Читать книгу Recollections with the Third Iowa Regiment - Seymour D. Thompson - Страница 4

Table of Contents

The "uprising" in Iowa—Patriotism of the people—The Third Regiment, its character and composition—Spirit and ideas of its members—Our Colonel—Our visit to Camp Ellsworth, and the First Iowa—The Second and First Iowa advance into Missouri—Our quarters—Our ideas of our treatment—Poor fare, and what some of us "did about it"—Our duties—Complaints about pay—Our arms—We go into camp—Our first experience—We chafe exceedingly under the yoke of discipline—Marching orders.

When at the commencement of the war the loyal States vied with each other in offers of men and money to the Government, Iowa, in proportion to her population and resources, was not behind any of her sisters. The First Regiment of Infantry, the quota of the State under the call for three months men, was promptly formed, and sent to the designated rendezvous. But the people wanted to do more than this. Companies were formed in all parts of the State. Thousands of names were enrolled. It was not the question who should be permitted to stay at home, but who should have the privilege of going. The eagerness with which the claims to acceptance of so many different companies were pressed upon the Governor, must have been a source of great embarrassment to him.

The interval between the first and second call for troops was to many who had tendered their services, unsuccessfully, a period of unpleasant and unprofitable suspense; for it was a matter of uncertainty to all, whether the services of any more troops would be required. And who could tell? The rebellion was so entirely without a precedent in our history, that the most far-seeing could not say whether it was a short-lived insurrection that could be frightened to death by military preparation, or a movement strong in its organization and formidable in its proportions.

But this period was, nevertheless, one of preparation. Men were settling their affairs, and preparing for the contingency which might call them from their homes. At length, a call was made for an additional number of troops to serve for three years, unless sooner discharged. This altered the plans of many who thought to enlist merely for honor and a little adventure. The prospect was now that they would have decidedly too much of both. Nevertheless, the supply of men greatly exceeded the demand. None who had enlisted with worthy motives were disposed to shrink from the prospect.

Under this call the Second Regiment was organized; and the unsuccessful candidates still waited in hope and doubt. Finally, in the last days of May, the companies which were to compose the Third Regiment received orders, to their great joy, to repair to the designated rendezvous, and by the close of the first week in June, they were assembled in Keokuk.

Though comrades now, its members were, for the most part, strangers to each other. It belonged to no section, but rather to the State at large. The northern, central and southern portions were represented. In point of material it was a mixture of such elements as a border State would be likely to furnish. There were among us men of almost every State in the Union, and of almost every civilized country. Nearly all, however, were Western men either by birth or long residence, and were (is it boasting to say it?) tempered with that hardy, resolute spirit which is characteristic of Western men, especially of those who dwell on the frontier. The greater portion were from the rural districts, and trained to active, out-door pursuits. Those who were from the towns were for the most part river men. If there were among us any of "the drooping city's pale abortions," they soon learned to imitate the rough virtues of their comrades.

In point of ideas, there was as great a difference as of birth or nationality. It is claiming nothing to say that money had not entered into the calculations of those who first tendered their services to their country. The one great thought was the preservation of the Union. But such was the constitution of our ideas, that we saw in the accomplishment of this object ulterior results widely different. Each loved the Union for what it was to him. To the Irishman, it was an asylum where he could enjoy that civil liberty, and exemption from the oppression of an established church, which had been denied him at home. He proposed to fight now for the preservation of that liberty. He saw in the destruction of the Union an invitation to the ambitious monarchs of Europe to fetter us with such chains as bound his own unhappy country. This was why he had enlisted.

To the Englishman in our ranks, America was now his country. It was to be the dwelling-place of his children. It promised more than any other to promote the peace and happiness of its people, and the progress of civilization. It was a branch of that great Saxon tree, which, continually spreading, already overshadowed the earth. Should it fall into the whirlpool of Gallic anarchy? Should it degenerate into a contemptible Mexican civilization? God forbid. He was ready to defend it with his blood.

We had among us the poetical, Heaven-ascending German. He proposed to fight for an ideal. That ideal was liberty. It was to him the symbol of progress, the talisman which was to lift man from earth to Heaven. He saw in the rebellion a reactionary movement, a tendency from democracy to aristocracy—from the power of the people to the one man power; a repudiation of the doctrine on which the Republic was founded;—nay, more, an attempt to found a Government on a maxim of absolute injustice, the assumption that one man has the right to own another. Could such a movement succeed? Was progress baffled? Had the age begun to retreat? He proposed to fight, not for the unity of the nation alone, not alone because it was now his country, but for that principle of liberty which he saw, more fully than anywhere else embodied in her institutions—that democratic principle which is destined one day to be the foundation of all human government.

But the great majority were native Americans, coming, immediately or remotely, from every section of the Union, with various ties and various ideas. They combined all these motives and ideas, and more. To vindicate the national honor; to avenge the insults done the flag; to overthrow all traitors and bring them to swift punishment; to save the nation from disintegration and ruin;—this was why they proposed to fight. Their country was too dear an inheritance to be easily given up. Had the Fathers fought in vain? Had Washington, Madison and Jefferson lived to organize anarchy and confound the world? Had it taken the wisdom and blood of a generation to found and build a temple which treason could tear down in an hour? Was the reason of the ages to be contradicted? Was justice to be overthrown? Was Progress to stop here? Must the Lamp of Liberty which had been lighted to guide the footsteps of the nations go out in the gloom which was gathering around us? Such were the questions we asked ourselves. As far as we could do, our deeds have answered them.

Thus of whatever section, of whatever country, with whatever ideas, we had now joined hands and were comrades—all moving toward one grand, patriotic holy object, the preservation of our country and of liberty.

And now looking around us, we saw everywhere matter for encouragement. Every omen seemed propitious. Every circumstance argued success. The North was united. There was no party now. At worst, we could but suppose the South likewise united against us. In that case we were twenty millions; they eight millions. We had a navy; they had none. We could blockade their ports, and cut off their supplies from foreign nations. We possessed manufactures, and means of keeping up our material. In this respect they were almost entirely deficient. We possessed a variety of resources which rendered our government self-sustaining in the most adverse events. They depended solely upon cotton, which now they would not be able to sell. And then their servile population, we supposed, instead of being a help, would be a great embarrassment. Besides, were we not engaged in a just cause? and would not, then, this great disparity in our favor enable us speedily to overcome them? With such strength, fortified in right, it seemed impossible that a single reverse could come upon us. Our enthusiasm, as yet untempered by disappointment or disaster, was unbounded. The future seemed full of glorious events, and we longed to be hurried into it. We had but one desire—to be uniformed, equipped and led on.

For a leader we wanted a man, who, while possessing some knowledge of military affairs, should have none of the exclusive spirit we understood to exist among the officers of the regular army. To suit our tastes, he must be at once commander and comrade. Such a colonel we were prepared to respect—to idolize. Who was he to be? It was understood that Captain Herron and Congressman Vandever were candidates. We disliked the Captain, because he had been to a military school, and the Congressman, because he had never been to one; it was evident, we would be hard to suit. But it soon became apparent that, want whom we would, our wishes would not govern the appointment. Governor Kirkwood desired to consult only the wishes of the officers in the matter. There was a man, Nelson G. Williams, of Delaware county, whose claims to the colonelcy of one of the first regiments his friends, through the press and otherwise, had urged with great pertinacity. It was said that he was a military man, and yet a private citizen, and not a politician. Many had spoken in favor of him; no one against him. He was the man. It was determined to call this Cincinnatus from his obscurity. In a caucus of the commissioned officers he received nineteen votes, and, on the strength of this nomination, was appointed.

We were mustered into the service of the United States by Lieut. Alexander Chambers, of the regular army, since colonel of the 16th Iowa. Before this ceremony took place, the Articles of War were read to us, and from them we inferred that it was no easy matter to be a good soldier, and not at all safe to be a poor one. Those who did not wish to be sworn in after hearing them read, were allowed to decline. A few did so; and the farewell salutations these "deserters," as we chose to call them, received from their late comrades were not at all calculated to make them feel joyful or proud. As our field officers were not yet announced, Captain Herron, as senior officer, assumed command of the regiment. He was in every respect a gentleman; but his discipline, though wholesome and correct, was such as our democratic ideas enabled us poorly to appreciate.

On the 10th of June, we, for the first time, saw ourselves as a regiment. The regiment was formed in the proper order of the companies, and marched in column of sections, through the principal streets of the city. We had no arms; and every company had its own style of uniform. Nevertheless, as we marched along, we caught, from the admiring glances of the citizens, an idea of our importance, and that such a sight as we presented was not to be seen every day, and that we were destined to play no unimportant part in the war for the Union.

On the 11th of June the people of Keokuk celebrated the obsequies of Senator Douglas. Of course the "military" had to take part in it. The three regiments were assembled, and following each other in their appropriate order, marched in column of platoons, to slow time, through the principal streets, and then through clouds of dust, and under a melting sun, away up the Mississippi to a point somewhere between Keokuk and Fort Madison. Here for the first time we got sight of a hearse, magnificently trimmed in black, into which a number of verdants were seen to peek, doubtless in expectation of getting a sight of Douglas. We were allowed to break ranks which was a great relief to us, as we expected to be compelled to stand in our places and undergo the infliction of an oration. The whole being over, the battalions were again formed and marched back to their quarters to quick time. The citizens, who rode in carriages, or walked on the green sward, pronounced this military display a grand affair; but the soldiers who had been compelled to keep the dusty road, going and coming, pronounced it an intolerable bore. Some went so far as to express the profane wish that the great senator had never been born.

At this time, the First Iowa was in camp near the city. The name of their camp was Ellsworth. Their mode of life was a great novelty to us, and the fact that such was soon to be ours, gave it an additional interest. Those sentinels, marching to and fro, so stern, so mute, lent to their little city an inhospitable air, which we were not at all pleased to see. All within ten feet of their beat was forbidden ground. Why could we not trespass upon it? At least we thought there could be no harm in allowing their own men to pass out and in when they pleased. The sentinel could not explain this. He wanted to see the boys have all the privileges they wished, but he must obey his orders. Then, with a shake of the head, he would hint that it was contrary to orders for a sentinel to talk on his beat, and pass on. What did all this signify? Their officers were "putting on style," we said, and the men were learning to be soldiers pretty easily. Well, we could not blame the boys. It was their duty to obey their orders, at all events.

Then there was the gate where stood Sentinel No. 1. Through this, all who went in or out were compelled to pass. And there stood the officer of the guard. How magnificently attired! If men's merits were to be judged by their appearance, we would have supposed him a hero of twenty battles. That Zouave cap, with the gold lace and bugle on it; that scarlet sash; those monstrous epaulettes;—how they dazzled! And then the neat fitting coat and pants. And what a full chest he had! "He must be a long-winded fellow," said we. And that we thought would help him if he should have any running to do, which was among the possibilities of war. And couldn't he swim though. Well, if such a bellows would not float a man, what would? A regiment of such fellows would float a bridge across the Mississippi. Perhaps the coat had something to do with it—who knew?

But we forgot to salute him. What daggers he looked at us! We asked him to let us pass in. "Where do you belong?" "To the Third Regiment." "What do you want here?" "To see some friends." "Sentinel, pass them in, Sir!"

It was indeed a novelty to most of us. The men and officers lived in square, white tents, slept on hay, and cooked their rations on fires built in holes dug in the ground. Most of the men were very communicative. A few would hold up their heads as if to say, "We have seen service; you are greenies." Of course some of us must have appeared very verdant to them. We plied all manner of questions, in reply to which they told us prodigious stories of what they had already seen, and suffered, for their country's sake. If we were to believe them, they were suffering greatly now. They had been in the service a month and a half, and the Government had furnished them no clothing and not a cent of pay! Besides, they were half-starved, and the rations provided them were not fit for a dog! And their officers treated them shamefully, too. We began to think so; for yonder was a captain drilling his men. They obeyed promptly; and, yet, at every command, he called them "devils-of-hell."

Their officers all dressed wondrous fine. If all officers wore such epaulettes, such bugles and such lace, we did not wonder that there was an advance in American gold. And when we saw that they were all exceedingly full-chested, like the stern lieutenant at the gate, we concluded that the coat did have something to do with it.

And when we went away, it was under the impression that those soldiers would fight, and that they could tell a few things which we did not know. We concluded, too, that their officers put on a good deal of style; and indeed, we said, ours were beginning to pattern after them. A soldier did not have many rights that a white man was bound to respect, any way. We were very willing, very patriotic then, but we had not learned to be contented with what we could neither prevent nor improve.

About two o'clock on the morning of June 12th, we heard a great tumult in the streets. It was the Second Regiment preparing to leave. They had received orders to advance into Missouri and take possession of the Hannibal and St. Joseph Railroad which the rebels were attempting to destroy. All seemed to be greatly elated at the prospect before them. But amid the hurry of preparation, there was no time to talk.

The following afternoon the First Regiment left for the same destination. Their boys, like those of the Second, were jubilant in spirit. They went about the boat which was to take them away, singing a parody on "Dixie;" and the boat moved out amid enthusiastic cheers of a large throng of citizens. It would be our turn to leave next. We hoped it would be soon.

And now the Third Iowa were the only military occupants of Keokuk. Our quarters were in commodious and comfortable buildings. We were provided with blankets, warm enough, but of a very inferior quality, and plenty of clean hay to sleep on. For subsistence, we were turned over to the tender mercies of contractors whom Government paid for boarding men at the rate of two dollars and ten cents per week. It may be surmised that it was the chief ambition of some of these men to board us as cheaply as possible. At least we thought so.

We began to see a great and unpleasant difference between the state of things now and a month ago. Then the time passed like a holiday. We were preparing to leave for the war, and the people seemed to think they could not do too much to encourage and assist us. They idolized us as patriots, almost as heroes. We had hazarded all we possessed, they said, for our country's sake. We hence belonged to them. The stripling of seventeen by enlisting gave himself to the public. Everybody talked of him; admired, encouraged, praised. He was a noble lad; he had the brave heart of a man. More likely than not, half a dozen fair misses were ready to quarrel with each other on his account. Indeed, the ladies seemed to be unanimous in the opinion that "none but the brave deserve the fair." A young man who had not joined some company, without he had a very plain excuse, was nowhere among them. The soldier was "all in all;" the proud recipient of every favor, whether of money, advice, flattery, smiles or sighs. It would be surprising if these attentions did not lead us to form a very exalted opinion of our deserts. So it was. The people had humored us until when they handed us over to the Government, we were like spoiled children. We wanted to be humored still. At least, we looked upon ourselves as gentlemen, and thought the contractors should treat us as such. This they certainly did not do. It was bad enough, we thought, to compel us to eat on greasy tin plates and to drink our coffee out of cups of the same material; but to serve hair and brick-dust up to us in our soup, seemed decidedly out of place. At first we contented ourselves with dropping hints to the waiters that a reform in this matter would be agreeable; but seeing our hints unheeded we threw out admonitions, which were likewise a waste of words. Finally, two companies, D and F, indicated their displeasure, at their boarding houses, by turning up the tables, and pelting the waiters with beef bones. It seemed to some of our young ideas a glorious manifestation of the old Saxon spirit of liberty. At least, its results were salutary. In both cases it secured us a magna charta in the shape of a new boarding place with earthen dishes and palatable food.

It is doubtless true that under the impression that we were suffering useless hardships, our complaints were at times very unreasonable. Young soldiers, like young children, sometimes act very foolishly. And as a person in manhood generally sees the folly of his early days, so we subsequently had many a hearty laugh at these complaints about what we had learned to consider luxuries, especially during the fasts of Kirksville and the Tallahatchie.

Our duties at this time differed in some respects from those of later days. Of course we had to retire and rise at the tap of the drum; but we had less fatigue and guard duty and more drill. We were required to drill six hours a day, a very irksome duty, as some had sore feet, and the weather was quite warm.

It is now a matter of ludicrous astonishment to us that before we had been in the United States service a week, we began to grumble about our pay. The State owed us for the three weeks we had passed in its service. Why did it not pay us? It was not such treatment as we had expected to receive; but now they had got us in their power, they would do with us as they pleased. But why did we not think of that before? And who did we mean by that indefinite they? It is a monster that has inflicted upon us untold wrongs, but could any one give his locality?

At length, on the 24th of June, we received pay for the time we had spent in the State service. It was a small sum, less than seven dollars to each man; but many of us had been out of money for some time, and it may be imagined it was highly appreciated. Indeed, before night, some of us grew quite rich over it.

The same day we received our arms. Instead of the Springfield or Enfield rifle of which we had had so many dreams, we were disappointed in finding them a plain, bright musket, marked, "Springfield, 1848." But we did not know as much about these muskets then as we do now. There are some graves on a cotton field near Pittsburg Landing that have a tale to tell about them to any ordnance officer that will pass that way.

The following day we went into camp on the site of the late Camp Ellsworth. We received commodious quarters in the shape of fourteen wall tents to the company. The business of getting into camp consumed the entire day. We were beginners then. A strong line of sentinels was established around us. We did not like it. No, nor have we ever learned to like to be thus imprisoned.

The name of our camp was Kirkwood. It was a beautiful situation. The ground was a gently rolling greensward, over which were scattered trees in pleasant variety, and, near by, swept between his bold banks the majestic "Father of Waters."

It may be presumed that for the first few days of our camp experience, we got along poorly. But we could adapt ourselves more readily to our new mode of life than the members of some regiments in the field; for we had among us many whose frontier life had taught them the mysteries of "camping out." Of course we cooked our food badly. But the ladies who daily visited our camp gave us many important hints on this subject. As yet we had no surgeon; and our officers, either from want of knowledge, or not appreciating the importance of the matter, paid very little attention to it. It was a long time before we learned to cook our food so as not seriously to impair health.

At this time a circumstance occurred which showed that our "Saxon spirit of Liberty" was not unconquerable. The quartermaster had furnished us no cups, plates, knives, forks nor spoons. We were told that we would have to buy them with our own money. This we were determined not to do. We declared that the Government should furnish them. The quartermaster we believed was swindling us, and putting the money in his own pocket. We said all manner of hard things about him and about our officers generally. Well, after we had been two or three days in camp, it was noticed that most of us were provided with the articles in question. Where or how did we get them? The quartermaster did not furnish them, nor did any one give them to us; we must have bought them. Thus military discipline and hunger are great eagle-tamers.

But the Third Iowa was not allowed that period of discipline and drill with which some regiments are favored before going into active service. Almost from the very outset, we were destined to receive our training in the face of the enemy. On the 28th of June it was rumored that we were to advance into Missouri. That evening crowds of citizens visited our camp and paid us great respect and many kindnesses. Instead of a dress parade, as usual, we underwent the display of a review before Colonel Curtis of the Second Regiment, who commanded the "North Missouri Expedition." Before tattoo it was definitely announced that we would leave the following morning, and orders were issued for reveille at three o'clock.