Our anticipation was never to be realized, for, as we
all know, in May of 1898, the Spanish War broke out, and my
husband was ordered to New York City to take charge of the Army
Transport Service, under Colonel Kimball.
No delay was permitted to him, so I was left behind, to pack up
the household goods and to dispose of our horses and carriages as
best I could.
The battle of Manila Bay had changed the current of our lives,
and we were once more adrift.
The young Cavalry officers came in to say good-bye to Captain
Jack: every one was busy packing up his belongings for an
indefinite period and preparing for the field. We all felt the
undercurrent of sadness and uncertainty, but "a good health" and
"happy return" was drunk all around, and Jack departed at
midnight for his new station and new duties.
The next morning at daybreak we were awakened by the tramp, tramp
of the Cavalry, marching out of the post, en route for Cuba.
We peered out of the windows and watched the troops we loved so
well, until every man and horse had vanished from our sight.
Fort Myer was deserted and our hearts were sad.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* *
My sister Harriet, who was visiting us at that time, returned
from her morning walk, and as she stepped upon the porch, she
said:
