My Army Life and the Fort Phil Kearny Massacre. Frances Carrington
United States Census, they cherish the tradition that Washington still occupies a palace at the entrance to the Happy Hunting Grounds of the Indian Paradise, to receive and welcome the Senecas, and that he will abide there to receive their salutes as they enter so long as man shall have his earthly existence prolonged. Although they have children named from every American President from Adams down to Cleveland, and later, they have held the name of Washington as too sacred for adoption in their own households."
CHAPTER VII.
AT LARAMIE—A FAMOUS OLD POST.
BUT I must retrace my footsteps from this tempt- ing excursion into the past to the realities of the very present. With all deference to its historic character, Fort Laramie, in my observation and experience, did not impress me as particularly inter- esting. We crossed the clear, beautiful stream as we approached the Fort, but at that season its glory had departed. The parade ground was bare of sod, but in its centre "the flag was still there." The adobe houses of gray appearance imparted their sombre hue to the whole surroundings. The scen- ery, however, beautiful or otherwise, affected me but little, except in a general depression, so great was my concern to escape the ambulance and plant my feet on any kind of earth whatever.
The attempt to adjust myself to the surround- ings began at once, although I knew perfectly well that our stay would be transient. I was learning the army habit, and this was but another step in the process of development into a full-fledged army woman, unless that development were diverted in some unforeseen experience. Quarters were assigned us, and with alacrity, if not delight, I took posses- sion of my first adobe ("dobey") residence. The first duty after a survey of the rooms was to unpack trunks, for the first time since leaving Fort Leaven- worth, as the most needful articles for the journey
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had been stored in the ambulance. Two small rooms and a kitchen of like proportions, which seemed, however, like spacious apartments, were to be our own for the present. Gray army blankets were tacked upon the floors to the extent of their capacity. Hospital cots were utilized for beds, and we began, as the children say, "to keep house." And now for my nick-nacks and such belongings to reproduce home environment, as I attempted once before on Governor's Island, where my initial army experience began! The thought was ever recurrent that my stay would not be long, as my husband was under orders to join his regiment at Fort Phil. Kearney, two hundred and forty miles beyond.
Even while at Omaha there appeared to be an indefinite idea at headquarters that Indian opera- tions had begun; but few, even at Laramie, so far west, realized that a real war of extermination pre- vailed about Fort Phil. Kearney, and that this war was being waged for the extermination of the white man and not of the Indian. And yet, at that very time, the advantage was on the side of the redman in every particular, firearms included, as we learned later to our sorrow. There was no telegraphic com- munication between the two posts, and practically no travel, except with an occasional mail party which the colonel commanding persisted in sending over the trail at great risk of life, as we viewed it. There were plenty of Indians of the friendly sort visible at any hour of the day, but there was a feel- ing of perfect security at Fort Laramie itself.
All was vague, uninviting, and apparently almost
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impracticable, for the transportation of trunks in army wagons for a long distance was certainly a hazardous undertaking, as I found when the task of unpacking began. As I lifted the trunk trays every article was permeated with dust, and some of them unrecognizable. Garments immediately beneath had been so cut that the trays seemed to have been converted into chopping knives, or saws would better describe them and their work.
The long drawn out process of mending and darning was, to say the least, inopportune and unan- ticipated. In my dilemma the servant question con- fronted me at once. In slavery days it was no ques- tion at all, for my father was a slave owner, though an ideal one, and I had no occasion to give this sub- ject thought. Few lieutenants in active service on the Plains took the responsibility of securing ser- vants, as transportation was limited and accommo- dations very circumscribed. During all my married life, however, the same question has from time to time arisen, ghost-like, and will not down. It was finally settled, or half settled, in this instance by securing the services of a squaw to do laundry work and extricate me from the accumulated dust of travel. I simply had to make a beginning some- where, and this was easier of accomplishment than the risk involved in cooking. My new-found helper was in total ignorance of the use of the wash-boiler, in lieu of which she rubbed the clothing into holes to remove refractory stains, so that I reluctantly settled down to the conviction that chawed clothing I was fated to wear.
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Calico could be obtained at the sutler's store, and in a measure retrieved my loss, though I was very forcibly reminded of war prices paid for simi- lar goods at my Southern home not so very long before. When my squaw had completed her task, as I supposed, I sat waiting for a signal to that effect by her reappearance. Instead of that I found her just outside my quarters sitting down in the dirt, but fast asleep, by no means suggesting a "Madonna of the Tub," although she wore two pairs of ear- rings and chains depended from her neck. As I confronted her for settlement the Atlantic Ocean might as well have rolled between us so far as any communication we were able to make could help the situation. Someone was needed to break the spell and bring about an understanding. Finally a soldier appeared who knew some words of her language and offered to act as interpreter, so that between his efforts and a combination of signs and grunts I was relieved of all responsibility.
The water used at Laramie was at that time hauled from the river for all purposes and was abundant and clear, and yet there was a conscious- ness that you were limited in its use, perhaps on account of the process of conveyance. I had not then the experience which came later in Texas of buying water that had been transported sixty miles by railroad and was peddled in the streets by wagons at exorbitant prices. In that case the only alternative was a choice between the strong alkaline water of the Bio Grande, which seemed no barrier to
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Mexican taste, or the purchase of melted manu- factured ice at its great cost.
We had, of course, our mess-chest with its limited supply of cooking utensils and the inevitable camp- kettle for the journey, and when these were aug- mented by stock from the sutler's store and the stove set up in the kitchen the puzzle in this domestic experience was, li Where is the cook?"
For a consideration we were invited to join the "Mess," composed of a dozen or more officers at the post, who were most courteous and obliging to the only woman at their board. Fortunately there were quite comfortable chairs in the quarters. We also had our own two small camp chairs, an important portion of our worldly goods, or it might have de- volved upon us to sit on the hospital cots, a position beyond endurance. I am conscious that I made great effort to be comfortable upon very little, and simply had to do it, not of choice but of necessity. A small mirror was discovered on a shelf one day, probably left by a former occupant of the quarters, but its surface so much resembled tin and was so discourag- ing in its reflections that I resorted to my little hand mirror to be reassured of my own identity.
I made another discovery a little later, greatly to my surprise and gratification, that my squaw was not the only representative of my sex at Laramie. The other was a school teacher sent out to teach the young Indian idea "how to shoot." They could shoot well enough in other directions, if opportunity offered, and this was an innovation surely, though it absorbed so much of her time as to leave scant
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leisure for social visiting; but her very presence was a pleasant thought.
I