His letters were never dated.
My dear Summerhayes:
Say if you could get a few puffs of this cold air out here you
would think you were full of champagne water. I feel like a d - -
kid -
I thought I should never be young again - but here I am only 14
years old - my whiskers are falling out.
Capt. Brown of the 1st cay. wishes to be remembered to you both.
He is Park Superintendent. Says if you will come out here he will
take care of you and he would.
Am painting and doing some good work. Made a "govt. six" yesterday.
In the course of time, he bought an Island in the St. Lawrence
and they spent several summers there.
On the occasion of my husband accepting a detail in active
service in Washington at the Soldiers' Home, after his
retirement, he received the following letter.
INGLENEUK, CHIPPEWA BAY, N. Y.
My dear Jack -
So there you are - and I'm d - - glad you are so nicely fixed. It's
the least they could do for you and you ought to be able to enjoy
it for ten years before they find any spavins on you if you will
behave yourself, but I guess you will drift into that Army and
Navy Club and round up with a lot of those old alkalied
prairie-dogs whom neither Indians nor whiskey could kill and Mr.
Gout will take you over his route to Arlington.
I'm on the water wagon and I feel like a young mule. I am never
going to get down again to try the walking. If I lose my whip I
am going to drive right on and leave it.
We are having a fine summer and I may run over to Washington this
winter and throw my eye over you to see how you go. We made a
trip down to New Foundland but saw nothing worth while. I guess I
am getting to be an old swat - I can't see anything that didn't
happen twenty years ago,
Y -
FREDERICK R.
At the close of the year just gone, this great soul passed from
the earth leaving a blank in our lives that nothing can ever
fill. Passed into the great Beyond whose mysteries were always
troubling his mind. Suddenly and swiftly the call came - the hand
was stilled and the restless spirit took its flight.
CHAPTER XXXIII
DAVID'S ISLAND
At Davids' Island the four happiest years of my army life glided
swiftly away.
There was a small steam tug which made regular and frequent trips
over to New Rochelle and we enjoyed our intercourse with the
artists and players who lived there.
Zogbaum, whose well known pictures of sailors and warships and
soldiers had reached us even in the far West, and whose charming
family added so much to our pleasure.
Julian Hawthorne with his daughter Hildegarde, now so well known
as a literary critic; Henry Loomis Nelson, whose fair daughter
Margaret came to our little dances and promptly fell in love with
a young, slim, straight Artillery officer. A case of love at
first sight, followed by a short courtship and a beautiful little
country wedding at Miss Nelson's home on the old Pelham Road,
where Hildegarde Hawthorne was bridesmaid in a white dress and
scarlet flowers (the artillery colors) and many famous literary
people from everywhere were present.
Augustus Thomas, the brilliant playwright, whose home was near
the Remingtons on Lathers' Hill, and whose wife, so young, so
beautiful and so accomplished, made that home attractive and
charming.
Francis Wilson, known to the world at large, first as a singer in
comic opera, and now as an actor and author, also lived in New
Rochelle, and we came to have the honor of being numbered
amongst his friends. A devoted husband and kind father, a man of
letters and a book lover, such is the man as we knew him in his
home and with his family.
And now came the delicious warm summer days. We persuaded the
Quartermaster to prop up the little row of old bathing houses
which had toppled over with the heavy winter gales. There were
several bathing enthusiasts amongst us; we had a pretty fair
little stretch of beach which was set apart for the officers'
families, and now what bathing parties we had! Kemble, the
illustrator, joined our ranks - and on a warm summer morning the
little old Tug Hamilton was gay with the artists and their
families, the players and writers of plays, and soon you could
see the little garrison hastening to the beach and the swimmers
running down the long pier, down the run-way and off head first
into the clear waters of the Sound. What a company was that! The
younger and the older ones all together, children and their
fathers and mothers, all happy, all well, all so gay, and we of
the frontier so enamored of civilization and what it brought us!
There were no intruders and ah! those were happy days. Uncle Sam
seemed to be making up to us for what we had lost during all
those long years in the wild places.
Then Augustus Thomas wrote the play of "Arizona" and we went to
New York to see it put on, and we sat in Mr. Thomas' box and saw
our frontier life brought before us with startling reality.
And so one season followed another. Each bringing its pleasures,
and then came another lovely wedding, for my brother Harry gave
up his bachelor estate and married one of the nicest and
handsomest girls in Westchester County, and their home in New
Rochelle was most attractive. My son was at the Stevens Institute
and both he and Katharine were able to spend their vacations at
David's Island, and altogether, our life there was near to
perfection.
We were doomed to have one more tour in the West, however, and
this time it was the Middle West.
