Having entered upon duty at the barracks of Omaha, he seems to have made himself especially useful there, while enjoying some of the comforts of civilization, including good society. On the 25th of September, he wrote that he had been busy for a week as the recorder of a court-martial. “We settled nine cases, and, while we now stand adjourned sine die, I suppose the court will soon be reconvened to try half a dozen more men against whom charges have been preferred. There have been, since my arrival here, as many as sixty men in the guard-house, and courts-martial are the order of the day. I have to attend drills, etc., every day, and hence my leisure and opportunities for visiting the town have been limited. However, I did go last night to a concert in town given for the benefit of the grasshopper sufferers, several of these sufferers from the country being present. You can not realize what a nuisance these insects are in this country. I have not yet seen them in any numbers, or the effects of their ravages, but I am told they sometimes actually stop the railway-trains. The incredible number of bed-bugs in this country is another curious fact. I sleep so soundly that they do not disturb 32 me. They infest every house at the post, and they are also numerous in the city, the fences between here and there being painted in many places, ‘Go to Smith’s for the great bed-bug buster.’” He became a favorite in the refined society of Omaha, at that time on the confines of civilization, but appearing to him like a bit of New York city cut off and set down in the wilderness, where, only a few years before, the buffalo ranged in his native freedom. During his residence at Omaha, young Lockwood was on the most friendly terms with all his fellow-officers, with one exception. After giving his father a very manly account of that trouble, he writes a paragraph about himself in these words: “With regard to myself, I find this army-life about what I expected. It has its pleasures and its crosses. I should prefer the cavalry to the infantry, and am sorry I did not apply for that arm of the service. I should like to remain in the army two or three years longer, I think, and yet, with a good opening, might do better in civil life. Promotion is very slow, and the accumulation of anything is not easy. These, of course, are rude impressions and but half formed, but, as you ask for impressions, I feel bound to give them just as they are. I have not been in the army long enough to rise, nor have I had the opportunity to gain any particular reputation, but suppose mine is as good as the average—that is, I think I have displayed as much aptitude for my profession as is generally exhibited by men of average ability, for of such I regard myself—perhaps below the average. I hope this peroration will answer 33 your inquiries, and prove satisfactory in that respect. Excuse the necessary egotism. I will thankfully receive any advice or corrections which the reading of this, or your acquaintance with my characteristics, may suggest. I feel as though I had written a lot of foolishness; if you think so, please excuse.”

To the writer of this personal history, it seems as if such sentiments as the above could come only from a young man endowed with the highest instincts of ambition, honor, and true manhood, and can not but be considered, with others of like character, as a suitable passport into the land of Odin and the glories of Valhalla.

During his stay at Omaha, Lieutenant Lockwood was detailed by General Ord, the commanding officer, to visit those counties of Nebraska where grasshoppers had destroyed the crops, for the purpose of determining to whom contributions which had been sent to the general should be given. In this journey of several hundred miles, made in the coldest weather, he visited the several county towns, met the citizens, and afterward laid before the general such testimony as to the destitute, that the bounty was distributed to the satisfaction of all. While on this duty, he traveled ninety miles in twenty-four hours. The county people with whom he conducted business, he designated as “Grasshoppers.” He greatly enjoyed the prairie scenery through which he passed, especially the valley of the Blue.

On the approach of Christmas at Omaha, our young friend had an attack of chills and fever, which 34 sent him to his bed. After deploring that he could not perform his duties on the pending court-martial, he gives us this holiday information: “Yesterday was Christmas, and I am glad that the day comes but once a year. With a large party I was occupied until late in the afternoon making the rounds of the many houses here at the post. In the evening, I ate a fine dinner at General Ord’s, and on top of that, danced in the parlor until eleven or twelve o’clock, and, as a consequence, am coming on as officer of the guard to-day with a most gorgeous headache. So much for Christmas. I have received two or three presents, but have made none myself, from want of funds. I just now heard a tremendous crash, and, on going out, found a fine lunch, sent by Mrs. Ord, scattered on the ground, and in the midst of the débris of broken glass and china, the unfortunate bearer, who had slipped and fallen on the ice in front of the door. I was not particularly sorry on my own account, as I could not have eaten the good things ‘anyhow.’ Upon the whole, Christmas has passed away as it usually does, pleasantly, though at the expense of many unfortunate turkeys. I am sorry I could not send home any presents, my pecuniary affairs being in a straitened condition. I should like very much to be at home about this time. I often wish I could hear Lidie and Anna sing, although I suppose I would find the girls, including Julia and Mary, much changed.”

Remembering young Lockwood’s remarks about whisky-drinking in New York, the following statement is worth quoting: “Most of the ladies at the 35 post received visitors on New-Year’s-day, either singly or in groups. One marked feature of the day was the general absence of liquor, its place being supplied by coffee, chocolate, and other refreshments of a more solid and less stimulating character. I noticed the same thing in town, or rather that at those places where I saw liquor, the ladies were less urgent than is usually the case in pressing it upon the gentlemen. However, there is less drinking at this post than at any other I have seen, as large as it is. Although, with few exceptions, all drink here, it is done quietly at home and without excess.”

As our young friend had narrowly escaped with his life from drowning at Annapolis, so did he from the pranks of an unruly horse at the Omaha Barracks. He was about mounting the horse for a ride, when the animal started on the run before he could get into the saddle, when he was thrown forward upon his head. The trouble was owing to a defect in the bridle. In accounting for his escape, he remarked that his thick head was what saved his life. True to his native pluck, he tackled the same horse a number of times afterward, until the animal—a special favorite—was subdued.

In the month of June, 1875, it would seem as if something like homesickness was weighing down his spirits, for he then began to write about employment in civil life. Not that he disliked the army, but he longed for some business that would enable him to make a little money. He thought he could supply a sufficient amount of energy to prosecute a commercial 36 venture. He felt that there was a great difference between the roads that lead to wealth and to military glory. If his father should chance to see an opening that might give him a fortune in a few days at the expense of a few hundred dollars or some hard work, he wanted to be promptly notified. He broached these business ideas at that time merely for the sake of having a subject for discussion when permitted to visit his home.

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 37 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 38 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 39 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 40 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 41 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 42 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.