WAR REMINISCENCES CHAPTER 31

 

Capt. William Saxton, Company C, 157th Regiment, New York Volunteers.

Cortland Evening Standard, Saturday, August 15, 1903.

WAR REMINISCENCES.

By Captain Saxton of the 157th Regiment, N. Y. Vols.

CHARACTERS OF THE COMPANY.

Difficulties of the Commissary Department—Scarcity Of Vegetables—Substitutes for Fresh Meat—"Consecrated" Potatoes—Lack of Reading Matter—Letters—The Company Postmaster.

CHAPTER 31.

   To the Editor of The Standard:

   Sir—Thomas Reagan was the oldest man in Company C. On the muster rolls his name is recorded as forty-three at the time of enlisting. At a reunion of the One Hundred and Fifty-seventh New York regimental association in 1890 be told Capt. George L. Warren, the secretary of the association, that he was then 87 years old and that when he enlisted he was 60. He came to this country from Ireland when he was 32. He was one of those short, thick-set, jolly Irishmen who could deceive the very elect in regard to age.

   Thomas Reagan had a good berth, being almost always in the regimental quartermaster's department, and a more faithful man could not have been found. St Patrick's day in the morning was never forgotten by him, and on that day the quartermaster was blind so far as seeing what "Uncle Tommy" did.

   "Company C fall in for fresh salt," was a familiar cry of his, as he would come on the company street, and every member of the regiment came to know "Uncle Tommy." He died a few years ago, an old man and full of years.

"The Bull Breaker."

   Christian Chevalier was another character of Company C, who will never be forgotten. He was a large, heavy-set man with black hair and eyes and enrolled as 37 years old. He was a regular backwoods man, and had put in all his days clearing and working a little land with a yoke of oxen. He liked whiskey as well as a duck does water. I can see "Old Chris" now about two-thirds full, strut up to the colonel and with his brawny fist beat his chest like a bass drum and say: "Col. Carmichael, this is Christopher Columbus Chevalier, the champion bull breaker of Cortland county." I never knew the colonel to take offense at this liberty; but would generally brush "Old Chris" aside and try to find where he got his liquor. When not drinking, Chevalier was a good soldier, but the drink habit grew on him and be developed a mania for finding whiskey, seemingly at all times and places.

   The hardships of the service and the poor whiskey were too much for poor Chris, and not many years after he came home, during one of his sprees he hanged himself with a log-chain.

The Three Smiths.

   We had three men by the name of Smith belonging to our company, Henry A. Smith, John P. Smith and John Smith. The orderly sergeant, in calling the roll would say: Smith one, Smith two, Smith three. John P. and John were both over six feet tall. The boys designated them as John P. and Long John.

   Long John always marched at the head of the company, and I do not know of a better man to fill his place. He was 23 years old, about 6ft. 2in. [sic] in his stockings, light complexion, light hair and blue eyes, a little inclined to stoop at the shoulders. Always jolly and good natured, and many a time when the boys were marching, weary, worn and cross, Long John would strike up a favorite song of his beginning: "Well do I remember, when but a little boy." Soon the discordant elements in the company would cease and all would march along cheerful and refreshed.

   Long John was always cheerful. He took a common sense view of things and made the best of unpleasant circumstances. He was always loyal to his officers and company and one of the best men I ever knew to assist the company commander in keeping the boys cheerful and help smooth the rough places.

   Poor John at Gettysburg was severely wounded, and was sent to a hospital in Philadelphia, but one night he became delirious, arose from his cot unknown to attendants, tore off the bandages from his wounds and bled to death.

   The government had other things of great importance to look after besides the Confederate army. One of the most essential things was the health of its troops.

The Commissary Department.

   The utter impossibility of transporting vegetables, such as potatoes, cabbages, onions, etc., in bulk in their season, as well as their perishable nature, prevented, to any great extent, the use of these necessary anti-scorbutic articles of food among our vast army.

   One who has never seen the almost innumerable number of wagons and teams that it takes to supply the daily needs of such a vast host, can hardly form an idea of the number of miles of roads that these immense trains must necessarily cover, Stop and think for a moment the requirements of one company of 100 men for a single day, then multiply that by ten for a regiment, then multiply that by two hundred and fifty for 250,000 men, then multiply that by thirty for thirty days. Then think of the ammunition of the camp and garrison equipage, the extra clothing, and the almost innumerable paraphernalia of a great army and you will begin to have a faint idea of the vastness of the requirements of the transportation department of such an army as the Army of the Potomac.

   You can readily see that vegetables in bulk of necessity must be almost entirely eliminated from the soldier's ration in the field.

Experiments With Pack Mules.

   The government tried an experiment in transportation in the Chancellorsville campaign by employing pack mules to convey the reserve ammunition. It was thought that this would an enormous train of wagons to take across the river, and the mules could be brought up almost to the firing line, whether in woods or on ground inaccessible to wagons, it would be far more convenient; but I think the stampede of those mules at Hazel  Grove on Saturday, May 2, demonstrated that under some circumstances the pack mule was a good thing, but a large number of them thoroughly stampeded, possessed a power that might demoralize an army, and neutralize the efficiency of a large number of troops.

   The constant use of salt meats and hard bread, with scarcely any vegetables had a great tendency to produce scurvy or at least its symptoms.

   I remembered how we craved something sour to eat. The vinegar that was issued to us was a chemically prepared article and one would almost need his stomach lined with glass if he took any quantity of it for it seemed as though it would eat a hole clear through.

   I remembered one time of seeing a small can of pineapples in the sutler's tent, probably a pound can, and when pay day came I planked down a good dollar for it, sat down and ate the whole of it without stopping. It seemed as though it was just the thing I craved and I never felt any bad effects from eating the contents of that can. It was better than doctor's medicine and may have prevented a spell of sickness.

"Consecrated" Potatoes.

   The government tried several experiments to overcome this tendency to scurvy; one was issuing desiccated potatoes and desiccated mixed vegetables. After once trying to eat this vile compound the boys forever after called it "Consecrated Potatoes" and ''Consecrated Mixed Vegetables.'' I suppose every old soldier will at once close the paper and refuse to read further at the mere mention of desiccated mixed vegetables. The old feeling of nausea will come back to him so forcibly that be will be compelled to read this (if he does so) a sentence at a time, with an interval of seeking fresh air.

   Webster says desiccate is to make dry, Desiccated mixed vegetables appeared to be cabbage leaves, pumpkin rinds, turnip tops, onions, tops and all, potatoes, carrots, red peppers, parsnips, cucumbers, all coarsely chopped and mixed and then thrown into a silo, allowed to ferment, then placed under enormous pressure and the liquid all pressed out of it (this was the appearance). This was issued to us in solid cakes.

   Now take one of those camp kettles, in which coffee, salt pork, "Sow Belly" beans and what had not been boiled, put in a chunk of this stuff, fill the kettle with water and put it on to boil.

   I suppose if our good wives had some of this compound they might possibly by some magic art, with plenty of flour, butter and seasoning, convert this into something that might be eaten; but the company cook, supplied with the old "general utility" camp kettle, combined with his best culinary skill was able to produce a concoction that would turn the stomach of a hog. I never met an old soldier yet, after once tasting this "mess of pottage," who was not perfectly willing for the rest of his mortal life to set this vile compound apart as a "consecrated" ration.

   There was another experiment tried on us in the way of rations which also proved a failure, and that was "split peas." I have yet to meet the old soldier that ever took his second cup full. The company cook with his old camp kettle absolutely could not produce split peas that the boys would eat, and that is saying a good deal.

Nature Assists.

   What a blessed thing it is that nature always comes to the rescue. She did in this case. She helped the government solve the scurvy question. Hard crackers were about the size of soda crackers and were packed in light wooden boxes. These had to be accumulated in enormous quantities at the depot of supplies. These were stacked out doors [sic] in a pile that would surprise the ordinary citizen.

   There was a reddish yellow worm that would have been a good object lesson to some of our generals, if they had heeded it, in the way of being enterprising. This fellow, from a half to an inch long, was the most enterprising little fellow I have ever met. What mattered though the stack of cracker boxes was as high as the pyramids of Egypt? What though the base of that pile was as broad as the base of the Washington monument? He was there just the same, in every individual box and in every individual cracker. Was it he that branded those crackers "B. C."? The boys used to boast that there was no government on earth so generous as ours, who furnished their beloved soldiers with sandwiches each meal, (Fresh meat was an antidote for scurvy and that is where nature comes in).

   There was another inhabitant of those crackers that should not be overlooked even if he was small and that was a tiny reddish brown bug, and there were hundreds of him. Did you ever have an old soldier sit down to your table and when crackers were served take one and unthoughtedly [sic] rap it a few times on the edge of his plate? Be charitable to the old soldier. This is a clinging habit of his, born in the sixties; which he without thinking automatically performs.

Dearth of Reading Matter.

   When in camp the soldiers felt the lack of good reading matter. Had our friends in the North realized this our camp would have been flooded. The fact of our not knowing at what moment we might be ordered to move prevented books to any considerable extent being furnished.

   I remember by speaking quite a ways in advance of getting hold of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables" in pamphlet form, and I could hardly lay it down till read through, even for drill or camp duty.

   Some vicious fellow surreptitiously would smuggle in bad books and pictures. It is wonderful how ingenious the devil is in promulgating and disseminating any thing that is of evil.

   Most soldiers wrote a great many letters to friends and acquaintances for the sake of, not only writing to them, but for the replies that would come. One can hardly imagine how eagerly the boys received a letter.

   When time permitted besides writing to our friends we would write to acquaintances, especially lady friends. I had a good many such correspondents and took great pleasure in writing and receiving replies. These letters did the soldiers a wonderful amount of good. All of them (mine at least) were full of encouragement, patriotism and remembrances. No doubt we did our duty more cheerfully and endured the hardships more patiently by these cherished letters.

   One of my most faithful correspondents was my sister Nancy. I think she wrote me once a week, and some times several times a week. It was a nice custom of some of our correspondents to enclose a blank sheet of paper and envelope for a reply, as paper was sometimes difficult to obtain.

   I carried a flat sided rubber inkstand, the top screwing on and off. Leroy Cole carved my name, company and regiment nicely on the side of it. I carried it all through [the war] with me.

   When in Syracuse, New York, Aug. 1, 1865, while being paid off and disbanding, Lieutenant Hubbard Suits borrowed this little ink stand of me for the use of his men in signing the papers and forgot to return it. Had I it now I should prize it as highly as any of my little relies of the war.

The Company Postmaster.

   There was a man in our regiment detailed to have charge of the mail and carry it to and from headquarters, A. W. Connelly, if I remember rightly. He generally hung up a sack at the adjutant's tent or convenient place for all to deposit their letters.

   When the mail was brought to Corps headquarters it was separated and sent to different divisions. There it was reassorted and sent to the various brigades. Then our postmaster was on hand to get what was coming to the One Hundred and Fifty-seventh. He brought it to the adjutant's tent and separated it for the different companies. An officer or "non com" took it to the company street and called out: "Fall in for your mail" and read off the names of the fortunate ones. Then what a time there would be reading those missives and talking about them.

   It became difficult to procure postage stamps and the government allowed the soldiers to send their letters without a stamp by an officer certifying it was a soldier's letter. The postage would be collected at the other end of the receiver when delivered. W. S.