Vanished Arizona

Martha Summerhayes

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. TO MY SON HARRY SUMMERHAYES WHO SHARED THE VICISSITUDES OF MY LIFE

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• Publié par: Pub One Info
• Date de parution: 27 septembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9782819923084
• Langue: English

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VANISHED ARIZONA
Recollections of the Army Life by a New EnglandWoman
by Martha Summerhayes
TO MY SON HARRY SUMMERHAYES WHO SHARED THEVICISSITUDES OF MY LIFE
IN ARIZONA, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELYDEDICATED
Preface
I have written this story of my army life at theurgent and ceaseless request of my children.
For whenever I allude to those early days, and tellto them the tales they have so often heard, they always say: “Now,mother, will you write these stories for us? Please, mother, do; wemust never forget them. ”
Then, after an interval, “Mother, have you writtenthose stories of Arizona yet? ” until finally, with the aid of someold letters written from those very places (the letters having beenpreserved, with other papers of mine, by an uncle in New Englandlong since dead), I have been able to give a fairly connectedstory.
I have not attempted to commemorate my husband'sbrave career in the Civil War, as I was not married until someyears after the close of that war, nor to describe the many Indiancampaigns in which he took part, nor to write about theachievements of the old Eighth Infantry. I leave all that to thehistorian. I have given simply the impressions made upon the mindof a young New England woman who left her comfortable home in theearly seventies, to follow a second lieutenant into the wildestencampments of the American army.
Hoping the story may possess some interest for theyounger women of the army, and possibly for some of our oldfriends, both in the army and in civil life, I venture to send itforth.
POSTCRIPT (second edition).
The appendix to this, the second edition of my book,will tell something of the kind manner in which the first editionwas received by my friends and the public at large.
But as several people had expressed a wish that Ishould tell more of my army experiences I have gone carefully overthe entire book, adding some detail and a few incidents which hadcome to my mind later.
I have also been able, with some difficulty and muchpatient effort, to secure several photographs of exceptionalinterest, which have been added to the illustrations.
January, 1911.
VANISHED ARIZONA
CHAPTER I. GERMANY AND THE ARMY
The stalwart men of the Prussian army, the Lancers,the Dragoons, the Hussars, the clank of their sabres on thepavements, their brilliant uniforms, all made an impression upon myromantic mind, and I listened eagerly, in the quiet evenings, totales of Hanover under King George, to stories of battles lost, andthe entry of the Prussians into the old Residenz-stadt; the flightof the King, and the sorrow and chagrin which prevailed.
For I was living in the family of General Weste, theformer stadt-commandant of Hanover, who had served fifty years inthe army and had accompanied King George on his exit from the city.He was a gallant veteran, with the rank of General-Lieutenant,ausser Dienst. A charming and dignified man, acceptingphilosophically the fact that Hanover had become Prussian, butloyal in his heart to his King and to old Hanover; pretending greatwrath when, on the King's birthday, he found yellow and white sandstrewn before his door, but unable to conceal the joyful gleam inhis eye when he spoke of it.
The General's wife was the daughter of a burgomasterand had been brought up in a neighboring town. She was a dear, kindsoul.
The house-keeping was simple, but stately andprecise, as befitted the rank of this officer. The General wasaddressed by the servants as Excellenz and his wife as FrauExcellenz. A charming unmarried daughter lived at home, making,with myself, a family of four.
Life was spent quietly, and every evening, after ourcoffee (served in the living-room in winter, and in the garden insummer), Frau Generalin would amuse me with descriptions of life inher old home, and of how girls were brought up in her day; howindustry was esteemed by her mother the greatest virtue, andidleness was punished as the most beguiling sin. She was neverallowed, she said, to read, even on Sunday, without herknitting-work in her hands; and she would often sigh, and say tome, in German (for dear Frau Generalin spoke no other tongue),“Ach, Martha, you American girls are so differently brought up”;and I would say, “But, Frau Generalin, which way do you think isthe better? ” She would then look puzzled, shrug her shoulders, andoften say, “Ach! times are different I suppose, but my ideas cannever change. ”
Now the dear Frau Generalin did not speak a word ofEnglish, and as I had had only a few lessons in German before Ileft America, I had the utmost difficulty at first in comprehendingwhat she said. She spoke rapidly and I would listen with theclosest attention, only to give up in despair, and to say, “GuteNacht, ” evening after evening, with my head buzzing and my mind ablank.
After a few weeks, however, I began to understandeverything she said, altho' I could not yet write or read thelanguage, and I listened with the greatest interest to the story ofher marriage with young Lieutenant Weste, of the bringing up of herfour children, and of the old days in Hanover, before the Prussianstook possession.
She described to me the brilliant Hanoverian Court,the endless festivities and balls, the stately elegance of the oldcity, and the cruel misfortunes of the King. And how, a few daysafter the King's flight, the end of all things came to her; for shewas politely informed one evening, by a big Prussian major, thatshe must seek other lodgings— he needed her quarters. At this pointshe always wept, and I sympathized.
Thus I came to know military life in Germany, and Ifell in love with the army, with its brilliancy and its glitter,with its struggles and its romance, with its sharp contrasts, itsdeprivations, and its chivalry.
I came to know, as their guest, the best of oldmilitary society. They were very old-fashioned and precise, andFrau Generalin often told me that American girls were tooausgelassen in their manners. She often reproved me for seatingmyself upon the sofa (which was only for old people) and also forlooking about too much when walking on the streets. Young girlsmust keep their eyes more cast down, looking up only occasionally.(I thought this dreadfully prim, as I was eager to see everything).I was expected to stop and drop a little courtesy on meeting anolder woman, and then to inquire after the health of each member ofthe family. It seemed to take a lot of time, but all the othergirls did it, and there seemed to be no hurry about anything, ever,in that elegant old Residenz-stadt. Surely a contrast to ourbustling American towns.
A sentiment seemed to underlie everything they did.The Emperor meant so much to them, and they adored the Empress. Apersonal feeling, an affection, such as I had never heard of in arepublic, caused me to stop and wonder if an empire were not thebest, after all. And one day, when the Emperor, passing throughHanover en route, drove down the Georgen-strasse in an openbarouche and raised his hat as he glanced at the sidewalk where Ihappened to be standing, my heart seemed to stop beating, and I wasovercome by a most wonderful feeling— a feeling that in a man wouldhave meant chivalry and loyalty unto death.
In this beautiful old city, life could not be takenany other than leisurely. Theatres with early hours, the maidcoming for me with a lantern at nine o'clock, the frequentKaffee-klatsch, the delightful afternoon coffee at theGeorgen-garten, the visits to the Zoological gardens, where wealways took our fresh rolls along with our knitting-work in abasket, and then sat at a little table in the open, and were servedwith coffee, sweet cream, and butter, by a strapping Hessianpeasant woman— all so simple, yet so elegant, so peaceful.
We heard the best music at the theatre, which wasmanaged with the same precision, and maintained by the Governmentwith the same generosity, as in the days of King George. No one wasallowed to enter after the overture had begun, and an absolute hushprevailed.
The orchestra consisted of sixty or more pieces, andthe audience was critical. The parquet was filled with officers inthe gayest uniforms; there were few ladies amongst them; the lattersat mostly in the boxes, of which there were several tiers, and assoon as the curtain fell, between the acts, the officers wouldrise, turn around, and level their glasses at the boxes. Sometimesthey came and visited in the boxes.
As I had been brought up in a town half Quaker, halfPuritan, the custom of going to the theatre Sunday evenings wasrather a questionable one in my mind. But I soon fell in with theirways, and found that on Sunday evenings there was always the mostbrilliant audience and the best plays were selected. With thisbreak-down of the wall of narrow prejudice, I gave up othersequally as narrow, and adopted the German customs with my wholeheart.
I studied the language with unflinchingperseverance, for this was the opportunity I had dreamed about andlonged for in the barren winter evenings at Nantucket when I satporing over Coleridge's translations of Schiller's plays and BayardTaylor's version of Goethe's Faust.
Should I ever read these intelligently in theoriginal?
And when my father consented for me to go over andspend a year and live in General Weste's family, there never was ahappier or more grateful young woman. Appreciative and eager, I didnot waste a moment, and my keen enjoyment of the German classicsrepaid me a hundred fold for all my industry.
Neither time nor misfortune, nor illness can takefrom me the memory of that year of privileges such as is given fewAmerican girls to enjoy, when they are at an age to fullyappreciate them.
And so completely separated was I from the Americanand English colony that I rarely heard my own language spoken, andthus I lived, ate, listened, talked, and even dreamed inGerman.
There seemed to be time enough to do everything wewished; and, as the Franco-Prussian war was just over (it was theyear o