A Boy Trooper With Sheridan. Allen Stanton P.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ in rear of the battery. But in front of the line of battle, in advance of the cannon that are belching forth their deadly fire, stands the special artist, sketching “on the spot.”

      There was a good deal of stir in Camp Meigs the day that horses were issued to the battalion. The men were new and so were the horses. It did not take a veteran cavalryman but a day or two to break in a new horse. But it was different with recruits. The chances were that their steeds would break them in.

      I had had some experience with horses on a farm – riding to cultivate corn, rake hay and the like – but I had never struggled for the mastery with a fiery, untamed war-horse. Our steeds were in good condition when they arrived at the camp, and they did not get exercise enough after they came to take any of the life out of them. The first time we practiced on them with curry-comb and brush, the horses kicked us around the stables ad libitum. One recruit had all his front teeth knocked out. But we became better acquainted with our chargers day by day, and although we started for Washington a few days after our horses had been issued, some of us attained to a confidence of our ability to manage the animals that was remarkable, considering the fact that we were thrown twice out of three times whenever we attempted to ride.

      One day orders came for us to get ready to go to the front. None but old soldiers can appreciate the feelings of recruits under such circumstances. All was bustle and confusion. There was a good deal of the hip, hip, hip, hurrah! on the surface, but there was also a feeling of dread uncertainty – perhaps that expresses it – in the breasts of many of the troopers. They would not admit it, though. The average recruit was as brave as a lion to all outward appearances, and if he did have palpitation of the heart when orders came to go “On to Richmond” – as any advance toward the tront was designated – the fact was not given out for publication.

      The first thing in order was a general inspection to satisfy the officers, whose duty it was to see that regiments sent out from the Old Bay State were properly armed and equipped, that we were in a condition to begin active service. After all our belongings were packed on our saddles in the barracks, before we took them over to the stables to saddle up, the department commander with his inspecting officers examined our pack kits. As originally packed, the saddles of a majority of the troopers were loaded so heavily that it would have required four men to a saddle to get one of the packs on the horse’s back. When the inspection was completed each trooper could handle his own saddle.

      The following articles were thrown out of my collection by the inspectors: —

      Two boiled shirts; one pair calfskin shoes; two boxes paper collars; one vest; one big neck scarf; one bed quilt; one feather pillow; one soft felt hat; one tin wash basin; one cap – not regulation pattern; one camp stool – folding; one blacking brush – extra; two cans preserves; one bottle cologne; one pair slippers; one pair buckskin mittens; three fancy neckties; one pair saddle-bags – extra; one tin pan; one bottle hair oil; one looking-glass; one checker-board; one haversack – extra – filled with home victuals; one peck bag walnuts; one hammer.

      Some of the boys had packed up more extras than I had, and it went against the grain to part with them. But the inspectors knew their business – and ours, too, better than we, as we subsequently discovered – and we were made to understand that we were not going on a pleasure excursion. It is hardly necessary to say that there was scarcely an article thrown out by the inspectors that the soldiers would not have thrown away themselves on their first expedition into the enemy’s country.

      After we had been inspected and trimmed down by the officers, we were reviewed by Governor John A. Andrew. He was attended by his staff, the department commander and other officers. Each company was drawn up in line in its barracks – it was sleeting outside. As the governor came into our quarters, the captain gave the command, “Uncover!” and the company stood at attention as the chief executive of the Old Bay State walked slowly down the line, scanning the faces of the men.

      I remember that the governor looked at me with a sort of “Where-did-you-come-from, Bub?” expression, and I began to fear that my time had come to go home. The governor said to a staff officer:

      “Some of the men seem rather young, Colonel!”

      “Yes, sir; the cavalry uniform makes a man look younger than he is.”

      “I see. They are a fine body of men, and I have no doubt we shall hear of their doing good service at the front.”

      A few words of encouragement were spoken by the governor, and he passed on to the barracks of the next company.

      It strikes me that Governor Andrew reviewed us again as we were marching from the barracks to the railroad station, but I am not clear on this point. I know there was a good deal of martial music, waving of flags, cheering and speech-making by somebody. Our horses claimed our undivided attention till after we had dismounted and put them aboard the cars. On the way down to the railroad an attempt was made somewhere near the barracks to form in line, so that we could be addressed by the governor or some other dignitary. It was a dismal failure. Our steeds seemed to be inspired by “Hail to the Chief,” “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” and other patriotic tunes played by the band, and they pranced around, stood upon their hind legs and pawed the air with their fore feet, to the great terror of the recruits and the delight of all the boys in the neighborhood who had gathered to witness our departure. How the boys shouted!

      “Hi, Johnny, it’s better’n a circus!”

      “Guess ‘tis – they don’t fall off in a circus; they just make b’lief.”

      “Well, these fellows stick tight for new hands.”

      It was fun for the boys – the spectators – but just where the laugh came in the recruits failed to discover. I was told that the governor – or somebody – gave us his blessing as we rode by the reviewing officer, but I have no personal knowledge on the subject.

      After we had put our horses on board we waited a few minutes before entering the cars while the other companies were boarding the train. There was a chain of sentinels around us, and Mrs. Waterman was outside the line. She caught sight of us as we stood there, and she advanced toward us.

      “Halt – you can’t go through here!” commanded one of the sentinels.

      “I must go through.”

      “But my orders – ”

      “I don’t care; my boys are there, and I’m going to speak to them again.”

      She came through and gave us her parting blessing once more.

      “Boys, I’ll pray God to keep you and bring you both back to your mothers – God bless you; good-by.” The mother’s prayers were answered. Her son and his tentmate were spared to return at the close of the war.

      There was a scramble to secure seats when orders were given to board the cars. Good-bys were said. Mothers, wives and sweethearts were there, and with many it was the last farewell. The whistle blew, the bells rang, the band played, the troops remaining at Camp Meigs cheered and we cheered back. The train moved away from the station, and we were off for the front.

      I never saw Governor Andrew again, but I recall his appearance as he reviewed our company in the barracks very distinctly. I observed that while inspecting officers paid more attention to the arms and accoutrements of the men the governor was particular in looking into the faces of the recruits, to satisfy himself, no doubt, that they could be trusted to uphold the honor of the State when the tug of war should come. John A. Andrew was one of the “war governors” whose loyal support of President Lincoln’s emancipation programme held the Northern States in line when the time came for the President to issue the proclamation that freed the СКАЧАТЬ