Tenting on the Plains Part 12

SOON after my husband returned from Washington, he found that Ristori was advertised in St. Louis, and as he had been delighted with her acting when in the East, he insisted upon my going there, though it was a journey of several hundred miles. The young officers urged, and the pretty Diana looked volumes of entreaty at me, so at last I consented to go, as we need be absent but a few days. At that time the dreaded campaign looked far off, and I was trying to cheat myself into the belief that there might possibly be none at all.

Ristori, heard under any circ.u.mstances, was an event in a life; but to listen to her as we did, the only treat of the kind in our winter, and feeling almost certain it was the last of such privileges for years to come, was an occasion never to be forgotten.

I do not know whether Diana collected her senses enough to know, at any one time, that she was listening to the most gifted woman in histrionic art. A civilian lover had appeared on the scene, and between our young officers, already far advanced in the dazed and enraptured state, and the new addition to her retinue, she was never many moments without "airy nothings" poured into her ear. The citizen and the officers glowered on each other, and sought in vain to monopolize the inamorata.

Even when the thoughtless girl put a military cap on the head of a civilian, and told him that an improvement in his appearance was instantly visible, he still remained, and held his ground valiantly.

Finally the most desperate of them called me to one side, and implored my championship. He complained bitterly that he never began to say what trembled on his tongue but one of those interfering fellows appeared and interrupted him, and now, as the time was pa.s.sing, there remained but one chance before he went home, where he would again be among a dozen other men who were sure to get in his way. He said he had thought over every plan, and if I would engage the interfering ones for a half hour, he would take Diana to the hotel cupola, ostensibly to see the view, and if, after they were up there, she saw anything but him, it would not be his fault; for say his say he must. No one could resist such a piteous appeal, so I engaged the supernumerary men in conversation as best I could, talking against time and eyeing the door as anxiously as they did. I knew, when the pair returned, that the pent-up avowal had found utterance; but the coquetting la.s.s had left him in such a state of uncertainty that even "fleeing to the house-top" had not secured his future. So it went on, suspense and agitation increasing in the perturbed hearts, but the dallying of this coy and skillful strategist, wise beyond her years in some ways, seemed to prove that she believed what is often said, that a man is more blissful in uncertainty than in possession.

Our table was rarely without guests at that time. A great many of the strangers came with letters of introduction to us, and the General superintended the arrangements for buffalo-hunts, if they were to be in the vicinity of our post. Among the distinguished visitors was Prince Ourosoff, nephew of the Emperor of Russia. He was but a lad, and only knew that if he came west far enough, he was very likely to find what the atlas put down as the "Great American Desert." None of us could tell him much more of the Sahara of America than of his own steppes in Russia. As the years have advanced, the maps have shifted that imaginary desert from side to side. The pioneer does such wonders in cultivating what was then supposed to be a barren waste, that we bid fair in time not to have any Sahara at all. I hardly wonder now at the surprise this royal scion expressed at finding himself among men and women who kept up the amenities of refined life, even when living in that subterranean home which our Government provided for its defenders--the dug-out. It seems strange enough, that those of us who lived the rough life of Kansas's early days, did not entirely adopt the careless, unconventional existence of the pioneer, but military discipline is something not easily set aside.

Almost our first excursionists were such a success that we wished they might be duplicated in those who flocked out there in after years.

Several of the party were old travelers, willing to undergo hardships and encounter dangers to see the country before it was overrun with tourists. They were our guests, and the manner in which they beguiled our time made their departure a real regret. They called themselves "Gideon's Band." The youngest of the party, a McCook, from the fighting Ohio family, was "Old Gid," while the oldest of all answered when they called "Young Gid." As they were witty, clever, conversant by actual experience with most things that we only read of in the papers, we found them a G.o.dsend.

When such people thanked us for what simple hospitality we could offer, it almost came as a surprise, for we felt ourselves their debtors. After having written to this point in my narrative of our gay visit from Gideon's Band, a letter in response to one that I had sent to Mr.

Charles G. Leland arrived from London. I asked him about his poem, and after twenty years, in which we never saw him, he recalls with enthusiasm his short stay with us. I have only eliminated some descriptions that he gives in the extract of the private letter sent then from Fort Riley--descriptions of the wife of the commanding officer and the pretty Diana. Women being in the minority, it was natural that we were never undervalued. Grateful as I am that he should so highly appreciate officers' wives, and much as I prize what he says regarding "the influences that made a man, and kept him what he was," I must reserve for Mr. Leland's correspondent of twenty years back, and for myself, his opinion of frontier women.

"LANGHAM HOTEL, PORTLAND PLACE, "LONDON, W., June 14, 1887.

"DEAR MRS. CUSTER:--It is a thousand times more likely that you should forget me than that I should ever forget you, though it were at an interval of twice twenty years; the more so since I have read your admirable book, which has revived in me the memory of one of the strangest incidents and some of the most agreeable impressions of a somewhat varied and eventful life. I was with a party of gentlemen who had gone out to what was then the most advanced surveyor's camp for the Pacific Railway, in western Kansas. On returning, we found ourselves one evening about a mile from Fort Riley, where we were to be the guests of yourself and your husband. We had been all day in a so-called ambulance or wagon. The one that I shared with my friend, J. R. G. Ha.s.sard, of the New York _Tribune_, was driven by a very intelligent and amusing frontiersman, deeply experienced in Indian and Mexican life, named Brigham. Brigham thought, by mistake, that we had all gone to Fort Riley by some other conveyance, and he was thirty or forty yards in advance, driving on rapidly. We, enc.u.mbered with blankets, packs and arms, had no mind to walk when we could 'wagon.' One man whistled, and all roared aloud.

Then one discharged his rifle. But the wind was blowing away from Brigham towards us, and he heard nothing. The devil put an idea in my head, for which I have had many a regret since then. _Infandum regina jubes renovare dolorem._ ('Thou, my queen, dost command me to revive a wretched sorrow.') For it occurred that I could send a rifle-ball so near to Brigham's head that he could hear the whistle, and that this would very naturally cause him to stop. If I could only know all, I would sooner have aimed between my own eyes.

"'Give me a gun,' I said to Colonel Lambourn.

"'You won't shoot at him!' said the Colonel.

"'If you'll insure the mules,' I replied, 'I will insure the driver.'

"I took aim and fired. The ambulance was covered, and I did not know that Mr. Ha.s.sard, the best fellow in the world--_nemini secundus_--was sitting inside and talking to Brigham. The bullet pa.s.sed between their faces, which were a foot apart--less rather than more.

"'What is that?' cried Ha.s.sard.

"'_Injuns!_' replied Brigham, who knew by many an experience how wagons were Apached, Comanchied, or otherwise aboriginated.

"'Lay down flat!'

"He drove desperately till he thought he was out of shot, and then put out his head to give the Indians a taunting war-whoop. I shall never forget the appearance of that sunburned face, with gold ear-rings and a vast sombrero! What was his amazement at seeing only friends! I did not know what Brigham's state of mind might be toward me, but I remembered that he gloried in his familiarity with Spanish, so I said to him in the Castile-soap dialect, 'I fired that shot; is it to be hand or knife between us?' It is to his credit that he at once shook my hand, and said, '_La mano!_' He drove on in grim silence, and then said, 'I've driven for twelve years on this frontier, but I never heard, before, of anybody trying to stop one by shooting the driver.'

"Another silence, broken by the following remark: 'I wish to G.o.d there was a gulch any where between here and the fort! I'd upset this party into it d----n quick.'

"But I had a great fear. It was of General Custer and what he would have to say to me, for recklessly imperiling the life of one of his drivers, to say nothing of what might have happened to a valuable team of mules and the wagon. It was with perturbed feelings--and, _ay de mi!_ with an evil conscience--that I approached him. He had been informed of the incident, but was neither angry nor vindictive. All he did was to utter a hearty laugh and say, 'I never heard before of such an original way of ringing a bell to call a man.'

"In a letter written about this time to a friend, I find the following:

"'We had not for many days seen a lady. Indeed, the only woman I had met for more than a week was a poor, sad soul, who, with her two child-daughters, had just been brought in by Lieutenant Hesselberger from a six-months' captivity of outrage and torture among the Apaches. You may imagine how I was impressed with Mrs.

General Custer and her friend, Miss ----... .

"'General Custer is an ideal--the ideal of frank chivalry, unaffected, genial humor, and that earnestness allied to originality which is so characteristic of the best kind of Western army man. I have not, in all my life, met with so many interesting types of character, as during this, my first journey to Kansas, but first among all, I place this trio.

"'In the evening a great musical treat awaited me. I had once pa.s.sed six months in Bavaria, where I had learned to love the zither. This instrument was about as well known twenty years ago in America, as a harp of a thousand strings. But there was at the fort a Bavarian soldier, who played charmingly on it, and he was brought in. I remember asking him for many of his best-loved airs. The General and his wife impressed me as two of the best entertainers of guests whom I ever met. The perfection of this rare talent is, to enjoy yourself while making others at their ease and merry, and the proof lies in this, that seldom, indeed, have I ever spent so pleasant an evening as that in the fort.'

"My personal experience of General Custer does not abound in anecdotes, but is extremely rich in my impressions of him, as a type and a character, both as man and gentleman. There is many a man whom I have met a thousand times, whom I hardly recollect at all, while I could never forget him. He was not only an admirable but an impressive man. One would credit anything to his credit, because he was so frank and earnest. One meets with a somewhat similar character sometimes among the Hungarians, but just such a man is as rare as the want of them in the world is great.

"With sincere regards, yours truly, "CHARLES G. LELAND."

As Mr. Leland's poem, "Breitmann in Kansas," was inspired partly by the buffalo-hunt and visit at our quarters, I quote a few stanzas:[G]

"Vonce oopen a dimes, der Herr Breitmann vent oud West. Von efenings he was drafel mit some ladies und shendlemans, und he shtaid incognitus. Und dey singed songs dill py and py one of de ladies say: 'Ish any podies here ash know de crate pallad of "Hans Breitmann's Barty?"' Den Hans said, 'I am dat rooster!' Den der Hans took a drink und a let pencil und a biece of baper, und goes indo himself a little dimes, and den coomes out again mit dis boem:

"Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas; He drafel fast und far.

He rided shoost drei dousand miles All in one railroot car.

He knowed foost rate how far he goed-- He gounted all de vile.

Dar vash shoost one bottle of champagne, Dat bopped at efery mile.

"Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas; He went in on de loud.

At Ellsvort in de prairie land, He found a pully croud.

He looked for bleeding Kansas, But dat's 'blayed out,' dey say; De whiskey keg's de only dings Dat's bleedin' dere to-day.

"Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas; Py shings! I dell you vot, Von day he met a crisly bear Dat rooshed him down, bei Gott!

Boot der Breitmann took und bind der bear, Und bleased him fery much-- For efry vordt der crisly growled Vas goot Bavarian Dutch!

"Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas!

By donder, dat is so!

He ridit out upon de plains To chase de boofalo.

He fired his rifle at de bools, Und gallop troo de shmoke Und shoomp de canyons shoost as if Der tyfel vas a choke!"

Not only were a large number of officers brought together that winter from varied walks in life and of different nationalities, but the men that enlisted ranged from the highest type of soldier to the lowest specimens of humanity recruited in the crowded cities. It often happened that enlisted men had served an honorable record as officers in the volunteer service. Some had entered the regular army because their life was broken up by the war and they knew not how to begin a new career; others had hopes of promotion, on the strength of their war record, or from the promises of influential friends. My heart is moved anew as I recall one man, who sank his name and individuality, his very self, it seemed, by enlistment, and as effectually disappeared as if he had flung himself into the river that rushed by our post. One night there knocked at the door of one of our officer's quarters a man who, though in citizen's dress, was at once recognized as an old comrade in the war. He had been a brigadier-general of volunteers. After he had been made welcome, he gave some slight account of himself, and then said he had about made up his mind to enlist. Our Seventh Cavalry officer implored him not to think of such a thing, pictured the existence of a man of education and refinement in such surroundings, and offered him financial help, should that be needed. He finally found the subject was adroitly withdrawn, and the conversation went back to old times. They talked on in this friendly manner until midnight, and then parted. The next day a soldier in fresh, bright blue uniform, pa.s.sed the officer, formally saluting as he went by, and to his consternation he discovered in this enlisted man his friend of the night before. They never met again; the good-by of the midnight hour was in reality the farewell that one of them had intended it to be.

This is but one of many instances where superior men, for one reason or another, get into the ranks of our army. If they are fortunate enough to fall into the hands of considerate officers, their lot is endurable; but to be a.s.signed to one who is unjust and overbearing is a miserable existence. One of our finest men was so constantly looking, in his soldiers, for the same qualities that he possessed, and insisted so upon the superiority of his men that the officers were wont to exclaim in good-natured irony, "Oh, yes, we all know that Hamilton's company is made up of dukes and earls in disguise."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GUN-STAND IN GENERAL CUSTER'S LIBRARY.]

There were some clever rogues among the enlisted men, and the officers were as yet scarcely able to cope with the cunning of those who doubtless had intimate acquaintance with courts of justice and prisons in the Eastern States. The recruiting officer in the cities is not compelled, as in other occupations, to ask a character from a former employer. The Government demands able-bodied men, and the recruiting sergeant casts his critical eye over the anatomical outlines, as he would over the good points of a horse destined for the same service. The awful hereafter is, when the officer that receives this physical perfection on the frontier aims to discover whether it contains a soul.

Our guard-house at Fort Riley was outside the garrison a short distance, and held a goodly number of violators of the regulations. For several nights, at one time, strange sounds for such a place issued from the walls. Religion in the noisiest form seemed to have taken up its permanent abode there, and for three hours at a time singing, shouting and loud praying went on. There was every appearance of a revival among those trespa.s.sers. The officer of the day, in making his rounds, had no comment to pa.s.s upon this remarkable transition from card-playing and wrangling; he was doubtless relieved to hear the voice of the exhorters as he visited the guard, and indulged in the belief that the prisoners were out of mischief. On the contrary, this vehement attack of religion covered up the worst sort of roguery. Night after night they had been digging tunnels under the stone foundation-walls, removing boards and cutting beams in the floor, and to deaden the sound of the pounding and digging some of their number were told off to sing, pray and shout. One morning the guard opened the door of the rooms in which the prisoners had been confined, and they were empty! Even two that wore ball and chains for serious offences had in some manner managed to knock them off, as all had swum the Smoky Hill River, and they were never again heard from.

As with the history of all prisons, so it was of our little one. The greatest rogues were not incarcerated; they were too cunning to be caught. It often happened that some excellent soldiers became innocently involved in a fracas and were marched off to the guard-house, while the archvillain slipped into his place in the ranks and answered to his name at roll-call, apparently the most exemplary of soldiers. Several instances of what I thought to be unjust imprisonment came directly under my notice, and I may have been greatly influenced by Eliza's pleas in their behalf. We made the effort, and succeeded in extricating one man from his imprisonment. Whether he was in reality wronged, or had only worked upon our sympathies, will never be known, but he certainly made an excellent soldier from that time until the end of his enlistment. Eliza, in her own quaint way, is saying to me now: "Do you mind, Miss Libbie, how me and you got J---- his parole? He used to come to our house with the rest of the prisoners, to police the yard and cut the wood, and they used to hang round my door; the guard could hardly get 'em away. Well, I reckon he didn't try very hard, for he didn't like hard-tack no better than they did. One of them would speak up the minute they saw me, and say, 'Eliza, you hain't got no hot biscuit, have you?'

Hot biscuits for prisoners! do you hear _that_, Miss Libbie? The Ginnel would be standin' at the back window, just to catch a chance to laugh at me if I gave the prisoners anythin' to eat. He'd stand at that window, movin' from one foot to the other, craning of his neck, and when I did give any cold sc.r.a.ps, he just bided his time, and when he saw me he would say, 'Well, been issuin' your rations again, Eliza? How many apple-dumplin's and biscuit did they get this time?' Apple-dumplin's, Miss Libbie! He jest said that 'cause he liked 'em better than anythin'

else, and s'posed I'd been givin' away some of his. But as soon as he had teased me about it, that was the end; he would go along about his way and pick up his book, when he had done his laugh. But, Miss Libbie, he used to kinder mistrust, if me and you was talkin' one side. He would say, 'What you two conspirin' up now? Tryin' to get some one out of jail, I s'pose.' I remember how we worked for J----. He came to me and told me I must 'try to get Mrs. Custer to work for him; two words from her would do him more good than all the rest,' and he would come along sideways by your window, carrying his ball over his arm with the chain adanglin', and look so pitiful like, so you would see him and beg him off." This affair ended entirely to Eliza's satisfaction. I saw the captain of his company; for though it was against my husband's wish that I should have anything to do with official matters, he did not object to this intervention; he only laughed at my credulity. The captain politely heard my statement of what Eliza had told me were J----'s wrongs, and gave him parole. His sentence was rescinded eventually, as he kept his promises and was a most faithful soldier. The next morning after J---- was returned to duty and began life anew, one of the young officers sauntered into our quarters and, waving his hand with a little flourish, said, "I want to congratulate you on having obtained the pardon of the greatest scamp in the regiment; he wouldn't steal a red-hot stove, but would wait a mighty long time for it to cool." Later in my story is my husband's mention, in his letters, of the very man as bearing so good a record that he sent for him and had him detailed at headquarters, for nothing in the world, he confessed, but because I had once interceded for him.

Eliza kept my sympathies constantly aroused, with her piteous tales of the wrongs of the prisoners. They daily had her ear, and she appointed herself judge, jury and attorney for the defense. On the coldest days, when we could not ride and the wind blew so furiously that we were not able to walk, I saw from our windows how poorly clad they were, for they came daily, under the care of the guard, to cut the wood and fill the water-barrels. The General quietly endured the expressions of sympathy, and sometimes my indignant protests against unjust treatment. He knew the wrathful spirit of the kitchen had obeyed the natural law that heat must rise, and treated our combined rages over the prisoners' wrongs with aggravating calmness. Knowing more about the guard-house occupants than I did, he was fortified by facts that saved him from expending his sympathies in the wrong direction. He only smiled at the plausible stories by which Eliza was first taken in at the kitchen door. They lost nothing by transmission, as she had quite an imagination and decidedly a dramatic delivery; and finally, when I told the tale, trying to perform the monstrously hard feat of telling it as it was told to me, youth, inexperience and an emotional temperament made a narrative so absolutely distressing that the General was likely to come over bodily to our side, had he not recalled the details of the court-martial that had tried the soldier. We were routed, yet not completely, for we fell back upon his clothes, and pleaded that, though he was thought to be wicked, he might be permitted to be warm. But the colored and white troops had to leave the field, "horse, foot and dragoons," when, on investigation, we found that the man for whom we pleaded had gambled away his very shirt.

The unmoved manner in which my husband listened to different accounts of supposed cruelty--dropping his beloved newspaper with the injured air that men a.s.sume, while I sat by him, half crying, gesticulating, thoroughly roused in my defense of the injured one--was exasperating, to say the least; and then, at last, to have this bubble of a.s.sumed championship burst, and see him launch into such uproarious conduct when he found that the man for whom I pleaded was the archrogue of all--oh, women alone can picture to themselves what the situation must have been to poor me!

After one of these seasons of good-natured scoffing over the frequency with which I was taken in, I mentally resolved that, though the proof I heard of the soldier's depravity was too strong for me to ignore, there was no contesting the fact that the criminal was cold, and if I had failed in freeing him I might at least provide against his freezing. He was at that time b.u.t.toning a ragged blouse up to his chin, not only for warmth, but because in his evening game of poker, his comrade had won the undergarment, quite superfluous, he thought, while warmed by the guard-house fire. I proceeded to shut myself in our room, and go through the General's trunk for something warm. The selection that I made was unfortunate. There were some navy shirts of blue flannel that had been procured with considerable trouble from a gunboat in the James River the last year of the war, the like of which, in quality and durability, could not be found in any shop. The material was so good that they neither shrunk nor pulled out of shape. The broad collar had a star embroidered in solid silk in either corner. The General had bought these for their durability, but they proved to be a picturesque addition to his gay dress; and the red necktie adopted by his entire Third Division of Cavalry gave a dash of vivid color, while the yellow hair contrasted with the dark blue of the flannel. The gunboats were overwhelmed with applications to buy, as his Division wished to adopt this feature of his dress also, and military tailors had many orders to reproduce what the General had "lighted upon," as the officers expressed it, by accident.

Really, there was no color so good for campaigning, as it was hard to harmonize any gray tint with the different blues of the uniform. Men have a way of saying that we women never seize their things, for barter or other malevolent purposes, without selecting what they especially prize. But the General really had reason to dote upon these shirts.

The rest of the story scarcely needs telling. Many injured husbands, whose wardrobes have been confiscated for eleemosynary purposes, will join in a general wail. The men that wear one overcoat in early spring, and carry another over their arm to their offices, uncertain, if they did not observe this precaution, that the coming winter would not find these garments mysteriously metamorphosed into lace on a gown, or mantel ornaments, may fill in all that my story fails to tell. In the General's case, it was perhaps more than ordinarily exasperating. It was not that a creature who bargains for "gentlemen's cast-offs" had possession of something that a tailor could not readily replace, but we were then too far out on the Plains to buy even ordinary blue flannel.

As I remember myself half buried in the trunk of the commanding officer, and suddenly lifted into the air with a shirt in one hand, my own escape from the guard-house seems miraculous. As it was, I was let off very lightly, ignoring some remarks about its being "a pretty high-handed state of affairs, that compels a man to lock his trunk in his own family; and that, between Tom's pilfering and his wife's, the commanding officer would soon be obliged to receive official reports in bed."