We were always delighted to welcome back the troops from their
Indian reconnoitering, life was so dull without them. During their
absence the garrison would consist perhaps of only one company of
infantry, with its captain and lieutenant; and if at headquarters a
quartermaster and an adjutant, with of course a doctor, who was our
mainstay, and to whom we rushed if only a finger ached. That summer
even the band was in the field, so we had no music to cheer us.
All was, however, made up for on their return in November, when we
inaugurated a series of hops that were delightful.
The quarters at Fort Union had an unusually wide hall which was
superb for dancing, and three rooms on each side. We had only to
notify the quartermaster that a hop was to be given, when our barren
hallway would immediately be transferred into a beautiful ballroom,
with canvas stretched tightly over the floor, flags decorating the
sides, and ceiling so charmingly draped as to make us feel doubly
patriotic.
Many ladies greatly dislike Fort Union. It has always been noted
for severe dust-storms. Situated on a barren plain, the nearest
mountains, and those not very high, three miles distant, it has the
most exposed position of any military fort in New Mexico.
The soil is composed of the finest and, seemingly, lightest brown
sand, which when the wind blows banks itself to a prodigious height
against any convenient object. The most exposed place was between two
sets of quarters, which were some distance apart. The wind would blow
from a certain direction one day, and completely bank the side of one
house; the next it would shift, when the sand would be found lying
against the other.
The hope of having any trees, or even a grassy parade ground, had
been abandoned long before our residence there; for either the
grass-seed would be scattered by the wind, or the grass actually
uprooted and blown away after it had grown.
In 1886, when I again visited Fort Union, it seemed indeed a
cheerless place on account of the lack of verdure. The cause is
simply want of shelter; for with the ample water-works which have
been built since we lived there, much could be done if it were in a
less exposed position.
Those sand-banks were famous playgrounds for the children. One
little girl, whose mother was constantly upbraiding her for lack of
neatness, contrasting her with our little daughter who was almost
painfully tidy, determining to be avenged, coaxed my child near a
large sand-pile and threw her down on it, saying, as she again and
again poured the dirt over her:
“There, now! I am glad to see you as dirty as I am!”
Every eye is said to form its own beauty. Mine was disposed to see
much in Fort Union, for I had a home there.
When my husband returned from his long scout we rode horseback daily.
Our objective point was always the mountains, where trees and green
grass were to be found in abundance. One day when in the Turkey
mountains, about three miles from home, we saw two very ugly-visaged
men approaching. Some instinct, or kind Providence, warned Mr. Boyd
to keep a watchful eye on them, so he deliberately turned in the
saddle, and placing one hand on a pistol to show that he was armed,
watched them out of sight. One of the men, who turned back and looked
at us, also rested a hand on his hip where the pistol is carried.
Observing that we were intently watching their movements, they rode
on, leaving us unmolested.
On our return we were greeted with the tale of a horrible murder
that had been committed on the very outskirts of the post. A soldier
messenger, who for ten years had carried the mail between Fort Union
and the arsenal, a mile distant, had been shot within fifteen
hundred yards of the garrison, and fallen lifeless by the roadside.
His horse, instead of being captured by the murderers as they had
hoped, galloped wildly toward the arsenal, and thus raised an alarm.
The murderers were actually in sight when the poor man’s body was
found, still warm, but with life extinct.
A pursuing party was organized without loss of time, and on that
open, level plain the wretches were almost immediately captured and
placed in the guard-house. Mr. Boyd at once visited them, and found,
as he expected, that they were the same men whom we had met in the
mountains only a few hours previously. They would not, of course,
reply to his query why they did not kill us for the sake of the fine
horses we rode. He felt certain the murderers would be dealt with
as summarily, and told them so, as had been the poor messenger whom
they so foully murdered, and whose family was then suffering the most
poignant sorrow.
Late that evening the civil authorities demanded the prisoners. Their
only safety lay in the commanding officer refusing the request; but
claiming that he had no authority for so doing, they were delivered
to the sheriff, though begging and pleading to be permitted to remain
in the guard-house. The men dreaded lynch law, but saw no mercy in
the faces of their jailers.
After proceeding a short distance from the garrison, their escort
increased in numbers until soon an immense crowd surrounded them. Not
a sound was heard until the very verge of the military reservation
had been reached, yet a more resolute and relentless body of men
never marched together.
The very moment the last foot of military ground had been passed the
sheriff was overpowered, evidently with no very great reluctance; and
the crowd, producing coils of rope, quickly proceeded to hang the
prisoners to telegraph-poles, where their bodies dangled for days, a
warning to all horse-thieves and murderers.
For a time my rides were spoiled; but soon I grew brave again, though
we were always thereafter careful to be thoroughly well armed on
leaving home.
I might multiply accounts of our experiences at various garrisons,
but it would take too long. In a monotonous life days slip away
almost unconsciously, and one is surprised to find how quickly time
has flown. Looking back, it seems incredibly short, because there
were no important events to mark its progress.
We were so happily situated that I hoped to remain at Fort Union, but
as usual springtime saw us on the wing. It was undoubtedly a high
compliment to my husband that he should always have been chosen as an
administrative officer. It not only proved Mr. Boyd’s ability, but
was a testimony to his honesty, and thus a complete refutation of the
charges made against him at West Point. It was also a special honor
to be singled out from among so many men by the general in command
at distant headquarters; but an inconvenience, particularly when we
were at a very desirable post or station, to be ordered to a most
uncomfortable one. Fort Union seemed far enough from the railroad,
especially as our year East had made us anxious to be as near
civilization as possible.
We were looking forward to a long stay at our pleasant post, when an
unexpected order came for Mr. Boyd to proceed immediately to Fort
Bayard, and build the officers’ quarters needed there. He kept the
news from me during the day of its arrival, because I was deeply
engrossed in preparations for a hop to be given at our house that
evening, and he did not wish to spoil my pleasure.
The entire day had been spent in decorating the hall and preparing
supper. Unfortunately the first guest who arrived effectually
dampened my spirits by sympathetically exclaiming:
“Isn’t it too bad you have to leave here?”
I was too unhappy to enjoy a single moment of the festivities which
followed; but the arrival of the entire garrison, who danced and
otherwise greatly enjoyed themselves, left in my mind a picture of
pleasant army gayety surpassed by none.
As usual I packed our household belongings with a heavy heart. That
move was decidedly for the worse; and even if the journey, with its
attendant fatigue and expense, had not been dreaded, I would have
disliked going to a place so much farther from the railroad, and
where so little could be expected in the way of comfort.
Fort Bayard, six hundred miles south-west of Fort Union, and a
few miles distant from Arizona, was considered a most undesirable
locality, both on account of its remoteness, and because no houses
had then been built for the officers’ use. It required eighteen days
to reach our destination by ambulance, traveling about thirty-five
miles each day.
After leaving Fort Union we went directly to Santa Fé, and saw that
quaint old Mexican town, then across to Albuquerque, down by the
borders of the Rio Grande to Fort Selden, and from there by ascending
grades to Fort Bayard, which was in the more mountainous region.
The journey was like all others in which ambulances were used as
conveyances—tiresome and monotonous in the extreme, but in my case
always either modified or intensified by the gladness or reluctance
experienced in regard to our destination. In that case I was heartily
sorry for the move. We had been only nine months at Fort Union; my
baby was at a troublesome age and needed constant care, and for
the first time I was without a nurse of any sort. Besides, it was
mid-winter, and unusual care must be exercised to keep the children
warm when camping out, which we were compelled to do a part of the
time. The season was, however, too cold to permit of that when it
could be avoided, so we occupied Mexican houses almost every night.
The houses were very warm and comfortable, but oddly arranged
according to American ideas. In place of windows there were merely
openings for air, tightly closed or covered by solid wooden shutters
at night. Several beds were ranged about the walls of each long,
oddly shaped room, which except for a primitive wash-stand contained
no other furniture. There was, however, always an open fireplace and
a cheerful blaze of mesquite roots, which emitted much heat, and a
curious odor that one never forgets.
The food was always enjoyed, for after long, open-air rides no one
is ever very fastidious. Mexican cooking is not usually relished by
those unaccustomed to it, because always highly flavored with garlic,
much soaked in grease, and almost everything deluged with red pepper,
without a lavish use of which no Mexican can prepare a single dish.
The most primitive mode of grinding corn—by hand between two
stones—was then still in vogue; and the tortillas made from meal
thus obtained, simply mixed with water and baked, were not only
very sweet, but strange to say also light, probably because of the
manipulation by skilled hands. They reminded me of the delicious
beaten biscuits prepared in the South, which are never fit to be
eaten anywhere else.
The Rio Grande again became our constant companion, and we drove
for days within sight of its banks. How I envied the Mexicans who
were able to spend their lives on its sunny shores. Volumes could be
written about those peculiar people, with their almost deathlike calm
of manner, seldom, under any circumstances, varied; though sometimes
the fact is betrayed that volcanic fires slumber beneath, to be fully
roused and find vent only when their deepest emotions are stirred.
When living among them one feels the necessity of absorbing some of
their traits, which are indeed needed in a country where progress is
unknown, and where the customs of centuries past still remain, not as
traditions but as facts. They were always kind and gentle, and such
devoted admirers of our fairer race as to make most admirable nurses
for the children, except for their over indulgence.
The towns of Mesilla and Las Cruçes are as characteristic in their
way as any of old Spain, and quite as interesting. We passed through
both _en route_ to Bayard, and my pen would fain linger over their
many peculiarities. Several days elapsed after leaving the Rio Grande
before our arrival at Fort Bayard in New Mexico, where we prepared
to begin afresh the old story of life in a new garrison. Baby had
climbed over me until I was glad to rest on terra firma again.