GARRISON LIFE.
There were about forty in our garrison circle, and as we were very
harmonious we spent nearly every evening together. I think it is the
general belief that the peace of an army post depends very much upon
the example set by the commanding officer. My husband, in the six years
previous, had made it very clear, in a quiet way, that he would much
prefer that there should be no conversation detrimental to others in
his quarters. It required no effort for him to refrain from talking
about his neighbors, but it was a great deprivation to me occasionally.
Once in a while, when some one had brought down wrath upon his or her
head by doing something deserving of censure, the whole garrison was
voluble in its denunciation; and if I plunged into the subject also
and gave my opinion, I soon noticed my husband grow silent and finally
slip away. I was not long in finding an excuse to follow him and ask
what I had done. Of course I knew him too well not to divine that I
had hurt him in some manner. Then he would make a renewed appeal to
me beginning by an unanswerable plea, “if you wish to please me,” and
imploring me not to join in discussions concerning any one. He used to
assure me that in his heart he believed me superior to such things.
In vain I disclaimed being of that exalted order of females, and
declared that it required great self-denial not to join in a gossip.
The discussion ended by his desiring me to use _him_ as a safety-valve
if I _must_ criticise others. From motives of policy alone, if actuated
by no higher incentive, it seemed wise to suppress one’s ebullitions of
anger. In the States it is possible to seek new friends if the old ones
become tiresome and exasperating, but once in a post like ours, so far
removed, there is no one else to whom one can turn. We never went away
on leave of absence, and heard ladies in civil life say emphatically
that they did not like some person they knew, and “never would,”
without a start of terror. I forgot that their lives were not confined
to the small precincts of a territorial post, where such avowed enmity
is disastrous.
I had very little opportunity to know much of official matters; they
were not talked about at home. Instinct guided me always in detecting
the general’s enemies, and when I found them out, a struggle began
between us as to my manner of treating them. My husband urged that it
would embarrass him if others found out that I had surmised anything
regarding official affairs. He wished social relations to be kept
distinct, and he could not endure to see me show dislike to any one who
did not like him. I argued in reply that I felt myself dishonest if
I even spoke to one whom I hated. The contest ended by his appealing
to my good-sense, arguing that as the wife of the commanding officer
I belonged to every one, and in our house I should be hospitable
upon principle. As every one visited us, there was no escape for me,
but I do not like to think now of having welcomed any one from whom I
inwardly recoiled.
I was not let off on such occasions with any formal shake of the hand.
My husband watched me, and if I was not sufficiently cordial he gave
me, afterwards, in our bedroom, a burlesque imitation of my manner. I
could not help laughing, even when annoyed, to see him caricature me by
advancing coldly, extending the tips of his fingers, and bowing loftily
to some imaginary guest. His raillery, added to my wish to please him,
had the effect of making me shake hands so vigorously that I came near
erring the other way and being too demonstrative, and thus giving the
impression that I was the best friend of some one I really dreaded.
As I was in the tent during so many summers, and almost constantly
in my husband’s library in our winter quarters, I naturally learned
something of what was transpiring. I soon found, however, that it
would do no good if I asked questions in the hope of gaining further
information. As to curiosity ever being one of my conspicuous faults,
I do not remember, but I do recollect most distinctly how completely I
was taken aback by an occurrence which took place a short time after we
were married. I had asked some idle question about official matters,
and was promptly informed in a grave manner, though with a mischievous
twinkle of the eye, that whatever information I wanted could be had by
application to the adjutant-general. This was the stereotyped form of
endorsement on papers sent up to the regimental adjutant asking for
information. One incident of many comes to me now, proving how little
I knew of anything but what pertained to our own home circle. The wife
of an officer once treated me with marked coldness. I was unaware of
having hurt her in any way, and at once took my grievance to that
source where I found sympathy for the smallest woe. My husband pondered
a moment, and then remembered that the husband of my friend and he had
had some slight official difficulty, and the lady thinking I knew of it
was taking her revenge on me.
When I first entered army life I used to wonder what it meant when I
heard officers say, in a perfectly serious voice, “Mrs. ---- commands
her husband’s company.” It was my good-fortune not to encounter any
such female grenadiers. A circumstance occurred which made me retire
early from any attempt to assume the slightest authority. One of the
inexhaustible jokes that the officers never permitted me to forget was
an occurrence that happened soon after the general took command of the
7th Cavalry. A soldier had deserted, and had stolen a large sum of
money from one of the lieutenants. My sympathy was so aroused for the
officer that I urged him to lose no time in pursuing the man to the
nearest town, whither he was known to have gone. In my interest and
zeal I assured the officer that I knew the general would be willing,
and he need not wait to apply for leave through the adjutant’s office.
I even hurried him away. When the general came in I ran to him with my
story, expecting his sympathy, and that he would endorse all that I had
done. On the contrary, he quietly assured me that he commanded the
regiment, and that he would like me to make it known to the lieutenant
that he must apply through the proper channels for leave of absence.
Thereupon I ate a large piece of humble pie, but was relieved to find
that the officer had shown more sense than I, and had not accepted my
proferred leave, but had prudently waited to write out his application.
Years afterwards, when my husband told me what a source of pride it
was to him that others had realized how little I knew about official
affairs, and assured me that my curiosity was less than that of any
woman he had ever known, I took little credit to myself. It would
have been strange, after the drilling of military life, if I had not
attained some progress.
The general planned every military action with so much secrecy that we
were left to divine as best we could what certain preliminary movements
meant. One morning, when it was too cold for anything but important
duty, without any explanations he started off with a company of cavalry
and several wagons. As they crossed the river on the ice, we surmised
that he was going to Bismarck. It seemed that the general had been
suspicious that the granaries were being robbed, and finally a citizen
was caught driving off a loaded wagon of oats from the reservation in
broad daylight. This was about as high-handed an instance of thieving
as the general had encountered, and he quietly set to work to find out
the accomplices. In a little while it was ascertained that the robbers
had concealed their plunder in a vacant store in the principal street
of Bismarck.
The general determined to go himself directly to the town, thinking
that he could do quickly and without opposition what another might
find difficult. The better class of citizens honored him too highly to
oppose his plan of action, even though it was unprecedented for the
military to enter a town on such an errand. The general knew the exact
place at which to halt, and drew the company up in line in front of the
door. He demanded the key, and directed the men to transfer the grain
to the wagons outside. Without a protest, or an exchange of words even,
the troops marched out of the town as quietly as they had entered. This
ended the grain thefts.
It was a surprise to me that after the life of excitement my husband
had led, he should grow more and more domestic in his tastes. His
daily life was very simple. He rarely left home except to hunt, and
was scarcely once a year in the sutler’s store, where the officers
congregated to play billiards and cards. If the days were too stormy or
too cold for hunting, as they often were for a week or more at a time,
he wrote and studied for hours every day. We had the good-fortune to
have a billiard-table loaned us by the sutler, and in the upper room
where it was placed, my husband and I had many a game when he was weary
with writing.
The general sometimes sketched the outline of my pictures, which I was
preparing to paint, for he drew better than I did, and gladly availed
himself of a chance to secure variety of occupation.
The relatives of the two young housemaids whom we had in our service
regretted that they were missing school, so the general had the
patience to teach them. The day rarely passed that Col. Tom, my
husband, and I did not have a game of romps. The grave orderly who sat
by the hall-door used to be shocked to see the commanding officer in
hot pursuit of us up the steps. The quick transformation which took
place when he was called from the frolic to receive the report of the
officer of the day was something very ridiculous.
Occasionally he joined those who gathered in our parlor every
evening. He had a very keen sense of his social responsibilities as
post-commander, and believed that our house should be open at all
hours to the garrison. His own studious habits made it a deprivation
if he gave up much of his time to entertaining. I learned that in no
way could I relieve him so much as by being always ready to receive.
He grew to expect that I would be in the parlor at night, and plan
whatever diversions we had. I managed to slip away several times in the
evening, and go to him for a little visit, or possibly a waltz, while
the rest danced in the other room. If I delayed going to him while
absorbed in the general amusement, a knock at the door announced the
orderly carrying a note for me. Those missives always reminded me of my
forgetfulness in some ingenious arrangement of words. When I laughed
outright over one of these little scraps, our friends begged me to
share the fun with them. It was only a line, and read, “Do you think I
am a confirmed monk?” Of course they insisted laughingly upon my going
at once to the self-appointed hermit.
We spent the days together almost uninterruptedly during the winter.
The garrison gave me those hours and left us alone. My husband had
arranged my sewing-chair and work-basket next to his desk, and he read
to me constantly. At one time we had read five authorities on Napoleon,
whose military career was a never-ending source of interest to him.
He studied so carefully that he kept the atlas before him, and marked
the course of the two armies of the French and English with pencils
of different color. One of his favorite books was a life of Daniel
Webster, given him in the States by a dear friend. Anything sad moved
him so that his voice choked with emotion, and I have known him lay
down the book and tell me he could not go on. One of the many passages
in that beautifully written book, which my husband thought the most
utterly pathetic of all, was the tribute an old farmer had paid to the
dead statesman. Looking down upon the face of the orator for the last
time, the old man says, in soliloquy, “Ah, Daniel, the world will be
lonesome now you are gone!”
I became so accustomed to this quiet life in the library with my
husband that I rarely went out. If I did begin the rounds of our little
circle with our girl-friend, whom every one besought to visit them,
an orderly soon followed us up. Without the glint of a smile, and in
exactly the tone of a man giving the order for a battle, he said, “The
general presents his compliments, and would like to know when he shall
send the trunks?” I recollect a message of this sort being once brought
to us when we were visiting an intimate friend, by the tallest, most
formidable soldier in the regiment. It was a mystery to us how he
managed to deliver his errand without moving a muscle of his face. He
presented the compliments of the commanding officer, and added, “He
sent you these.” We did not trust ourselves to look up at his lofty
face, but took from his extended bands two bundles of white muslin.
There was no mistaking the shape; they were our night-dresses. When
we hurried home, and took the general to task for making us face the
solemn orderly, he only replied by asking if we had intended to stay
forever, pointing to his open watch, and speaking of the terrors of
solitary confinement!
It was the custom at guard mount every morning to select the cleanest,
most soldierly-looking man for duty as orderly for the post-commander.
It was considered the highest honor, and really was something of a
holiday, as the man detailed for this duty had but little to do, and
then had his night in bed; otherwise, belonging to the guard, and being
newly appointed every twenty-four hours, he would have been obliged
to break his rest to go on picket duty at intervals all night. There
was great strife to get this position, and it was difficult for the
adjutant to make the selection. He sometimes carried his examination
so far as to try and find dust on the carbines with his cambric
handkerchief.
Guard mount in pleasant weather, with the adjutant and officer of the
day in full uniform, each soldier perfect in dress, with the band
playing, was a very interesting ceremony. In Dakota’s severe cold it
looked like a parade of animals at the Zoo! All were compelled to wear
buffalo overcoats and shoes, fur caps and gloves. When the orderly
removed these heavy outside wraps, however, he stood out as fine a
specimen of manhood as one ever sees. His place in our hall was near
the stove, and on the table by his side were papers and magazines,
many of which were sent by the Young Men’s Christian Association of
New York. The general had once met the secretary of the society, and
in response to his inquiry about reading-matter, he impressed him by
a strong statement of what a treasure anything of the kind was at an
isolated post.
There was usually a variety of reading-matter, but one day the orderly
stole out to the cook with a complaint. He asked for the general’s
_Turf, Field, and Farm_, or Wilkes’s _Spirit of the Times_, which he
was accustomed to find awaiting him, and confessed that “those pious
papers were too bagoted” for him! He usually sat still all day, only
taking an occasional message for the general, or responding to a
beckoning invitation from Mary’s brown finger at the kitchen-door.
There he found a little offering from her of home things to eat.
Occasionally, in the evening, the general forgot to dismiss him at
taps. After that a warning cough issued from the hall. When this had
been repeated several times, my husband used to look up so merrily and
say to me it was remarkable how temporary consumption increased after
the hour of bedtime had come. When the general had a message to send,
he opened his door and rattled off his order so fast that it was almost
impossible for one unacquainted with his voice to understand. If I saw
the dazed eyes of a new soldier, I divined that probably he did not
catch a word. Without the general’s noticing it, I slipped through our
room into the hall and translated the message to him.
When I returned, and gave my husband the best imitation I could of
the manner in which he spoke when hurried, and described the orderly,
standing, rubbing his perplexed head over the unintelligible gibberish,
he threw himself on the lounge in peals of laughter. While we were in
the States, sometimes he was invited to address audiences, but being
unaccustomed to public speaking, and easily embarrassed, he made very
droll attempts. He realized that he had not the gift of oratory, and
I used to wish that he would practise the art. I insisted, that if
he continued to speak so fast in public, I would be obliged to stand
beside him on the platform as interpreter for his hearers, or else take
my position in the audience and send him a sign of warning from there.
I proposed to do something so startling that he could not help checking
his mad speed. He was so earnest about everything he did, I assured
him no ordinary signal would answer, and we finished the laughing
discussion by my volunteering to rise in the audience the next time he
spoke, and raise an umbrella as a warning to slacken up!