The Drummer Boy
Page 11
X.
FRANK'S PROGRESS.
So passed Thanksgiving in camp.
The next day the boys, with somewhat lugubrious faces, returned to theirhard diet of pork and hominy, heaving now and then a sigh of fondremembrance, as they thought of yesterday's puddings and turkeys.
And now came other hardships. The days were generally warm, sometimes hoteven, like those of July in New England. But the nights were cold, andgrowing colder and colder as the winter came on. And the tents were but athin shelter, and clothing was scanty, and the men suffered. Many a timeFrank, shivering under his blanket, thought, with a swelling and homesickheart, of Willie in his soft, warm bed, of his mother's inexhaustiblestore of comforters, and of the kitchen stove and the family breakfast,those raw wintry mornings.
From the day the regiment encamped, the men had expected that they weresoon to move again. But now they determined that, even though they shouldhave orders to march in three days, they would make themselvescomfortable in the mean while. They accordingly set to work constructingunderground stoves, covered with flat stones, with a channel on one sideto convey away the smoke, and a deeper channel on the other for thedraft. These warmed the earth, and kept up an even temperature in thetents all night.
I said Frank sometimes had homesick feelings. It was not alone thehardships of camp life that caused them. But as yet he had not received asingle letter from his friends, and his longing to get news from them wassuch as only those boys can understand who have never been away from homeuntil they have suddenly gone upon a long and comfortless journey, andwho then begin to realize, as never before, all the loving care of theirparents, the kindness of brothers and sisters, and the blessedness of thedear old nest from which they have untimely flown.
Owing to the uncertainty of the regiment's destination, Captain Edney hadtold his men to have all their friends' letters to them directed toWashington. There they had been sent, and there, through somemisunderstanding or neglect, they remained. And though a small mail-bagfull had been written to Frank, this was the reason he had never yetreceived one.
Alas for those missing letters! The lack of them injured Frank moredeeply and lastingly than simply by wounding his heart. For soon thathurt began to heal. He was fast getting used to living without news fromhis family. He consoled himself by entering more fully than he had doneat first into the excitements of the camp. And the sacred influence ofHOME, so potent to solace and to save, even at a distance, was wanting.
And here begins a portion of Frank's history which I would be glad topass over in silence. But, as many boys will probably read this story whoare not altogether superior to temptation, and who do not yet know howeasy it is for even a good-hearted, honest, and generous lad sometimes toforget his mother's lessons and his own promises, and commence that slow,gradual, downward course, which nearly always begins before we are aware,and from which it is then so hard to turn back; and as many may learnfrom his experience, and so save themselves much shame and their friendsmuch anguish, it is better that Frank's history should be related withoutreserve.
In the first place, he learned to smoke. He began by taking a whiff, nowand then, out of the pipe of a comrade, just to be in fashion, and tokeep himself warm those chill evenings and mornings. Then a tobaccoplanter gave him, in return for some polite act on his part, a bunch oftobacco leaves, which Frank, with his usual ingenuity, made up intocigars for himself and friends. The cigars consumed, he obtained moretobacco of some negroes, addicted himself to a pipe, and became a regularsmoker.
Now, I don't mean to say that this, of itself, was a very great sin. Itwas, however, a foolish thing in Frank to form at his age a habit whichmight tyrannize over him for life, and make him in the end, as he himselfonce said to John Winch, "a filthy, tobacco-spitting old man."
But the worst of it was, he had promised his mother he would not smoke.He thought he had a good excuse for breaking his word to her. "I amsure," he said, "if she knew how cold I am sometimes, she wouldn't blameme." Unfortunately, however, when one promise has been broken, and nobodyhurt, another is broken so easily!
Ardent, sympathetic, fond of good-fellowship, Frank caught quickly thespirit of those around him. He loved approbation, and dreaded any thingthat savored of ridicule. He disliked particularly the appellation of"the parson," which John Winch, finding that it annoyed him, used nowwhenever he wished to speak of him injuriously. Others soon fell into thehabit of applying to him the offensive title, without malice indeed, andfor no other reason, I suppose, than that nicknames are the fashion inthe army. To call a man simply by his honest name seems commonplace; butto christen him the "Owl" if his eyes are big, or "Old Tongs" if his legsare long, or "Step-and-fetch-it" if he suffers himself to be made theunderling and cats-paw of his comrades,--that is considered picturesqueand amusing.
Frank would have preferred any of these epithets to the one Winch hadfastened upon him. Perhaps it was to show how little he deserved it,that he made his conduct appear as unclerical as possible--smoking,swaggering, and, I am sorry to add, swearing. Imbibing unconsciously thespirit of his companions, and imitating by degrees their habits andconversation, he became profane before he knew it,--excusing himself onthe plea that every body swore in the army. This was only too near thetruth. Men who had never before indulged in profanity, now frequently letslip a light oath, and thought nothing of it. For it is one of the greatevils of war that men, however refined at home, soon forget themselvesamid the hardships, roughness, and turbulence of a soldier's life. Itseems not only to disguise their persons, but their characters also; sothat those vices which would have shocked them when surrounded by theold social influences appear rather to belong to their new rude, halfbarbarous existence. And we all know the pernicious effect when numbersof one sex associate exclusively together, unblessed by the naturallyrefining influence of the other.
Such being the case with men of years and respectability, we need notwonder that Frank should follow their example. Indeed, from the first, wehad but one strong ground of hope for one so young and susceptible--thathe would remember his pledges to his mother. These violated, the careerof ill begun, where would he end?
Here, however, I should state that Frank never thought, as some boys do,that it is smart and manly to swear. Sometimes we hear a man talk, whomthe vicious habit so controls that he cannot speak without blasphemy.With such, oaths become as necessary a part of speech as articles orprepositions. If deprived of them they are crippled; they seem lost, andcannot express themselves. They are therefore unfit for any society butthat of loafers and brawlers. Such slavery to an idle and foolish customFrank had the sense to detest, even while he himself was coming under itsyoke.
Here, too, before quitting the subject, justice requires us to bearwitness in favor of those distinguished exceptions to the commonprofanity, all the more honorable because they were few. Although,generally speaking, officers and men were addicted to the practice, thelanguage of here and there an officer, and here and there a private,shone like streaks of unsullied snow amid ways of trodden mire. CaptainEdney never swore. Atwater never did. No profane word ever fell from thelips of young Gray. And there were others whose example in this respectwas equally pure.
Fortunately, Frank was kept pretty busy these times; else, with thatuneasy hankering for excitement which possesses unoccupied minds, andthat inclination to mischief which possesses unoccupied hands, he mighthave acquired worse vices.
No doubt some of our young readers will be interested to know what he hadto do. The following were some of his duties:--
At daybreak the _drummer's call_ was beat by the drums of the guard-tent.Frank, though once so profound a sleeper, had learned to wake instantlyat the sound; and, before any of his comrades were astir, he snatched uphis drum, and hurried from the tent. That call was a signal for all thedrummers to assemble before the colors of the regiment, and beat thereveille. Then Frank and his fellow-drummers practised the _double-
quick_for two hours. Then they beat the _breakfast call_. Then they ate theirbreakfast. At eight o'clock they had to turn out again, and beat the_sergeant's call_. At nine o'clock they beat for _guard mounting_. Thenthey practised two hours more at _wheeling_, _double-quick_, _etc_. Theythen beat the _dinner call_. Then they had the pleasure of laying asidethe drumsticks, and taking up the knife and fork once more. After dinnermore _calls_ and similar practice. The time from supper (five o'clock)until the beat for the evening roll-call (at eight), the drummers had tothemselves. After that the men were dismissed for the night, and could goto bed if they chose,--all except the drummers, who must sit up and beatthe _tattoo at nine_. That is the signal for the troops to retire. Thencome the _taps_ (to extinguish lights), beat by each drummer in thecompany, going down the line of tents.
There were other calls besides those mentioned, such as the company_drill call_, the _adjutants call_, to _the color_, _etc._, all of whichwere beat differently; so that, as you see, the drummer boy's situationwas no sinecure.
He found his watch of great assistance to him, in giving him warning ofthe moment to be ready for the stated calls. Although evidently a newwatch, it had been well regulated, and it kept excellent time. The secretdonor of this handsome present was still undiscovered. Sometimes hesuspected the colonel, sometimes Captain Edney; then he surmised that itmust somehow have come to him from home. But all his conjectures andinquiries on the subject were alike in vain; and he enjoyed the exquisitetorment of feeling that he had a lover somewhere who was unknown to him.