USA > Indiana > The Forty-third Regiment of Indiana Volunteers : an historic sketch of its career and services > Part 7
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INDIANA VOLUNTEERS.
the bluff; and we knew they would be ready to receive ns with open arms if we landed below the mouth of the stream mentioned. Our oarsmen were equal to the occasion. They literally "bent to their oars," and by almost super- human efforts they succeeded in getting into the timber above the mouth of the stream, and we were safe, though our troubles were not yet over.
We had expected to find comparatively still water along the edge of the timber; but there was quite a current there, and we were compelled to take to the woods; and, as the oars could not be used, the only way we could make pro- gress was by pulling ourselves up stream by underbrush and trees for some distance. It was getting dusk when we entered the woods and soon grew quite dark. The next few hours are not pleasant to remember. I never was fully acquainted with the mosquito and his rapacity until that night. After a while, the wind having subsided, we were able to come out of the timber and row along its edge. I will not undertake to say how far we went up the river, but it seemed several miles. We could see the lights o11 the gun-boats and on our transports as we passed, but we still kept on. Our experience had taught us that in order to cross the river we needed abundance of lee-way. When we got so far above the lights of our boats that our oarsmen believed they could "make the riffle," we turned the bow of the yawl toward home, guided by the lights.
Except that we were hailed by a gun-boat, and required to go on board and explain ourselves, we arrived safely late at night. Our friends had grown quite uneasy, and were agreeably surprised at our coming. The Captain of the steamer was the happiest of all. We were told that he had spent the night in cursing his luck and bemoaning the loss of his yawl.
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I regret not being able to give the names of the soldiers who served as oarsinen on the occasion of this advent- ure. To their heroic efforts I believe we owe our es- cape.
PAY DAY.
We received our first pay on board our boats at Moore's Landing. The paymaster had nothing less than one dollar bills, except three cent pieces; and every soldier took a lot of those diminutive coins. As nothing could be bought at Moore's Landing outside of the sutler's stand, the soldier had no other use for his money than to invest it in poker. The three cent pieces were used as chips, and a three cent piece was the usual ante. The men played so persistently that even at this small ante the specie soon began to gravi- tate to and settle in the possession of a few fortunate indi- viduals, who could produce a hat-full of the coins if occa- sion offered for a good investment.
Poker playing served as an amusing past-time till the chips all disappeared, when it ceased to be a "fad" among the men; and the games were again confined to the "regu- lars," who played before pay day and continued to play during their term of service.
MEMPHIS.
Immediately after the abandonment of Fort Pillow, Com- inodore Davis proceeded with his gun-boats down the river to Memphis, where he had another lively fight and gained another signal victory. The way being cleared, we bid farewell to Moore's Landing, following the gun-boats to Memphis, and ours were the first Union troops to enter the place. Memphis was then a pretty town, and is now a beautiful and thriving city.
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We went into camp east of the town and remained there for some weeks, though part of our regiment took part in an expedition down the river, an account of which is given elsewhere in this book.
HELENA.
From Memphis the 43d and several other regiments took boats and moved down the river to Helena, Arkansas. We made Helena our home for more than a year; but the regi- ment, or parts of it, took part in frequent expeditions both by land and water. On one occasion a fleet of twenty-five or thirty transports went up White River, of which expedi- tion the 43d formed a part. We made a march to Claren- don on White River and back. We once went down the river to Friar's Point, and thence marched down through Mississippi, intending, as we understood it, to co-operate with troops about Vicksburg; but when we got as far as Coldwater the flooded condition of the country and high waters turned us back, and we returned to Helena. The Coldwater expedition was not a pleasant one. The roads were terrific and rations short. There were strict orders against foraging; and many were the tricks resorted to by the boys to avoid these orders and replenish their larders, one or two of which I will mention.
COMING IN UNDER GUARD.
If you kept your eyes open while on the march, you would see a soldier hand his gun to a comrade and drop out of the ranks. This would occur about the middle of the afternoon; and later you would see two soldiers drop out of the same company with their guns. If you followed up your investigations until the troops went into camp, you might see three soldiers approach the guard line. One of
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these soldiers would probably be carrying a pig, a sheep, chickens, or some other article of food. You would at once recognize this soldier as the one who dropped out of the ranks without his gun: the other two would be seen to be the two soldiers who left the ranks of the same company with their guns. When halted at the guard line, the two with guns say they are guards who have captured a forager and are taking him to head-quarters. Of course they are permitted to pass the line with their prisoner. They wan- der about hunting head-quarters, until they find their own company quarters, when all three suddenly vanish from sight; and the savory odor of cooking fresh meat or poultry will soon be detected as coming from a point not far from where the guards and their prisoner disap- peared.
CAPTURING HONEY.
One day while riding at the rear of the column, I saw a number of cavalry-men in the front yard of a rather preten- tious residence, seeming to be having a lot of fun. Upon closer inspection, by a number of us, we found that a large piano had been brought from the house; and a cavalry-man was trying to make his horse play the instrument with his fore feet. While we were watching this uncalled for and forbidden piece of vandalism, there was a sudden commo- tion among the horsemen. It seemed that several hives of bees were located in the rear of the mansion, and the hives were simply sections of a hollow tree-a bee gum -. Some of the boys had found these bees and of course wanted the honey. Each grabbed a bee gum, put it on his shoulders and started around the house on a run, the bees streaming out behind and making a bee line for their old home. As the bee hunters ran right through a squad of cavalry men, the effect may be imagined; such rearing, kicking, plung-
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ing, squealing, cursing and swearing is seldom heard, while those who caused the trouble having ran till the hives were emptied of bees, quietly appropriated the honey at their leisure, without having received a single sting.
BUSH-WHACKERS.
While at Helena it was very difficult to prevent reckless risks being taken by the men to gratify their curiosity and love of adventure. Bushwhackers continually roamed about on the east side of the river in Mississippi; while we were there, and this was well known; and yet, despite the strictest orders, men would manage to cross over the river in dug-outs, canoes or skiffs for the purpose of foraging in Mississippi. I saw several of our own boys brought back to camp dead: shot by bush-whakers. It was a sad thing to look upon the face of these dead comrades knowing that they were the victims of their own recklessness. One of the most painful duties that devolved upon me at Helena, was to write a letter to the mother of Johnny R-, who lived in Greencastle, notifying her of the death of her son; but withholding the fact that he was murdered while dis- obeying orders.
REGIMENTAL CHARACTERS.
Every regiment doubtless had its "characters," who were looked upon as necessary adjuncts, and who were expected, in various ways, to provide the regiment with more or less diversion and amusement; and the 43d was not without its characters. . I have already mentioned Will Grogan, our bugler, always ready for duty and a never failing source from which could be drawn droll wit and humor at pleasure. Among those I recall as being one of our characters, is
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SAM DEVORE.
Sam was not particularly distinguished as a soldier. He had been a tailor at home; and, by common consent, had been installed as a sort of regimental tailor whose duty it was to repair clothing, sew on buttons, etc. He had his shop in a special tent; and took great delight in dispensing bits of quaint philosophy to visitors and patrons.
I remember on one occasion when several officers were about to start home on "leave," Sam called me into his tent to say:
"Jim, if I had known that officers could go home when- ever they pleased, d -- d if I wouldn't have been one."
At another time Sam disclosed to me the secret of how to avoid being injured by bomb shells.
"Just watch till you see one strike the ground," said Sam, "then go and sit down in the hole it makes and you're safe. The d-d things never strike twice in the same place."
I have never heard of Sam "since the war," but hope he may be living and doing well.
DRESSSING UP RIGHT.
I have heretofore mentioned Jim -- , as having given General Pope valuable information as to the 43d at Ruddle's Point. He was another one of our characters.
Jim was noted for his utter aversion to soap and water, and his general slovenliness. He was on duty one day in front of Gen. Gorman's headquarters. As usual his shoes were muddy, his hair uncombed, face dirty, clothing ill-fit- ting and wrinkled, as if they had fallen on him and stuck. While Jim was walking back and forth on his beat the General came out. Jim was not lacking in his knowledge of a soldier's duties, and lie promptly assumed the proper
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position and gave the proper salute. The General, in re- turning the salute, looked at Jim from head to foot, then stepping in front of him a colloquy occured something like this.
Gen. "What regiment do you belong to?"
Jim. "The Forty-third Indiana."
Gen. "Why don't you blacken those shoes?"
Jim. "I hain't got no blackin'."
Gen. "Why don't you buy blacking ?"
Jim. "I hain't got any money."
The General seemed to accept this as a sufficient excuse ; and, reaching in his vest pocket, he took out a ten cent "shin-plaster," handed it to Jim, saying :
"Now sir, as soon as you are relieved go and get a box of blacking, borrow a brush, and black your shoes. Don't you come on duty again looking like that."
The general turned away.
"Thank you," says Jim, "but, say General, if you'll give me five cents more, I'll get one of these d-d paper collars, and dress up right."
The General made no reply, but handed Jim the required amount and walked on. When Jim next appeared in front of headquarters, his cleanliness created a sensation among his comrades, and could not be accounted for by them. This truthful statement will explain the mystery. I regret to say that Jim's reform in dress and cleanliness did not prove permanent.
ANOTHER SWEEP.
Bill G- might be classed as a "character." As a punishment for going to town and remaining there indefi- nitely, without leave, his Captain had required William to sweep the entire quarters. A few days after the sweeping was done, I met Bill up town, enjoying himself. He asked
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me as a favor, that when I returned to camp, I would call on "the old man" (the Captain), and tell him that he had concluded to remain in town another day and take another sweep. Which he did.
UNEXPECTED COMPETITION.
For a time, instead of having an established "canteen," where beer could be obtained, it was the custom for the officer in command of the regiment to designate one man, who was granted a permit to sell beer to his comrades for a specified time stated in the permit, and at the end of which time another was named for the same length of time, thus distributing the chance of making profit out of the privilege among the men. The franchise was regarded as a valuable one, and was much sought after.
On one occasion Joe M. was the licensed dispenser of the amber fluid ; and, having procured a barrel of beer from a steamboat recently arrived, he set it up iii the rear of his tent, tapped it and proceeded to business,, selling his beer at ten cents per glass. Along in the afternoon Joe waited upon a customer, who objected to paying the price, saying that he had just bought a glass at another establishment for five cents. Joe fired up at once, denying the statement, and offering to give the person making it five dollars if he would show him where beer could be obtained in that camp at five cents, or any other price, as he had the exclusive privilege. "Come with me," said the man ; and he took Joe around the tent, where it was found that an enterpris- ing individual had cut through the canvas and tapped the other end of the barrel, and was doing a thriving and profitable business selling Joe's beer at half price. Joe wilted and paid the five dollars, but that end of the beer saloon was suddenly and effectively closed.
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AN EXPENSIVE LUXURY.
It must be conceded that in the absence of home restric tions many soldiers became somewhat lax in their morals ; and when they wanted money would resort to tricks and devices that were not taught to them in their Sunday-schools or family circles, to supply their wants. Coffee was a lux- ury that had become practically unknown in that part of the southi, and there was nothing in the possession of the natives that would not be sacrificed in exchange for it. Rations of unground roasted coffee, of a good quality were issued to the soldiers almost daily. It may be here stated that. strange as it may appear, some of the inhabitants, even colored ones, had money, some gold, some silver, and occasionally "green-backs." The boys were not averse to pandering to their appetites for coffee in exchange for this money. So a company or "mess" would chib together and pool their rations of coffee, which they would put in a camp kettle with water and boil till all the strength was boiled out of it ; then they would take out the grains of coffee and spread them upon a tent cloth to dry. While the "juice" thus extracted would be retained for home consumption, the dried coffee beans would be sold to eager citizens at a dollar per pound. Such violations of the code of good morals were winked at by officers and men alike, and the victims were without redress.
A TRANSACTION IN WHISKY.
While, as stated, men would resort to doubtful methods to obtain money, there were those who would go even far- ther to procure whisky, which they were not permitted to buy. At Helena a large frame ware-house had been erect- ed for the storing of supplies received by boat. The build- ing stood near the river bank and was placed on piles to
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avoid high water, leaving an open space of three or four feet in height under the structure. When a boat loaded with supplies arrived men were detailed from the several regiments to assist in unloading and taking care of the goods. On one occasion the Commissary among other things, received several barrels of whisky, which were rolled into the warehouse and set on end. Subsequent events showed that at least one of the detail who assisted in unloading and storing that particular invoice of goods, was up to snuff and had taken some measurements that enabled him to locate those barrels from underneath the building; for on that night a hole was bored from below. through the floor, and into one of these barrels, and its entire contents were slowly transferred from the barrel to camp kettles, mess pans, and canteens, beneath the floor, and carried away.
The perpetrators of the theft were never discovered, and the affair was regarded as a joke on the Commissary, who probably squared his shortage by reporting the whisky as "captured."
"SEWED OR PEGGED."
While at Helena we received an invoice of shoes for dis- tribution among the men, part of which were sewed and part pegged. The sewed slioes were a novelty; and opin- ions differed widely as to the relative merits of the two kinds of foot-wear, causing frequent heated discussions. Wherever the men got together one could hear the "sewed" or "pegged" adhierents vociferously contending for the respective claims of superiority of their favorite shoe. This brings me to my story :
Jake D- had been sick for some time; but instead of sending him to the hospital, his comrades had nursed him through to convalescence. One bright morning the boys
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carried Jake out on his cot and placed him in the shade of a tree, and then went off on their various duties, leaving Jake to enjoy the refreshing air. Near the camp an old woman lived, who was in the habit of bringing pies, cakes and dough-nuts into camp for sale. On making her way through camp on this particular morning, the old woman passed near Jake's resting place. He was getting an appe- tite, and of course wanted to eat everything he ought not to eat. Seeing the old woman, whose wares he had fre- quently bought, he hailed her:
"Hello! Aunty. What have you got to-day?"
"Nice pies and cakes, just baked," said she.
"Are your pies sewed or pegged?," inquired Jake.
The boys who tested the consistency and tenacity of the old woman's pie crust, and remember it, will appreciate the aptness of the question.
THE CONTRABAND.
Our camps at Helena were over-run with "contrabands" of every shade of color and character, who flocked in from Mississippi and Arkansas plantations, anxious to do any- thing for the soldiers that would place them under the pro- tection of the stars and stripes. Their usual ambition was to take care of horses, or cook and wash for officers and men; and many of them were employed in every regi- ment in one or the other of these capacities.
In some way or other I gained an unenviable reputation among the colored contingent as a letter writer, and I was constantly being appealed to by them to write letters for them to their friends at "de ole home." Some of the applicants would dictate their own communications; and, in many instances, when the letters were finished, there would be found running through them a vein of uncouth, homely pathos that was touching.
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LOVE LETTERS.
Every youthful contraband seemed to have left behind him one or more sweet-hearts, and I was frequently called upon to place on paper the pent up love of these roaming Romeos for the dusky Juliets left behind. I never trifled with the feelings of the older contrabands by converting their seriously intended communications to their relatives, into burlesque; but when I sat down to write a love letter, it was different. The only instructions I would receive would be: "Make it hot;" and I was otherwise left "fancy free."
I remember one bright mulatto fellow named Ned, for whom I wrote several love letters. On one occasion, being in somewhat humorous mood and having abundance of time, I "spread myself" for Ned's benefit, and indulged in the "highfalutin' " style and produced something like this: "My own, dearest, dear Chloe:
"Your most exquisitely tender and superlatively affec- tionate epistle was handed me by your messenger at the earliest opportunity after liis arrival in camp. I clasped the missive to my palpitating heart, after pressing it to my burning lips, and proceeded in haste to the gentleman in charge of our transportation, known in regimental archives as the "wagon master," who kindly consented to unfold to mne the delicious contents of your afore mentioned epistle.
"Owing to a concatenation of unfortuitous circumstances, beyond my control, and on account of the sine functional indications of the pusindifemic timedex, now prevailing wherever the star spangled banner is wafted to the breeze, I have been unable to concentrate my thoughts sufficiently to be able to dictate to my amanuensis the sentiments of unmitigated love that are seething and rushing through my throbbing heart, until the present auspicious moment."
Imagine half a dozen pages of such nonsensical stuff,
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closed with equally nonsensical doggerel, and you will have an idea of this letter. I have not given the portion rement- bered with any intention that it shall be used as a model, but only that the sequel may be better understood. Ned, as did all my patrons, insisted on having the letter stamped, though there was no post office within fifty miles of its des- tination-a plantation over in Mississippi. I have often wondered how these contrabands managed to communicate with their friends. I know they did so constantly, but I never knew how it was done. Well, Ned took his letter, duly stamped with an old cancelled postage stamp I hunted up, and I heard no more from him for two or three weeks. One day Ned came in with a smile on his countenance, with his hat in his hand, bowing and scraping with great polite- ness. I enquired what he wanted.
"Massa Jeems," said Ned, "I jist wants you to write dat gal one more letter. One more'll fetch her suah. De folks ober dalı neber seed sich a letter as dat. Fore God, dey had to send six mile to git a man to read dat letter."
I wrote the desired letter, but whether it "fetched her" or not, I never learned.
I spent a good deal of time writing letters for the poor contrabands; but I was amply repaid by the manifest plea- sure and gratitude with which the favors were received, to say nothing of the fun derived from it.
BOARD OF SURVEY.
It is provided in the army regulations, that if a Commis- sary finds that any rations on hands are not, for any reason, up to the standard, lie shall call a Board of Survey, consist- ing, I believe, of three officers, who shall examine the damn- aged article, fix the per cent. of damage, and condemn it to that extent.
Our Commissary had on hand a lot of bacon that was
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complained of; and a Board of Survey was called, that con- demned the bacon to the extent of fifty per cent. The re- sult was an issue of double rations of bacon. The absurdity of the proceeding was expressed by one of the boys. "That's a lı-11 of an idea," said he, "because the bacon is spoiled, they make us eat twice as much of it."
My recollection is that the report of the Board of Survey was amended, and the bacon was sold for soap grease.
A SPELLING LESSON.
One of our Captains, who was an excellent officer, was, like many good officers and soldiers, a little "off" on ortho- graphy. One day Will G-, already mentioned, was sit- ting in front of this Captain's head-quarters, when the Cap- tain, who was engaged in making out a requisition for clothing inside, came to the door and seeing Will there said :
"William, how do you spell socks?"
"Captain," said Will, straightening himself up, "Socks is a word of two syllables. Yow spell it, s-o-c-k, sock, -s, socks."
The information was satisfactory. The Captain retired and William resumed his seat.
FRESH BACON.
We usually received bacon in large hogslieads or tierces, weighing from six hundred pounds to twelve hundred pounds. This bacon was packed by a man whose initials were B. C., and on one end of each hogshead was stamped its weight, followed by the initials of the packer.
On one occasion a Sergeant came to the Commissary with a detail of 111e1 to get his company's rations of bacon. There were several hogsheads in stock, and the person in
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charge told the men to open one of them. The men com- menced to open one marked "1145 B. C."
"Hold on," said the Sergeant, "Don't open that. That was packed 1145 years before Christ. Here, open this one. It was packed only 736 B. C. We want bacon as fresh as we can get it."
"JOE BOWERS."
There was one man in the 43d, who was enlisted as Joseph Brown. Joe was never found wanting in his duties as a soldier, and never refused to do his full share in the way of entertaining others. He had a splendid voice and an inex- haustible repertoire of songs. One of his favorites, and the one most called for by his audience, was "Joe Bowers", of which I can yet repeat the first verse:
"My name it is Joe Bowers, I have a brother Ike. I'm just from old Missouri, And all the way from Pike. I'll tell you why I left there, And how I came to roam, And leave my poor old mother, So far away from home."
The song proceeded to tell how Joe left home at the in- stance of his sweetheart, "Sallie Black", to seek a fortune that would enable him to get "a little home to keep his little wife." How he landed in California dead broke, but managed to get together "his shovels and his picks," and "went down among the boulders just like a thousand bricks " There was a red headed butcher back in Mis- souri, who was somewhat stuck on Sallie ; and recollections of that butcher gave Joe a great deal of uneasiness. Final- ly, Joe's troubles culminated in the reception of a letter from his "dear brother Ike," which, after giving the family and neighborhood news, conveyed to Joe the "heart-rend-
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