transparent.

This was their supper; for, like nearly all people in the tropics, they ate only twice a day. Their fare was

varied sometimes by a little carni seca, pounded up and stewed with chile verde or chile colorado.

Now if you could hear the soft, exquisite, affectionate drawl with which the Mexican woman says chile verde

you could perhaps come to realize what an important part the delicious green pepper plays in the cookery of

these countries. They do not use it in its raw state, but generally roast it whole, stripping off the thin skin and

throwing away the seeds, leaving only the pulp, which acquires a fine flavor by having been roasted or

The women were scrupulously clean and modest, and always wore, when in their casa, a lownecked and

shortsleeved white linen camisa, fitting neatly, with bands around neck and arms. Over this they wore a

calico skirt; always white stockings and black slippers. When they ventured out, the younger women put on

muslin gowns, and carried parasols. The older women wore a linen towel thrown over their heads, or, in cool

weather, the black riboso. I often cried: "Oh! if I could only dress as the Mexicans do! Their necks and arms

I have always been sorry I did not adopt their fashion of house apparel. Instead of that, I yielded to the

prejudices of my conservative partner, and sweltered during the day in highnecked and longsleeved white

dresses, kept up the table in American fashion, ate American food in so far as we could get it, and all at the

expense of strength; for our soldier cooks, who were loaned us by Captain Ernest from his company at Fort

Yuma, were constantly being changed, and I was often left with the Indian and the indolent Patrocina. At

those times, how I wished I had no silver, no table linen, no china, and could revert to the primitive customs

There was no market, but occasionally a Mexican killed a steer, and we bought enough for one meal; but

having no ice, and no place away from the terrific heat, the meat was hung out under the ramada with a piece

of netting over it, until the first heat had passed out of it, and then it was cooked.

The Mexican, after selling what meat he could, cut the rest into thin strips and hung it up on ropes to dry in

the sun. It dried hard and brittle, in its natural state, so pure is the air on that wonderful river bank. They

Patrocina often prepared me a dish of this, when I was unable to taste the fresh meat. She would pound it fine

with a heavy pestle, and then put it to simmer, seasoning it with the green or red pepper. It was most savory.

There was no butter at all during the hot months, but our hens laid a few eggs, and the Quartermaster was

allowed to keep a small lot of commissary stores, from which we drew our supplies of flour, ham, and canned

things. We were often without milk for weeks at a time, for the cows crossed the river to graze, and

sometimes could not get back until the river fell again, and they could pick their way back across the shifting

The Indian brought the water every morning in buckets from the river. It looked like melted chocolate. He

filled the barrels, and when it had settled clear, the ollas were filled, and thus the drinking water was a trifle

cooler than the air. One day it seemed unusually cool, so I said: "Let us see by the thermometer how cool the

water really is." We found the temperature of the water to be 86 degrees; but that, with the air at 122 in the

I did not see any white people at all except Fisher, Abe Frank (the mail contractor), and one or two of the

younger merchants. If I wanted anything, I went to Fisher. He always could solve the difficulty. He procured

for me an excellent middleaged laundress, who came and brought the linen herself, and, bowing to the floor,

said always, "Buenos dias, Senorita!" dwelling on the latter word, as a gentle compliment to a younger

Like the others, she was spotlessly clean, modest and gentle. I asked her what on earth they did about bathing,

for I had found the tub baths with the muddy water so disagreeable. She told me the women bathed in the

I was only too glad to avail myself of her invitation, and so, like Pharoah's daughter of old, I went with my

gentle handmaiden every morning to the river bank, and, wading in about kneedeep in the thick red waters,

we sat down and let the swift current flow by us. We dared not go deeper; we could feel the round stones

grinding against each other as they were carried down, and we were all afraid. It was difficult to keep one's

foothold, and Capt. Mellon's words were ever ringing in my ears, "He who disappears below the surface of

the Colorado is never seen again." But we joined hands and ventured like children and played like children in

these red waters and after all, it was much nicer than a tub of muddy water indoors.

A clump of low mesquite trees at the top of the bank afforded sufficient protection at that hour; we rubbed

dry, slipped on a loose gown, and wended our way home. What a contrast to the limpid, bracing salt waters of

When I thought of them, I was seized with a longing which consumed me and made my heart sick; and I

thought of these poor people, who had never known anything in their lives but those desert places, and that

muddy red water, and wondered what they would do, how they would act, if transported into some beautiful

forest, or to the cool bright shores where clear blue waters invite to a plunge.

Whenever the riverboat came up, we were sure to have guests, for many officers went into the Territory via

Ehrenberg. Sometimes the "transportation" was awaiting them; at other times, they were obliged to wait at

Ehrenberg until it arrived. They usually lived on the boat, as we had no extra rooms, but I generally asked

them to luncheon or supper (for anything that could be called a dinner was out of the question) .

This caused me some anxiety, as there was nothing to be had; but I remembered the hospitality I had

received, and thought of what they had been obliged to eat on the voyage, and I always asked them to share

At such times we heard all the news from Washington and the States, and all about the fashions, and they, in

their turn, asked me all sorts of questions about Ehrenberg and how I managed to endure the life. They were

always astonished when the Cocopah Indian waited on them at table, for he wore nothing but his geestring,

But "Charley" appealed to my aesthetic sense in every way. Tall, and wellmade, with cleancut limbs and

features, fine smooth coppercolored skin, handsome face, heavy black hair done up in pompadour fashion

and plastered with Colorado mud, which was baked white by the sun, a small feather at the crown of his head,

wide turquoise bead bracelets upon his upper arm, and a knife at his waistthis was my Charley, my

halftame Cocopah, my man about the place, my butler in fact, for Charley understood how to open a bottle

Charley also wheeled the baby out along the river banks, for we had had a fine "perambulator" sent down

from San Francisco. It was an incongruous sight, to be sure, and one must laugh to think of it. The Ehrenberg

babies did not have carriages, and the village flocked to see it. There sat the fairhaired, sixmonthsold boy,

with but one linen garment on, no cap, no stockingsand this wild man of the desert, his knife gleaming at

his waist, and his geestring floating out behind, wheeling and pushing the carriage along the sandy roads.

But this came to an end; for one day Fisher rushed in, breathless, and said: "Well! here is your baby! I was

just in time, for that Injun of yours left the carriage in the middle of the street, to look in at the store window,

and a herd of wild cattle came tearing down! I grabbed the carriage to the sidewalk, cussed the Injun out, and

here's the child! It's no use," he added, "you can't trust those Injuns out of sight."

The heat was terrific. Our cots were placed in the open part of the corral (as our courtyard was always called).

It was a desolatelooking place; on one side, the high adobe wall; on another, the freighthouse; and on the

other two, our apartments. Our kitchen and the two other rooms were now completed. The kitchen had no

windows, only open spaces to admit the air and light, and we were often startled in the night by the noise of

At such times, our soldiercook would rush into the corral with his rifle, the Lieutenant would jump up and

seize his shotgun, which always stood near by, and together they would roam through the house. But the

thieving Indians could jump out of the windows as easily as they jumped in, and the excitement would soon

be over. The violent sandstorms which prevail in those deserts, sometimes came up in the night, without

warning; then we rushed half suffocated and blinded into the house, and as soon as we had closed the

windows it had passed on, leaving a deep layer of sand on everything in the room, and on our perspiring

Then came the work, next day, for the Indian had to carry everything out of doors; and one storm was so bad

that he had to use a shovel to remove the sand from the floors. The desert literally blew into the house.

And now we saw a singular phenomenon. In the late afternoon of each day, a hot steam would collect over

the face of the river, then slowly rise, and floating over the length and breadth of this wretched hamlet of

Ehrenberg, descend upon and envelop us. Thus we wilted and perspired, and had one part of the vapor bath

without its bracing concomitant of the cool shower. In a half hour it was gone, but always left me prostrate;

then Jack gave me milk punch, if milk was at hand, or sherry and egg, or something to bring me up to normal

again. We got to dread the steam so; it was the climax of the long hot day and was peculiar to that part of the

river. The paraphernalia by the side of our cots at night consisted of a pitcher of cold tea, a lantern, matches, a

revolver, and a shotgun. Enormous yellow cats, which lived in and around the freighthouse, darted to and

fro inside and outside the house, along the ceilingbeams, emitting loud cries, and that alone was enough to

prevent sleep. In the old part of the house, some of the partitions did not run up to the roof, but were left open

(for ventilation, I suppose), thus making a fine playground for cats and rats, which darted along, squeaking,

meowing and clattering all the night through. An uncanny feeling of insecurity was ever with me. What with

the accumulated effect of the day's heat, what with the thieving Indians, the sandstorms and the cats, our

nights by no means gave us the refreshment needed by our wornout systems. By the latter part of the

summer, I was so exhausted by the heat and the various difficulties of living, that I had become a mere

Men and children seem to thrive in those climates, but it is death to women, as I had often heard.

It was in the late summer that the boat arrived one day bringing a large number of staff officers and their

wives, head clerks, and "general service" men for Fort Whipple. They had all been stationed in Washington

for a number of years, having had what is known in the army as "giltedged" details. I threw a linen towel

over my head, and went to the boat to call on them, and, remembering my voyage from San Francisco the

year before, prepared to sympathize with them. But they had met their fate with resignation; knowing they

should find a good climate and a pleasant post up in the mountains, and as they had no young children with

We asked them to come to our quarters for supper, and to come early, as any place was cooler than the boat,

lying down there in the melting sun, and nothing to look upon but those hot zinccovered decks or the ragged

The surroundings somehow did not fit these people. Now Mrs. Montgomery at Camp Apache seemed to have

adapted herself to the rude setting of a log cabin in the mountains, but these were Staff people and they had

enjoyed for years the civilized side of army life; now they were determined to rough it, but they did not know

The beautiful wife of the AdjutantGeneral was mourning over some freckles which had come to adorn her

dazzling complexion, and she had put on a large hat with a veil. Was there ever anything so incongruous as a

hat and veil in Ehrenberg! For a long time I had not seen a woman in a hat; the Mexicans all wore a linen

But her beauty was startling, and, after all, I thought, a woman so handsome must try to live up to her

reputation. Now for some weeks Jack had been investigating the sulphur well, which was beneath the old

pump in our corral. He had had a long wooden bathtub built, and I watched it with a lazy interest, and

observed his glee as he found a longshoreman or roustabout who could caulk it. The shape was exactly like a

coffin (but men have no imaginations), and when I told him how it made me feel to look at it, he said: "Oh!

you are always thinking of gloomy things. It's a fine tub, and we are mighty lucky to find that man to caulk it.

I'm going to set it up in the little square room, and lead the sulphur water into it, and it will be splendid, and

Now Jack had served in the Twentieth Massachusetts Volunteers during the Civil War, and the swamps of the

As for myself, rheumatism was about the only ailment I did not have at that time, and I suppose I did not

really sympathize with him. But this energetic and indomitable man mended the pump, with Fisher's help,

and led the water into the house, laid a floor, set up the tub in the little square room, and behold, our sulphur

After much persuasion, I tried the bath. The water flowed thick and inky black into the tub; of course the odor

was beyond description, and the effect upon me was not such that I was ever willing to try it again. Jack

beamed. "How do you like it, Martha?" said he. "Isn't it fine? Why people travel hundreds of miles to get a

I had my own opinion, but I did not wish to dampen his enthusiasm. Still, in order to protect myself in the

"Well," he said, "there are those who will be thankful to have a bath in that water; I am going to use it every

I remonstrated: "How do you know what is in that inky waterand how do you dare to use it ?"

"Oh, Fisher says it's all right; people here used to drink it years ago, but they have not done so lately, because

The Washington people seemed glad to pay us the visit. Jack's eyes danced with true generosity and glee. He

marked his victim; and, selecting the Staff beauty and the Paymaster's wife, he expatiated on the wonderful

"Why, yes, the sooner the better," said Mrs. Martin. "I'd give everything I have in this world, and all my

"It will be so refreshing just before supper," said Mrs. Maynadier, who was more conservative.

So the Indian, who had put on his dark blue waistband (or sash), made from flannel, revelled out and twisted

into strands of yarn, and which showed the supple muscles of his cleancut thighs, and who had done up an

extra high pompadour in white clay, and burnished his knife, which gleamed at his waist, ushered these

Washington women into a small apartment adjoining the bathroom, and turned on the inky stream into the

The Staff beauty looked at the black pool, and shuddered. "Do you use it?" said she.

And then I left them, directing Charley to wait, and prepare the bath for the second victim.

By and by the beauty came out. "Where is your mirror ?" cried she (for our appointments were primitive, and

mirrors did not grow on bushes at Ehrenberg); "I fancy I look queer," she added, and, in truth, she did; for our

water of the Styx did not seem to affiliate with the chemical properties of the numerous cosmetics used by

her, more or less, all her life, but especially on the voyage, and her face had taken on a queer color, with

Fortunately my mirrors were neither large nor true, and she never really saw how she looked, but when she

came back into the livingroom, she laughed and said to Jack: "What kind of water did you say that was? I

"Oh! you have probably never been much to the sulphur springs," said he, with his most superior and

"Perhaps not," she replied, "but I thought I knew something about it; why, my entire body turned such a queer

"Oh! it always does that," said this optimistic soldier man, "and that shows it is doing good."

The Paymaster's wife joined us later. I think she had profited by the beauty's experience, for she said but

The Quartermaster was happy; and what if his wife did not believe in that uncanny stream which flowed

somewhere from out the infernal regions, underlying that wretched hamlet, he had succeeded in being a

We had a merry supper: cold ham, chicken, and fresh biscuit, a plenty of good Cocomonga wine, sweet milk,

which to be sure turned to curds as it stood on the table, some sort of preserves from a tin, and good coffee. I

gave them the best to be had in the desertand at all events it was a change from the Chinaman's salt beef

and peach pies, and they saw fresh table linen and shining silver, and accepted our simple hospitality in the

Alice Martin was much amused over Charley; and Charley could do nothing but gaze on her lovely features.

"Why on earth don't you put some clothes on him?" laughed she, in her delightful way.

I explained to her that the Indian's fashion of wearing white men's clothes was not pleasing to the eye, and

told her that she must cultivate her aesthetic sense, and in a short time she would be able to admire these

But I fear that a life spent mostly in a large city had cast fetters around her imagination, and that the life at

Fort Whipple afterwards savored too much of civilization to loosen the bonds of her soul. I saw her many

times again, but she never recovered from her amazement at Charley's lack of apparel, and she never forgot

One day, in the early autumn, as the "Gila" touched at Ehrenberg, on her way down river, Captain Mellon

called Jack on to the boat, and, pointing to a young woman, who was about to go ashore, said: "Now, there's a

girl I think will do for your wife. She imagines she has bronchial troubles, and some doctor has ordered her to

Tucson. She comes from up North somewhere. Her money has given out, and she thinks I am going to leave

her here. Of course, you know I would not do that; I can take her on down to Yuma, but I thought your wife

might like to have her, so I've told her she could not travel on this boat any farther without she could pay her

In the meantime, the young woman had gone ashore and was sitting upon her trunk, gazing hopelessly about.

I could have hugged her for very joy, but I restrained myself and advised her to stay with us for awhile,

She remarked quietly: "You do not look as if it agreed with you very well, ma'am.''

Then I told her of my young child, and my hard journeys, and she decided to stay until she could earn enough

And so Ellen became a member of our Ehrenberg family. She was a fine, strong girl, and a very good cook,

and seemed to be in perfect health. She said, however, that she had had an obstinate cough which nothing

would reach, and that was why she came to Arizona. >From that time, things went more smoothly. Some

yeast was procured from the Mexican bakeshop, and Ellen baked bread and other things, which seemed like

the greatest luxuries to us. We sent the soldier back to his company at Fort Yuma, and began to live with a

I looked at Ellen as my deliverer, and regarded her coming as a special providence, the kind I had heard about

After a few weeks, Ellen was one evening seized with a dreadful toothache, which grew so severe that she

declared she could not endure it another hour: she must have the tooth out. "Was there a dentist in the place?"

"Why, yes! of course there is," said this man for emergencies; "Fisher takes out teeth, he told me so the other

Now I did not believe that Fisher knew any more about extracting teeth than I did myself, but I breathed a

Now Fisher was the steamboat agent. He stood six feet in his stockings, had a powerful physique and a

determined eye. Men in those countries had to be determined; for if they once lost their nerve, Heaven save

"I think so," he replied, quietly. "The Quartermaster says he has some forceps."

I gasped. Jack, who had left the room, now appeared, a box of instruments in his hand, his eyes shining with

So we placed Ellen in a chair, a stiff barrack chair, with a rawhide seat, and no arms.

"Mattie, you must hold the candle," said Jack. "I'll hold Ellen, and, Fisher, you pull the tooth."

So I lighted the candle, and held it, while Ellen tried, by its flickering light, to show Fisher the tooth that

Fisher looked again at the box of instruments. "Why," said he, "these are lower jaw rollers, the kind used a

"Never mind," answered the Lieutenant, "the instruments are all right. Fisher, you can get the tooth out, that's

The Lieutenant was impatient; and besides he did not wish any slur cast upon his precious instruments.

So Fisher took up the forceps, and clattered around amongst Ellen's sound white teeth. His hand shook, great

beads of perspiration gathered on his face, and I perceived a very strong odor of Cocomonga wine. He had

It was, however, too late to protest. He fastened onto a molar, and with the lion's strength which lay in his

Ellen put up her hand and felt the place. "My God! you've pulled the wrong tooth!" cried she, and so he had.

I seized a jug of red wine which stood near by, and poured out a gobletful, which she drank. The blood came

Fisher declared she had shown him the wrong tooth, and was perfectly willing to try again. I could not

The stouthearted and confiding girl allowed the second trial, and between the steamboat agent, the

This was a serious and painful occurrence. It did not cause any of us to laugh, at the time. I am sure that

When it was all over, I thanked Fisher, and Jack beamed upon me with: "You see, Mattie, my case of

Encouraged by success, he applied for a pannier of medicines, and the Ehrenberg citizens soon regarded him

as a healer. At a certain hour in the morning, the sick ones came to his office, and he dispensed simple drugs

to them and was enabled to do much good. He seemed to have a sort of intuitive knowledge about medicines

and performed some miraculous cures, but acquired little or no facility in the use of the language.

I was often called in as interpreter, and with the help of the sign language, and the little I knew of Spanish, we

And so our life flowed on in that desolate spot, by the banks of the Great Colorado.

I rarely went outside the enclosure, except for my bath in the river at daylight, or for some urgent matter. The

one street along the river was hot and sandy and neglected. One had not only to wade through the sand, but to

step over the dried heads or horns or bones of animals left there to whiten where they died, or thrown out,

possibly, when some one killed a sheep or beef. Nothing decayed there, but dried and baked hard in that

Then, the groups of Indians, squaws and halfbreeds loafing around the village and the store! One never felt

sure what one was to meet, and although by this time I tolerated about everything that I had been taught to

think wicked or immoral, still, in Ehrenberg, the limit was reached, in the sights I saw on the village streets,

The few white men there led respectable lives enough for that country. The standard was not high, and when I

thought of the dreary years they had already spent there without their families, and the years they must look

We asked my sister, Mrs. Penniman, to come out and spend the winter with us, and to bring her son, who was

in most delicate health. It was said that the climate of Ehrenberg would have a magical effect upon all

diseases of the lungs or throat. So, to save her boy, my sister made the long and arduous trip out from New

What a joy to see her, and to initiate her into the ways of our life in Arizona! Everything was new, everything

was a wonder to her and to my nephew. At first, he seemed to gain perceptibly, and we had great hopes of his

It was now cool enough to sleep indoors, and we began to know what it was to have a good night's rest.

But no sooner had we gotten one part of our life comfortably arranged, before another part seemed to fall out

of adjustment. Accidents and climatic conditions kept my mind in a perpetual state of unrest.

Our diningroom door opened through two small rooms into the kitchen, and one day, as I sat at the table,

waiting for Jack to come in to supper, I heard a strange sort of crashing noise. Looking towards the kitchen,

through the vista of open doorways, I saw Ellen rush to the door which led to the courtyard. She turned a livid

white, threw up her hands, and cried, "Great God! the Captain!" She was transfixed with horror.

I flew to the door, and saw that the pump had collapsed and gone down into the deep sulphur well. In a

second, Jack's head and hands appeared at the edge; he seemed to be caught in the debris of rotten timber.

Before I could get to him, he had scrambled half way out. "Don't come near this place," he cried, "it's all

And so it seemed; for, as he worked himself up and out, the entire structure feel in, and half the corral with it,

Jack escaped what might have been an unlucky bath in his sulphur well, and we all recovered our composure

Surely, if life was dull at Ehrenberg, it could not be called exactly monotonous. We were not obliged to seek

My confidence in Ehrenberg, however, as a salubrious dwellingplace, was being gradually and literally

undermined. I began to be distrustful of the very ground beneath my feet. Ellen felt the same way, evidently,

although we did not talk much about it. She probably longed also for some of her own kind; and when, one

morning, we went into the diningroom for breakfast, Ellen stood, hat on, bag in hand, at the door. Dreading

to meet my chagrin, she said: "Goodbye, Captain; goodbye, missis, you've been very kind to me. I'm

And she tripped out and climbed up into the dusty, rickety vehicle called "the stage." I had felt so safe about

And now I was in a fine plight! I took a sunshade, and ran over to Fisher's house. "Mr. Fisher, what shall I

Fisher bethought himself, and we went out together in the village. Not a woman to be found who would come

to cook for us! There was only one thing to do. The Quartermaster was allowed a soldier, to assist in the

Government work. I asked him if he understood cooking; he said he had never done any, but he would try, if

This proved a hopeless task, and I finally gave it up. Jack dispatched an Indian runner to Fort Yuma, ninety

miles or more down river, begging Captain Ernest to send us a soldiercook on the next boat.

This was a long time to wait; the inconveniences were intolerable: there were our four selves, Patrocina and

Jesusita, the soldierclerk and the Indian, to be provided for: Patrocina prepared carni seca with peppers, a

little boy came around with cuajada, a delicious sweet curd cheese, and I tried my hand at bread, following

How often I said to my husband. "If we must live in this wretched place, let's give up civilization and live as

"Look at them, as you pass along the street! At nearly any hour in the day you can see them, sitting under

their ramada, their backs propped against the wall of their casa, calmly smoking cigarettes and gazing at

nothing, with a look of ineffable contentment upon their features! They surely have solved the problem of

But we seemed never to be able to free ourselves from the fetters of civilization, and so I struggled on.

One evening after dusk, I went into the kitchen, opened the kitchen closet door to take out some dish, when

clatter! bang! down fell the breadpan, and a shower of other tin ware, and before I could fairly get my

breath, out jumped two young squaws and without deigning to glance at me they darted across the kitchen

They had on nothing but their birthday clothes and as I was somewhat startled at the sight of them, I stood

Charley, the Indian, was in the corral, filling the ollas, and, hearing the commotion, came in and saw just the

I said, very sternly: "Charley, how came those squaws in my closet?" He looked very much ashamed and

The weather was now fairly comfortable, and in the evenings we sat under the ramada, in front of the house,

and watched the beautiful pink glow which spread over the entire heavens and illuminated the distant

mountains of Lower California. I have never seen anything like that wonderful color, which spread itself over

sky, river and desert. For an hour, one could have believed oneself in a magician's realm.

At about this time, the sadeyed Patrocina found it expedient to withdraw into the green valleys of Lower

California, to recuperate for a few months. With the impish Jesusita in her arms, she bade me a mournful

goodbye. Worthless as she was from the standpoint of civilized morals, I was attached to her and felt sorry

Then I took a Mexican woman from Chihuahua. Now the Chihuahuans hold their heads high, and it was

rather with awe that I greeted the tall middleaged Chihuahuan lady who came to be our little son's nurse.

Her name was Angela. "Angel of light," I thought, how fortunate I am to get her!

After a few weeks, Fisher observed that the whole village was eating Ferris ham, an unusual delicacy in

Ehrenberg, and that the Goldwaters' had sold none. So he suggested that our commissary storehouse be

looked to; and it was found that a dozen hams or so had been withdrawn from their canvas covers, the covers

stuffed with straw, and hung back in place. Verily the Chihuahuan was adding to her pinmoney in a most

unworthy fashion, and she had to go. After that, I was left without a nurse. My little son was now about nine

Milk began to be more plentiful at this season, and, with my sister's advice and help, I decided to make the

one great change in a baby's life i.e., to take him from his mother. Modern methods were unknown then, and

we had neither of us any experience in these matters and there was no doctor in the place.

The result was, that both the baby and myself were painfully and desperately ill and not knowing which way

to turn for aid, when, by a lucky turn of Fortune's wheel, our good, dear Doctor Henry Lippincott came

through Ehrenberg on his way out to the States. Once more he took care of us, and it is to him that I believe I

Captain Ernest sent us a cook from Yuma, and soon some officers came for the duckshooting. There were

thousands of ducks around the various lagoons in the neighborhood, and the sport was rare. We had all the

Then came an earthquake, which tore and rent the baked earth apart. The ground shivered, the windows

rattled, the birds fell close to the ground and could not fly, the stovepipes fell to the floor, the thick walls

cracked and finally, the earth rocked to and fro like some huge thing trying to get its balance.

It was in the afternoon. My sister and I were sitting with our needlework in the livingroom. Little Harry

was on the floor, occupied with some toys. I was paralyzed with fear; my sister did not move. We sat gazing

at each other, scarce daring to breathe, expecting every instant the heavy walls to crumble about our heads.

The earth rocked and rocked, and rocked again, then swayed and swayed and finally was still. My sister

caught Harry in her arms, and then Jack and Willie came breathlessly in. "Did you feel it?" said Jack.

Sarah was silent, and I looked so reproachfully at Jack, that he dropped his light tone, and said: "It was pretty

awful. We were in the Goldwaters' store, when suddenly it grew dark and the lamps above our heads began to

rattle and swing, and we all rushed out into the middle of the street and stood, rather dazed, for we scarcely

"I do not believe it," said I; "we shall have more"; and, in fact, we did have two light shocks in the night, but

no more followed, and the next morning, we recovered, in a measure, from our fright and went out to see the

great fissures in that treacherous crust of earth upon which Ehrenberg was built.

I grew afraid, after that, and the idea that the earth would eventually open and engulf us all took possession of

My health, already weakened by shocks and severe strains, gave way entirely. I, who had gloried in the most

>From my window, one evening at sundown, I saw a weird procession moving slowly along towards the

outskirts of the village. It must be a funeral, thought I, and it flashed across my mind that I had never seen the

A man with a rude cross led the procession. Then came some Mexicans with violins and guitars. After the

musicians, came the body of the deceased, wrapped in a white cloth, borne on a bier by friends, and followed

by the little band of weeping women, with black ribosos folded about their heads. They did not use coffins at

The next day I asked Jack to walk to the graveyard with me. He postponed it from day to day, but I insisted

There was no enclosure, but the bare, sloping, sandy place was sprinkled with graves, marked by heaps of

stones, and in some instances by rude crosses of wood, some of which had been wrenched from their upright

position by the fierce sandstorms. There was not a blade of grass, a tree, or a flower. I walked about among

these graves, and close beside some of them I saw deep holes and whitnened bones. I was quite ignorant or

My heart sickened as I thought of these horrors, and I wondered if Ehrenberg held anything in store for me

worse than what I had already seen. We turned away from this unhallowed graveyard and walked to our

quarters. I had never known much about "nerves," but I began to see spectres in the night, and those ghastly

graves with their coyoteholes were ever before me. The place was but a stone's throw from us, and the

uneasy spirits from these desecrated graves began to haunt me. I could not sit alone on the porch at night, for

they peered through the lattice, and mocked at me, and beckoned. Some had no heads, some no arms, but

they pointed or nodded towards the grewsome buryingground: "You'll be with us soon, you'll be with us

"I must send you out. I see that you cannot stand it here another month,'' said Jack one day; and so he bundled

us onto the boat in the early spring, and took us down the river to meet the ocean steamer.

I left my sister and her son in Ehrenberg, and I never saw my nephew again. A month later, his state of health

became so alarming that my sister took him to San Francisco. He survived the long voyage, but died there a

At Fort Yuma we telegraphed all over the country for a nurse, but no money would tempt those Mexican

women to face an ocean voyage. Jack put me on board the old "Newbern" in charge of the Captain, waited to

see our vessel under way, then waved goodbye from the deck of the "Gila," and turned his face towards his

post and duty. I met the situation as best I could, and as I have already described a voyage on this old craft, I

shall not again enter into details. There was no stewardess on board, and all arrangements were of the crudest

description. Both my child and I were seasick all the way, and the voyage lasted sixteen days. Our misery

The passengers were few in number, only a couple of Mexican miners who had been prospecting, an irritable

The old Mexican woman sat on the deck all day, with her back against the stateroom door; she was a

There was no diversion, no variety; my little boy required constant care and watching. The days seemed

endless. Everbody bought great bunches of green bananas at the ports in Mexico, where we stopped for

The old woman was irritable, and one day when she saw the agreeable German doctor pulling bananas from

the bunch which she had hung in the sun to ripen, she got up muttering "Carramba," and shaking her fist in

his face. He appeased her wrath by offering her, in the most fluent Spanish, some from his own bunch when

Such were my surroundings on the old "Newbern." The German doctor was interesting, and I loved to talk

with him, on days when I was not seasick, and to read the letters which he had received from his family, who

He amused me by tales of his life at a wretched little mining village somewhere about fifty miles from

He had the keenest sense of humor, and as I listened to the tales of his adventures and miraculous escapes

from death at the hands of these desperate folk, I looked in his large laughing blue eyes and tried to solve the

For that he was of noble birth and of ancient family there was no doubt. There were the letters, there was the

crest, and here was the offshoot of the family. I made up my mind that he was a ne'erdoweel and a rolling

stone. He was elusive, and, beyond his adventures, told me nothing of himself. It was some time after my

Now, after we rounded Cape St. Lucas, we were caught in the long heavy swell of the Pacific Ocean, and it

was only at intervals that my little boy and I could leave our stateroom. The doctor often held him while I ran

below to get something to eat, and I can never forget his kindness; and if, as I afterward heard in San

Francisco, he really had entered the "Gate of a hundred sorrows," it would perhaps best explain his

A gentle and kindly spirit, met by chance, known through the propinquity of a sixteen days' voyage, and

Everything comes to an end, however interminable it may seem, and at last the sharp and jagged outlines of

The old "Newbern," with nothing in her but ballast, rolled and lurched along, through the bright green waters

of the outer bar. I stood leaning against the great mast, steadying myself as best I could, and the tears rolled

down my face; for I saw the friendly green hills, and before me lay the glorious bay of San Francisco. I had

left behind me the deserts, the black rocks, the burning sun, the snakes, the scorpions, the centipedes, the

Indians and the Ehrenberg graveyard; and so the tears flowed, and I did not try to stop them; they were tears

The custom officers wanted to confiscate the great bundles of Mexican cigarettes they found in my trunk, but

"No," I told them, "they were for my own use. "They raised their eyebrows, gave me one look, and put them

My beloved California relatives met us, and took care of us for a fortnight, and when I entered a Pullman car

for a nine days' journey to my old home, it seemed like the most luxurious comfort, although I had a

fourteenmonthsold child in my arms, and no nurse. So does everything in this life go by comparison.

Arriving in Boston, my sister Harriet met me at the train, and as she took little Harry from my arms she cried:

Of course we were both thinking hard of all that had happened to me since we parted, on the morning after

my wedding, two years before, and we were so overcome with the joy of meeting, that if it had not been for

the baby's white sunbonnet, I do not know what kind of a scene we might have made. That saved the

situation, and after a few days of rest and necessary shopping, we started for our old home in Nantucket. Such

But I saw sadness in their faces, and I heard it in their voices, for no one thought I could possibly live. I felt,

however, sure it was not too late. I knew the East wind's tonic would not fail me, its own child.

Stories of our experiences and misfortunes were eagerly listened to, by the family, and betwixt sighs and

laughter they declared they were going to fill some boxes which should contain everything necessary for

comfort in those distant places. So one room in our old house was set apart for this; great boxes were brought,

and day by day various articles, useful, ornamental, and comfortable, and precious heirlooms of silver and

glass, were packed away in them. It was the year of 1876, the year of the great Centennial, at Philadelphia.

Everybody went, but it had no attractions for me. I was happy enough, enjoying the healthgiving air and the

comforts of an Eastern home. I wondered that I had ever complained about anything there, or wished to leave

The poorest person in that place by the sea had more to be thankful for, in my opinion, than the richest people

in Arizona. I felt as if I must cry it out from the housetops. My heart was thankful every minute of the day

and night, for every breath of soft air that I breathed, for every bit of fresh fish that I ate, for fresh vegetables,

and for butterfor gardens, for trees, for flowers, for the good firm earth beneath my feet. I wrote the man

After eight months, in which my health was wholly restored, I heard the good news that Captain Corliss had

applied for his first lieutenant, and I decided to join him at once at Camp MacDowell.

Although I had not wholly forgotten that Camp MacDowell had been called by very bad names during our

stay at Fort Whipple, at the time that Jack decided on the Ehrenberg detail, I determined to brave it, in all its

unattractiveness, isolation and heat, for I knew there was a garrison and a Doctor there, and a few officers'

families, I knew supplies were to be obtained and the ordinary comforts of a faroff post. Then too, in my

summer in the East I had discovered that I was really a soldier's wife and I must go back to it all. To the army

with its glitter and its misery, to the post with its discomforts, to the soldiers, to the drills, to the buglecalls,

to the monotony, to the heat of Southern Arizona, to the uniform and the stalwart Captains and gay

The last nails were driven in the precious boxes, and I started overland in November with my little son, now

"Overland" in those days meant nine days from New York to San Francisco. Arriving in Chicago, I found it

impossible to secure a section on the Pullman car so was obliged to content myself with a lower berth. I did

On entering the section, I saw an enormous pair of queer cow hide shoes, the very queerest shoes I had ever

seen, lying on the floor, with a much used travelling bag. I speculated a good deal on the shoes, but did not

see the owner of them until several hours later, when a short thickset German with sandy closecut beard

His face shone with pleasure and he explained to me that they were made in Russia and he always wore them

But with the inexperience and fearlessness of youth, I entered into a most delightful conversation in German

with him. I found him rather an extraordinarily well educated gentleman and he said he lived in Nevada, but

had been over to Vienna to place his little boy at a military school, "as," he said, "there is nothing like a

uniform to give a boy selfrespect." He said his wife had died several months before. I congratulated myself

The next day, as we sat opposite each other chatting, always in German, he paused, and fixing his eyes rather

steadily upon me he remarked: "Do you think I put on mourning when my wife died? no indeed, I put on

white kid gloves and had a fiddler and danced at the grave. All this mourning that people have is utter

I was amazed at the turn his conversation had taken and sat quite still, not knowing just what to say or to do.

After awhile, he looked at me steadily, and said, very deferentially, "Madame, the spirit of my dead wife is

By this time I realized that the man was a maniac, and I had always heard that one must agree with crazy

people, so I nodded, and that seemed to satisfy him, and bye and bye after some minutes which seemed like

The tension was broken and I appealed to a very nice looking woman who happened to be going to some

place in Nevada near which this Doctor lived, and she said, when I told her his name, "Why, yes, I heard of

him before I left home, he lives in Silver City, and at the death of his wife, he went hopelessly insane, but,"

This was a nice fix, to be sure, and I staid over in her section all day, and late that night the Doctor arrived at

the junction where he was to take another train. So I slept in peace, after a considerable agitation.

In San Francisco I learned that I could now go as far as Los Angeles by rail, thence by steamer to San Diego,

and so on by stage to Fort Yuma, where my husband was to meet me with an ambulance and a wagon.

I was enchanted with the idea of avoiding the long seatrip down the Pacific coast, but sent my boxes down

by the Steamer "Montana," sister ship of the old "Newbern," and after a few days' rest in San Francisco, set

forth by rail for Los Angeles. At San Pedro, the port of Los Angeles, we embarked for San Diego. It was a

heavenly night. I sat on deck enjoying the calm sea, and listening to the romantic story of Lieutenant Philip

Reade, then stationed at San Diego. He was telling the story himself, and I had never read or heard of

Then, too, aside from the story, Mr. Reade was a very goodlooking and chivalrous young army officer. He

was returning to his station in San Diego, and we had this pleasant opportunity to renew what had been a very

The calm waters of the Pacific, with their long and gentle swell, the pale light of the full moon, our steamer

gliding so quietly along, the soft air of the California coast, the absence of noisy travellers, these made a fit

setting for the story of his early love and marriage, and the tragic mystery which surrounded the death of his

All the romance which lived and will ever live in me was awake to the story, and the hours passed all too

But a cry from my little boy in the nearby deck stateroom recalled me to the realities of life and I said

Mr. Reade wears now a star on his shoulder, and well earned it is, too. I wonder if he has forgotten how he

helped to bind up my little boy's finger which had been broken in an accident on the train from San Francisco

to Los Angeles? or how he procured a surgeon for me on our arrival there, and got a comfortable room for us

at the hotel? or how he took us to drive (with an older lady for a chaperon), or how he kindly cared for us

until we were safely on the boat that evening? If I had ever thought chivalry dead, I learned then that I had

San Diego charmed me, as we steamed, the next morning, into its shining bay. But as our boat was two hours

late and the stagecoach was waiting, I had to decline Mr. Reade's enchanting offers to drive us around the

beautiful place, to show me the fine beaches, and his quarters, and all other points of interest in this old town

Arizona, not San Diego, was my destination, so we took a hasty breakfast at the hotel and boarded the stage,

The driver waited for no ceremonies, muttered something about being late, cracked his whip, and away we

went. I tried to stow myself and my little boy and my belongings away comfortably, but the road was rough

and the coach swayed, and I gave it up.There were passengers on top of the coach, and passengers inside the

coach. One woman who was totally deaf, and some miners and blacksmiths, and a few other men, the flotsam

and jetsam of the Western countries, who come from no one knoweth whence, and who go, no one knoweth

They seemed to want to be kind to me. Harry got very stagesick and gave us much trouble, and they all

helped me to hold him. Night came. I do not remember that we made any stops at all; if we did, I have

forgotten them. The night on that stagecoach can be better imagined than described. I do not know of any

adjectives that I could apply to it. Just before dawn, we stopped to change horses and driver, and as the day

The great Concord coach slipped and slid and swayed on its huge springs as we rounded the curves.

The road was narrow and appeared to be cut out of solid rock, which seemed to be as smooth as soapstone;

the four horses were put to their speed, and down and around and away we went. I drew in my breath as I

looked out and over into the abyss on my left. Death and destruction seemed to be the end awaiting us all.

Everybody was limp, when we reached the bottomthat is, I was limp, and I suppose the others were. The

stagedriver knew I was frightened, because I sat still and looked white and he came and lifted me out. He

lived in a small cabin at the bottom of the mountain; I talked with him some. "The fact is," he said, "we are an

hour late this morning; we always make it a point to 'do it' before dawn, so the passengers can't see anything;

I mentioned this road afterwards in San Francisco, and learned that it was a famous road, cut out of the side

of a solid mountain of rock; long talked of, long desired, and finally built, at great expense, by the state and

the county together; that they always had the same man to drive over it, and that they never did it by daylight.

I did not inquire if there had ever been any accidents. I seemed to have learned all I wanted to know about it.

After a little rest and a breakfast at a sort of roadhouse, a relay of horses was taken, and we travelled one

more day over a flat country, to the end of the stageroute. Jack was to meet me. Already from the stage I

had espied the post ambulance and two blue uniforms. Out jumped Major Ernest and Jack. I remember

thinking how straight and how well they looked. I had forgotten really how army men did look, I had been so

And now we were to go to Fort Yuma and stay with the Wells' until my boxes, which had been sent around

by water on the steamer "Montana," should arrive. I had only the usual thirty pounds allowance of luggage

with me on the stage, and it was made up entirely of my boy's clothing, and an evening dress I had worn on

Fort Yuma was delightful at this season (December), and after four or five days spent most enjoyably, we

crossed over one morning on the old rope ferryboat to Yuma City, to inquire at the big country store there of

The merchant called Jack to one side and said something to him in a low tone. I was sure it concerned the

Then they told me that news had just been received from below, that the "Montana" had been burned to the

water's edge in Guaymas harbor, and everything on board destroyed; the passengers had been saved with

I had lost all the clothes I had in the worldand my precious boxes were gone. I scarcely knew how to meet

Jack said: "Don't mind, Mattie; I'm so thankful you and the boy were not on board the ship; the things are

"But," said I, "you do not understand. I have no clothes except what I have on, and a party dress. Oh! what

The merchant was very sympathetic and kind, and Major Wells said, "Let's go home and tell Fanny; maybe

I turned toward the counter, and bought some sewing materials, realizing that outside of my toilet articles and

my party dress all my personal belongings were swept away. I was in a country where there were no

dressmakers, and no shops; I was, for the time being, a pauper, as far as clothing was concerned.

When I got back to Mrs. Wells I broke down entirely; she put her arms around me and said: "I've heard all

about it; I know just how you must feel; now come in my room, and we'll see what can be done."

She laid out enough clothing to last me until I could get some things from the East, and gave me a grey and

white percale dress with a basque, and a border, and although it was all very much too large for me, it

Letters were dispatched to the East, in various directions, for every sort and description of clothing, but it was

at least two months before any of it appeared, and I felt like an object of charity for a long time. Then, too, I

had anticipated the fitting up of our quarters with all the pretty cretonnes and other things I had brought from

home. And now the contents of those boxes were no more! The memory of the visit was all that was left to

Preparations for our journey to Camp MacDowell were at last completed. The route to our new post lay along

the valley of the Gila River, following it up from its mouth, where it empties into the Colorado, eastwards

The December sun was shining brightly down, as only the Arizona sun can shine at high noon in winter,

when we crossed the Colorado on the primitive ferryboat drawn by ropes, clambered up into the great

thoroughbrace wagon (or ambulance) with its dusty white canvas covers all rolled up at the sides, said

goodbye to our kind hosts of Fort Yuma, and started, rattling along the sandy main street of Yuma City, for

Our big blue army wagon, which had been provided for my boxes and trunks, rumbling along behind us,

But it all seemed so good to me: I was happy to see the soldiers again, the drivers and teamsters, and even the

sleek Government mules. The old blue uniforms made my heart glad. Every sound was familiar, even the

rattling of the harness with its ivory rings and the harsh sound of the heavy brakes reinforced with old leather

Even the country looked attractive, smiling under the December sun. I wondered if I had really grown to love

the desert. I had read somewhere that people did. But I was not paying much attention in those days to the

analysis of my feelings. I did not stop to question the subtle fascination which I felt steal over me as we rolled

along the smooth hard roads that followed the windings of the Gila River. I was back again in the army; I had

In Nantucket, no one thought much about the army. The uniform of the regulars was never seen there. The

profession of arms was scarcely known or heard of. Few people manifested any interest in the life of the Far

West. I had, while there, felt out of touch with my oldest friends. Only my darling old uncle, a brave old

whaling captain, had said: "Mattie, I am much interested in all you have written us about Arizona; come right

Gladly I followed him down the stairs, and he took his pencil out and began to trace. After he had crossed the

Mississippi, there did not seem to be anything but blank country, and I could not find Arizona, and it was

written in large letters across the entire half of this antique map, "Unexplored."

But he drew his pencil around Cape Horn and up the Pacific coast, and I described to him the voyages I had

"Yes," he said, "in 1826, we put into San Francisco harbor and sent our boats up to San Jose for water and we

took goats from some of those islands,too. Oh! I know the coast well enough. We were on our way to the

But, as a rule, people there seemed to have little interest in the army and it had made me feel as one apart.

Gila City was our first camp; not exactly a city, to be sure, at that time, whatever it may be now. We were

greeted by the sight of a few old adobe houses, and the usual saloon. I had ceased, however, to dwell upon

such trifles as names. Even "Filibuster," the name of our next camp, elicited no remark from me.

The weather was fine beyond description. Each day, at noon, we got out of the ambulance, and sat down on

the warm white sand, by a little clump of mesquite, and ate our luncheon. Coveys of quail flew up and we

The mules trotted along contentedly on the smooth white road, which followed the south bank of the Gila

River. Myriads of lizards ran out and looked at us. "Hello, here you are again," they seemed to say.

The Gila Valley in December was quite a different thing from the Mojave desert in September; and although

there was not much to see, in that low, flat country, yet we three were joyous and happy.

Good health again was mine, the travelling was ideal, there were no discomforts, and I experienced no terrors

Each morning, when the tent was struck, and I sat on the campstool by the little heap of ashes, which was all

that remained of what had been so pleasant a home for an afternoon and a night, a little lonesome feeling

crept over me, at the thought of leaving the place. So strong is the instinct and love of home in some people,

that the little tendrils shoot out in a day and weave themselves around a spot which has given them shelter.

Camps were made at Stanwix, Oatman's Flat, and Gila Bend. There we left the river, which makes a mighty

loop at this point, and struck across the plains to Maricopa Wells. The last day's march took us across the Gila

River, over the Maricopa desert, and brought us to the Salt River. We forded it at sundown, rested our

animals a half hour or so, and drove through the MacDowell canon in the dark of the evening, nine miles

more to the post. A day's march of fortyfive miles. (A relay of mules had been sent to meet us at the Salt

Jack had told me of the curious cholla cactus, which is said to nod at the approach of human beings, and to

deposit its barbed needles at their feet. Also I had heard stories of this deep, dark canon and things that had

Fort MacDowell was in Maricopa County, Arizona, on the Verde River, seventy miles or so south of Camp

Verde; the roving bands of Indians, escaping from Camp Apache and the San Carlos reservation, which lay

far to the east and southeast, often found secure hiding places in the fastnesses of the Superstition Mountains

Hence, a company of cavalry and one of infantry were stationed at Camp MacDowell, and the officers and

men of this small command were kept busy, scouting, and driving the renegades from out of this part of the

country back to their reservations. It was by no means an idle post, as I found after I got there; the life at

Camp MacDowell meant hard work, exposure and fatigue for this small body of men.

As we wound our way through this deep, dark canon, after crossing the Salt River, I remembered the things I

had heard, of ambush and murder. Our animals were too tired to go out of a walk, the night fell in black

shadows down between those high mountain walls, the chollas, which are a pale sagegreen color in the

daytime, took on a ghastly hue. They were dotted here and there along the road, and on the steep

mountainsides. They grew nearly as tall as a man, and on each branch were great excrescences which looked

The soldiers were not partial to MacDowell canon; they knew too much about the place; and we all breathed

a sigh of relief when we emerged from this dark uncanny road and saw the lights of the post, lying low, long,

We were expected, evidently, for as we drove along the road in front of the officers' quarters they all came

Captain Corliss of C company welcomed us to the post and to his company, and said he hoped I should like

MacDowell better than I did Ehrenberg. Now Ehrenberg seemed years agone, and I could laugh at the

Supper was awaiting us at Captain Corliss's, and Mrs. Kendall, wife of Lieutenant Kendall, Sixth Cavalry,

had, in Jack's absence, put the finishing touches to our quarters. So I went at once to a comfortable home, and

How good everything seemed! There was Doctor Clark, whom I had met first at Ehrenberg, and who wanted

to throw Patrocina and Jesusita into the Colorado. I was so glad to find him there; he was such a good doctor,

and we never had a moment's anxiety, as long as he staid at Camp MacDowell. Our confidence in him was

It was easy enough to obtain a man from the company. There were then no hateful laws forbidding soldiers to

work in officers' families; no dreaded inspectors, who put the flat question, "Do you employ a soldier for

Captain Corliss gave me an old man by the name of Smith, and he was glad to come and stay with us and do

what simple cooking we required. One of the laundresses let me have her daughter for nurserymaid, and our

The officers' quarters were a long, low line of adobe buildings with no space between them; the houses were

separated only by thick walls. In front, the windows looked out over the parade ground. In the rear, they

opened out on a road which ran along the whole length, and on the other side of which lay another row of

long, low buildings which were the kitchens, each set of quarters having its own.

We occupied the quarters at the end of the row, and a large bay window looked out over a rather desolate

plain, and across to the large and wellkept hospital. As all my draperies and pretty cretonnes had been burnt

up on the illfated ship, I had nothing but bare white shades at the windows, and the rooms looked desolate

enough. But a long divan was soon built, and some coarse yellow cotton bought at John Smith's (the cutler's)

store, to cover it. My pretty rugs and mats were also gone, and there was only the old ingrain carpet from Fort

Russell. The floors were adobe, and some men from the company came and laid down old canvas, then the

carpet, and drove in great spikes around the edge to hold it down. The floors of the bedroom and

diningroom were covered with canvas in the same manner. Our furnishings were very scanty and I felt very

mournful about the loss of the boxes. We could not claim restitution as the steamship company had been

John Smith, the post trader (the name "sutler" fell into disuse about now) kept a large store but, nothing that I

could use to beautify my quarters withand our losses had been so heavy that we really could not afford to

send back East for more things. My new white dresses came and were suitable enough for the winter climate

of MacDowell. But I missed the thousand and one accessories of a woman's wardrobe, the accumulation of

years, the comfortable things which money could not buy especially at that distance.

I had never learned how to make dresses or to fit garments and although I knew how to sew, my

But Mrs. Kendall whose experience in frontier life had made her selfreliant, lent me some patterns, and I

bought some of John Smith's calico and went to work to make gowns suited to the hot weather. This was in

1877, and every one will remember that the readymade housegowns were not to be had in those days in the

excellence and profusion in which they can today be found, in all parts of the country.

Now Mrs. Kendall was a tall, fine woman, much larger than I, but I used her patterns without alterations, and

the result was something like a bag. They were freshly laundried and cool, however, and I did not place so

much importance on the lines of them, as the young women of the present time do. Today, the poorest

farmer's wife in the wilds of Arkansas or Alaska can wear better fitting gowns than I wore then. But my

riding habits, of which I had several kinds, to suit warm and cold countries, had been left in Jack's care at

Ehrenberg, and as long as these fitted well, it did not so much matter about the gowns.

Captain Chaffee, who commanded the company of the Sixth Cavalry stationed there, was away on leave, but

Mr. Kendall, his first lieutenant, consented for me to exercise "Cochise," Captain Chaffee's Indian pony, and I

Cavalry officers usually hate riding: that is, riding for pleasure; for they are in the saddle so much, for dead

earnest work; but a young officer, a second lieutenant, not long out from the Academy, liked to ride, and we

had many pleasant riding parties. Mr. Dravo and I rode one day to the Mormon settlement, seventeen miles

away, on some business with the bishop, and a Mormon woman gave us a lunch of fried salt pork, potatoes,

bread, and milk. How good it tasted, after our long ride! and how we laughed about it all, and jollied, after the

fashion of young people, all the way back to the post! Mr Dravo had also lost all his things on the "Montana,"

and we sympathized greatly with each other. He, however, had sent an order home to Pennsylvania,

duplicating all the contents of his boxes. I told him I could not duplicate mine, if I sent a thousand orders

When, after some months, his boxes came, he brought me in a package, done up in tissue paper and tied with

ribbon: "Mother sends you these; she wrote that I was not to open them; I think she felt sorry for you, when I

wrote her you had lost all your clothing. I suppose," he added, mustering his West Point French to the front,

I hope I blushed, and I think I did, for I was not so very old, and I was touched by this sweet remembrance

from the dear mother back in Pittsburgh. And so many lovely things happened all the time; everybody was so

kind to me. Mrs. Kendall and her young sister, Kate Taylor, Mrs. John Smith and I, were the only women that

winter at Camp MacDowell. Afterwards, Captain Corliss brought a bride to the post, and a new doctor took

There were interminable scouts, which took both cavalry and infantry out of the post. We heard a great deal

about "chasing Injuns" in the Superstition Mountains, and once a lieutenant of infantry went out to chase an

Old Smith, my cook, was not very satisfactory; he drank a good deal, and I got very tired of the trouble he

caused me. It was before the days of the canteen, and soldiers could get all the whiskey they wanted at the

trader's store; and, it being generally the brand that was known in the army as "Forty rod," they got very

drunk on it sometimes. I never had it in my heart to blame them much, poor fellows, for every human beings

Captain Corliss said to Jack one day, in my presence, "I had a fine batch of recruits come in this morning."

"That's lovely," said I; "what kind of men are they? Any good cooks amongst them?" (for I was getting very

Captain Corliss smiled a grim smile. "What do you think the United States Government enlists men for?" said

He was really quite angry with me, and I concluded that I had been too abrupt, in my eagerness for another

man, and that my ideas on the subject were becoming warped. I decided that I must be more diplomatic in the

The next day, when we went to breakfast, whom did we find in the diningroom but Bowen! Our old Bowen

of the long march across the Territory! Of Camp Apache and K company! He had his white apron on, his hair

rolled back in his most fetching style, and was putting the coffee on the table.

"But, Bowen," said I, "wherehow on earthdid youhow did you know wewhat does it mean?"

Bowen saluted the First Lieutenant of C company, and said: "Well, sir, the fact is, my time was out, and I

thought I would quit. I went to San Francisco and worked in a miners' restaurant" (here he hesitated), "but I

didn't like it, and I tried something else, and lost all my money, and I got tired of the town, so I thought I'd

take on again, and as I knowed ye's were in C company now, I thought I'd come to MacDowell, and I came

over here this morning and told old Smith he'd better quit; this was my job, and here I am, and I hope ye're all

And now things ran smoothly once more. Roasts of beef and haunches of venison, ducks and other good

It was cool enough to wear white cotton dresses, but nothing heavier. It never rained, and the climate was

superb, although it was always hot in the sun. We had heard that it was very hot here; in fact, people called

MacDowell by very bad names. As the spring came on, we began to realize that the epithets applied to it

In front of our quarters was a ramada,* supported by rude poles of the cottonwood tree. Then came the

sidewalk, and the acequia (ditch), then a row of young cottonwood trees, then the parade ground. Through the

acequia ran the clear water that supplied the post, and under the shade of the ramadas, hung the large ollas

from which we dipped the drinking water, for as yet, of course, ice was not even dreamed of in the far plains

of MacDowell. The heat became intense, as the summer approached. To sleep inside the house was

impossible, and we soon followed the example of the cavalry, who had their beds out on the parade ground.

Two iron cots, therefore, were brought from the hospital, and placed side by side in front of our quarters,

beyond the acequia and the cottonwood trees, in fact, out in the open space of the parade ground. Upon these

were laid some mattresses and sheets, and after "taps" had sounded, and lights were out, we retired to rest.

Near the cots stood Harry's crib.We had not thought about the ants, however, and they swarmed over our

beds, driving us into the house. The next morning Bowen placed a tin can of water under each point of

contact; and as each cot had eight legs, and the crib had four, twenty cans were necessary. He had not taken

the trouble to remove the labels, and the pictures of red tomatoes glared at us in the hot sun through the day;

There was another species of tiny insect, however, which seemed to drop from the little cottonwood trees

which grew at the edge of the acequia, and myriads of them descended and crawled all over us, so we had to

have our beds moved still farther out on to the open space of the parade ground.

And now we were fortified against all the venomous creeping things and we looked forward to blissful nights

We did not look along the line, when we retired to our cots, but if we had, we should have seen shadowy

figures, laden with pillows, flying from the houses to the cots or vice versa. It was certainly a novel

With but a sheet for a covering, there we lay, looking up at the starry heavens. I watched the Great Bear go

around, and other constellations and seemed to come into close touch with Nature and the mysterious night.

But the melancholy solemnity of my communings was much affected by the howling of the coyotes, which

seemed sometimes to be so near that I jumped to the side of the crib, to see if my little boy was being carried

off. The good sweet slumber which I craved never came to me in those weird Arizona nights under the stars.

At about midnight, a sort of dewy coolness would come down from the sky, and we could then sleep a little;

but the sun rose incredibly early in that southern country, and by the crack of dawn sheeted figures were to be

seen darting back into the quarters, to try for another nap. The nap rarely came to any of us, for the heat of the

houses never passed off, day or night, at that season. After an early breakfast, the long day began again.

The question of what to eat came to be a serious one. We experimented with all sorts of tinned foods, and

tried to produce some variety from them, but it was all rather tiresome. We almost dreaded the visits of the

Paymaster and the Inspector at that season, as we never had anything in the house to give them.

One hot night, at about ten o'clock, we heard the rattle of wheels, and an ambulance drew up at our door. Out

jumped Colonel Biddle, Inspector General, from Fort Whipple. "What shall I give him to eat, poor hungry

man?" I thought. I looked in the wirecovered safe, which hung outside the kitchen, and discovered half a

beefsteakpie. The gallant Colonel declared that if there was one thing above all others that he liked, it was

cold beefsteakpie. Lieutenant Thomas of the Fifth Cavalry echoed his sentiments, and with a bottle of

These visits broke the monotony of our life at Camp MacDowell. We heard of the gay doings up at Fort

Mr. Thomas said he could not understand why we wore such bags of dresses. I told him spitefully that if the

women of Fort Whipple would come down to MacDowell to spend the summer, they would soon be able to

explain it to him. I began to feel embarrassed at the fit of my housegowns. After a few days spent with us,

however, the mercury ranging from l04 to l20 degrees in the shade, he ceased to comment upon our dresses

I had a glass jar of butter sent over from the Commissary, and asked Colonel Biddle if he thought it right that

such butter as that should be bought by the purchasing officer in San Francisco. It had melted, and separated

into layers of dead white, deep orange and pinkishpurple colors. Thus I, too, as well as General Miles, had

Hammocks were swung under the ramadas, and after luncheon everybody tried a siesta. Then, near sundown,

an ambulance came and took us over to the Verde River, about a mile away, where we bathed in water almost

as thick as that of the Great Colorado. We taught Mrs. Kendall to swim, but Mr. Kendall, being an inland

man, did not take to the water. Now the Verde River was not a very good substitute for the sea, and the thick

water filled our ears and mouths, but it gave us a little half hour in the day when we could experience a

feeling of being cool, and we found it worth while to take the trouble. Thick clumps of mesquite trees

furnished us with dressingrooms. We were all young, and youth requires so little with which to make merry.

After the meagre evening dinner, the Kendalls and ourselves sat together under the ramada until taps,

listening generally to the droll anecdotes told by Mr. Kendall, who had an inexhaustible fund. Then another

We lived, ate, slept by the bugle calls. Reveille means sunrise, when a Lieutenant must hasten to put himself

into uniform, sword and belt, and go out to receive the report of the company or companies of soldiers, who

At about nine o'clock in the morning comes the guardmount, a function always which everybody goes out to

see. Then the various drill calls, and recalls, and sickcall and the beautiful stablecall for the cavalry, when

the horses are groomed and watered, the thrilling firecall and the startling assembly, or calltoarms, when

every soldier jumps for his rifle and every officer buckles on his sword, and a woman's heart stands still.

Then at night, "tattoo," when the company officers go out to receive the report of "all present and accounted

for"and shortly after that, the mournful "taps," a signal for the barrack lights to be put out.

The bugle call of "taps" is mournful also through association, as it is always blown over the grave of a soldier

or an officer, after the coffin has been lowered into the earth. The soldiermusicians who blow the calls,

seem to love the call of "taps," (strangely enough) and I remember well that there at Camp MacDowell, we

all used to go out and listen when "taps went," as the soldier who blew it, seemed to put a whole world of

sorrow into it, turning to the four points of the compass and letting its clear tones tremble through the air,

away off across the Maricopa desert and then toward the East, our home so faraway. We never spoke, we just

listened, and who can tell the thoughts that each one had in his mind? Church nor ministers nor priests had

we there in those distant lands, but can we say that our lives were wholly without religion?

The Sunday inspection of men and barracks, which was performed with much precision and formality,and

often in full dress uniform, gave us something by which we could mark the weeks, as they slipped along.

There was no religious service of any kind, as Uncle Sam did not seem to think that the souls of us people in

the outposts needed looking after. It would have afforded much comfort to the Roman Catholics had there

The only sermon I ever heard in old Camp MacDowell was delivered by a Mormon Bishop and was of a

rather preposterous nature, neither instructive nor edifying. But the good Catholics read their prayerbooks at

home, and the rest of us almost forgot that such organizations as churches existed.

Another bright winter found us still gazing at the Four Peaks of the MacDowell Mountains, the only

landmark on the horizon. I was glad, in those days, that I had not staid back East, for the life of an officer

"Four years I have sat here and looked at the Four Peaks," said Captain Corliss, one day, "and I'm getting

In June, 1878, Jack was ordered to report to the commanding officer at Fort Lowell (near the ancient city of

Tucson), to act as Quartermaster and Commissary at that post. This was a sudden and totally unexpected

order. It was indeed hard, and it seemed to me cruel. For our regiment had been four years in the Territory,

and we were reasonably sure of being ordered out before long. Tucson lay far to the south of us, and was

even hotter than this place. But there was nothing to be done; we packed up, I with a heavy heart, Jack with

With the grief which comes only at that time in one's life, and which sees no end and no limit, I parted from

my friends at Camp MacDowell. Two years together, in the most intimate companionship, cut off from the

outside world, and away from all early ties, had united us with indissoluble bonds,and now we were to

We all wept; I embraced them all, and Jack lifted me into the ambulance; Mrs. Kendall gave a last kiss to our

little boy; Donahue, our soldierdriver, loosened up his brakes, cracked his long whip, and away we went,

down over the flat, through the dark MacDowell canon, with the chollas nodding to us as we passed, across

the Salt River, and on across an open desert to Florence, forty miles or so to the southeast of us.

At Florence we sent our military transportation back and staid over a day at a tavern to rest. We met there a

very agreeable and cultivated gentleman, Mr. Charles Poston, who was en route to his home, somewhere in

the mountains nearby. We took the Tucson stage at sundown, and travelled all night. I heard afterwards more

about Mr. Poston: he had attained some reputation in the literary world by writing about the Sunworshippers

of Asia. He had been a great traveller in his early life, but now had built himself some sort of a house in one

of the desolate mountains which rose out of these vast plains of Arizona, hoisted his sunflag on the top,

there to pass the rest of his days. People out there said he was a sunworshipper. I do not know. "But when I

am tired of life and people," I thought, "this will not be the place I shall choose."

Arriving at Tucson, after a hot and tiresome night in the stage, we went to an old hostelry. Tucson looked

Leaving me at the tavern, my husband drove out to Fort Lowell, to see about quarters and things in general.

In a few hours he returned with the overwhelming news that he found a dispatch awaiting him at that post,

ordering him to return immediately to his company at Camp MacDowell, as the Eighth Infantry was ordered

Ordered "out" at last! I felt like jumping up onto the table, climbing onto the roof, dancing and singing and

shouting for joy! Tired as we were (and I thought I had reached the limit), we were not too tired to take the

first stage back for Florence, which left that evening. Those two nights on the Tucson stage are a blank in my

In the morning, as we approached the town of Florence, the great blue army wagon containing our household

goods, hove in sightits white canvas cover stretched over hoops, its six sturdy mules coming along at a

good trot, and Sergeant Stone cracking his long whip, to keep up a proper pace in the eyes of the Tucson

Jack called him to halt, and down went the Sergeant's big brakes. Both teams came to a standstill, and we

told the Sergeant the news. Bewilderment, surprise, joy, followed each other on the old Sergeant's

countenance. He turned his heavy team about, and promised to reach Camp MacDowell as soon as the

animals could make it. At Florence, we left the stage, and went to the little tavern once more; the stage route

did not lie in our direction, so we must hire a private conveyance to bring us to Camp MacDowell. Jack found

a man who had a good pair of ponies and an open buckboard. Towards night we set forth to cross the plain

When I saw the driver I did not care much for his appearance. He did not inspire me with confidence, but the

After we got fairly into the desert, which was a trackless waste, I became possessed by a feeling that the man

did not know the way. He talked a good deal about the North Star, and the fork in the road, and that we must

It was a still, hot, starlit night. Jack and the driver sat on the front seat. They had taken the back seat out, and

my little boy and I sat in the bottom of the wagon, with the hard cushions to lean against through the night. I

suppose we were drowsy with sleep; at all events, the talk about the fork of the road and the North Star faded

I awoke with a chilly feeling, and a sudden jolt over a rock. "I do not recollect any rocks on this road, Jack,

I looked for the North Star: I had looked for it often when in open boats. It was away off on our left, the road

seemed to be ascending and rocky: I had never seen this piece of road before, that I was sure of.

"My dear, lie down and go to sleep; the man knows the road; he is taking a short cut, I suppose," said the

The driver did not turn his head nor speak. I looked at the North Star, which was getting farther and farther on

Finally, at daylight, after going higher and higher, we drew up in an old deserted miningcamp.

The driver jerked his ponies up, and, with a sullen gesture, said, "We must have missed the fork of the road;

"About fifteen miles," he drawled, "you see we shall have to go back to the place where the road forks, and

I nearly collapsed with discouragement. I looked around at the ruined walls and crumbling pillars of stone, so

weird and so grey in the dawning light: it might have been a worshipping place of the Druids. My little son

shivered with the light chill which comes at daybreak in those tropical countries: we were hungry and tired

We gave the poor ponies time to breathe, and took a bite of cold food ourselves.

Ah! that blighted and desolate place called Picket Post! Forsaken by God and man, it might have been the

Would the ponies hold out? They looked jaded to be sure, but we had stopped long enough to breathe them,

It was broad day when we reached the fork of the road, which we had not been able to see in the night: there

We had travelled already about forty miles, thirty more lay before us; but there were no hills, it was all flat

As we neared the MacDowell canon, we met Captain Corliss marching out with his company (truly they had

lost no time in starting for California), and he told his First Lieutenant he would make slow marches, that we

We were obliged to wait at Camp MacDowell for Sergeant Stone to arrive with our wagonful of household

goods, and then, after a mighty weeding out and repacking, we set forth once more, with a good team of

mules and a good driver, to join the command. We bade the Sixth Cavalry people once more goodbye, but I

was so nearly dead by this time, with the heat, and the fatigue of all this hard travelling and packing up, that

the keener edge of my emotions was dulled. Eight days and nights spent in travelling hither and thither over

Because somebody in ordering somebody to change his station, had forgotten that somebody's regiment was

about to be ordered out of the country it had been in for four years. Also because my husband was a soldier

who obeyed orders without questioning them. If he had been a political wirepuller, many of our misfortunes

might have been averted. But then, while I half envied the wives of the wirepullers, I took a sort of pride in

the blind obedience shown by my own particular soldier to the orders he received.

After that week's experience, I held another colloquy with myself, and decided that wives should not follow

their husbands in the army, and that if I ever got back East again, I would stay: I simply could not go on

The Florence man staid over at the post a day or so to rest his ponies. I bade him goodbye and told him to

take care of those brave little beasts, which had travelled seventy miles without rest, to bring us to our

destination. He nodded pleasantly and drove away. "A queer customer," I observed to Jack.

"Yes," answered he, "they told me in Florence that he was a 'road agent' and desperado, but there did not

seem to be anyone else, and my orders were peremptory, so I took him. I knew the ponies could pull us

through, by the looks of them; and road agents are all right with army officers, they know they wouldn't get

"Sixteen dollars," was the reply. And so ended the episode. Except that I looked back to Picket Post with a

And now after the eight days of most distressing heat, and the fatigue of all sorts and varieties of travelling,

the nights spent in a stagecoach or at a desert inn, or in the road agent's buckboard, holding always my little

son close to my side, came six days more of journeying down the valley of the Gila.

We took supper in Phoenix, at a place known as "Devine's." I was hearing a good deal about Phoenix; for

even then, its gardens, its orchards and its climate were becoming famous, but the season of the year was

unpropitious to form a favorable opinion of that thriving place, even if my opinions of Arizona, with its

We crossed the Gila somewhere below there, and stopped at our old camping places, but the entire valley was

seething hot, and the remembrance of the December journey seemed but an aggravating dream.

We joined Captain Corliss and the company at Antelope Station, and in two more days were at Yuma City.

By this time, the Southern Pacific Railroad had been built as far as Yuma, and a bridge thrown across the

Colorado at this point. It seemed an incongruity. And how burning hot the cars looked, standing there in the

After four years in that Territory, and remembering the days, weeks, and even months spent in travelling on

the river, or marching through the deserts, I could not make the Pullman cars seem a reality.

We brushed the dust of the Gila Valley from our clothes, I unearthed a hat from somewhere, and some wraps

which had not seen the light for nearly two years, and prepared to board the train.

I cried out in my mind, the prayer of the woman in one of Fisher's Ehrenberg stories, to which I used to listen

with unmitigated delight, when I lived there. The story was this: "Mrs. Blank used to live here in Ehrenberg;

she hated the place just as you do, but she was obliged to stay. Finally, after a period of two years, she and

her sister, who had lived with her, were able to get away. I crossed over the river with them to Lower

California, on the old rope ferryboat which they used to have near Ehrenberg, and as soon as the boat

touched the bank, they jumped ashore, and down they both went upon their knees, clasped their hands, raised

their eyes to Heaven, and Mrs. Blank said: 'I thank Thee, oh Lord! Thou hast at last delivered us from the

And then Fisher used to add: "And the tears rolled down their faces, and I knew they felt every word they

spoke; and I guess you'll feel about the same way when you get out of Arizona, even if you don't quite drop

The soldiers did not look half so picturesque, climbing into the cars, as they did when loading onto a barge;

and when the train went across the bridge, and we looked down upon the swirling red waters of the Great

Colorado from the windows of a luxurious Pullman, I sighed; and, with the strange contradictoriness of the

human mind, I felt sorry that the old days had come to an end. For, somehow, the hardships and deprivations

which we have endured, lose their bitterness when they have become only a memory.

A portion of our regiment was ordered to Oregon, to join General Howard, who was conducting the Bannock

Campaign, so I remained that summer in San Francisco, to await my husband's return.

I could not break away from my Arizona habits. I wore only white dresses, partly because I had no others

which were in fashion, partly because I had become imbued with a profound indifference to dress.

"They'll think you're a Mexican," said my New England aunt (who regarded all foreigners with contempt).

"Let them think," said I; "I almost wish I were; for, after all, they are the only people who understand the

philosophy of living. Look at the tired faces of the women in your streets," I added, "one never sees that sort

of expression down below, and I have made up my mind not to be caught by the whirlpool of advanced

Added to the white dresses, I smoked cigarettes, and slept all the afternoons. I was in the bondage of tropical

customs, and I had lapsed back into a state of what my aunt called semibarbarism.

"Let me enjoy this heavenly cool climate, and do not worry me," I begged. I shuddered when I heard people

complain of the cold winds of the San Francisco summer. How do they dare tempt Fate, thought I, and I

wished them all in Ehrenberg or MacDowell for one summer. "I think they might then know something about

The headquarters of the Eighth was located at Benicia, and General Kautz, our Colonel, invited me to pay a

visit to his wife. A pleasant boattrip up the Sacramento River brought us to Benicia. Mrs. Kautz, a

handsome and accomplished Austrian, presided over her lovely army home in a manner to captivate my

A visit to Angel Island, one of the harbor defences, strengthened this impression. Four years of life in the

southern posts of Arizona had almost made me believe that army life was indeed but "glittering misery," as

In the autumn, the troops returned from Oregon, and C company was ordered to Camp MacDermit, a lonely

spot up in the northern part of Nevada (Nevada being included in the Department of California). I was sure

by that time that bad luck was pursuing us. I did not know so much about the "ins and outs" of the army then

At my aunt's suggestion, I secured a Chinaman of good caste for a servant, and by deceiving him (also my

aunt's advice) with the idea that we were going only as far as Sacramento, succeeded in making him willing

We started east, and left the railroad at a station called "Winnemucca." MacDermit lay ninety miles to the

north. But at Winnemucca the Chinaman balked. "You say: 'All'e same Saclamento': lis place heap too far:

me no likee!" I talked to him, and, being a good sort, he saw that I meant well, and the soldiers bundled him

on top of the army wagon, gave him a lot of goodnatured guying, and a revolver to keep off Indians, and so

Captain Corliss had been obliged to go on ahead with his wife, who was in the most delicate health. The post

Jack was to march over the ninety miles, with the company. I watched them starting out, the men, glad of the

release from the railroad train, their guns on their shoulders, stepping off in military style and in good form.

The wagons followedthe big blue army wagons, and Hoo Chack, looking rather glum, sitting on top of a

I took the Silver City stage, and except for my little boy I was the only passenger for the most of the way. We

I climbed up on the box and talked with the driver. I liked these stagedrivers. They were "nervy," fearless

men, and kind, too, and had a great dash and go about them. They often had a quiet and gentle bearing, but by

that time I knew pretty well what sort of stuff they were made of, and I liked to have them talk to me, and I

liked to look out upon the world through their eyes, and judge of things from their standpoint.

Camp MacDermit was a colorless, forbidding sort of a place. Only one company was stationed there, and my

husband was nearly always scouting in the mountains north of us. The weather was severe, and the winter

there was joyless and lonesome. The extreme cold and the loneliness affected my spirits, and I suffered from

I had no woman to talk to, for Mrs. Corliss, who was the only other officer's wife at the post, was confined to

the house by the most delicate health, and her mind was wholly absorbed by the care of her young infant.

One day, a dreadful looking man appeared at the door, a person such as one never sees except on the outskirts

of civilization, and I wondered what business brought him. He wore a long, black, greasy frock coat, a tall

"But," I suggested, "I never heard of collecting taxes in a Government post; soldiers and officers do not pay

"That may be," he replied, "but your Chinaman is not a soldier, and I am going to have his tax before I leave

I was alone; Jack was miles away up North. Hoo Chack appeared in the hall; he had evidently heard the

man's last remark. "Now," I said, "this Chinaman is in my employ, and he shall not pay any tax, until I find

The evillooking man approached the Chinaman. Hoo Chack grew a shade paler. I fancied he had a knife

under his white shirt; in fact, he felt around for it. I said, "Hoo Chack, go away, I will talk to this man."

I opened the front door. "Come with me" (to the taxcollector); "we will ask the commanding officer about

this matter." My heart was really in my mouth, but I returned the man's steady and dogged gaze, and he

followed me to Captain Corliss' quarters. I explained the matter to the Captain, and left the man to his mercy.

"Why didn't you call the Sergeant of the Guard, and have the man slapped into the guardhouse?" said Jack,

when I told him about it afterwards. "The man had no business around here; he was trying to browbeat you

The country above us was full of desperadoes from Boise and Silver City, and I was afraid to be left alone so

much at night; so I begged Captain Corliss to let me have a soldier to sleep in my quarters. He sent me old

Needham. So I installed old Needham in my guest chamber with his loaded rifle. Now old Needham was but

a wisp of a man; long years of service had broken down his health; he was all wizened up and feeble; but he

was a soldier; I felt safe, and could sleep once more. Just the sight of Needham and his old blue uniform

Anxiety filled my soul, for Jack was scouting in the Stein Mountains all winter in the snow, after Indians who

were avowedly hostile, and had threatened to kill on sight. He often went out with a small packtrain, and

some Indian scouts, five or six soldiers, and I thought it quite wrong for him to be sent into the mountains

Camp MacDermit was, as I have already mentioned, a "onecompany post." We all know what that may

mean, on the frontier. Our Second Lieutenant was absent, and all the hard work of winter scouting fell upon

The Piute Indians were supposed to be peaceful, and their old chief, Winnemucca, once the warlike and

dreaded foe of the white man, was now quiet enough, and too old to fight. He lived, with his family, at an

He came to see me occasionally. His dress was a curious mixture of civilization and savagery. He wore the

chapeau and dresscoat of a General of the American Army, with a large epaulette on one shoulder. He was

very proud of the coat, because General Crook had given it to him. His shirt, leggings and moccasins were of

buckskin, and the long braids of his coalblack hair, tied with strips of red flannel, gave the last touch to this

But I must say that his demeanor was gentle and dignified, and, after recovering from the superficial

impressions which his startling costume had at first made upon my mind, I could well believe that he had

once been the warleader, as he was now the political head of his oncepowerful tribe.

Winnemucca did not disdain to accept some little sugarcakes from me, and would sit down on our veranda

He always showed me the pasteboard medal which hung around his neck, and which bore General Howard's

signature; and he always said: "General Howard tell me, me good Injun, me go upupup"pointing

dramatically towards Heaven. On one occasion, feeling desperate for amusement, I said to him: "General

Howard very good man, but he make a mistake; where you go, is not upupup, but," pointing solemnly

to the earth below us, "downdowndown." He looked incredulous, but I assured him it was a nice place

Some of the scattered bands of the tribe, however, were restless and unsubdued, and gave us much trouble,

My little son, Harry, four years old, was my constant and only companion, during that long, cold, and anxious

My mother sent me an appealing invitation to come home for a year. I accepted gladly, and one afternoon in

May, Jack put us aboard the Silver City stage, which passed daily through the post.

Our excellent Chinese servant promised to stay with the "Captain" and take care of him, and as I said

"Goodbye, Hoo Chack," I noticed an expression of real regret on his usually stolid features.

Occupied with my thoughts, on entering the stage, I did not notice the passengers or the man sitting next me

on the back seat. Darkness soon closed around us, and I suppose we fell asleep. Between naps, I heard a

queer clanking sound, but supposed it was the chains of the harness or the stagecoach gear. The next

morning, as we got out at a relay station for breakfast, I saw the handcuffs on the man next to whom I had sat

all the night long. The sheriff was on the box outside. He very obligingly changed seats with me for the rest

of the way, and evening found us on the overland train speeding on our journey East. Camp MacDermit with

its dreary associations and surroundings faded gradually from my mind, like a dream.

The year of 1879 brought us several changes. My little daughter was born in midsummer at our old home in

Nantucket. As I lay watching the curtains move gently to and fro in the soft seabreezes, and saw my mother

and sister moving about the room, and a good old nurse rocking my baby in her arms, I could but think of

those other days at Camp Apache, when I lay through the long hours, with my newborn baby by my side,

watching, listening for some one to come in. There was no one, no woman to come, except the poor

hardworking laundress of the cavalry, who did come once a day to care for the baby.

Ah! what a contrast! and I had to shut my eyes for fear I should cry, at the mere thought of those other days.

Jack took a year's leave of absence and joined me in the autumn at Nantucket, and the winter was spent in

New York, enjoying the theatres and various amusements we had so long been deprived of. Here we met

again Captain Porter and Carrie Wilkins, who was now Mrs. Porter. They were stationed at David's Island,

one of the harbor posts, and we went over to see them. "Yes," he said, "as Jacob waited seven years for

The following summer brought us the good news that Captain Corliss' company was ordered to Angel Island,

in the bay of San Francisco. "Thank goodness," said Jack, "C company has got some good luck, at last!"

Joyfully we started back on the overland trip to California, which took about nine days at that time. Now,

travelling with a yearold baby and a fiveyearold boy was quite troublesome, and we were very glad when

the train had crossed the bleak Sierras and swept down into the lovely valley of the Sacramento.

Arriving in San Francisco, we went to the old Occidental Hotel, and as we were going in to dinner, a card

was handed to us. "Hoo Chack" was the name on the card. "That Chinaman!" I cried to Jack."How do you

We soon made arrangements for him to accompany us to Angel Island, and in a few days this "heathen

Chinee" had unpacked all our boxes and made our quarters very comfortable. He was rather a highcaste

man, and as true and loyal as a Christian. He never broke his word, and he staid with us as long as we

And now we began to live, to truly live; for we felt that the years spent at those desert posts under the

scorching suns of Arizona had cheated us out of all but a bare existence upon earth.

The flowers ran riot in our garden, fresh fruits and vegetables, fresh fish, and all the luxuries of that

A comfortable Government steamboat plied between San Francisco and its harbor posts, and the distance was

not greatonly three quarters of an hour. So we had a taste of the social life of that fascinating city, and

On the Island, we had music and dancing, as it was the headquarters of the regiment. Mrs. Kautz, so brilliant

and gay, held grand court herereceptions, military functions, lawn tennis, bright uniforms, were the order

of the day. And that incomparable climate! How I revelled in it! When the fog rolled in from the Golden

Gate, and enveloped the great city of Saint Francis in its cold vapors, the Island of the Angels lay warm and

The old Spaniards named it well, and the old Nantucket whalers who sailed around Cape Horn on their way

to the Ar'tic, away back in the eighteen twenties, used to put in near there for water, and were well familiar

Was there ever such an emerald green as adorned those hills which sloped down to the bay? Could anything

equal the fields of golden escholzchia which lay there in the sunshine? Or the blue masses of "babyeye,"

It surely seemed so to us; and, as if Nature had not done enough, the Fates stepped in and sent all the

agreeable young officers of the regiment there, to help us enjoy the heavenly spot.

There was Terrett, the handsome and aristocratic young Baltimorean, one of the finest men I ever saw in

uniform; and Richardson, the stalwart Texan, and many others, with whom we danced and played tennis, and

altogether there was so much to do and to enjoy that Time rushed by and we knew only that we were happy,

Did any uniform ever equal that of the infantry in those days? The dark blue, heavily braided "blouse," the

white stripe on the light blue trousers, the jaunty cap? And then, the straight backs and the slim lines of those

youthful figures! It seems to me any woman who was not an Egyptian mummy would feel her heart thrill and

Indians and deserts and Ehrenberg did not exist for me any more. My girlhood seemed to have returned, and I

My old friend Charley Bailey, who had married for his second wife a most accomplished young San

General and Mrs. Kautz entertained so hospitably,and were so beloved by all. Together Mrs. Kautz and I read

the German classics, and went to the German theatre; and by and by a very celebrated player, Friedrich

Haase, from the Royal Theatre of Berlin, came to San Francisco. We never missed a performance, and when

his tour was over, Mrs. Kautz gave a lawn party at Angel Island for him and a few of the members of his

company. It was charming. I well remember how the sun shone that day, and, as we strolled up from the boat

with them, Frau Haase stopped, looked at the blue sky, the lovely clouds, the green slopes of the Island and

said: "Mein Gott! Frau Summerhayes, was ist das fur ein Paradies! Warum haben Sie uns nicht gesagt, Sie

So, with music and German speech, and strolls to the North and to the South Batteries, that wonderful and

The months flew by, and the second winter found us still there; we heard rumors of Indian troubles in

Arizona, and at last the orders came. The officers packed away their evening clothes in camphor and had their

campaign clothes put out to air, and got their messchests in order, and the post was alive with preparations

for the field. All the families were to stay behind. The most famous Indian renegade was to be hunted down,

The winter rains had set in, and the skies were grey, as the command marched down to the boat.

The officers and soldiers were in their campaign clothes; the latter had their blanketrolls and haversacks

slung over their shoulders, and their tin cups, which hung from the haversacks, rattled and jingled as they

marched down in even columns of four, over the wet and grassy slopes of the parade ground, where so short a

I realized then perhaps for the first time what the uniform really stood for; that every man who wore it, was

going out to fightthat they held their lives as nothing. The glitter was all gone; nothing but sad reality

The officers' wives and the soldiers' wives followed the troops to the dock. The soldiers marched single file

over the gangplank of the boat, the officers said goodbye, the shrill whistle of the "General McPherson"

soundedand they were off. We leaned back against the coalsheds, and soldiers' and officers' wives alike

And now a season of gloom came upon us. The skies were dull and murky and the rain poured down.

Our old friend Bailey, who was left behind on account of illness, grew worse and finally his case was

pronounced hopeless. His death added to the deep gloom and sadness which enveloped us all.

A few of the soldiers who had staid on the Island to take care of the post, carried poor Bailey to the boat, his

casket wrapped in the flag and followed by a little procession of women. I thought I had never seen anything

The campaign lengthened out into months, but the California winters are never very long, and before the

troops came back the hills looked their brightest green again. The campaign had ended with no very serious

losses to our troops and all was joyous again, until another order took us from the seacoast to the interior

It was the custom to change the stations of the different companies of a regiment about every two years. So

the autumn of '82 found us on the way to Fort Halleck, a post in Nevada, but differing vastly from the

desolate MacDermit station. Fort Halleck was only thirteen miles south of the Overland Railroad, and lay

near a spur of the Humboldt range. There were miles of sagebrush between the railroad and the post, but the

mountains which rose abruptly five thousand feet on the far side, made a magnificent background for the

Major Sanford of the First Cavalry, with Captain Carr and Lieutenant Oscar Brown, received us. "Dear me," I

thought, "if the First Cavalry is made up of such gallant men as these, the old Eighth Infantry will have to

Mrs. Sanford and Mrs. Carr gave us a great welcome and vied with each other in providing for our comfort,

It was so good to see the gay yellow of the cavalry again! Now I rode, to my heart's content, and it was good

to be alive; to see the cavalry drill, and to ride through the canons, gorgeous in their flaming autumn tints;

then again to gallop through the sagebrush, jumping where we could not turn, starting up rabbits by the

That little old post, now long since abandoned, marked a pleasant epoch in our life. From the ranches

scattered around we could procure butter and squabs and young vegetables, and the soldiers cultivated great

At the end of two years spent so pleasantly with the people of the First Cavalry, our company was again

ordered to Angel Island. But a second very active campaign in Arizona and Mexico, against Geronimo, took

our soldiers away from us, and we passed through a period of considerable anxiety. June of '86 saw the entire

We travelled to Tucson in a Pullman car. It was hot and uninteresting. I had been at Tucson nine years before,

for a few hours, but the place seemed unfamiliar. I looked for the old tavern; I saw only the railroad

restaurant. We went in to take breakfast, before driving out to the post of Fort Lowell, seven miles away.

Everything seemed changed. Iced cantaloupe was served by a spickspan alert waiter; then, quail on toast.

"Ice in Arizona?" It was like a dream, and I remarked to Jack, "This isn't the same Arizona we knew in '74,"

and then, "I don't believe I like it as well, either; all this luxury doesn't seem to belong to the place."

After a drive behind some smart mules, over a flat stretch of seven miles, we arrived at Fort Lowell, a rather

attractive post, with a long line of officers' quarters, before which ran a level road shaded by beautiful great

trees. We were assigned a half of one of these sets of quarters, and as our half had no conveniences for

housekeeping, it was arranged that we should join a mess with General and Mrs. Kautz and their family. We

soon got settled down to our life there, and we had various recreations; among them, driving over to Tucson

and riding on horseback are those which I remember best. We made a few acquaintances in Tucson, and they

sometimes drove out in the evenings, or more frequently rode out on horseback. Then we would gather

together on the Kautz piazza and everybody sang to the accompaniment of Mrs. Kautz's guitar. It was very

hot, of course; we had all expected that, but the luxuries obtainable through the coming of the railroad, such

as ice, and various summer drinks, and lemons, and butter, helped out to make the summer there more

We slept on the piazzas, which ran around the houses on a level with the ground. At that time the fad for

sleeping out of doors, at least amongst civilized people, did not exist, and our arrangements were entirely

Our quarters were surrounded by a small yard and a fence; the latter was dilapidated, and the gate swung on

one hinge. We were seven miles from anywhere, and surrounded by a desolate country. I did not experience

the feeling of terror that I had had at Camp Apache, for instance, nor the grewsome fear of the Ehrenberg

graveyard, nor the appalling fright I had known in crossing the Mogollon range or in driving through

Sanford's Pass. But still there was a haunting feeling of insecurity which hung around me especially at night.

I was awfully afraid of snakes, and no sooner had we lain ourselves down on our cots to sleep, than I would

hear a rustling among the dry leaves that had blown in under our beds. Then all would be still again; then a

crackling and a rustlingin a flash I would be sitting up in bed. "Jack, do you hear that?" Of course I did not

dare to move or jump out of bed, so I would sit, rigid, scared. "Jack ! what is it?" "Nonsense, Mattie, go to

sleep; it's the toads jumping about in the leaves. "But my sleep was fitful and disturbed, and I never knew

One night I was awakened by a tremendous snort right over my face. I opened my eyes and looked into the

wild eyes of a big black bull. I think I must have screamed, for the bull ran clattering off the piazza and out

through the gate. By this time Jack was up, and Harry and Katherine, who slept on the front piazza, came

running out, and I said: "Well, this is the limit of all things, and if that gate isn't mended tomorrow, I will

Now I heard a vague rumor that there was a creature of this sort in or near the post, and that he had a habit of

wandering around at night, but as I had never seen him, it had made no great impression on my mind. Jack

had a great laugh at me, but I did not think then, nor do I now, that it was anything to be laughed at.

We had heard much of the old Mission of San Xavier del Bac, away the other side of Tucson. Mrs. Kautz

decided to go over there and go into camp and paint a picture of San Xavier. It was about sixteen miles from

So all the camp paraphernalia was gotten ready and several of the officers joined the party, and we all went

over to San Xavier and camped for a few days under the shadow of those beautiful old walls. This Mission is

Exquisite in color, form and architecture, it stands there a silent reminder of the Past.

The curious carvings and paintings inside the church, and the precious old vestments which were shown us

by an ancient custodian, filled my mind with wonder. The building is partly in ruins, and the little squirrels

were running about the galleries, but the great dome is intact, and many of the wonderful figures which

ornament it. Of course we know the Spanish built it about the middle or last of the sixteenth century, and that

they tried to christianize the tribes of Indians who lived around in the vicinity. But there is no sign of priest or

communicant now, nothing but a desolate plain around it for miles. No one can possibly understand how the

building of this large and beautiful mission was accomplished, and I believe history furnishes very little

information. In its archives was found quite recently the charter given by Ferdinand and Isabella, to establish

And now the summer was drawing to a close, and we were anticipating the delights of the winter climate at

Tucson, when, without a note of warning, came the orders for Fort Niobrara. We looked, appalled, in each

other's faces, the evening the telegram came, for we did not even know where Fort Niobrara was.

We all rushed into Major Wilhelm's quarters, for he always knew everything. We (Mrs. Kautz and several of

the other ladies of the post, and myself) were in a state of tremendous excitement. We pounded on Major

Wilhelm's door and we heard a faint voice from his bedroom (for it was after ten o'clock); then we waited a

We opened the door, but there being no light in his quarters we could not see him. A voice said: "What in the

name of" but we did not wait for him to finish; we all shouted: "Where is Fort Niobrara?" "The Devil!" he

said. "Are we ordered there?" "Yes, yes," we cried; "where is it?" "Why, girls," he said, relapsing into his

customary moderate tones, "It's a hell of a freezing cold place, away up north in Nebraska."

We turned our backs and went over to our quarters to have a consultation, and we all retired with sad hearts.

Now, just think of it! To come to Fort Lowell in July, only to move in November! What could it mean? It was

hard to leave the sunny South, to spend the winter in those congealed regions in the North. We were but just

Our establishment now, with two children, several servants, two saddle horses, and additional household

furnishings, was not so simple as in the beginning of our army life, when three chests and a box or two

contained our worldly goods. Each move we made was more difficult than the last; our allowance of baggage

did not begin to cover what we had to take along, and this added greatly to the expense of moving.

The enormous waste attending a move, and the heavy outlay incurred in travelling and getting settled anew,

kept us always poor; these considerations increased our chagrin over this unexpected change of station. There

was nothing to be done, however. Orders are relentless, even if they seem senseless, which this one did, to the

The journey itself, however, was not to be dreaded, although it was so undesired. It was entirely by rail across

New Mexico and Kansas, to St. Joseph, then up the Missouri River and then across the state to the westward.

Finally, after four or five days, we reached the small frontier town of Valentine, in the very northwest corner

of the bleak and desolate state of Nebraska. The post of Niobrara was four miles away, on the Niobrara (swift

Some officers of the Ninth Cavalry met us at the station with the post ambulances. There were six companies

It was November, and the drive across the rolling prairieland gave us a fair glimpse of the country around.

We crossed the old bridge over the Niobrara River, and entered the post. The snow lay already on the brown

The Ninth Cavalry took care of all the officers' families until we could get established. Lieutenant Bingham, a

handsome and distinguishedlooking young bachelor, took us with our two children to his quarters, and made

us delightfully at home. His quarters were luxuriously furnished, and he was altogether adorable. This, to be

Quarters were not very plentiful, and we were compelled to take a house occupied by a young officer of the

Ninth. What base ingratitude it seemed, after the kindness we had accepted from his regiment! But there was

no help for it. We secured a colored cook, who proved a very treasure, and on inquiring how she came to be

in those wilds, I learned that she had accompanied a young heiress who eloped with a cavalry lieutenant,

What a contrast was here, and what a cruel contrast! With blood thinned down by the enervating summer at

Tucson, here we were, thrust into the polar regions! Ice and snow and blizzards, blizzards and snow and ice!

The mercury disappeared at the bottom of the thermometer, and we had nothing to mark any degrees lower

than 40 below zero. Human calculations had evidently stopped there. Enormous box stoves were in every

room and in the halls; the oldfashioned sort that we used to see in schoolrooms and meetinghouses in

New England. Into these, the soldiers stuffed great logs of mountain mahogany,and the fires were kept

A board walk ran in front of the officers' quarters, and, desperate for fresh air and exercise, some of the ladies

would bundle up and go to walk. But frozen chins, ears and elbows soon made this undesirable, and we gave

up trying the fresh air, unless the mercury rose to 18 below, when a few of us would take our daily

We could not complain of our fare, however, for our larder hung full of all sorts of delicate and delicious

things, brought in by the grangers, and which we were glad to buy. Prairiechickens, young pigs, venison,

To frappe a bottle of wine, we stood it on the porch; in a few minutes it would pour crystals. Housekeeping

It was about this time that the law was passed abolishing the posttrader's store, and forbidding the selling of

whiskey to soldiers on a Government reservation. The pleasant canteen, or Post Exchange, the soldiers'

clubroom, was established, where the men could go to relieve the monotony of their lives.

With the abolition of whiskey, the tone of the post improved greatly; the men were contented with a glass of

beer or light wine, the canteen was well managed, so the profits went back into the company messes in the

shape of luxuries heretofore unknown; billiards and readingrooms were established; and from that time on,

the canteen came to be regarded in the army as a most excellent institution. The men gained in selfrespect;

the canteen provided them with a place where they could go and take a bite of lunch, read, chat, smoke, or

play games with their own chosen friends, and escape the lonesomeness of the barracks.

But, alas! this condition of things was not destined to endure, for the women of the various Temperance

societies, in their mistaken zeal and woeful ignorance of the soldiers' life, succeeded in influencing legislation

to such an extent that the canteen, in its turn, was abolished; with what dire results, we of the army all know.

Those estimable women of the W. C. T. U. thought to do good to the army, no doubt, but through their pitiful

Let them stay by their lectures and their clubs, I say, and their other amusements; let them exercise their good

influences nearer home, with a class of people whose conditions are understood by them, where they can, no

They cannot know the drear monotony of the barracks life on the frontier in times of peace. I have lived close

by it, and I know it well. A ceaseless round of drill and work and lessons, and work and lessons and drillno

Far away from family and all home companionship, a man longs for some pleasant place to go, after the day's

work is done. Perhaps these women think (if, in their blind enthusiasm, they think at all) that a young soldier

or an old soldier needs no recreation. At all events, they have taken from him the only one he had, the good

Now Fort Niobrara was a large post. There were ten companies, cavalry and infantry, General August V.

And here, amidst the sandhills of Nebraska, we first began to really know our Colonel. A man of strong

convictions and abiding honesty, a soldier who knew his profession thoroughly, having not only achieved

distinction in the Civil War, but having served when little more than a boy, in the Mexican War of 1846.

The three Kautz children, Frankie, Austin, and Navarra, were the inseparable companions of our own

children. There was a small school for the children of the post, and a soldier by the name of Delany was

schoolmaster. He tried hard to make our children learn, but they did not wish to study, and spent all their

spare time in planning tricks to be played upon poor Delany. It was a difficult situation for the soldier.

Finally, the two oldest Kautz children were sent East to boardingschool, and we also began to realize that

Our surroundings during the early winter, it is true, had been dreary enough, but as the weather softened a bit

In the meantime, Cupid had not been idle. It was observed that Mr. Bingham, our gracious host of the Ninth

Cavalry, had fallen in love with Antoinette, the pretty and attractive daughter of Captain Lynch of our own

regiment, and the post began to be on the qui vive to see how the affair would end, for nobody expects to see

the course of true love run smooth. In their case, however, the Fates were kind and in due time the happy

We had an excellent amusement hall, with a fine floor for dancing. The chapel was at one end, and a fairly

Being nearer civilization now, in the state of Nebraska, Uncle Sam provided us with a chaplain, and a weekly

service was held by the Anglican clergymana tall, wellformed man, a scholar and, as we say, a

gentleman. He wore the uniform of the army chaplain, and as far as looks went could hold his own with any

of the younger officers. And it was a great comfort to the church people to have this weekly service.

During the rest of the time, the chapel was concealed by heavy curtains, and the seats turned around facing

We had a good string orchestra of twenty or more pieces, and as there were a number of active young

bachelors at the post, a series of weekly dances was inaugurated. Never did I enjoy dancing more than at this

Then Mrs. Kautz, who was a thorough music lover and had a cultivated taste as well as a trained and

exquisite voice, gave several musicales, for which much preparation was made, and which were most

delightful. These were given at the quarters of General Kautz, a long, low, rambling onestory house,

We charged admission, for we needed some more scenery, and the neighboring frontier town of Valentine

came riding and driving over the prairie and across the old bridge of the Niobrara River, to see our plays. We

had a welllighted stage. Our methods were primitive, as there was no gas or electricity there in those days,

but the results were good, and the histrionic ability shown by some of our young men and women seemed

I remember especially Bob Emmet's acting, which moved me to tears, in a most pathetic love scene. I

But he is of a family whose talents are well known, and his personality, no doubt, added much to his natural

Neither the army nor the stage can now claim this brilliant cavalry officer, as he was induced, by urgent

family reasons, shortly after the period of which I am writing, to resign his commission and retire to private

And now the summer came on apace. A tenniscourt was made, and added greatly to our amusement. We

were in the saddle every day, and the country around proved very attractive at this season, both for riding and

But all this gayety did not content me, for the serious question of education for our children now presented

itself; the question which, sooner or later, presents itself to the minds of all the parents of army children. It is

I made up my mind that the first thing to be done was to take the children East and then decide on schools

afterwards. So our plans were completed and the day of departure fixed upon. Jack was to remain at the Post.

About an hour before I was to leave I saw the members of the string orchestra filing across the parade ground,

coming directly towards our quarters. My heart began to beat faster, as I realized that Mrs. Kautz had planned

a serenade for me. I felt it was a great break in my army life, but I did not know I was leaving the old

regiment forever, the regiment with which I had been associated for so many years. And as I listened to the

beautiful strains of the music I loved so well, my eyes were wet with tears, and after all the goodbye's were

said, to the officers and their wives, my friends who had shared all our joys and our sorrows in so many

places and under so many conditions, I ran out to the stable and pressed my cheek against the soft warm

noses of our two saddle horses. I felt that life was over for me, and nothing but work and care remained. I say

I felt all this. It must have been premonition, for I had no idea that I was leaving the line of the army forever.

The ambulance was at the door, to take us to Valentine, where I bade Jack good bye, and took the train for the

East. His last promise was to visit us once a year, or whenever he could get a leave of absence.

My husband had now worn the single bar on his shoulderstrap for eleven years or more; before that, the

straps of the second lieutenant had adorned his broad shoulders for a period quite as long. Twentytwo years

a lieutenant in the regular army, after fighting, in a volunteer regiment of his own state, through the four years

of the Civil War! The "gallant and meritorious service" for which he had received brevets, seemed, indeed, to

have been forgotten. He had grown grey in Indian campaigns, and it looked as if the frontier might always be

the home of the senior lieutenant of the old Eighth. Promotion in that regiment had been at a standstill for

Being in Washington for a short time towards midwinter enjoying the social side of military life at the

Capital, an opportunity came to me to meet President Cleveland, and although his administration was nearing

its close, and the stress of official cares was very great, he seemed to have leisure and interest to ask me about

my life on the frontier; and as the conversation became quite personal, the impulse seized me, to tell him just

how I felt about the education of our children, and then to tell him what I thought and what others thought

about the unjust way in which the promotions and retirements in our regiment had been managed.

He listened with the greatest interest and seemed pleased with my frankness. He asked me what the soldiers

Whereupon he laughed outright and I knew I had committed an indiscretion, but life on the frontier does not

teach one diplomacy of speech, and by that time I was nerved up to say just what I felt, regardless of results.

"Well," he said, smiling, "I am afraid I cannot interfere much with those military matters;" then, pointing with

his left hand and thumb towards the War Department, "they fix them all up over there in the Adjutant

Then he asked me many more questions; if I had always stayed out there with my husband, and why I did not

live in the East, as so many army women did; and all the time I could hear the dull thud of the carpenters'

hammers, for they were building even then the board seats for the public who would witness the inaugural

ceremonies of his successor, and with each stroke of the hammer, his face seemed to grow more sad.

I felt the greatness of the man; his desire to be just and good: his marvellous personal power, his ability to

understand and to sympathize, and when I parted from him he said again laughingly, "Well, I shall not forget

your husband's regiment, and if anything turns up for those fine men you have told me about, they will hear

In the course of our conversation he had asked, "Who are these men? Do they ever come to Washington? I

rarely have these things explained to me and I have little time to interfere with the decisions of the Adjutant

I replied: "No, Mr. President, they are not the men you see around Washington. Our regiment stays on the

frontier, and these men are the ones who do the fighting, and you people here in Washington are apt to forget

"Their records stand in black and white in the War Department," I replied, "if you have the interest to learn

"Mine are based upon what I know, and I am prepared to stand by my convictions," I replied.

Soon after this interview, I returned to New York and I did not give the matter very much further thought, but

my impression of the greatness of Mr. Cleveland and of his powerful personality has remained with me to

A vacancy occurred about this time in the Quartermaster's Department, and the appointment was eagerly

sought for by many Lieutenants of the army. President Cleveland saw fit to give the appointment to

Lieutenant Summerhayes, making him a Captain and Quartermaster, and then, another vacancy occurring

shortly after, he appointed Lieutenant John McEwen Hyde to be also a Captain and Quartermaster.

Lieutenant Hyde stood next in rank to my husband and had grown grey in the old Eighth Infantry. So the

regiment came in for its honor at last, and General Kautz, when the news of the second appointment reached

him, exclaimed, "Well! well! does the President think my regiment a nursery for the Staff?"

The Eighth Foot and the Ninth Horse at Niobrara gave the new Captain and Quartermaster a rousing farewell,

for now my husband was leaving his old regiment forever; and, while he appreciated fully the honor of his

new staff position, he felt a sadness at breaking off the associations of so many yearsa sadness which can

scarcely be understood by the young officers of the present day, who are promoted from one regiment to

another, and rarely remain long enough with one organization to know even the men of their own Company.

There were many champagne suppers, dinners and cardparties given for him, to make the goodbye

something to be remembered, and at the end of a week's festivities, he departed by a night train from

Valentine, thus eluding the hospitality of those generous but wild frontiersmen, who were waiting to give him

For Valentine was like all frontier towns; a row of stores and saloons. The men who kept them were

generous, if somewhat rough. One of the officers of the post, having occasion to go to the railroad station one

day at Valentine, saw the body of a man hanging to a telegraph pole a short distance up the track. He said to

the station man: "What does that mean?" (nodding his head in the direction of the telegraph pole).

"Why, it means just this," said the station man, "the people who hung that man last night had the nerve to put

him right in front of this place, by G. What would the passengers think of this town, sir, as they went by?

Why, the reputation of Valentine would be ruined! Yes, sir, we cut him down and moved him up a pole or

I made haste to present Captain Summerhayes with the shoulderstraps of his new rank, when he joined me

The orders for Santa Fe reached us in midsummer at Nantucket. I knew about as much of Santa Fe as the

average American knows, and that was nothing; but I did know that the Staff appointment solved the problem

of education for us (for Staff officers are usually stationed in cities), and I knew that our frontier life was

over. I welcomed the change, for our children were getting older, and we were ourselves approaching the age

Arriving at Santa Fe in the mellow sunlight of an October day, we were met by my husband and an officer of

the Tenth Infantry, and as we drove into the town, its appearance of placid content, its ancient buildings, its

great trees, its clear air, its friendly, indolentlooking inhabitants, gave me a delightful feeling of home. A

mysterious charm seemed to possess me. It was the spell which that old town loves to throw over the

Lying only eighteen miles away, over a small branch road from Llamy (a station on the Atchison and Topeka

Railroad), few people take the trouble to stop over to visit it. "Dead old town," says the commercial traveller,

But no spot that I have visited in this country has thrown around me the spell of enchantment which held me

The Governor's Palace, the old plaza, the ancient churches, the antiquated customs, the Sisters' Hospital, the

old Convent of Our Lady of Loretto, the soft music of the Spanish tongue, I loved them all.

There were no factories; no noise was ever heard; the sun shone peacefully on, through winter and summer

alike. There was no cold, no heat, but a delightful yeararound climate. Why the place was not crowded with

health seekers, was a puzzle to me. I had thought that the bay of San Francisco offered the most agreeable

climate in America, but, in the Territory of New Mexico, Santa Fe was the perfection of all climates

The old city lies in the broad valley of the Santa Fe Creek, but the valley of the Santa Fe Creek lies seven

thousand feet above the sea level. I should never have known that we were living at a great altitude, if I had

not been told, for the equable climate made us forget to inquire about height or depth or distance.

I listened to old Father de Fourri preach his short sermons in English to the few Americans who sat on one

side of the aisle, in the church of Our Lady of Guadaloupe; then, turning with an easy gesture towards his

Mexican congregation, who sat or knelt near the sanctuary, and saying, "Hermanos mios," he gave the same

discourse in good Spanish. I felt comfortable in the thought that I was improving my Spanish as well as

profiting by Father de Fourri's sound logic. This good priest had grown old at Santa Fe in the service of his

The Mexican women, with their black ribosos wound around their heads and concealing their faces, knelt

After years spent in a heathenish manner, as regards all church observations, this devout and unique service,

Sometimes on a Sunday afternoon I attended Vespers in the chapel of the Sisters' Hospital (as it was called).

Sister Victoria, who was at the head of the management, was not only a very beautiful woman, but she had an

I wrote to my friends in the East to come to the Sisters' Hospital if they wanted health, peace and happiness,

for it was surely to be found there. I visited the convent of Our Lady of Loretto: I stood before a high wall in

an embrasure of which there was a low wooden gate; I pulled on a small knotted string which hung out of a

little hole, and a queer old bell rang. Then one of the nuns came and let me in, across a beautiful garden to the

convent school. I placed my little daughter as a day pupil there, as she was now eleven years old. The nuns

The entire city was ancient, Spanish, Catholic, steeped in a religious atmosphere and in what the average

American Protestant would call the superstitions of the dark ages. There were endless fiestas, and processions

and religious services, I saw them all and became much interested in reading the history of the Catholic

missions, established so early out through what was then a wild and unexplored country. After that, I listened

with renewed interest to old Father de Fouri, who had tended and led his flock of simple people so long and

There was a large painting of Our Lady of Guadaloupe over the altarthese people firmly believed that she

had appeared to them, on the earth, and so strong was the influence around me that I began almost to believe

it too. I never missed the Sunday morning mass, and I fell in easily with the religious observances.

I read and studied about the old explorers, and I seemed to live in the time of Cortez and his brave band. I

became acquainted with Adolf Bandelier, who had lived for years in that country, engaged in research for the

American Archaeological Society. I visited the Indian pueblos, those marvellous structures of adobe, where

live entire tribes, and saw natives who have not changed their manner of speech or dress since the days when

the Spaniards first penetrated to their curious dwellings, three hundred or more years ago. I climbed the

rickety ladders, by which one enters these strange dwellings, and bought the great bowls which these Indians

shape in some manner without the assistance of a potter's wheel, and then bake in their mud ovens.

The pueblo of Tesuque is only nine miles from Santa Fe, and a pleasant drive, at that; it seemed strange to me

that the road was not lined with tourists. But no, they pass all these wonders by, in their disinclination to go

Visiting the pueblos gets to be a craze. Governor and Mrs. Prince knew them allthe pueblo of Taos, of

Santa Clara, San Juan, and others; and the Governor's collection of great stone idols was a marvel indeed. He

kept them laid out on shelves, which resembled the bunks on a great vessel, and in an apartment especially

reserved for them, in his residence at Santa Fe, and it was always with considerable awe that I entered that

apartment. The Governor occupied at that time a low, rambling adobe house, on Palace Avenue, and this,

with its thick walls and low windowseats, made a fit setting for the treasures they had gathered.

Later on, the Governor's family occupied the palace (as it is always called) of the old Spanish Viceroy, a most

The various apartments in this old palace were used for Government offices when we were stationed there in

1889, and in one of these rooms, General Lew Wallace, a few years before, had written his famous book,

On the walls were hanging old portraits painted by the Spaniards in the sixteenth century. They were done on

rawhide, and whether these interesting and historic pictures have been preserved by our Government I do not

The distinguished Anglican clergyman living there taught a small class of boys, and the "Academy," an

excellent school established by the Presbyterian Board of Missions, afforded good advantages for the young

girls of the garrison. And as we had found that the Convent of Loretto was not just adapted to the education

of an American child, we withdrew Katharine from that school and placed her at the Presbyterian Academy.

To be sure, the young woman teacher gave a rousing lecture on total abstinence once a week; going even so

far as to say, that to partake of apple sauce which had begun to ferment was yielding to the temptations of

Satan. The young woman's arguments made a disastrous impression upon our children's minds; so much so,

that the rich German Jews whose daughters attended the school complained greatly; for, as they told us, these

girls would hasten to snatch the decanters from the sideboard, at the approach of visitors, and hide them, and

they began to sit in judgment upon their elders. Now these men were among the leading citizens of the town;

they were selfrespecting and wealthy. They could not stand these extreme doctrines, so opposed to their life

and their traditions. We informed Miss X. one day that she could excuse our children from the total

abstinence lecture, or we should be compelled to withdraw them from the school. She said she could not

compel them to listen, but preach she must. She remained obedient to her orders from the Board, and we

could but respect her for that. Our young daughters were, however, excused from the lecture.

But our time was not entirely given up to the study of ancient pottery, for the social life there was delightful.

The garrison was in the centre of the town, the houses were comfortable, and the streets shaded by old trees.

The Tenth Infantry had its headquarters and two companies there. Every afternoon, the military band played

in the Plaza, where everybody went and sat on benches in the shade of the old trees, or, if cool, in the

delightful sunshine. The pretty and welldressed senoritas cast shy glances at the young officers of the Tenth;

but, alas! the handsome and attractive Lieutenants Van Vliet and Seyburn, and the more sedate Lieutenant

Plummer, could not return these bewitching glances, as they were all settled in life.

The two former officers had married in Detroit, and both Mrs. Van Vliet and Mrs. Seyburn did honor to the

beautiful city of Michigan, for they were most agreeable and clever women, and presided over their army

The Americans who lived there were all professional people; mostly lawyers, and a few bankers. I could not

understand why so many Eastern lawyers lived there. I afterwards learned that the old Spanish land grants

Every morning we rode across country. There were no fences, but the wide irrigation ditches gave us a plenty

of excitement, and the riding was glorious. I had no occasion yet to realize that we had left the line of the

A camping trip to the headwaters of the Pecos, where we caught speckled trout in great abundance in the

foaming riffles and shallow pools of this rushing mountain stream, remaining in camp a week under the

spreading boughs of the mighty pines, added to the variety and delights of our life there.

With such an existence as this, good health and diversion, the time passed rapidly by.

It was against the law now for soldiers to marry; the old days of "laundresses" had passed away. But the

trombone player of the Tenth Infantry band (a young Boston boy) had married a wife, and now a baby had

come to them. They could get no quarters, so we took the family in, and, as the wife was an excellent cook,

we were able to give many small dinners. The walls of the house being three feet thick, we were never

troubled by the trombone practice or the infant's cries. And many a delightful evening we had around the

board, with Father de Fourri, Rev. Mr. Meany (the Anglican clergyman), the officers and ladies of the Tenth,

Such an ideal life cannot last long; this existence of ours does not seem to be contrived on those lines. At the

end of a year, orders came for Texas, and perhaps it was well that orders came, or we might be in Santa Fe

today, wrapt in a dream of past ages; for the city of the Holy Faith had bound us with invisible chains.

With our departure from Santa Fe, all picturesqueness came to an end in our army life. Ever after that, we had

really good houses to live in, which had all modern arrangements; we had beautiful, wellkept lawns and

gardens, the same sort of domestic service that civilians have, and lived almost the same life.

Whenever I think of San Antonio and Fort Sam Houston, the perfume of the wood violet which blossomed in

midwinter along the borders of our lawn, and the delicate odor of the Cape jessamine, seem to be wafted

Fort Sam Houston is the Headquarters of the Department of Texas, and all the Staff officers live there, in

comfortable stone houses, with broad lawns shaded by chinaberry trees. Then at the top of the hill is a great

quadrangle, with a clock tower and all the department offices. On the other side of this quadrangle is the post,

General Stanley commanded the Department. A fine, dignified and able man, with a great record as an Indian

fighter. Jack knew him well, as he had been with him in the first preliminary survey for the northern Pacific

He was now about to reach the age of retirement; and as the day approached, that day when a man has

reached the limit of his usefulness (in the opinion of an everwise Government), that day which sounds the

knell of active service, that day so dreaded and yet so longed for, that day when an army officer is sixtyfour

years old and Uncle Sam lays him upon the shelf, as that day approached, the city of San Antonio, in fact the

entire State of Texas poured forth to bid him Godspeed; for if ever an army man was beloved, it was General

Now on the other side of the great quadrangle lay the post, where were the soldiers' barracks and quarters of

the line officers. This was commanded by Colonel Coppinger, a gallant officer, who had fought in many wars

He had his famous regiment, the Twentythird Infantry, and many were the pleasant dances and theatricals

we had, with the music furnished by their band; for, as it was a time of peace, the troops were all in garrison.

Major Burbank was there also, with his welldrilled Light Battery of the 3rd Artillery.

My husband, being a Captain and Quartermaster, served directly under General George H. Weeks, who was

Chief Quartermaster of the Department, and I can never forget his kindness to us both. He was one of the best

men I ever knew, in the army or out of it, and came to be one of my dearest friends. He possessed the sturdy

qualities of his Puritan ancestry, united with the charming manners of an aristocrat.

We belonged, of course, now, with the Staff, and something, an intangible something, seemed to have gone

out of the life. The officers were all older, and the Staff uniforms were more sombre. I missed the white stripe

of the infantry, and the yellow of the cavalry. The shoulderstraps all had gold eagles or leaves on them,

instead of the Captains' or Lieutenants' bars. Many of the Staff officers wore civilians' clothes, which

distressed me much, and I used to tell them that if I were Secretary of War they would not be permitted to go

"Folderol!" said the finelooking and erect Chief Quartermaster; "you would have us be as vain as we

"You can afford to be," I answered; for, even with his threescore years, he had retained the lines of youth, and

But all my reproaches and all my diplomacy were of no avail in reforming the Staff. Evidently comfort and

One day, I accidentally caught a side view of myself in a long mirror (long mirrors had not been very

plentiful on the frontier), and was appalled by the fact that my own lines corresponded but too well, alas! with

those of the Staff. Ah, me! were the days, then, of Lieutenants forever past and gone? The days of suppleness

and youth, the careless gay days, when there was no thought for the future, no anxiety about education, when

the day began with a wild dash across country and ended with a dinner and dancewere they over, then,

Major Burbank's battery of light artillery came over and enlivened the quiet of our post occasionally with

their brilliant red color. At those times, we all went out and stood in the music pavilion to watch the drill; and

when his horses and guns and caissons thundered down the hill and swept by us at a terrific gallop, our hearts

stood still. Even the dignified Staff permitted themselves a thrill, and as for us women, our excitement knew

The brilliant red of the artillery brought color to the rather grey aspect of the quiet Headquarters post, and the

In San Antonio, the New has almost obliterated the Old, and little remains except its pretty green river, its

picturesque bridges, and the historic Alamo, to mark it from other cities in the Southwest.

In the late afternoon, everybody drove to the Plaza, where all the country people were selling their

gardenstuff and poultry in the open square. This was charming, and we all bought live fowl and drove home

again. One heard cackling and gobbling from the smart traps and victorias, and it seemed to be a survival of

an old custom. The whole town took a drive after that, and supped at eight o'clock.

The San Antonio people believe there is no climate to equal theirs, and talk much about the cool breezes from

the Gulf of Mexico, which is some miles away. But I found seven months of the twelve too hot for comfort,

After I settled down to the sedateness which is supposed to belong to the Staff, I began to enjoy life very

much. There is compensation for every loss, and I found, with the new friends, many of whom had lived their

lives, and had known sorrow and joy, a true companionship which enriched my life, and filled the days with

My son had completed the High School course in San Antonio, under an able German master, and had been

sent East to prepare for the Stevens Institute of Technology, and in the following spring I took my daughter

Katharine and fled from the dreaded heat of a Texas summer. Never can I forget the child's grief on parting

from her Texas pony. She extorted a solemn promise from her father, who was obliged to stay in Texas, that

My brother, then unmarried, and my sister Harriet were living together in New Rochelle and to them we

went. Harry's vacation enabled him to be with us, and we had a delightful summer. It was good to be on the

In the autumn, not knowing what next was in store for us, I placed my dear little Katharine at the Convent of

the Sacred Heart at Kenwood on the Hudson, that she might be able to complete her education in one place,

Shortly after that, Captain Jack was ordered to David's Island, New York Harbor (now called Fort Slocum),

where we spent four happy and uninterrupted years, in the most constant intercourse with my dear brother

Old friends were coming and going all the time, and it seemed so good to us to be living in a place where this

Captain Summerhayes was constructing officer and had a busy life, with all the various sorts of building to be

David's Island was then an Artillery Post, and there were several batteries stationed there. (Afterwards it

became a recruiting station.) The garrison was often entirely changed. At one time, General Henry C. Cook

was in command. He and his charming Southern wife added so much to the enjoyment of the post. Then

came our old friends the Van Vliets of Santa Fe days; and Dr. and Mrs. Valery Havard, who are so well

known in the army, and then Colonel Carl Woodruff and Mrs. Woodruff, whom we all liked so much, and

And we had a series of informal dances and invited the distinguished members of the artist colony from New

Rochelle, and it was at one of these dances that I first met Frederic Remington. I had long admired his work

and had been most anxious to meet him. As a rule, Frederic did not attend any social functions, but he loved

the army, and as Mrs. Remington was fond of social life, they were both present at our first little invitation

About the middle of the evening I noticed Mr. Remington sitting alone and I crossed the hall and sat down

beside him. I then told him how much I had loved his work and how it appealed to all army folks, and how

glad I was to know him, and I suppose I said many other things such as literary men and painters and players

often have to hear from enthusiastic women like myself. However, Frederic seemed pleased, and made some

modest little speech and then fell into an abstracted silence, gazing on the great flag which was stretched

across the hall at one end, and from behind which some few soldiers who were going to assist in serving the

supper were passing in and out. I fell in with his mood immediately, as he was a person with whom formality

was impossible, and said: "What are you looking at, Mr. Remington?" He replied, turning upon me his round

boyish face and his blue eyes gladdening, "I was just thinking I wished I was behind in there where those

blue jackets areyou knowbehind that flag with the soldiersthose are the men I like to study, you

know, I don't like all this fuss and feathers of society"then, blushing at his lack of gallantry, he added: "It's

all right, of course, pretty women and all that, and I suppose you think I'm dreadful anddo you want me to

dance with youthat's the proper thing here isn't it?" Whereupon, he seized me in his great arms and whirled

me around at a pace I never dreamed of, and, once around, he said, "that's enough of this thing, isn't it, let's sit

down, I believe I'm going to like you, though I'm not much for women." I said "You must come over here

often;" and he replied, "You've got a lot of jolly good fellows over here and I will do it."

Afterwards, the Remingtons and ourselves became the closest friends. Mrs. Remington's maiden name was

Eva Caton, and after the first few meetings, she became "little Eva" to meand if ever there was an

embodiment of that gentle lovely name and what it implies, it is this woman, the wife of the great artist, who

has stood by him through all the reverses of his early life and been, in every sense, his guiding star.

And now began visits to the studio, a great room he had built on to his house at New Rochelle. It had an

enormous fire place where great logs were burned, and the walls were hung with the most rare and wonderful

Indian curios. There he did all the painting which has made him famous in the last twenty years, and all the

modelling which has already become so well known and would have eventually made him a name as a great

sculptor. He always worked steadily until three o'clock and then there was a walk or game of tennis or a ride.

Frederic was a student and a deep thinker. He liked to solve all questions for himself and did not accept

readily other men's theories. He thought much on religious subjects and the future life, and liked to compare

the Christian religion with the religions of Eastern countries, weighing them one against the other with

And so we sat, many evenings into the night, Frederic and Jack stretched in their big leather chairs puffing

away at their pipes, Eva with her needlework,and myself a rapt listener: wondering at this man of genius, who

could work with his creative brush all day long and talk with the eloquence of a learned Doctor of Divinity

During the time we were stationed at Davids Island, Mr. Remington and Jack made a trip to the Southwest,

where they shot the peccary (wild hog) in Texas and afterwards blue quail and other game in Mexico. Artist

and soldier, they got on famously together notwithstanding the difference in their ages.

And now he was going to try his hand at a novel, a real romance. We talked a good deal about the little Indian

boy, and I got to love White Weasel long before he appeared in print as John Ermine.The book came out after

we had left New Rochellebut I received a copy from him, and wrote him my opinion of it, which was one

of unstinted praise. But it did not surprise me to learn that he did not consider it a success from a financial

"You see," he said a year afterwards, "that sort of thing does not interest the public. What they want,"here

he began to mimic some funny old East Side person, and both hands gesticulating"is a back yard and a

cabbage patch and a cook stove and babies' clothes drying beside it, you see, Mattie," he said. "They don't

want to know anything about the Indian or the halfbreed, or what he thinks or believes." And then he went

off into one of his irresistible tirades combining ridicule and abuse of the reading public, in language such as

only Frederic Remington could use before women and still retain his dignity. "Well, Frederic," I said, "I will

In writing him my opinion of his book the year before, I had said, "In fact, I am in love with John Ermine."

Now the book was dramatized and produced, with Hackett as John Ermine, at the Globe Theatre in

September of 1902the hottest weather ever on record in Boston at that season. Of course seats were

reserved for us; we were living at Nantucket that year, and we set sail at noon to see the great production. We

snatched a bite of supper at a nearby hotel in Boston and hurried to the theatre, but being late, had some

The curtain was up and there sat Hackett, not with long yellow hair (which was the salient point in the

halfbreed scout) but rather wellgroomed, looking more like a parlor Indian than a real live halfbreed,

The house was full, Hackett did the part well, and the audience murmured on going out: "a very artistic

success." But the play was too mystical, too sad. It would have suited the "New Theatre" patrons better. I

wrote him from Nantucket and criticized one or two minor points, such as the 1850 riding habits of the

women, which were slouchy and unbecoming and made the army people look like poor emigrants and I

I fought for that long hair but the management said the audience has got to, have some Hackettwhy I could

The long rehearsals at night nearly killed meI was completely done up and came home on train Monday in

that terrific heat and now I am in the hands of a doctor. Imagine me a week without sleep.

Hope that fight took Jack back to his youth. For the stage I don't think it was bad. We'll get grey shirts on

I think the play will gobut, we may have to save Ermine. The public is a funny old cat and won't stand for

Well, glad you had a good time and of course you can't charge me up with the heat.

Remington made a trip to the Yellowstone Park and this is what he wrote to Jack. His letters were never

Say if you could get a few puffs of this cold air out here you would think you were full of champagne water. I

I thought I should never be young againbut here I am only 14 years oldmy whiskers are falling out.

Capt. Brown of the 1st cay. wishes to be remembered to you both. He is Park Superintendent. Says if you will

In the course of time, he bought an Island in the St. Lawrence and they spent several summers there.

On the occasion of my husband accepting a detail in active service in Washington at the Soldiers' Home, after

So there you areand I'm d glad you are so nicely fixed. It's the least they could do for you and you

ought to be able to enjoy it for ten years before they find any spavins on you if you will behave yourself, but I

guess you will drift into that Army and Navy Club and round up with a lot of those old alkalied prairiedogs

whom neither Indians nor whiskey could kill and Mr. Gout will take you over his route to Arlington.

I'm on the water wagon and I feel like a young mule. I am never going to get down again to try the walking.

We are having a fine summer and I may run over to Washington this winter and throw my eye over you to

see how you go. We made a trip down to New Foundland but saw nothing worth while. I guess I am getting

At the close of the year just gone, this great soul passed from the earth leaving a blank in our lives that

nothing can ever fill. Passed into the great Beyond whose mysteries were always troubling his mind.

Suddenly and swiftly the call camethe hand was stilled and the restless spirit took its flight.

There was a small steam tug which made regular and frequent trips over to New Rochelle and we enjoyed our

Zogbaum, whose well known pictures of sailors and warships and soldiers had reached us even in the far

Julian Hawthorne with his daughter Hildegarde, now so well known as a literary critic; Henry Loomis

Nelson, whose fair daughter Margaret came to our little dances and promptly fell in love with a young, slim,

straight Artillery officer. A case of love at first sight, followed by a short courtship and a beautiful little

country wedding at Miss Nelson's home on the old Pelham Road, where Hildegarde Hawthorne was

bridesmaid in a white dress and scarlet flowers (the artillery colors) and many famous literary people from

Augustus Thomas, the brilliant playwright, whose home was near the Remingtons on Lathers' Hill, and

whose wife, so young, so beautiful and so accomplished, made that home attractive and charming.

Francis Wilson, known to the world at large, first as a singer in comic opera, and now as an actor and author,

also lived in New Rochelle, and we came to have the honor of being numbered amongst his friends. A

devoted husband and kind father, a man of letters and a book lover, such is the man as we knew him in his

And now came the delicious warm summer days. We persuaded the Quartermaster to prop up the little row of

old bathing houses which had toppled over with the heavy winter gales. There were several bathing

enthusiasts amongst us; we had a pretty fair little stretch of beach which was set apart for the officers'

families, and now what bathing parties we had! Kemble, the illustrator, joined our ranksand on a warm

summer morning the little old Tug Hamilton was gay with the artists and their families, the players and

writers of plays, and soon you could see the little garrison hastening to the beach and the swimmers running

down the long pier, down the runway and off head first into the clear waters of the Sound. What a company

was that! The younger and the older ones all together, children and their fathers and mothers, all happy, all

well, all so gay, and we of the frontier so enamored of civilization and what it brought us! There were no

intruders and ah! those were happy days. Uncle Sam seemed to be making up to us for what we had lost

Then Augustus Thomas wrote the play of "Arizona" and we went to New York to see it put on, and we sat in

Mr. Thomas' box and saw our frontier life brought before us with startling reality.

And so one season followed another. Each bringing its pleasures, and then came another lovely wedding, for

my brother Harry gave up his bachelor estate and married one of the nicest and handsomest girls in

Westchester County, and their home in New Rochelle was most attractive. My son was at the Stevens

Institute and both he and Katharine were able to spend their vacations at David's Island, and altogether, our

We were doomed to have one more tour in the West, however, and this time it was the Middle West.

For in the autumn of '96, Jack was ordered to Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, on construction work.

Jefferson Barracks is an old and historic post on the Mississippi River, some ten miles south of St. Louis. I

could not seem to take any interest in the post or in the life there. I could not form new ties so quickly, after

our life on the coast, and I did not like the Mississippi Valley, and St. Louis was too far from the post, and the

trolley ride over there too disagreeable for words. After seven months of just existing (on my part) at

Jefferson Barracks, Jack received an order for Fort Myer, the end, the aim, the dream of all army people. Fort

We lost no time in getting there and were soon settled in our pleasant quarters. There was some building to be

done, but the duty was comparatively light, and we entered with considerable zest into the social life of the

Capital. We expected to remain there for two years, at the end of which time Captain Summerhayes would be

But alas! our anticipation was never to be realized, for, as we all know, in May of 1898, the Spanish War

broke out, and my husband was ordered to New York City to take charge of the Army Transport Service,

No delay was permitted to him, so I was left behind, to pack up the household goods and to dispose of our

The battle of Manila Bay had changed the current of our lives, and we were once more adrift.

The young Cavalry officers came in to say goodbye to Captain Jack: every one was busy packing up his

belongings for an indefinite period and preparing for the field. We all felt the undercurrent of sadness and

uncertainty, but "a good health" and "happy return" was drunk all around, and Jack departed at midnight for

The next morning at daybreak we were awakened by the tramp, tramp of the Cavalry, marching out of the

We peered out of the windows and watched the troops we loved so well, until every man and horse had

My sister Harriet, who was visiting us at that time, returned from her morning walk, and as she stepped upon

the porch, she said: "Well! of all lonesome places I ever saw, this is the worst yet. I am going to pack my

trunk and leave. I came to visit an army post, but not an old women's home or an orphan asylum: that is about

Whereupon, she proceeded immediately to carry out her resolution, and I was left behind with my young

To describe the year which followed, that strenuous year in New York, is beyond my power.

That summer gave Jack his promotion to a Major, but the anxiety and the terrible strain of official work broke

down his health entirely, and in the following winter the doctors sent him to Florida, to recuperate.

After six weeks in St. Augustine, we returned to New York. The stress of the war was over; the Major was

ordered to Governor's Island as Chief Quartermaster, Department of the East, and in the following year he

I was glad to rest from the incessant changing of stations; the life had become irksome to me, in its perpetual

unrest. I was glad to find a place to lay my head, and to feel that we were not under orders; to find and to

In 1903, by an act of Congress, the veterans of the Civil War, who had served continuously for thirty years or

more were given an extra grade, so now my hero wears with complacency the silver leaf of the

But that fatal spirit of unrest from which I thought to escape, and which ruled my life for so many years,

sometimes asserts its power, and at those times my thoughts turn back to the days when we were all

Lieutenants together, marching across the deserts and mountains of Arizona; back to my friends of the Eighth

Infantry, that historic regiment, whose officers and men fought before the walls of Chapultepec and Mexico,

back to my friends of the Sixth Cavalry, to the days at Camp MacDowell, where we slept under the stars, and

watched the sun rise from behind the Four Peaks of the MacDowell Mountains: where we rode the big

cavalry horses over the sands of the Maricopa desert, swung in our hammocks under the ramadas; swam in

the red waters of the Verde River, ate canned peaches, pink butter and commissary hams, listened for the

scratching of the centipedes as they scampered around the edges of our canvascovered floors, found

The old post is long since abandoned, but the Four Peaks still stand, wrapped in their black shadows by night,

and their purple colors by day, waiting for the passing of the Apache and the coming of the white man, who

shall dig his canals in those arid plains, and build his cities upon the ruins of the ancient Aztec dwellings.

The Sixth Cavalry, as well as the Eighth Infantry, has seen many vicissitudes since those days. Some of our

gallant Captains and Lieutenants have won their stars, others have been slain in battle.

Dear, gentle Major Worth received wounds in the Cuban campaign, which caused his death, but he wore his

The gay young officers of Angel Island days hold dignified commands in the Philippines, Cuba, and Alaska.

My early experiences were unusually rough. None of us seek such experiences, but possibly they bring with

them a sort of recompense, in that simple comforts afterwards seem, by contrast, to be the greatest luxuries.

I am glad to have known the army: the soldiers, the line, and the Staff; it is good to think of honor and

chivalry, obedience to duty and the pride of arms; to have lived amongst men whose motives were unselfish

and whose aims were high; amongst men who served an ideal; who stood ready, at the call of their country, to

Sometimes I hear the still voices of the Desert: they seem to be calling me through the echoes of the Past. I

hear, in fancy, the wheels of the ambulance crunching the small broken stones of the malapais, or grating

swiftly over the gravel of the smooth white roads of the riverbottoms. I hear the rattle of the ivory rings on

the harness of the sixmule team; I see the soldiers marching on ahead; I see my white tent, so inviting after a

But how vain these fancies! Railroad and automobile have annihilated distance, the army life of those years is

past and gone, and Arizona, as we knew it, has vanished from the face of the earth.

When, a few years ago, I determined to write my recollections of life in the army, I was wholly unfamiliar

with the methods of publishers, and the firm to whom I applied to bring out my book, did not urge upon me

the advisability of having it electrotyped, firstly, because, as they said afterwards, I myself had such a very

modest opinion of my book, and, secondly because they thought a book of so decidedly personal a character

would not reach a sale of more than a few hundred copies at the farthest. The matter of electrotyping was not

even discussed between us. The entire edition of one thousand copies was exhausted in about a year, without

having been carried on the lists of any bookseller or advertised in any way except through some circulars sent

by myself to personal friends, and through several excellent reviews in prominent newspapers.

As the demand for the book continued, I have thought it advisable to reissue it, adding a good deal that has

It was after the Colonel's retirement that we came to spend the summers at Nantucket, and I began to enjoy

the leisure that never comes into the life of an army woman during the active service of her husband. We

were no longer expecting sudden orders, and I was able to think quietly over the events of the past.

My old letters which had been returned to me really gave me the inspiration to write the book and as I read

them over, the people and the events therein described were recalled vividly to my mindevents which I had

forgotten, people whom I had forgottenevents and people all crowded out of my memory for many years

by the pressure of family cares, and the succession of changes in our stations, by anxiety during Indian

campaigns, and the constant readjustment of my mind to new scenes and new friends.

And so, in the delicious quiet of the Autumn days at Nantucket, when the summer winds had ceased to blow

and the frogs had ceased their pipings in the salt meadows, and the sea was wondering whether it should keep

its summer blue or change into its winter grey, I sat down at my desk and began to write my story.

Looking out over the quiet ocean in those wonderful November days, when a peaceful calm brooded over all

things, I gathered up all the threads of my various experiences and wove them together.

But the people and the lands I wrote about did not really exist for me; they were dream people and dream

lands. I wrote of them as they had appeared to me in those early years, and, strange as it may seem, I did not

For a quarter of a century I had lived in the day that began with reveille and ended with "Taps."

Now on this enchanted island, there was no reveille to awaken us in the morning, and in the evening the only

sound we could hear was the "ruck" of the waves on the far outer shores and the sad tolling of the bell buoy

And so I wrote, and the story grew into a book which was published and sent out to friends and family.

As time passed on, I began to receive orders for the book from army officers, and then one day I received

orders from people in Arizona and I awoke to the fact that Arizona was no longer the land of my memories. I

began to receive booklets telling me of projected railroads, also pictures of wonderful buildings, all showing

And then came letters from some Presidents of railroads whose lines ran through Arizona, and from bankers

and politicians and business men of Tucson, Phoenix and Yuma City. Photographs showing shady roads and

streets, where once all was a glare and a sandy waste. Letters from mining men who knew every foot of the

roads we had marched over; pictures of the great Laguna dam on the Colorado, and of the quarters of the

These letters and pictures told me of the wonderful contrast presented by my story to the Arizona of today;

and although I had not spared that country, in my desire to place before my children and friends a vivid

picture of my life out there, all these men seemed willing to forgive me and even declared that my story

might do as much to advance their interests and the prosperity of Arizona as anything which had been written

My soul was calmed by these assurances, and I ceased to be distressed by thinking over the descriptions I had

In the meantime, the San Francisco Chronicle had published a good review of my book, and reproduced the

photograph of Captain Jack Mellon, the noted pilot of the Colorado river, adding that he was undoubtedly

one of the most picturesque characters who had ever lived on the Pacific Coast and that he had died some

And so he was really dead! And perhaps the others too, were all gone from the earth, I thought when one day

I received a communication from an entire stranger, who informed me that the writer of the review in the San

Francisco newspaper had been mistaken in the matter of Captain Mellon's death, that he had seen him

recently and that he lived at San Diego. So I wrote to him and made haste to forward him a copy of my book,

Your good book and letter came yesterday p. m., for which accept my thanks. My home is not in San Diego,

but in Coronado, across the bay from San Diego. That is the reason I did not get your letter sooner.

In one hour after I received your book, I had orders for nine of them. All these books go to the official force

of the Reclamation Service here who are Damming the Colorado for the Government Irrigation Project. They

are not Damming it as we formerly did, but with good solid masonry. The Dam is 4800 feet long and 300 feet

wide and 10 feet above high water. In high water it will flow over the top of the Dam, but in low water the

ditches or canals will take all the water out of the River, the approximate cost is three million. There will be a

tunnel under the River at Yuma just below the Bridge, to bring the water into Arizona which is thickly settled

I have done nothing on the River since the 23rd of last August, at which date they closed the River to

Navigation, and the only reason I am now in Yumai s trying to get something from Government for my boats

made useless by the Dam. I expect to get a little, but not a tenth of what they cost me.

Your book could not have a better title: it is "Vanished Arizona" sure enough, vanished the good and warm

Hearts that were here when you were. The People here now are cold blooded as a snake and are all trying to

There are but two alive that were on the River when you were on it. Polhemus and myself are all that are left,

The nurse Patrocina died in Los Angeles last summer and the crying kid Jesusita she had on the boat when

you went from Ehrenberg to the mouth of the River grew up to be the finest looking Girl in these Parts; She

was the Star witness in a murder trial in Los Angeles last winter, and her picture was in all of the Papers.

I am sending you a picture of the Steamer "Mojave" which was not on the river when you were here. I made

20 trips with her up to the Virgin River, which is 145 miles above Fort Mojave, or 75 miles higher than any

other man has gone with a boat: she was 10 feet longer than the "Gila" or any other boat ever on the River.

In 1864 I was on a trip down the Gulf of California, in a small sail boat and one of my companions was John

Stanton. In Angel's Bay a man whom we were giving a passage to, murdered my partner and ran off with the

boat and left Charley Ticen, John Stanton and myself on the beach. We were seventeen days tramping to a

village with nothing to eat but cactus but I think I have told you the story before and what I want to know, is

this Stanton alive. He belonged to New Bedfordhis father had been master of a whaleship.

When we reached Guaymas, Stanton found a friend, the mate of a steamer, the mate also belonged to New

Bedford. When we parted, Stanton told me he was going home and was going to stay there, and as he was

two years younger than me, he may still be in New Bedford, and as you are on the ground, maybe you can

All the people that I know praise your descriptive power and now my dear Mrs. Summerhayes I suppose you

will have a hard time wading through my scrawl but I know you will be generous and remember that I went

to sea when a little over nine years of age and had my pen been half as often in my hand as a marlin spike, I

I have a little bungalow on Coronado Beach, across the bay from San Diego, and if you ever come there, you

or your husband, you are welcome; while I have a bean you can have half. I would like to see you and talk

over old times. Yuma is quite a place now; no more adobes built; it is brick and concrete, cement sidewalks

My home is within five minutes walk of the Pacific Ocean. I was born at Digby, Nova Scotia, and the first

music I ever heard was the surf of the Bay of Fundy, and when I close my eyes forever I hope the surf of the

I read Vanished Arizona last night until after midnight, and thought what we both had gone through since you

first came up the Colorado with me. My acquaintance with the army was always pleasant, and like Tom

Let fate do her worst, there are relics of joy Bright dreams of the past which she cannot destroy! Which come

in the nighttime of sorrow and care And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my

I suppose the Colonel goes down to the Ship Chandler's and gams with the old whaling captains. When I was

a boy, there was a wealthy family of shipowners in New Bedford by the name of Robinson. I saw one of

their ships in Bombay, India, that was in 1854, her name was the Mary Robinson, and altho' there were over a

Well, good friend, I am afraid I will tire you out, so I will belay this, and with best wishes for you and yours,

I had fancied, when Vanished Arizona was published, that it might possibly appeal to the sympathies of

women, and that men would lay it aside as a sortof a "woman's book"but I have received more really

sympathetic letters from men than I have from women, all telling me, in different words, that the human side

of the story had appealed to them, and I suppose this comes from the fact that originally I wrote it for my

children, and felt perfect freedom to put my whole self into it. And now that the book is entirely out of my

hands, I am glad that I wrote it as I did, for if I had stopped to think that my dream people might be real

people, and that the real people would read it, I might never have had the courage to write it at all.

The many letters I have received of which there have been several hundred I am sure, have been so

I have just read the book. It is a good book, a true book, one of the best kind of books. After taking it up I did

not lay it down till it was finishedtill with you I had again gone over the malapais deserts of Arizona, and

recalled my own meetings with you at Niobrara and at old Fort Marcy or Santa Fe. You were my cicerone in

The book has recalled many memories to me. Scarcely a name you mention but is or was a friend. Major Van

Vliet loaned me his copy, but I shall get one of my own and shall tell my friends in the East that, if they

desire a true picture of army life as it appears to the army woman, they must read your book.

For my part I feel that I must congratulate you on your successful work and thank you for the pleasure you

With cordial regard to you and yours, and with best wishes for many happy years.

I am sending you herewith my check for two copies of "Vanished Arizona." This summer our mutual friend,

Colonel Beaumont (late 4th U. S. Cav.) ordered two copies for me and I have given them both away to

friends whom I wanted to have read your delightful and charming book. I am now ordering one of these for

another friend and wish to keep one in my record library as a memorable story of the bravery and courage of

the noble band of army men and women who helped to blaze the pathway of the nation's progress in its

No personal record written, which I have read, tells so splendidly of what the good women of our army

endured in the trials that beset the army in the life on the plains in the days succeeding the Civil War. And all

this at a time when the nation and its people were caring but little for you all and the struggles you were

I will be pleased indeed if you will kindly inscribe your name in one of the books you will send me.

Were I to say that I enjoyed "Vanished Arizona, "I should very inadequately express my feelings about it,

because there is so much to arouse emotions deeper than what we call "enjoyment;" it stirs the sympathies

and excites our admiration for your courage and your fortitude. In a word, the story, honest and unaffected,

How actual knowledge and experience broadens our minds! Your appreciation of, and charity for, the

weaknesses of those living a lonely life of deprivation on the frontier, impressed me very much. I wish too,

that what you say about the canteen could be published in every newspaper in America.

THE MILITARY SERVICE INSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. Governor's Island, N. Y. June 25,

I offer my personal congratulations upon your success in producing a work of such absorbing interest to all

I have just finished reading the book, from cover to cover, to my wife and we have enjoyed it thoroughly.

Will you please advise me where the book can be purchased in New York, or otherwise mail two copies to

me at 203 W. 54th Street, New York City, with memo of price per copy, that I may remit the amount.

I have read every word of your book "Vanished Arizona" with intense interest. You have given a vivid

account of what you actually saw and lived through, and nobody can resist the truthfulness and reality of your

narrative. The book is a real contribution to American history, and to the chronicles of army life.

Captain William Baird, 6th Cavalry, retired, now at Annapolis, sent me Mrs. Summerhay's book to read, and

I have read it with delight, for I was in "K" when Mrs. Summerhays "took on" in the 8th. Myself and my

brother, Michael, served in "K" Company from David's Island to Camp Apache. Doubtless you have

forgotten me, but I am sure that you remember the tall fifer of "K", Michael Gurnett. He was killed at Camp

Mohave in Sept. 1885, while in Company "G" of the 1st Infantry. I was five years in "K", but my brother

reenlisted in "K", and afterward joined the First. He served in the 31st, 22nd, 8th and 1st.

Oh, that little book! We're all in it, even poor Charley Bowen. Mrs. Summerhays should have written a longer

story. She soldiered long enough with the 8th in the "bloody 70's" to be able to write a book five times as big.

For what she's done, God bless her! She is entitled to the Irishman's benediction: "May every hair in her head

be a candle to light her soul to glory." We poor old Regulars have little said about us in print, and wish to

God that "Vanished Arizona" was in the hands of every old veteran of the "Marching 8th." If I had the means

I would send a copy to our 1st Serg't Bernard Moran, and the other old comrades at the Soldiers' Home. But,

alas, evil times have fallen upon us, andI'm not writing a jeremiadI took the book from the post office

and when I saw the crossed guns and the"8" there was a lump in my throat, and I went into the barber shop

and read it through before I left. A friend of mine was in the shop and when I came to Pringle's death, he said,

I believe I was, but they were tears of joy. And, Oh, Lord, to think of Bowen having a full page in history;

but, after all, maybe he deserved it. And that picture of my company commander! [Worth]. Long, long, have I

gazed on it. I was only sixteen and a half years old when I joined his company at David's Island, Dec. 6th,

1871. Folliot A. Whitney was 1st lieutenant and Cyrus Earnest, 2nd. What a fine man Whitney was. A finer

man nor truer gentleman ever wore a shoulder strap. If he had been company commander I'd have reenlisted

and stayed with him. I was always afraid of Worth, though he was always good to my brother and myself. I

deeply regretted Lieut. Whitney's death in Cuba, and I watched Major Worth's career in the last war. It nearly

broke my heart that I could not go. Oh, the rattle of the war drum and the bugle calls and the marching troops,

The copy I have read was loaned me by Captain Baird; he says it's a Christmas gift from General Carter, and

I must return it. My poor wife has read it with keen interest and says she: "William, I am going to have that

Well, Colonel, I'm right glad to know that you are still on this side of the great divide, and I know that you

I am working for a Cumberland newspaperLonaconing reporterand I will send you a copy or two of the

Read your bookin fact when I got started I forgot my bedtime (and you know how rigid that is) and sat it

It has a bully note of the old armyit was all worthwhilethey had color, those days.

I saynow suppose you had married a man who kept a drug storesee what you would have had and see