The Author of ‘My Official Wife."

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue V, 30 January 1904, Page 28

The Author of ‘My Official Wife."

The late Colonel Richard Henry Savage was known to most readers of novels as the author of the brilliant work. “M\ OHicia] Wife”; but to those who had the pleasure of his personal acquaintance. he was even better known as the man and the soldier. A truly gallant fellow, a great rider, a fine shot, an athlete of superb strength, a fearless soldier, one of the most unselfish and generous souls that ever lived —such was Riehard Savage. Tie had had one of those chequered. adventurous, ami varied careers that are only possible in 11n* great and wondrous land to which he belonged. He was the first child to attend a public school tn San Francisco:

went through all the wild period of daring and adventure which has found its immortal historian in Bret Harte; was a young West Point officer; served in several wars and missions abroad; and when he was married to a German lady of extraordinary beauty ami great gifts was so popular that General Grant, then President of the United States, went to the wedding, and the German Ambassador presided over the marriage festivities. After he had been years in commerce and in literature, there came the Spanish war, and the old soldier spirit was once more aroused, and lie joined as a volunteer. He was ever foremost in the hour of danger, and with the dash of a boy was among the first to land at Havana: indeed, he is

said to have raised the first American flag over the capital of Cuba. He was prostrated soon after by fever; and then, when he was invalided home, his men, who adored him, presented him with a splendid sword, a testimony of his bravery and hospitality. Whatever work Colonel Savage took in hand he devoted himself to with the same abounding energy. It is only twelve years ago since the publication of “My Official Wife” revealed to him his great powers as a writer, and in the period he has written no fewer than thirtyeight novels. He was contemplating the memoirs of his trying and adventurous life when a waggon knocked him down as he was crossing a street, and the gallant fellow, who had passed scatldess through showers of bullets

in many a battle, was prostrated under the wheels of a furniture van! In his dying hours he was true to his heroic spirit. Knowing that his wife, who was absent in Russia with her daughter, would be tempted to rush across continent and ocean to his side, he insisted that his friends should not tell her how dangerous his state was; laughed at all—pretended to laugh at all possibility of a mortal result, and talked gaily of being in the law courts to sue the owners of the waggon in a few weeks. His strategy succeeded too well. His unhappy wife, whose devotion to him was as fervid as his to her. heard of his flea th for the first time when a telegram announced to her that he had been buried at West Point with funeral honours. It was an aggravation, if any aggravation were possible, of her terrible grief at the loss of the best of husbands and the most gallant of men.