The life at the Omaha garrison, during the summer of 1875, was comfortable but monotonous. The faithfulness with which the young officer corresponded with his parents is eminently characteristic of a dutiful son. When not writing about his surroundings and daily duties, or sketching the character of his associates, he ventured to discuss business matters with his father, frequently volunteering a bit of advice. He often alluded to the Annapolis farm and to people and events connected with Georgetown, now a part of Washington City, where he expected the family to remain permanently. On every subject discussed, he manifested a clear head, and enlivened his more serious talk with an occasional joke, for which he seemed to have a fondness. In expressing his opinions on men and things, it seemed impossible for him to hesitate or equivocate; he always went directly to the point, and, though charitable, he could not refrain from looking out for the demands of justice, as, for example, when alluding to the death of a man who had been untrue to himself and friends, he said “to die was about the best thing he could do.” As to his jokes, they were not confined to his private letters, as will be shown by one of them practiced upon the post trader during a dull period in the garrison. The trader in question, a young fellow, had removed the balls from the pistol of one of his clerks, with the intention of playing a ghostly trick upon him that night. He told Lockwood and another friend of his intention, and they determined to turn the tables upon the trader. They notified the clerk, and at midnight the amateur ghost rose from his bed, enveloped himself in a white sheet, and stole softly into the room of the unsuspecting clerk. Just then an improvised noise was made outside the door, when the clerk seemingly awoke with an exclamation of terror at seeing the ghost. The report of the pistol was duly followed by the return of the ball held in hand, à la ghost, but immediately after, the poor ghost found himself completely drenched with a bucket of water, which had been coolly set aside for that purpose. At this unexpected turn of affairs, the trader fled in the greatest consternation, leaving his “trade-mark” behind, and, as he passed out of the door, received a second pail of water from one of his ghostly companions. The result was that it took a long time for him to dry his saturated skin, and a much longer for his title of Mr. Ghost to be lost by the garrison boys. Not long after the above incident, this personage found that there was not “the ghost of a chance” of his continuing in business, as he became insolvent and had to retire. It would appear that while many of these military merchants on the frontiers have a chance to make fortunes, those who are located near a city like Omaha find it difficult to make both ends meet in their business affairs.
On reading the proceedings of Congress during the winter of 1875, he writes to his father as follows: “Congress seems to be looking around for some scape-goat on which to pile the odium of the millions legislated away, and, as usual, pitches on the army. It seems to be the opinion here, however, that no reduction will take place this winter. If Congressmen consulted occasionally others than the staff-officers living in Washington with regard to military affairs, they might find out the true whereabout of the tremendous rat-hole which swallows up annually the sum of thirty-four millions of dollars. It does not go to support the army proper, but to support that enormous, overgrown, expensive adjunct of the army, the staff, which, created merely for the administration of the army, now masters that which it was intended to subserve, and has become superior to it in rank and influence, and in everything that rank and influence can bring. But Congress seems to be blind to the fact that expenditures are credited to the army, under the army appropriation bill, which have no legitimate connection with it, and which would still be required if no army existed. Why is it that the army is the perpetual foot-ball of these demagogues? Is it thus, at every session, to be bantered about by those who do not understand the requirements of the country in this respect? Is not the causing of this periodical uncertainty respecting his fate the most pernicious thing that Congress can do to an officer? O consistency, thou art a jewel! How is it that the navy and other branches of the public service are not subject to this constant tinkering? But I am not in Congress, and had better subside.” The assertions here made can not be controverted, and, coming from a young man who had but recently passed his majority, prove him to be the possessor of very substantial abilities. He also expressed decided opinions in regard to various noted officials charged with improper conduct in Washington at the time alluded to, all of which have been sustained by subsequent developments.
Remembering what he said about the drinking customs of Omaha, on New-Year’s-day, 1875, it is pleasant to have him record the fact, on the 2d of January, 1876, that “the most noticeable feature during the previous day, in society, was the entire absence, at most houses, of any intoxicating liquors, and that he did not see a case of drunkenness during the entire day—a thing very rare even in the cities of the East.” On a subsequent occasion, he mentions the fact that, when one of his sergeants had been drinking to excess, he put him in arrest, but released him the next day, after warning him of the consequences of a repetition of the offense, and “preaching him a sermon on the evils of intoxication, moral, mental, and physical.” On one occasion, when his father had asked how he spent his leisure time in the barracks, he replied that he read, so as to combine pleasure with profit, played on his flute, and studied the art of short-hand, which had long been a hobby with him, and was to be in the future an important accomplishment. In an effort to read Draper’s “Intellectual Development of Europe,” he could only manage about one half of the work, and to counteract its dullness resorted to a novel, “The Wandering Jew.” As he was frequently called upon to act as recorder of the military court, he found his knowledge of stenography very useful and very much of a relaxation, and, on receiving a letter from one of his sisters which was good but not very plainly written, he said that he had been able to make it out by means of his skill in shorthand writing. As to his studies, he had formed a regular plan for prosecuting them, but was constantly interrupted by extra official duties. Among other things, he devoted himself to the German language, and subsequently to French, and attained considerable proficiency. An idea of his habits of industry may be gathered from what he wrote to his father, when the General was placed on the retired list of the navy: “So you are retired this month. You ought to open an office, or do something to occupy your mind. Every one needs something in the way of business or duty. You will soon get tired of reading continuously.” On the approach of spring, and with the expectation of obtaining a leave of absence during the coming summer, he resumed a discussion with his father about leaving the army for civil employment. He had entered it well posted in regard to its disadvantages, and chiefly for the sake of having something to do. He had now become more deeply impressed than before that promotion was so slow, that his prospects of increased rank and pay offered no inducements to any young man of energy and industry, qualities which he certainly possessed. He was not then ready for decisive action, but he was determined to support himself, and would, therefore, be on the lookout for advantageous prospects in some other line of employment. In one of his letters, after commenting upon the school which two of his sisters were attending, he gives us this bit of experience: “I am a school-teacher myself; my pupils, the non-commissioned officers of the company. They waste the midnight oil, however, only in boning the tactics. I go down and dilate and expatiate very profoundly on the reasons and logic of this and that. This is a pleasant school to have; the authority and influence of the officer have their full weight in the ordinary school-room as elsewhere in the army.” In May, 1876, after giving an account of a proposed demonstration, under General Crook, against the Indians on the Yellowstone, he thus relieves his mind: “Would that I belonged to the cavalry! I like motion, action, and variety. To be sure, I would rather be here (in Omaha) than where the other companies are, but still would rather be in the field than here.” In June, 1876, the monotony of his life was relieved by an order to take some convicts to the State prison near Fort Leavenworth, which he described as the largest post in the country, containing the post proper, the department headquarters, and the military prison. The State prison is about six miles from the town. “Here,” he writes, “are sent all the enlisted men who are dishonorably discharged, convicted of theft, or other not purely military offenses. The inclosure is an immense yard, surrounded by a high stone wall—the building, which is on one side, having an appearance somewhat like the Smithsonian Institution. In the inclosure are various other buildings, each one used as a workshop for some trade, almost all the common trades being represented. The prisoners, numbering about five hundred, are together in the daytime, but not at night, and are not allowed to talk with each other. It was from this prison that the best features of the new military prison were obtained, the board of officers on the management of the prison at Fort Leavenworth having decided it to be the best one to imitate.”
In the autumn of 1876, when he was granted a leave of absence to visit his parents, they found him in personal appearance wonderfully improved and developed, the boy of 1873 having become a handsome and accomplished gentleman. He was not slow, as may be supposed, in making his way to Philadelphia to visit the Centennial Exposition, which he greatly enjoyed.
IV.
ARMY-LIFE IN KANSAS.
During Lieutenant Lockwood’s absence on leave, his regiment was transferred to Fort Leavenworth, and there we find him early in 1877, and for about two years thereafter. Of course, the garrison life of an officer, in times of peace, is somewhat monotonous; but the letters which the lieutenant wrote from this station contain some passages which are interesting and illustrate his character, as will be seen in the following pages. Here it should be stated that, during his sojourn at Fort Leavenworth, he made many pleasant acquaintances, which ripened into friendship; among them being the widow of an officer, with whom he boarded for some time, and whose friendship he particularly valued.
At a time when there was quite a rage at the garrison for private theatricals, one of the superior officers took the liberty, without previous consultation, of putting Lockwood on the list of performers, whereupon he declined the honor, as he thought Nature never intended him for a star. In speaking of a little difficulty between two of his friends, he manifests his love of fun by stating that one of them had denied the allegation and defied the alligator. When commenting upon some disagreeable March weather, he said, “I don’t think the ground-hog has seen his shadow, and hence the latter part of the month ought to be pleasant.” After a remark on the proficiency he was making in the study of French, he quietly continues, “There are many here who speak it ‘à l’Américaine,’ as if they thought that ‘the chief end of man.’”
As if never satisfied with his acquirements, he writes in one of his letters as follows: “My latest hobby is telegraphing. The signal officer of the department has loaned me a small battery and an instrument. We have put up the wires and are progressing well. Telegraphy, like phonography, is easy to transmit after some little practice; but it is difficult to recognize the sounds as they come over the wire, and it requires as much practice as it does to recognize the phonographic characters. I have the instrument on the table before me, and can not fail to gain some proficiency at any rate.”
In July, 1877, when the strikers and rioters were making trouble in St. Louis, Mo., Lieutenant Lockwood’s company and five others were ordered to that city on duty. After their arrival, they waited in daily expectation of mowing down the mob, but there was little fighting, as the police and militia were found to be amply sufficient to subdue all disturbance. He was greatly pleased with the city and military quarters of St. Louis, and felt that he would like to remain there on permanent duty. The feature which pleased him more than any other at St. Louis was a private garden of about fifty acres, exquisitely planned, and containing the rarest and most beautiful flowers and trees. The floral display, there, he thought superior to that at the Centennial Exposition. The owner, a bachelor named Shaw, nearly eighty years of age, and a man of enormous wealth, paid out yearly in expenses twenty-five thousand dollars. At the garden residence of this millionaire, young Lockwood and a friend were hospitably entertained—a wonderful contrast to the accommodations at a beer-saloon, near the arsenal gate, where the army officers were obliged to take their meals while in the city. Altogether the trip was pleasant, but too expensive for men with limited means. On their return to Fort Leavenworth from the Eden-like garden of St. Louis, they were informed of Indian troubles in Montana, and startled by a rumor that they must soon be off upon a hunt for Indians—illustrating the vicissitudes of army-life.
It was about this time that a specimen of American royalty visited Fort Leavenworth with his daughter, to whom young Lockwood had an opportunity of being polite. This was a great cattle-man from Texas, who was said to have fenced in a grazing-farm of a million of acres, and who numbered his cattle by tens of thousands. His name was King, and his title in all the West was the “Cattle King of Texas.” The father and daughter were much interested in an inspection of the fort, where they were hospitably entertained. From that time onward for several months, the dullness of garrison-life was only relieved by parties, dinners, and theatrical amusements in the city, by the presence of an encampment of Indians near the post, and by attendance at a grand reception and ball given at Kansas City by the Governor of the State. The letters written by young Lockwood during all this period are elaborate and full of interest to his parents, but not enlivened with any incidents of public interest. The garrison courts seem to have demanded very much of his attention, because of his skill in taking down testimony by short-hand, and he was frequently compelled to devote many of his sleeping hours to the duty of writing out his notes.