On the way out in the cars,
Mrs. Rae met the colonel of the regiment - a real colonel, who is
called a colonel, too - who was also on his way to this post, and with
him was Lieutenant Whittemore, a classmate of Faye's. Colonel
Fitz-James was very courteous to Mrs. Rae, and when they reached Kit
Carson he insisted upon her coming over with him in the ambulance that
had been sent to meet him. This was very much more comfortable than
riding in the old stage, so she gladly accepted, and to show her
appreciation of the kindness, she invited the colonel, also Lieutenant
Whittemore, to dine with us the following evening!
Yes, there is still more, for it so happens that Colonel Fitz-James is
known to be an epicure, to be fussy and finical about all things
pertaining to the table, and what is worse takes no pains to disguise
it, and in consequence is considered an undesirable dinner guest by
the most experienced housekeepers in the regiment. All this I had
often heard, and recalled every word during the long hours of that
night as I was making plans for the coming day. The combination in its
entirety could not have been more formidable. There was Faye's mother,
a splendid housekeeper - her very first day in our house. His colonel
and an abnormally sensitive palate - his very first meeting with each
of us. His classmate, a young man of much wealth - a perfect stranger
to me. A soldier cook, willing, and a very good waiter, but only a
plain everyday cook; certainly not a maker of dainty dishes for a
dinner party. And my own experiences in housekeeping had been limited
to log huts in outlandish places.
Every little thing for that dinner had to be prepared in our own
house. There was no obliging caterer around the corner where a salad,
an ice, and other things could be hurriedly ordered; not even one
little market to go to for fish, flesh, or fowl; only the sutler's
store, where their greatest dainty is "cove" oysters! Fortunately
there were some young grouse in the house which I had saved for Mrs.
Rae and which were just right for the table, and those West could cook
perfectly.
So with a head buzzing from quinine I went down in the morning, and
with stubborn determination that the dinner should be a success, I
proceeded to carry out the plans I had decided upon during the night.
The house was put in splendid order and the dinner prepared, and
Colonel Knight was invited to join us. I attempted only the dishes
that could be served well - nothing fancy or difficult - and the
sergeant's wife remained to assist West in the kitchen. It all passed
off pleasantly and most satisfactorily, and Colonel Fitz-James could
not have been more agreeable, although he looked long and sharply at
the soldier when he first appeared in the dining room. But he said not
a word; perhaps he concluded it must be soldier or no dinner. I have
been told several nice things he said about that distracting dinner
before leaving the garrison. But it all matters little to me now,
since it was not found necessary to take me to a lunatic asylum!
Mrs. Rae saw in a paper that Faye had been shot by a desperado, and
was naturally much alarmed, so she sent a telegram to learn what had
happened, and in reply Faye telegraphed for her to come out, and
fearing that he must be very ill she left Boston that very night. But
we understood that she would start the next day, and this
misinterpretation caused my undoing - that and the sand storm.
That man Oliver has at last been arrested and is now in the jail at
Las Animas, chained with another man - a murderer - to a post in the
dark cellar. This is because he has so many times threatened the
jailer. He says that some day he will get out, and then his first act
will be to kill the keeper, and the next to kill Lieutenant Rae. He
also declares that Faye kicked him when he was in the guardhouse at
the post. Of course anyone with a knowledge of military discipline
would know this assertion to be false, for if Faye had done such a
thing as that, he might have been court-martialed.
The sheriff was actually afraid to make the arrest the first time he
went over, because so many of Oliver's friends were in town, and so he
came back without him, although he saw him several times. The second
trip, however, Oliver was taken off guard and was handcuffed and out
of the town before he had a chance to rally his friends to his
assistance. He was brought to Las Animas during the night to avoid any
possibility of a lynching. The residents of the little town are full
of indignation that the man should have attempted to kill an officer
of this garrison. He is a horse thief and desperado, and made his
escape from their jail several months back, so altogether they
consider that the country can very well do without him. I think so,
too, and wish every hour in the day that the sheriff had been less
cautious. Oliver cannot be tried until next May, when the general
court meets, and I am greatly distressed over this fact, for the jail
is old and most insecure, and he may get out at any time. The fear and
dread of him is on my mind day and night.
FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
December, 1873.
EVERYONE in the garrison seems to be more or less in a state of
collapse! The bal masque is over, the guests have departed, and all
that is left to us now are the recollections of a delightful party
that gave full return for our efforts to have it a success.
