CHAPTER IX.
Bacon and Hard-tack--In Danger of Ague--In Search of Whisky and Quinine--I Am Appointed Corporal--I Make a Speech--I Am the Leader of Ten Picked Men--I Am Willing to Resign.
The next day we arrived at a post where rations were plenty, and whereit was announced we should remain for a week or two, so we drew tentsand made ourselves as comfortable as possible. It did seem good to againbe where we did not have to depend on our own resources, of stealing,for what we wanted to eat. To be able to draw from the commissaryregular rations of meat, tea, coffee, sugar, baker's bread, and beans,was joy indeed, after what we had gone through, and we almost made hogsof ourselves. There was one thing--those few days of starvation taughtus a lesson, and that was, when ordered on a trip with two days'rations, to take at least enough for six days, especially of coffee andsalt pork or bacon. With coffee and a piece of old smoked bacon, a mancan exist a long time. I remember after that trip, wherever I went,there was a chunk of bacon in one of my saddle-bags that nobody knewanything about, and many a time, on long marches, when hunger would havebeen experienced almost as severe as the time written about last week,I would take out my chunk of bacon, cut off a piece and spread it ona hard-tack, and eat a meal that was more strengthening than any mealDelmonico ever spread. It was at this post that the boys in the regimentplayed a trick that caused much fun throughout all the army. Therewere a few men in each company who had the chills and fever, or ague,and the surgeon gave them each morning, a dose of whisky and quinine. Itwas interesting to see a dozen soldiers go to surgeon's call, taketheir "bitters," and return to their quarters. The boys would go to thesurgeon's tent sort of languid, and drag along, and after swallowing agood swig of whisky and quinine they would walk back to their quartersswinging their arms like Pat Rooney on the stage, and act as though theycould whip their weight in wild cats. I got acquainted with the hospitalsteward, and he said if the boys were not careful they would all be downwith the ague, and that an ounce of prevention was worth more than apound of cure. I thought I would take advantage of his advice, so I fellin with the sick fellows the next morning, and when the doctor asked,"What's the matter?" I said "chills," and he said, "Take a swallow outof the red bottle." I took a swallow, and it _was_ bitter, but it hadwhisky in it, more than quinine, and the idea of beating the governmentout of a drink of whisky was pleasure enough to overcome the bittertaste. I took a big swallow, and before I got back to my quarters I hadhad a fight with a mule-driver, and when the quartermaster interfered Ihad insulted him by telling him I knew him when he carried a hod, beforethe war, and I shouted, "Mort, more mort!" until he was going to latherme with a mule whip, but he couldn't catch me. As I run by the surgeon'stent, somebody remarked that I had experienced a remarkably suddencure for chills. The whisky was not real good, but as I had heard thehospital steward say they had just put in a requisition for two barrelsof it, to be prepared for an epidemic of chills, I thought the boysought to know it, so that day I went around to the different companiesand told the boys how to play it for a drink. There are very fewsoldiers, in the best regiment, that will not take a drink of whiskywhen far away from home, discouraged, and worn out by marching, andour fellows looked favorably upon the proposition to all turn out tosurgeon's call the next morning. I shall never forget the look on theface of the good old surgeon, as the boys formed in line in front of histent the next morning. The last time I saw him, he was in his coffin,about five years ago, at the soldier's home, and a few of the survivorsof the regiment that lived here had gone out to the home to take a lastlook at him, and act as mourners at the funeral. He looked much olderthan when he used to ask us fellows the conumdrum, "What's the matter?"but there was that same look on his white, cold face that there was themorning that nearly the whole regiment reported for "bitters."
There must have been four hundred men in line, and it happened that Iwas the first to be called. When he asked me about my condition, andI told him of the chills, he studied a minute, then looked at me, andsaid, You are bilious, David, give him a dose of castor oil. I know Iturned pale, for it was a great come down from quinine and whisky tocastor oil, for a healthy man, and I kicked. I told him I had the shakesawfully, and all I wanted was a quinine powder. I knew they had put alltheir quinine into a barrel of whisky, so I was safe in asking for dryquinine. The good old gentleman finally relented on the castor oil, andtold David to give me a swallow of the quinine bitters, but there was atwinkle in his eye, as he noticed what a big swallow I took, and then hesaid, "You will be well tomorrow; you needn't come again." I dropped outof the ranks, with my skin full of quinine and whisky, and watched theother fellows.
There were men in the line who had never been sick a day since theyenlisted, big fellows that would fight all day, and stand picket allnight, and who never knew what it was to have an ache. And it wasamusing to see them appear to shake, and to act as though they hadchills. Some of them could not keep from laughing, and it was evidentthat the doctor had his doubts about there being so many cases ofchills, but he dosed out the quinine and whisky as long as there was aman who shook. As each man took his dose, he would show two expressionson his face. One was an expression of hilarity at putting himselfoutside of a good swig of whisky, and the other was an expression ofcontempt for the bitter quinine, and an evident wish that the drugmight be left out. When all had been served, they lingered around thesurgeon's quarters, talking with each other and laughing, others formedon for a stag quadrille, and danced, while a nigger fiddled. Someseemed to feel as though they wanted some one to knock a chip offtheir shoulders, old grudges were talked over, and several fights wereprevented by the interference of friends who were jolly and happy, andwho did not believe in fighting for fun, when there was so much fightingto be done in the way of business. The old doctor walked up and down infront of his tent in a deep study. He was evidently thinking overthe epidemic of ague that had broken out in a healthy regiment, andspeculating as to its cause. Suddenly an idea seemed to strike him, andhe walked up to a crowd of his patients, who were watching a couple ofathletes, who had just taken their quinine, and who had put on boxinggloves and were pasting each other in the nose. "One moment," said theold doctor. The boys stopped boxing, and every last "sick" man listenedrespectfully to what the old doctor said; "Boys," said he, "you have gotit on me this time. I don't believe a confounded one of you have gotague at all. You 'shook me' for the whisky. After this, quinine willbe dealt out raw, without any whisky, and now you can shake all youplease." Some one proposed three cheers for the boys that had made UncleSam stand treat, and the cheers were given, and the boys separated totalk over the event. The next morning only the usual number of sick werein attendance at surgeon's call. The healthy fellows didn't want to takequinine raw.
About this time an incident occurred that was fraught with greatimportance to the country and to me, though the historians of the warhave been silent about it in their histories, whether through jealousyor something else I do not know, and modesty has prevented me frommaking any inquiries as to the cause. The incident alluded to was myappointment as corporal of my company. I say the incident was "fraught"with importance. I do not know the meaning of the word fraught, but itis frequently used in history in that connection, and I throw it in,believing that it is a pretty good word. The appointment came to me likea stroke of paralysis. I was not conscious that my career as a soldierhad been such as to merit promotion, I could not recall my particularlybrilliant military achievement that would warrant my governmentselecting me from the ranks and conferring honors upon me, unless itwas my lasooing that ram and dragging him into camp, when we were out ofmeat. But it was not my place to inquire into the cause that had led tomy sudden promotion over the rank and file. I thought if I made too manyinquiries it would be discovered that I was not such an all-fired greatsoldier after all. If the government had somehow got the impression thatI was well calculated to lead hosts to victory, and it was an erroneousimpression, it was the governments' place to find it out without
anyhelp on my part. I would accept the position with a certain dignity, asthough I knew that it was inevitable that I must sooner or later cometo the front. So when the captain informed me that he should appoint meCorporal, I told him that I thanked him, and through him, the Nation,and would try and perform the duties of the exacting and importantposition to the best of my ability, and hoped that I might not doanything that would bring discredit upon our distracted country. He saidthat would be all right, that he had no doubt the country would pullthrough. That evening at dress parade the appointment was read, and Ifelt elated. I thought it singular that the regiment did not break outinto cheers, and make the welkin ring, though they may not have hadany welkin to ring. However, I thought it was my duty to make a littlespeech, acknowledging the honor conferred upon me, as I had read thatgenerals and colonels did when promoted. I took off my hat and said,"Fellow soldiers." That was the end of my speech, for the captain turnedaround and said to the orderly sergeant, "Stop that red-headed cussesmouth some way," and the orderly told me to dry up. Everybody waslaughing, I supposed, at the captain. Anyway, I felt hurt, and when wegot back to camp the boys of all the companies surrounded me to offercongratulations, and I was called on for a speech. Not being in theranks, nobody could prevent me from speaking, so I got up on abarrel, and said:
"Fellow Soldiers:--As I was about to remark, when interrupted by thecaptain, on dress parade, this office has come to me entirely unsought.It has not been my wish to wear the gilded trappings of office andcommand men, but rather to fight in the ranks, a private soldier. Ienlisted as a private, and my ambition has been to remain in the ranksto the end of the war. But circumstances over which I have no controlhas taken me and placed me on the high pinnacle of Corporal, and I mustbow to the decree of fate. Of course, in my new position there mustnecessarily be a certain gulf between us. I have noticed that there hasbeen a gulf between me and the officers, and I have thought it wrong. Ihave thought that privates and officers should mingle together freely,and share each others secrets, privations and rations. But since beingpromoted I can readily see that such things cannot be. The private hashis position and the officer has his, and each must be separate. It isnot my intention to make any radical changes in the conduct of militaryaffairs at present, allowing things to go along about as they have, butas soon as I have a chance to look about me, certain changes will bemade. All I ask is that you, my fellow soldiers, shall stand by me,follow where I shall lead and--"
At this point in my address the head of the barrel on which I stood fellin with a dull thud, and I found myself up to the neck in corned-beefbrine. The boys set up a shout, some fellow kicked over the barrel, andthey began to roll it around the camp with me in it.
Just promoted to the proud position of Corporal 141]
This was a pretty position for a man just promoted to the proud positionof Corporal. As they rolled me about and yelled like Indians, I couldsee that an official position in that regiment was to be no sinecure.All official positions have more or less care and responsibility, butthis one seemed to me to have too much. Finally they spilled me out ofthe barrel, and I was a sight to behold. My first idea was to order thewhole two hundred fellows under arrest, and have them court-martialedfor conduct unbecoming soldiers; but on second thought I concluded thatwould seem an arbitrary use of power, so I concluded to laugh it off.One fellow said they begged pardon for any seeming disrespect to anofficial; but it had always been customary in the regiment to initiate acorporal who was new and too fresh with salt brine. I said that was allright, and I invited them all up to the chaplain's tent to join me in aglass of wine. The chaplain was away, and I knew he had received a kegof wine from the sanitary commission that day, so we went up to his tentand drank it, and everything passed off pleasantly until the chaplainhappened in. The boys dispersed as soon as he came, and left me to fightit out with the good man. He was the maddest truly good man I have everseen. I tried to explain about my promotion, and that it was customaryto set em up for the boys, and that there was no saloon near, andthat he had always told me to help myself to anything I wanted; buthe wouldn't be calm at all. I tried to quote from Paul's epistle abouttaking a little wine for the stomach-ache; but he just raved around andcalled me names, until I had to tell him that if he kept on I would, inmy official capacity as corporal, place him under arrest. That seemedto calm him a little, for he laughed, and finally he said I smelled ofstale corned-beef, and he kicked me out of his tent, and I retired tomy quarters to study over the mutability of human affairs, and theunpleasant features of holding official position.
That night I dreamed that General Grant and myself were running thearmy in splendid shape, and that we were in-receipt of constantcongratulations from a grateful country, for victories. He and I seemedto be great chums. I dreamed of engagements with the enemy, in which Iled men against fearful odds, and always came out victorious. I wokeup before daylight and was wondering what dangerous duty I would bedetailed to lead men upon, when the orderly poked his head in my tentand told me I was detailed to take ten picked men, at daylight, for hardservice, and to report at once. I felt that my time had come to achieverenown, and I dressed myself with unusual care, putting on the blousewith two rows of buttons, which I had brought from home. I borrowed apair of Corporal's chevrons and sewed them to the sleeves of my blouse,and was ready to die, if need be. I placed a Testament I had broughtfrom home, inside my blouse, in a breast pocket, as I had read ofmany cases where a Testament had been struck with a bullet and saved asoldier's life. I placed all my keepsakes in a package, and told my tentmate that I was going out with ten picked men, and it was possible Imight never show up again, and if I fell he was to send the articlesto my family. I wondered that I did not feel afraid to die. I was noprofessor of religion, though I had always tried to do the square thingall around, but with no consolation of religion at all, I felt a sweetpeace that was indescribable. If it was my fate to fall in defence of mycountry, at the head of ten picked men, so be it. Somebody must die, andwhy not me. I was no better than thousands of others, and while life wassweet to me, and I had anticipated much pleasure in life, after the war,in shooting ducks and holding office, I was willing to give up all hopeof pleasure in the future, and die like a thoroughbred. I was glad thatI had been promoted, and wondered if they would put "Corporal" on mytombstone. I wondered, if I fell that day at the head of my mem, ifthe papers at the North, and particularly in Wisconsin, would say "Thedeceased had just been promoted, for gallant conduct, to the position ofCorporal, and it will be hard to fill his place." With these thoughtsI sadly reported to the orderly. The ten picked men were in line. Theywere four of them Irishmen, two Yankees, two Germans, a Welshman and aScotchman. The orderly gave me a paper, sealed in an envelope. I turnedto my men, and said, "Boys, whatever happens today, I don't want to seeany man show the white feather. The world will read the accounts of thisday's work with feelings of awe, and the country will care for thosewe leave behind." We started off, and it occurred to me to read myinstructions. I opened the envelope with the air of a general who wasaccustomed to receive important messages. I read it, and almost fainted,It read "Report to the quartermaster, at the steamboat landing, tounload quartermaster's stores from steamer Gazelle." Ye gods! And thiswas the hard service that I was to lead ten picked men into. They hadpicked out ten stevedores, to carry sacks of corn, and hard-tack boxes,and barrels of pork, and that was the action I was to engage in as myfirst duty as corporal.
I almost cried. We rode down to the landing, where a dozen teams werewaiting to be loaded. It was all I could do to break the news to mypicked men that they were expected to lug sacks of corn instead of fight,and when I did they kicked at once. One of the Irishmen said he would beteetotally d----d if he enlisted to carry corn for mules, and he wouldlay in the guard-house till the war was over before he would lift asack. There was a strike on my hands to start on. I was sorry that I hadpermitted myself to be promoted to Corporal. Trouble from the outset.One of the Yankees suggested that we hold an
indignation meeting, so werode up in front of a cotton warehouse and dismounted. The Scotchman wasappointed chairman, and for half an hour the ten picked men discussedthe indignity that was attempted to be heaped upon them, by compellingthem to do the work of niggers.
They argued that a cavalry soldier's duty was exclusively to ride onhorseback, and that there was no power on earth to compel them to carrysacks of corn. One of the Dutchmen said he could never look a soldier inthe face again after doing such menial duty, and he would not submit toit. The Scotch chairman said if he had read the articles of war rightthere was no clause that said that the cavalry man should leave hishorse and carry corn. I was called upon for my opinion, and said that Iwas a little green as to the duties of a soldier, but supposed we had todo anything we were ordered to do, but it seemed a little tough. I toldthem I didn't want any mutiny, and it would be a plain case of mutinyif they refused to work. One of the Irishmen asked if I would help carrysacks of corn, and I told him that as commander of the expedition itwould be plainly improper for me to descend to a common day laborer.I held it to be the duty of a corporal to stand around and see the menwork. They all said that was too thin, and I would have to peel on mycoat and work if they did. I told them I couldn't lift a sack of cornto save me, but they said if that was the case I ought not to have come.The quartermaster was looking around for the detail that was to unloadthe boat, and he asked me if I had charge of the men detailed to unload.I told him that I _did_ have charge of them when we left camp, butthat they had charge of me now, and said they wouldn't lift a pound. Hethought a minute, and said, "I don't like to see you boys carrying cornsacks, and rolling pork barrels. Why don't you chip in and hire someniggers." The idea seemed inspired. There were plenty of niggers aroundthat would work for a little money. One of the Irishmen moved that theCorporal hire ten niggers to unload the quartermasters stores, and themotion was carried unanimously. I would have voted against it, but theScotchman, who was chairman, ruled that I had no right to vote. So Iwent and found ten niggers that agreed to work for fifty cents each, andthey were set to work, the quartermaster promising not to tell in campabout my hiring the work done. One of my Dutchmen moved that, inasmuchas we had nothing to do all day, that we take in the town, and playbilliards, and whoop it up until the boat was unloaded. That seemed areasonable proposition, and the motion carried, after an amendment hadbeen added to the effect that the Corporal stay on the boat and watchthe niggers, and see that they didn't shirk. So my first command, my tenpicked men, rode off up town, and I set on a wagon and watched my hiredmen. It was four o clock in the afternoon before the stuff was allloaded, and after paying the niggers five dollars out of my own pocket,some of my bounty money, I went up to town to round up my picked men totake them to camp. I found the Scotchman pretty full of Scotch whisky.He had found a countryman who kept a tailor shop, who had a bag pipe,and they were having a high old time playing on the instrument, andsinging Scotch songs. I got him on his horse, and we looked for therest. The two Germans were in a saloon playing pee-nuckel, and singingGerman songs, and their skins were pretty full of beer and cheese. Theywere got into the ranks, and we found the Irishmen playing forty-fivein a saloon kept by a countryman of theirs, and they had evidently hada shindig, as one of them had a black eye and a scratch on his nose, andthey were full of fighting whisky. The Yankees had swelled up on somekind of benzine and had hired a hack and taken two women out riding, andwhen we rounded them up each one had his feet out of the window of thehack, and they were enjoying themselves immensely. The Welchman was theonly one that was sober, but the boys said there was not enough liquorin the South to get him drunk. When I got them all mounted they lookedas though they had been to a banquet. We started for camp, but I did notwant to take them in until after dark, so we rode around the suburbs ofthe town until night drew her sable mantle over the scene. They insistedon singing until within half a mile of camp, and it would no doubt havebeen good music, only the Scotchman insisted on singing "The March ofthe Cameron Men," while the Irishmen sung "Lots of fun at Finnegan'sWake," and the German's sung "Wacht am Rhine." The Yankees sung the"Star Spangled Banner," and the Welchman sung something in the Welchlanguage which was worse than all. All the songs being sung together,of course I couldn't enjoy either of them as well as a Corporal oughtto enjoy the music of his command. Arriving near camp, the music washushed, and we rode in, and up to the captain's tent, where I reportedthat the corn was unloaded, all right. He said that was all right.Everything would have passed off splendidly, only one of the Irishmenproposed "three cheers" for the dandy Corporal of the regiment, andthose inebriated, picked men, gave three cheers that raised the roof ofthe colonel's tent near by, because I had hired niggers to do the work,and let the men have a holiday. I dismissed them as quick as I could,but the colonel sent for me, and I had to tell him the whole story. Hesaid I would demoralize the whole regiment in a week more, and Ibetter let up or he would have to discipline me. I offered to resign mycommission as Corporal, but he said I better hold on till we could havea fight, and may be I would get killed.
How Private George W. Peck Put Down the Rebellion Page 9
