His journey from Fort Yuma to Camp McDowell was full of interest and was greatly enjoyed. He had for companions two brother officers and three ladies; traveled by ambulance, making marches of only about fifteen miles; camped out every night, Lockwood himself sleeping on the ground outside. As the country was very desolate and barren, they traveled generally along the valley of the Gila, but their last march was over desert land forty-five miles wide. They saw many relics along the route, mounds, ruins, and immense ditches for irrigation. One immense pile of rocks, called the Painted Rocks, was entirely covered with pictures of lizards, Indians, beasts, and birds—supposed to represent a great battle in which the Apaches conquered the Maricopas. There were also along the road graves of men murdered by the Indians. One grave, near Gila Bend, was of a man named Lumley, a station-keeper, murdered by two Mexicans—his successor exhibited a knife, used by one of the murderers, which had been found, and he pointed out the spot where Judge Lynch had disposed of the only criminal that happened to be captured. While the travelers did not spend any money at hotels, they were obliged to pay from twenty to thirty dollars for being ferried across the Gila and Salt Rivers at different points.
In one of his letters, written to his sister after the rainy season, and soon after his arrival at Camp McDowell, young Lockwood says: “I wish you could see the pretty flowers around here; they are principally yellow and red, and each kind grows by itself. They grow so close together that the ground is covered as with a carpet. To the west of this post there is a wide plain covered with these flowers. There is also a species of cactus called the Suwarrow, which grows fifteen or twenty feet high—a sort of tree without branches, but covered with thorns; the outside of this tree is of a green color and nearly as soft as young asparagus, but inside it has a frame of wood. These are all over the plain, in fact all over Arizona. I often walk out here after dinner with a large dog that belongs to one of the officers, and start up the rabbits—great big Jack-rabbits, as they are called—as large as a small dog. They can run very fast, faster than any dog except a hound. Among other curiosities about here are rattlesnakes and lizards—the lizards as common as flies; also crows as big as hens and almost as tame. The post is entirely surrounded by mountains.” By way of contrast to this pleasing prospect, in another letter he gives the particulars of the murder of two men by the Indians within twelve miles of the garrison, their bodies having been fearfully mutilated. “I am still in the land of the finite and material,” he writes, “and the Apaches have not yet disturbed the arrangement of my back hair; in short, I am alive and kicking.”
On the 14th of May, Lockwood writes that “there has been nothing new at the post except the arrival of Lieutenant Schuyler, Fifth Cavalry. He has been out on a scout for several months past, dropping in at various posts now and then. He reports that he came upon the Apaches southeast of here, killed twelve and took fourteen prisoners. He is accompanied by Dr. Corbasier and a party of thirty-one soldiers and eighty-one Indian scouts. These scouts are composed of Apache-Mojave, Tonto-Apaches, and other tribes, closely allied to the Apaches proper. It seems strange that they are thus willing to join the enemy in exterminating their brethren; but such is their nature. They are hardly superior to the beasts, except in shape, and even there the line of demarkation is not very distinct. The Pimos, to the number of one hundred or more, were here about a week ago, on their way to punish the Apaches for stealing some stock from them. When they returned, they reported the killing of quite a number of their foes—some sixteen or more—and taking many prisoners. Schuyler’s party confirm the report; they came across the camp of the Apaches, and the doctor said he counted a large number of slain. The Pimos surprised the Apaches when asleep and almost exterminated them. They were armed with war-clubs, and of course mangled their bodies horribly. When found their heads were all beaten in, and their bodies stuck full of arrows and partially burned. The doctor says it was the most sickening sight he ever beheld. The Apache bands, off their reservations, are fast becoming exterminated, over a thousand having been killed during the last winter. General Crook will not allow them to return to their reservations unless they bring the heads of several of the ringleaders in the late outbreak.”
In another place, after alluding to the extravagant accounts published about Arizona, he says: “One would suppose, from reading the pamphlet I send you, that Arizona is a fine agricultural country—which is absurd; and that it contains many flourishing cities and towns, whereas even the river-bottoms require irrigation, and the ‘cities’ are merely the nuclei of towns.”
On one occasion, after alluding to his enjoyment of the newspapers sent him from home, and to the early transfer of his regiment, he says: “It would probably have been removed this spring but for the financial panic and other commercial disasters. I suppose if the rest of the year goes by prosperously, and nothing occurs to prolong the gingerly, penny-wise, pound-foolish policy of Congress called economy (?), that the Twenty-third will probably be removed next spring or fall.” And again, he continues: “Grant appears to have obtained great credit by his veto of the Inflation Bill. How Congress could pass a bill which seems to be unacceptable and repugnant to the whole people, I can not understand.”
Alluding a second time to the pleasing characteristics of frontier life, he tells his father that “a party of Indian scouts arrived here yesterday from Schuyler’s command. They brought the news that the lieutenant had jumped the Indians at Four Peaks—a high mountain, forty miles off—killed eighteen and captured six. The party brought in a wounded scout, shot through the head, who is now in the hospital. He was the only one wounded in the fight, or rather slaughter, for these Indians rarely fight a party of any size. I suppose these Arizona tribes are the most degraded, cowardly, and despicable savages in the country. Schuyler, as I understand, generally sweeps a breadth of country fifty miles across, by means of flanking-parties on the right and left, and has been quite successful.”
In speaking of his duties at the post, he says: “I am officer-of-the-day every other day; I mount the guard every morning, attend all roll-calls, accompany the captain in his inspection of quarters every morning, and afterward recite tactics. I also am present with him at company-drill every evening, command the company at Sunday morning inspection, sit on boards of survey and perform other irregular duties.”
After announcing the arrival of the paymaster at the post, and alluding to expenses, he says: “Servants in this country are paid enormously. The post-trader pays his Chinese cook thirty dollars per month, and has paid as high as one hundred dollars. Officers in Arizona are compelled from necessity to employ soldiers in this capacity, though contrary to the regulations.”
In one of his letters, Lieutenant Lockwood gives his opinion about some of his father’s landed property, and then goes on after this fashion: “The old farm has additional charms for me now, after living in Arizona, and I have come to think that there are many worse places. Does distance lend enchantment to the view? or what is it? I often long after some of the delicious peaches and other fruit that the much-abused farm produces in such abundance. However, if you can dispose of the farm as you suggest, it will, no doubt, be for the best, as the Lockwood family have become so high-toned that I am afraid they will never stoop (?) to live on a farm and become grangers.”
In one of his letters written about this date, he makes the following remark respecting his education at Annapolis: “I don’t think I care about being present at the meeting of the alumni of my Alma Mater, or, what she would be more pleased with, contributing anything in the way of money. Enough has been thrown away in teaching me what has never been of any use. However, the old woman has my good wishes.”