I doubt if any but those who have lived among the prairies or
mountains of the far West can realize how keenly is felt the loss of
that endless environment which becomes a part of life itself, and
which is missed when deprived of, especially at first, almost like
one’s daily bread.
From the city I went to my husband’s home in New York State, on
a spur of the Catskill Mountains, where I seemed to breathe more
freely, and was enchanted during those long summer months by the
exquisite green of grass, trees, and landscape—in a word, by every
thing that refreshed the eye after such a long period of gray hues,
and which certainly my beloved West lacked.
I was enthusiastic over the fresh verdure of our beautiful mountain
home, just as I had been over the gray loveliness of the West. It
was, no doubt, the marked contrast which gladdened my eyes. Not a
moment was spent in-doors if it could be avoided; and when compelled
to do so, I placed myself where a perpetual feast to the eyes was in
full view.
One could dwell perpetually amid recollections of the past; so I will
hasten over that quiet, restful summer to the succeeding fall, when
my husband arrived on his first leave of absence. Needless to say the
young soldier was greeted by his family with the welcome befitting
one, who, having spent three years in distant service, returned to
his home with unalloyed pleasure, and reviewed with renewed delight
the early surroundings and memories of his youth.
During the month following Mr. Boyd’s arrival our first boy was
born, and no prince could ever have been received with more sincere
delight. Parents and grandparents were unanimous in considering
him wonderful, and indeed he was a splendid baby! My husband
celebrated his advent as we would have done on the frontier, with
much rejoicing; but the Puritan grandparents seriously objected to
conviviality of any kind, and seized the occasion to obtain their
son’s promise to abstain in future from intoxicating liquors of every
description. To gratify his dear father Mr. Boyd agreed, although
there was no necessity for such a pledge, as he had always been most
temperate. Our son was ten years of age before Captain Boyd again
tasted liquor, and then it was by the doctor’s express order.
When our baby boy was three months old his father began to think
the country a cold place for us, and to debate the desirability
of a return to New York, especially as he felt we were entitled,
after our long sojourn on the frontier, to some of the pleasures
of Eastern life. One entire morning was spent in discussing the
matter. The conclusion arrived at was, that even if we remained with
relatives the amount of my husband’s pay would in no wise suffice
for the ordinary expenses of life in New York. In order to have any
leisure I should require a nurse for our two little children, and the
half-pay received was only sixty-five dollars a month.
In relating these experiences of army life, I wish it distinctly
understood that I am not exaggerating—simply stating facts. A cavalry
officer was deprived of almost every opportunity of visiting home
and relatives in the East, and when permitted to do so on leave was
compelled to plunge in debt, which involved him for years afterward
in difficulties: so, great as was the pleasure, and most innocent and
natural, we considered it too dearly bought ever to be repeated, and
therefore did not again come East until compelled to do so on account
of our children’s education.
My husband had journeyed from Fort Stanton to New York at frightful
expense, traveling by stage to Denver, which, as my previous
experience has shown, was the most costly mode of transit. An officer
has not only to make all trips when on leave at his own expense, but
in those days the pay was reduced to half its full amount; and as a
lieutenant was then allowed only one hundred and thirty dollars, Mr.
Boyd received but sixty-five dollars a month. Such reduction seems to
me most unjust, for surely no one can be expected to spend a lifetime
away from all early associations, or pay so dearly for the natural
desire to occasionally see parents and friends.
We were indeed happy with the pleasure of again visiting our
relatives; but when the long, long return journey from New York to
New Mexico had to be undertaken, and we found that with the utmost
economy it would cost seven hundred dollars, which, with the limited
supply of household necessaries absolutely required, and the expenses
of Mr. Boyd’s journey East added, aggregated upwards of thirteen
hundred dollars, it was anything but a pleasant outlook for the
future. We were in debt to that amount, and must provide for its
payment.
Can any one wonder either at our dismay, or the resolve never again
to think of leave of absence? For economy we had actually buried
ourselves in the mountains during the entire winter; and although
that was no great hardship, yet it would have been very pleasant
to have enjoyed New York during the season, especially as I never
expected to come East again.
We realized the stern fact that with an income of only sixty-five
dollars a month, four people should be thankful to have the bare
necessaries of life, without expecting luxuries; but it did seem
rather hard to return without seeing more of the city than a fleeting
glimpse obtained in passing, and—because we were poor.
While in New York one of my cousins found a servant willing to return
West with us, which seemed desirable, as a nurse would be needed on
that long journey, and the amount of her traveling expenses would be
saved in the wages to be paid—those current in New York instead of
the double rate demanded on the frontier.
We congratulated ourselves on the servant’s appearance, which was so
far from pleasing it seemed safe to take her. Had it been otherwise
she would, we were sure, soon desert us for matrimony. The girl was
almost a grenadier in looks and manners; and although not absolutely
hideous, was so far from pleasing that we were confident of retaining
her services, so made a contract for one year.
Our Western journey was uneventful in comparison with others that
had preceded it. It seemed a slight undertaking to travel with
our two little children, who were so good and healthy, and I had
the assistance both of my husband and the nurse. Besides, the joy
experienced at being fairly _en route_ for our own home made me feel
like a caged bird let loose.
After four days and nights of travel from the East into the West, we
reached Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, where the children, nurse, and I
were to remain with my brother, while Mr. Boyd went to New Mexico by
stage, and returned with an ambulance for our long journey.
My heart swells when I think of those perfect days! It was in the
month of May, and we either camped out every night, or slept in some
ranch. Each moment was fraught with pleasure. Every whiff of mountain
air was inhaled with delight, for, like a Mohammedan, my face was
turned toward Mecca. I so rejoiced that our nurse, who was undergoing
the same disagreeable sensations I had experienced at the outset of
my army life in the strange surroundings, was so overpowered she
dared not express her dissatisfaction.
On arriving at Trinidad, a halt was made, for I had forgotten to
check our trunks from Denver to Kit Carson, so they did not follow.
We awaited them there for a while, but finally decided to go on.
When the trunks eventually reached us, we discovered that they had
been left standing somewhere in the rain until their contents were
saturated with water and had mildewed.
I felt badly enough over my own trunk; but the nurse wept, “refusing
to be comforted,” for all her finery was ruined. My own regrets
were silenced in listening to her lamentations, especially as I was
entirely to blame.
We did not return to Fort Stanton, Mr. Boyd’s company having been
ordered to Fort Union; so the journey, which I regarded in the light
of a picnic, from the railroad to our home, required only twelve
days. It was delightful in every respect, or would have been but for
the sour face of our nurse, “who mourned, and mourned, and mourned.”
When we reached Fort Union, and I asked if it would not be a pleasant
home for us, she looked out on the wide and desolate plain that faced
the fort, and with a weary sigh, said she “preferred New York.”
Having known the pangs of homesickness, I sympathized with her
deeply; but she kept up so continuously her wail of despair over the
discomforts of our life generally, and it became so tiresome, that
when, five months afterward, she married a soldier, I was rather glad
than otherwise, and returned with a sense of relief to the faithful
men for service.
We had soon discovered the fallacy of our belief that her plainness
would prevent the possibility of a lover. Women were so scarce,
and men so plenty, that no matter how old or ugly, a woman was not
neglected, and our unprepossessing nurse had scores of suitors for
her hand. She had not been in the fort three days before the man who
laid our carpets proposed to her. It required but little time in
which to become aware of her own value, and on learning that he was
intemperate she quickly discarded him.
The one whom she finally married was brave in every sense of the
word. Trusting to the old adage, “Faint heart ne’er won fair ladie,”
that man engaged a carriage at Las Vegas for the wedding-trip before
ever having seen her. He was a soldier belonging at Fort Union, who
had been away on distant service for months, and, hearing that we
had a girl from the East with us, made the necessary preparations
for their marriage while _en route_ to the post. His pluck must have
pleased her, for three days after his return she accompanied him to
Las Vegas, where they were united for life.
She had made my life harder in every way, and taught us the folly of
taking a servant accustomed to Eastern civilization into the Western
wilds. Not only had she scorned all our belongings and surroundings,
but absolutely wearied me with incessant complaints over the absence
of modern conveniences, which was absurd; for the climate was so
exquisite, and the houses so compact, there was really no necessity
for such fretfulness. We had clean, sweet, fresh quarters, which to
me seemed perfect.
So greatly, however, had the girl deplored the situation, that I
wondered she thought to better her condition by marrying a soldier,
who can often give his wife no shelter whatever; in fact, unless
permitted to marry by the consent of his officers, she is not allowed
to live in the garrison.
That was a hard summer in spite of my joy at our return. Mr. Boyd
had been ordered to join his troop in the field immediately after
our arrival. I had a dear little house, and with new carpets and
curtains, and the absolute freshness of all, would have been happy
enough but for the load of debt that was constantly worrying me, and
the discontent of our servant, which made her incapable to such a
degree that I had to work so hard the flesh and strength gained by my
pleasant Eastern visit greatly decreased. Before the summer was over
I had lost twenty-five pounds.
Our dear captain had taken unto himself a bride, and in accordance
with the usual army experience had been ordered away immediately on
reaching the post, where he had hoped to enjoy his wife’s society at
least for a while. But the fortunes of war are ever the same, and our
garrison was denuded of cavalry, which pursued Indians all summer.
The officers always had so many comical stories to tell on their
return, that even the bride failed to realize her husband’s danger,
and joined in the general laugh over those recitals.
One night the Indians actually invaded camp, and the officers were
obliged to fight in their night clothes, having no time even to
slip on shoes, but rushed immediately into the inclosure, that
when camping was always formed by the wagons, and within which the
animals were led. Having succeeded in driving off the Indians they
laughed immoderately at each other, and considered the whole affair a
great joke. The colonel was unusually tall, the quartermaster short
and very stout, and each must have presented a comical appearance,
fighting for dear life in such attire.
When absent on those expeditions the troop usually encamped on the
banks of some stream. On one occasion the river by which they had
camped rose—agreeably to the frequent custom of Western rivers—and
carried away everything on its banks. When it fell their huge
blacksmith’s forge was found imbedded in the opposite shore, an
eighth of a mile lower down.
The rainy season in those south-western countries is mostly confined
to a few months, either in early spring or midsummer; and as no
warning precedes its coming, sad accidents not infrequently occur.
Sometimes in the course of a few hours a tiny little stream grows
into an angry, surging torrent, so great is the downpour even in that
short time. One dear woman, an officer’s wife, who was camped with
her husband on the banks of a river apparently in full security, lost
her life from that cause.
A storm arose so suddenly, that, seeing their camp would soon be
under water, she took shelter in an ambulance, to be driven across
the stream to higher ground; but the treacherous current had grown so
swift and strong that she and their child, together with the driver
and mules, were swept away before the eyes of her husband, who stood
agonized and helpless on the shore.