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1861 AD (search for this): chapter 10
IX. A day in camp. I hear the bugle sound the calls For Reveille and Drill, For Water, Stable, and Tattoo, For Taps--and all was still. I hear it sound the Sick-Call grim, And see the men in line, With faces wry as they drink down Their whiskey and quinine. A partial description of the daily of the rank and file of the army in the monotony of camp life, more especially as it was lived during the years 1861, ‘62, and ‘63, covers the subjectmatter treated in this chapter. I do not expect it to be all new to the outside public even, who have attended the musters of the State militia, and have witnessed something of the routine that is followed there. This routine was the same in the Union armies in many respects, only with the latter there was a reality about the business, which nothing but stern war can impart, and which therefore makes soldiering comparatively uninteresting in State camp — such, at least, is the opinion of old campaigners. The private soldiers in every<
1864 AD (search for this): chapter 10
de the animals of the Army of the Potomac with water, as can be judged from the following figures: After Antietam McClellan had about thirty-eight thousand eight hundred horses and mules. When the army crossed the Rapidan into the Wilderness, in 1864, there were fifty-six thousand four hundred and ninety-nine horses and mules in it. Either of these is a large number to provide with water. But of course they were not all watered at the same pond or stream, since the army stretched across many miles of territory. In the summer of 1864, the problem of water-getting before Petersburg was quite a serious one for man and beast. No rain had fallen for several weeks, and the animals belonging to that part of the army which was at quite a remove from the James and Appomattox Rivers had to be ridden nearly two miles (such was the case in my own company, at least; perhaps others went further) for water, and then got only a warm, muddy, and stagnant fluid that had accumulated in some hollow.
May 3rd, 1864 AD (search for this): chapter 10
urgeon would look over the sick-list of animals, and prescribe for such as seemed worth saving or within the reach of treatment, while others would be condemned, led off, and shot. To bury these, and those dying without the aid of the bullet, I have shown, was a part of the fatigue duty of artillerymen and cavalrymen. The procuring of wood was often a task involving no little labor for all arms of the military service. At Brandy Station, Virginia, before the army left there on the 3d of May, 1864, some commands were obliged to go four or five miles for it. The inexperienced can leave little idea of how rapidly a forest containing many acres of heavy growth would disappear before an army of seventy-five or a hundred thousand men camped in and about it. The scarcity of wood was generally made apparent by this fact, that when an army first went into camp trees were cut with the scarf two or three feet above the ground, but as the scarcity increased these stumps would get chipped dow
James Brown (search for this): chapter 10
es, to form in line for the final roll-call of the day, known as Tattoo. But this was Tattoo in the artillery. A somewhat more inspiriting call was that of the infantry, which gave the bugler quite full scope as a soloist. Here it is:-- Ere the last tone had died away, we could hear, when camped near enough to the infantry for the purpose, a very comical medley of names and responses coming from the several company streets of the various regiments within ear-shot. It was Jones! --Brown! --Smith! --Joe Smith! --Green! --Gray! --O'Neil! --O'Reilly! --O'Brien! and so on through the nationalities, only that the names were intermingled. Then, the responses were replete with character. I believe it to be among the abilities of a man of close observation to write out quite at length prominent characteristics of an entire company, by noting carefully the manner in which the men answer Here! at roll-call. Every degree of pitch in the gamut was represented. Every degree of for
Gray (search for this): chapter 10
call of the day, known as Tattoo. But this was Tattoo in the artillery. A somewhat more inspiriting call was that of the infantry, which gave the bugler quite full scope as a soloist. Here it is:-- Ere the last tone had died away, we could hear, when camped near enough to the infantry for the purpose, a very comical medley of names and responses coming from the several company streets of the various regiments within ear-shot. It was Jones! --Brown! --Smith! --Joe Smith! --Green! --Gray! --O'Neil! --O'Reilly! --O'Brien! and so on through the nationalities, only that the names were intermingled. Then, the responses were replete with character. I believe it to be among the abilities of a man of close observation to write out quite at length prominent characteristics of an entire company, by noting carefully the manner in which the men answer Here! at roll-call. Every degree of pitch in the gamut was represented. Every degree of force had its exponent. Some answered in a
Green (search for this): chapter 10
al roll-call of the day, known as Tattoo. But this was Tattoo in the artillery. A somewhat more inspiriting call was that of the infantry, which gave the bugler quite full scope as a soloist. Here it is:-- Ere the last tone had died away, we could hear, when camped near enough to the infantry for the purpose, a very comical medley of names and responses coming from the several company streets of the various regiments within ear-shot. It was Jones! --Brown! --Smith! --Joe Smith! --Green! --Gray! --O'Neil! --O'Reilly! --O'Brien! and so on through the nationalities, only that the names were intermingled. Then, the responses were replete with character. I believe it to be among the abilities of a man of close observation to write out quite at length prominent characteristics of an entire company, by noting carefully the manner in which the men answer Here! at roll-call. Every degree of pitch in the gamut was represented. Every degree of force had its exponent. Some answ
Edward F. Jones (search for this): chapter 10
ast call (in artillery). Breakfast call (in infantry). Sick call (in artillery). Sick call (in infantry). Here are the words improvised to this call:-- Dr. Jones says, Dr. Jones says: Come and get your quin, quin, quin, quinine, Come and get your quinine, Q-u-i-n-i-n-e!!! In response to this call, some who were wholeDr. Jones says: Come and get your quin, quin, quin, quinine, Come and get your quinine, Q-u-i-n-i-n-e!!! In response to this call, some who were whole and needed not a physician, as well as those who were sick, reported at the surgeon's tent for prescriptions. Much used to be said by the soldiers in regard to the competency or incompetency of army surgeons. It was well understood in war time that, even though an examination of fitness was required of surgeons to secure an appohe infantry for the purpose, a very comical medley of names and responses coming from the several company streets of the various regiments within ear-shot. It was Jones! --Brown! --Smith! --Joe Smith! --Green! --Gray! --O'Neil! --O'Reilly! --O'Brien! and so on through the nationalities, only that the names were intermingled. The
Landseer (search for this): chapter 10
raded their bodies by swallowing drugs, for the ailments to which they laid claim. I can see to-day, after a lapse of more than twenty years, these beats on the government emerging from their tents at sick-call in the traditional army overcoat, with one hand tucked into the breast, the collar up, cap drawn down, one Fall in for your quinine. trousers-leg hung up on the strap of a government boot, and a pace slow and measured, appearing to bear as many of the woes and ills of mankind as Landseer has depicted in his Scapegoat. Sometimes the surgeons were shrewd enough to read the frauds among the patients, in which case they often gave them an unpalatable but harmless dose, and reported them back for duty, or, perhaps, reported them back for duty without prescription, at the same time sending an advisory note to the captain of the company to be on the lookout for them. It was, of course, a great disappointment to these would-be shirkers to fail in their plans, but some of the m
Antietam McClellan (search for this): chapter 10
e cavalry repaired to the picket-rope, and, taking their horses, set out to water them. This was a very simple and The picket rope. expeditious matter when the army was encamped near a river, as it frequently was; but when it was not, the horses were ridden from one-half a mile to two miles before a stream or pond was found adequate to the purpose. It was no small matter to provide the animals of the Army of the Potomac with water, as can be judged from the following figures: After Antietam McClellan had about thirty-eight thousand eight hundred horses and mules. When the army crossed the Rapidan into the Wilderness, in 1864, there were fifty-six thousand four hundred and ninety-nine horses and mules in it. Either of these is a large number to provide with water. But of course they were not all watered at the same pond or stream, since the army stretched across many miles of territory. In the summer of 1864, the problem of water-getting before Petersburg was quite a serious one
O'Brien (search for this): chapter 10
. But this was Tattoo in the artillery. A somewhat more inspiriting call was that of the infantry, which gave the bugler quite full scope as a soloist. Here it is:-- Ere the last tone had died away, we could hear, when camped near enough to the infantry for the purpose, a very comical medley of names and responses coming from the several company streets of the various regiments within ear-shot. It was Jones! --Brown! --Smith! --Joe Smith! --Green! --Gray! --O'Neil! --O'Reilly! --O'Brien! and so on through the nationalities, only that the names were intermingled. Then, the responses were replete with character. I believe it to be among the abilities of a man of close observation to write out quite at length prominent characteristics of an entire company, by noting carefully the manner in which the men answer Here! at roll-call. Every degree of pitch in the gamut was represented. Every degree of force had its exponent. Some answered in a low voice, only to tease the s
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