PART II.

AT CARLISLE BARRACKS, PA., IN 1855.

After a tramp through the snow with our heavy loads from the Carlisle depot, we reached the barracks tired out. The corporal reported our arrival at the adjutant's office, and we were assigned to companies. Moritz went as drummer to Company I, Young as fifer to Company A, and myself as fifer to Company D of the Second United States Infantry.

The regimental headquarters were there together with the field and staff, and the band, companies A, G and I had been recruited to their full strength, but Company D, to which I was assigned, had no real existence as yet. There were only two officers, a few sergeants and corporals, together with three or four privates, some of whom had served in the Mexican War, which was all that was left of Company D on its return from the Pacific coast, where the regiment had served for a number of years. All of these men were attached to other companies until such time as recruits would be received to fill up the ranks. I was ordered to duty temporarily with Company I.

The Second Regiment of the United States Infantry was one of the oldest in the service. It was organized by act of Congress on March 3, 1791, and was engaged with the Indians on Miami River, November 4, 1791. It had fought in other Indian Wars, principally against the Seminoles in Florida. It took part in the War of 1812, and participated in the engagements of the Mexican War from Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico. After the Mexican War, and at about the time of the discovery of gold in California, it was sent there, where its men built Benicia Barracks near San Francisco, Fort Yuma and other posts.

About 1850 it became known that the Government was enlisting many recruits at Governor's Island for service in California. The gold fever was at its height and hundreds of soldiers were deserting to the mines. Men who had served their terms scorned re-enlistment when they saw so many digging wealth from the hills or dipping it up from the mountain streams. For the same reason it was impossible to get recruits in gold-mad California.

But no such difficulty was experienced in the East. There were plenty of recruits, but the sudden increase in enlistments brought into the army some of the worst men that ever joined it. They put on the uniform solely for the purpose of getting free transportation to California at the Government's expense. I had the story from some of the survivors of the eventful trip made by these recruits from New York to San Francisco.

A steamship was chartered, loaded with army supplies and some hundreds of the recruits. They were under the command of Brevet Major George W. Patten, of the Second United States Infantry, with whom I served later on the frontiers. Major Patten had served in the Mexican War, where he had lost two fingers of his right hand, and was brevetted for gallantry. By the rank and file he was called "Three-fingered Jack," and was known as an easy going soul who hated any sort of trouble, of which he and the young and inexperienced lieutenants with him got plenty before they reached their destination.

Almost the first day at sea the bad element among the recruits began fighting with the sailors. They stole all the provisions they could lay their hands on. Fortunately they had no arms; these were packed in armchests, and stowed in the hold of the ship. Only some of the sergeants carried sidearms.

The first stop of the steamship was at Kingston, Jamaica, for coal. There the recruits overran the guards, got possession of a coal pile and had a pitched battle with a strong force of negro police, who were trying to keep them on the dock. They soon routed the police, swarmed all over the town and committed many depredations. It required several companies of white British troops to round them up, drive them back to the ship and keep them there while she was coaling.

All the way to San Francisco the unruly element made trouble. They laughed at the mild way in which the good old major disciplined some of them. I was told that when one of the ring-leaders was brought before him he asked his name and promised to make him a sergeant in his own regiment when they arrived in California, if he would only behave himself. After their arrival in San Francisco, most of these ruffians deserted as soon as opportunity offered. Many of them made their way to the gold diggings, and very few of them were ever recaptured.

In 1854 the Second United States Infantry had become greatly reduced in numbers from various casualties, and what remained of the regiment was ordered East. Some companies were consolidated, and the skeleton organizations of others filled up with recruits. A few were entirely re-enlisted. Companies A, D, G and I were at Carlisle, Pa., and the remaining six companies were at Forts Snelling, Ridgely and Ripely on the upper Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers, protecting the settlers from the Indians.

I found Carlisle barracks a very agreeable change from Governors Island. It had been built to serve as a dragoon barracks, and had quarters and stables enough for a regiment, but during my time, was used only for the Infantry. On July 1, 1864, a part of the Confederate Army, on their march to Gettysburg, fired some shells into the town of Carlisle and set fire to the barracks, but they succeeded in destroying only a part of the buildings. On a recent visit there I found some of the former officers' and soldiers' quarters still standing, also the commanding officer's house, the adjutant's office and guard-house, all of which, together with a number of new buildings, are now used as a Government Indian school and have been for many years.

The soldiers' quarters were three-story buildings with a wide veranda at every floor, facing the parade ground. There company roll calls were held in bad weather. The rooms were large enough not to be crowded; but the bunks were the old-fashioned two-tier kind. Two men slept in each of the lower and upper bunks, and it was uncomfortable. The rooms were heated by stoves in which we burned wood. They were comfortably warm during the winter, which I found less severe in Southern Pennsylvania than in New York.

Our rations were much improved. We were able to add many extras from the company funds. We were in the midst of a fine farming region and could purchase all kinds of vegetables, and other products very cheap from the farmers who came to the barracks for that purpose. When spring came we took long walks. We were allowed to go anywhere within a mile limit without a pass, but generally went much further. Few depredations were committed, and many of the farmers were delightfully hospitable, often giving us milk, and other things, on our tramps about the country.

Carlisle, the county seat of Cumberland County, Pa., was then a town of about seven thousand inhabitants, having churches, schools, hotels, banks, stores, some saloons and many good private houses. There also was Dickinson College, a Methodist institution of renown, which is still flourishing. The town was easy of access for the soldiers, who often went there without the formality of a pass. It was but a mile away from the barracks, and considerably less for those who used a favorite route, crossing a small creek on a log, and cutting across the intervening fields.

Unfortunately for some of the soldiers, there was a distillery on the outskirts of the town quite near where the log crossed the stream, where newly made whiskey was sold for a shilling (twelve and a half cents) per quart, or eighteen cents for a canteen full. Shillings were still in circulation, and there was no high tax on spirits. This cheap and easy way to procure liquor was the means of sending many a soldier to the guard-house.

Occasionally, during the winter, there was a theatrical performance in the town, which a limited number of soldiers received leave of absence to attend. Another favorite amusement was a dance at a tavern or road-house outside of the town where we had a chance to meet some of the farmers' daughters. I borrowed a gun sometimes, and got a few rabbits. I also had some sleigh rides. Indeed, our liberty contrasted so favorably with the narrow confines of Governor's Island that the mild winter passed very quickly.

In about a month after my arrival at Carlisle, the complement of recruits required for Company D was sent on from Governor's Island, and the company took up quarters by themselves in a new two-story building, with a mess-room in the basement, on the easterly side of the barracks. The recruits were all young men, twenty to twenty-five years old, hailing from various parts of the country. A considerable portion were foreign-born, mostly Irish, although there were some Germans and a few other nationalities. Their previous occupations ranged all the way from a school teacher to farm laborer. Some were fairly well educated and others ignorant to the point of illiteracy. There were many mechanics of all sorts among them who had worked as journeymen at their trades. Also there were some runaway apprentices. We found those of a mechanical experience very useful later on at the frontiers.

As usual, they had enlisted for various reasons. Some had the "Wanderlust"; others had a taste for adventure and hoped to satisfy it in a soldier's life. Some had joined from sheer necessity, or inability to find any other occupation to support themselves. This last was a very common cause. There were also a few "ne'er-do-wells" who were of no use anywhere, and a detriment to the army. It took months to drill and discipline these men, and to make serviceable soldiers of them. But after a time their awkwardness disappeared. They carried themselves erect, and there was a marked improvement, except in a few who seemed too stupid to be taught and strained the drill sergeant's patience to the breaking point. Every company seemed to have a few members so awkward as to disarrange any well drilled company. Whenever possible these were detailed to some special duty, which kept them out of the ranks.

The men were left to choose their bunkies, and pair off as they pleased. I bunked with one of the sergeants of the company who had served in Mexico and in California. He was a middle aged man of exemplary character, who took a sort of fatherly interest in me. He taught me many things useful in a soldier's life.

I met with one great disappointment on joining Company D. I had hoped to have as a companion a drummer-boy of about my own age, with whom I could chum. This desire was strengthened by the knowledge that the fifer was considered to rank the drummer and in the absence of special instructions could order the drummer to play such tunes or marches as he chose. But I found myself associated with a man who was a dozen years my senior. He was serving his second enlistment, and had been transferred from some other regiment and sent to Carlisle. He was a married man without any children, and lived in another part of the garrison away from the company. His wife, a rather attractive and genteel young woman, was one of the four laundresses which the army regulations allowed to each company, and provided free with a soldier's daily ration, quarters, transportation, and medical attendance.

My drummer was a tall, haggard man with a sallow face. I was still a few inches short of having attained the height of five feet, and when my tall drummer and I marched at the head of the company we were called the "long and the short of it," which greatly annoyed me as I was very sensitive to ridicule. Another annoyance was the fact that he was not a very good drummer, and would not take the trouble to learn any new and fancy pieces, as we boys did. Whenever I had to play with him alone I was obliged to content myself with the old repertoire. Aside from these differences, we managed to get along well enough, as he was a sober and solemn man who kept very much to himself. But I always missed the companionship of a more youthful spirit.

The commander of my company at this time was Captain and Brevet Major Samuel P. Heintzelman, a native of Pennsylvania who during the Civil War commanded an army corps in the army of the Potomac, and became a major general. His grey hair and beard gave him a fatherly appearance, and he was well liked by the men. He was fond of bean soup, the kind that only soldiers can make. He frequently sent his servant to the company kitchen for a quart of bean soup. Captain Heintzelman remained with us but a few months when he was promoted to Major of the First Regiment of Infantry. We regretted to lose him. The first lieutenant was Thomas W. Sweeney, a native of Ireland, who had lost an arm in the Mexican War. He retired from the service in 1870, with the rank of Brigadier General. He was a good soldier. The second lieutenant was John D. O'Connell, of Pennsylvania, a tall, fine-looking man, somewhat given to swearing when he got angry, but a fair and just man. I do not know what became of him after the war. We had three efficient officers who took good care of the company. Captain Heintzelman and Lieutenant O'Connell, were both West Point graduates. The commander of the post was John J. Abercrombie, lieutenant colonel of our regiment. He was also a West Pointer and had joined the army in 1822. He was a good tactician and a very proud and dignified officer.

In March, 1855, great changes took place. The U.S. Army, which then consisted of only eight regiments of infantry, two of dragoons, one of mounted rifles, four of artillery, of which but two companies in each regiment were batteries, and a few engineer and ordnance soldiers, was authorized by act of Congress on March 3, 1855, to be increased by the formation of two additional regiments of infantry, the Ninth and Tenth, and two of cavalry, the First and Second. The old names of "Dragoons" and "Mounted Rifles" were dropped, and those regiments were thereafter known as the Third, Fourth and Fifth Cavalry. General Scott's infantry tactics were abandoned for Colonel Hardee's.

The old smooth bore musket, which carried a ball and three buckshots at short range, was replaced by a long range rifle with a barrel of a dull finish and a sword bayonet. The old fashioned cross belts were done away with, and the cartridge boxes made smaller. The heavy shakos and clumsy fatigue caps were replaced by a lighter and neater uniform hat, and a Képi, after the French army style. The cut of the dress coat was altered and made to look smarter, and polished brass epaulets were worn. All this made a decided improvement in the appearance of the soldiers on parade.

The change in tactics made extra drilling necessary. The old had to be unlearned and the new acquired. After we had become proficient in the new drill, Colonel Abercrombie sometimes marched the four companies, with the band and field music ahead, through the town to the Dickinson College grounds which were on the side nearly opposite to the barracks. There he put us through a battalion drill. These drills and marches through the town took place on fine spring days, much to the delight of Carlisle's citizens, who turned out in great numbers to see the spectacle and to hear the band play.

I had a very easy time at Carlisle barracks. I attended the roll calls at reveille, retreat, tattoo and guard mounting; drilled and practiced for an hour each day except Saturdays, and served as orderly at the adjutant's office about once a week. I had a great deal of spare time which I spent in roving around the country. I also went to town quite often. There was no school so I bought some books and did some studying evenings with the assistance of some of the men in my company. I began to like "soldiering." I wore a fine, showy uniform dress coat of dark blue cloth with the standing collar, cuffs and breast faced with light blue cloth, which made it very conspicuous and distinguished the musicians from the non-commissioned officers and privates. The trousers were of light blue cloth, and the Képi (cap) of dark blue ornamented with a small brass bugle and the regimental number above a straight visor. I had a pair of brass epaulets, or "scales," as we called them, which, together with my coat buttons and cap ornaments, I kept highly polished. I also had a bright sword, for each musician, and the first or orderly sergeant of each infantry company carried a straight sword. The sword belt was made of black leather and had a brass clasp ornamented with an eagle and a wreath of white metal. My sword was rather long for me at this time, and it used to get between my legs at first when marching, and trip me up. It took some time to become accustomed to it.

My pay was twelve dollars per month, with everything found and I looked pityingly upon citizen boys of my age who had to slave for a couple of dollars per week.

I was approaching my fourteenth year, and outside of my military obligations felt that I was my own master. This, I suppose, made me think I was a man in spite of my youth. I fear that at this period I felt "a little cockey" or vain, and showed it. This feeling, however, I got rid of after I experienced real service in the frontiers. I bought some white shirts, "boiled shirts," as we soldiers called them, also neckties and "bear's grease" for my hair. With all this I arrayed myself gorgeously when I went to town. Sometimes I wore a red sash instead of my belt and sword which I was not allowed to carry into town. I began to correspond with some of the town girls, who admired the soldiers, and I made calls on some of them.

We music boys patronized a small ice cream and candy store kept by a widow and her daughter. There was a back room where we often met and were served with soft drinks and cake. Between pay days, when we had run out of money, the widow gave us credit.

The freedom I enjoyed here was a great contrast to my unhappy experience on Governor's Island, where I had but little liberty, was half starved and was badly treated in many ways. I look back with pleasure to my six months' stay at Carlisle, whose citizens were always friendly to the soldiers. There was but little of the rough element in that staid old Pennsylvania town, and I cannot recall that any serious difficulty or encounter ever took place between the citizens and soldiers during our stay there.

While at Carlisle barracks, I was obliged to take part in a disgraceful scene--the drumming out of two soldiers. They had been tried for desertion by a general court martial, found guilty and sentenced to be indelibly marked on the left hip with the letter D, four inches in height, to have their heads shaved, to be dishonorably discharged and drummed out of service. This sentence was executed one cold winter morning, directly after reveille. The companies who had just answered roll call were kept formed while all of the fifers and drummers marched to the guard-house. There we formed ranks, the two prisoners in front, bare headed, closely followed by four privates and a corporal, their guns at a position of "Charge bayonets." The field music was behind, playing what is called "The Rogue's March." In this way the prisoners, whose closely shaved heads presented an absurd appearance, were marched around the four sides of the parade ground, past the companies standing in ranks, back to the guard-house and through the gate adjoining. There we halted, their caps and small bundles containing their little belongings were handed to them, also a dishonorable discharge, then we watched them for a while as they hastened down the road towards the town. They did not enter it, however, but cut across the fields and soon disappeared from sight.

This spectacular exhibition of a brutal punishment seemed to me like a relic of barbarity. It was conceived in the virulent minds of some of the officers who tried the prisoners. The sentence was duly approved by a higher authority, although it was not in accordance with the punishments as prescribed in the army regulations. Young as I was, I felt ashamed and indignant at being compelled to be an actor in this disgraceful scene.

A company of soldiers, after they have served together for some months, become like a large family. My own company was a fair sample. We soon knew each other's good points, failings and weaknesses. It took but a short time for the company to separate itself into two parties; the larger of which contained the men who kept themselves clean, and took some pride in soldiering. The other contingent, happily small in numbers, were often slovenly, disorderly, and sometimes vicious. They were given to quarreling, and occasional fighting. Though they banded together, they were not able to create much trouble while in the quarters, as they were so largely out-numbered. It became necessary sometimes to teach one of them a severe lesson, and I remember one case wherein a man of filthy habits was taken to the creek by his comrades, stripped and washed with soap and sand until his skin was raw.

As we had no way to lock up anything we owned we were particularly severe on petty thieves, taking the law into our own hands, by giving the guilty one a sound beating. This had a good effect. Of those we punished none ever complained of their treatment to the officers, knowing that they would receive small consolation from them. After a few rigorous punishments it was seldom that a soldier missed anything.

Tricks were played upon us boys once in a while. We played our calls at the flag staff in front of the commanding officer's house, where, when commencing to play, some fifer would nearly burst himself trying to blow his instrument. Upon investigation he would find it stuffed with paper or rags. Sometimes a drummer would find the drumhead greased or the snares loosened. The bandsmen also had their troubles. Their brass instruments were filled with water or stuffed with rags; these experiences soon taught us to examine our instruments before going to the parade ground.

Early in March, 1855, Major Edmund B. Alexander of the Eighth Infantry, arrived after having been promoted to colonel of the Tenth Infantry, one of the new regiments. As he ranked Lieutenant Colonel Abercrombie he took command of the post. The headquarters of the Tenth Infantry were established at Carlisle barracks. Officers and recruits for the new regiment began to arrive, and the post took on a more lively appearance as company after company of the new regiment was formed. We began to be somewhat crowded. The parade ground within the barracks proved to be too small for drilling all the companies at the same time, and some of them were obliged to exercise in adjoining fields.

The addition of four new regiments to the United States Army, and the necessary increase of more than one hundred and fifty officers brought joy to the hearts of many of the old officers, who had long waited for promotion. Advancement in time of peace is naturally very slow. Many grey haired first lieutenants became captains, some elderly captains became majors, and a few majors were promoted to colonels. The second lieutenants were supplied from West Point as far as possible. There was a very scanty promotion from the ranks, but quite a number of appointments from civil life--many of these through political influence more than for any merit the candidates possessed.

Before the raising of the four new regiments the number of officers in the army who had been appointed from civil life was very small. Most of them dated from the war with Mexico. These men had seen service and were experienced. We did not take kindly to the newly appointed lieutenants from civil life. Few of them knew anything of military work, and for some we had contempt. But we respected the young officers from the military academy, who understood their business.

The various promotions caused many transfers of officers to serve in higher grades in other regiments. My company lost Captain and Brevet Major Samuel P. Heintzelman, who left us, much to our regret, to become a Major of the First United States Infantry; William M. Gardner, a native of the State of Georgia, and a West Point man, became our next captain, having been promoted and transferred from another regiment. He was an ardent Southerner who most cordially hated the "Abolitionist"--a haughty, high-spirited, irritable man, more feared than liked by the soldiers. He was middle-aged and unmarried, slight and of medium size with a swarthy complexion. His delicate physique caused him to suffer much from the severe hardships endured while on the frontiers, but he bore them courageously and without a murmur.

He remained captain of Company D until his native state seceded from the Union, when he resigned his commission, and joined the Confederacy. There, I have been told, he became a brigadier general and lost a leg during the war. I remember Captain Gardner with the kindest of feelings, and I am grateful to him for special acts of kindness and indulgence. He never was harsh or hasty to me, and often he gave me good advice, which to my regret I did not always follow.

We had a mild winter at Carlisle, as I have said, and spring opened early. In May it was warm enough to bathe in the deep holes of the small creek, near the garrison, and we often enjoyed swimming in a river some miles away. There was a large cave in that vicinity into which we often went for the pleasure of shouting and hearing the echoes. The country was beautiful. There were large farms, with prosperous-looking houses. I never tired of wandering about on the good roads that stretched in all directions.

I found much amusement in watching the drilling of the raw recruits of the Tenth Infantry, for we of the Second considered ourselves trained soldiers now and laughed at their awkwardness as others had probably laughed at us.

A certain Irish sergeant had a most peculiar way of his own of elucidating the tactics to the recruits, and often lost his temper when things were done wrong. One day, after he had patiently explained and demonstrated to his squad that, when given the command, "Forward march," each man must step off with his left foot, about half of the squad advanced the right foot.

"Didn't I tell y'es the roight fut's not the roight fut?" he shouted. "The lift fut's the roight fut."

Sometimes it happened that some inattention of the instructor himself would cause amusement when drilling some of the larger squads in marching. At the command "By the right flank, right face, forward march," one-half of the squad misunderstanding the command, would face to the left, and march on until brought up against a fence or other obstruction. At the same time the other half marched with the instructor at their flank in the opposite direction, until he commanded, "Halt, front face," and discovered the missing half on the other side of the parade ground "marking time," and waiting for a command.

An old soldier of my company named Coffey was married and had several children. One of them was called "Kitty." She was a little freckled-faced four-year-old who had the most astonishing red hair that I ever saw. Kitty had a roving disposition, and wandered all over the garrison, and into the soldiers' quarters. Everyone played with her, and she was a general favorite. She loved the soldiers, and the only way we could make her go home was to say to her, "Kitty your hair's on fire, run home and tell your mother." Kitty would then scamper off crying.

She dearly loved to hear the band play, and often got in the way on the parade ground. One day at guard mounting, Lieutenant O'Connoll, of my company, who had a keen sense of humor, was acting as adjutant. He was about to march the guard in review, when he discovered Kitty directly in front of the band, gazing at them with admiration. He changed the customary words of command to "Column forward, guide right--Kitty Coffey get out of the way--March!" all in the same tone of voice.

I have seen Lieutenant O'Connoll, a big raw-boned, black-whiskered Pennsylvanian, whom we learned to like in spite of his very forcible language, fly into such a passion at drill that he would plunge his sword into the ground half way up to the hilt and hold up his hands in despair, vigorously berating the company for some false movement. Sometimes, however, he would laud them when they did their work well.

About the first of June, 1855, orders arrived for the immediate departure of the four companies of the Second Infantry stationed at Carlisle to Fort Pierre on the Missouri River in Nebraska Territory. We were to form a part of the Sioux Expedition, under Brigadier General William S. Harney, for the purpose of chastising one of the tribes of the Sioux nation, who nearly a year before had massacred Lieutenant John L. Grattan, and his escort of twenty-one soldiers, who had been sent out from Fort Laramie to hold a parley with them. As the Government had but a handful of soldiers at Laramie, vengeance had to be delayed until a sufficient number of troops from our small army could be gathered for the purpose.

General Harney had been made leader of the expedition because he was an old experienced Indian fighter, known and feared by many of the Indians. We made our preparations quickly, paid some farewell visits in the town and in a day or two were ready to start as soon as transportation could be provided.

I had some regrets at leaving Carlisle Barracks, where I had experienced none of the ennui of a soldier's life, but had thoroughly enjoyed myself. I think, however, that my regrets were more than counter-balanced by the prospect of new scenes far away from civilization in a country inhabited only by savages, and which at that time had been but imperfectly explored.