Ten years in the ranks, U.S. Army

by Augustus Meyers

With Lieutenant Hawkins, as his chief assistant, was John W. Clous, quartermaster sergeant of the Sixth United States Infantry, who acted in the double capacity of brigade quartermaster and commissary sergeant. It was to relieve him of the duties of the latter that I was detailed. Sergeant Clous was a remarkable man and had a most honorable and successful career in the army. He was well educated—a student—he had served on the frontiers and was my senior by eight or ten years. He became a second lieutenant in December, 1862; and after the war he made a study of military law and became the professor of law, with the rank of lieutenant colonel, at the Military Academy at West Point. At the close of the Spanish War he was a brigadier-general and judge advocate of the commission which settled the affairs between the United States and Cuba. He retired as a brigadier-general in 1901 and died a few years ago. Much to my regret, I never had the opportunity of meeting either of these men after I left the army.

When I entered upon my new duties I found that I had much to learn, but I had a very capable instructor in Sergeant Clous. He was thoroughly familiar with all the rules and regulations of the commissary department and the many forms for accounts and reports which the admirable Government method of accounting for everything demanded. We had a wall tent which we used for an office when in a permanent camp, furnished with two small field desks and a folding table. When in camp Sergeant Clous and I slept in this tent; on the march we slept under the clear skies or in a wagon when it rained. Our little detachment included a clerk and three men to load and unload wagons and assist in issuing rations. One of these men was also the butcher who slaughtered the beef cattle when we had any, killing the cattle with a rifle and dressing the carcass. Another did the cooking for our mess and the third man took care of Sergeant Clous's horse and mine, besides his other duties. These men were all soldiers detailed for special duties, temporarily absent from their companies and, like myself, liable to be ordered back to duty in the ranks at any time. There was also a wagonmaster who was a civilian, as were also most of the teamsters; he had charge of our supply train under orders from the commissary officer. When in camp Lieutenant Hawkins, who had a private servant, generally stayed at brigade headquarters, but while at Sharpsburg he had his tent for a time in a grove along with the officers of his regiment. I remember that his mother visited him there and remained for some days. She was a very fine, motherly lady who adored her son.

While the army was at Sharpsburg all of its supplies had to be hauled from Hagerstown, Maryland, about twenty miles away, which was the nearest railroad depot. There was a good turn-pike road all the way from Sharpsburg, which passed through the recent battle-field, on which the Dunkard church was a conspicuous mark. It was one of my duties to draw supplies at Hagerstown once a week or oftener. I was provided with the necessary requisitions, signed by Lieutenant Hawkins and countersigned by the brigade commander, given charge of as many wagons as were required and accompanied by the wagonmaster. We generally made an early morning start so as to arrive in Hagerstown early in the afternoon, loading the wagons on the same day, then going into camp for the night, and returning to Sharpsburg the following day. This could not always be done, as the place was crowded with army wagons on the same business and it was a case of first come, first served. I always rode on ahead to get my requisition on file, and if we could not be attended to on that day, I rode back to meet my train and park them in some field on the outskirts of the town. It often took two days and a night to make the trip, sometimes more.

On one occasion, after the train had been parked, it became necessary for me to return to the town, and as my horse had cast a shoe, I had my saddle put on one of the teamster's riding mules. It was my first experience in riding a mule. I got along well enough for a short distance until I came to the ford of a small stream, where we were in the habit of watering our animals. I stopped to let the mule drink and then started to cross, but he was determined to go back to the train. I next tried to cross an adjoining bridge with the same result. I coaxed him, I dismounted and tried to lead him, I remounted and did all that could be done to a mule with a pair of spurs and strong language, much to the amusement of some soldier spectators, who advised me to build a fire under him. I could not make him go to Hagerstown, but he willingly went back to camp, to my discomfiture, and I had to borrow the wagonmaster's horse to make the trip.

We were paid while in the Sharpsburg camp and I was able to buy fresh bread and other things for our mess while in town. The bread tasted mighty good after being on hard-tack for six months. I also regaled myself a few times with a real dinner in a tavern at the extravagant price of twenty-five cents. Nearly all through October the weather was delightful and I enjoyed the trips to town immensely; the days were warm, but the nights began to be cool enough for camp-fires.

President Lincoln visited the army on the first of October and remained with General McClellan for several days. Near the middle of October General Stuart of the Confederate Army made a swift raid with two thousand cavalry-men and a battery of horse artillery into Pennsylvania and around the Army of the Potomac, as he had done on the Peninsula. He was almost unopposed, as our cavalry—never equal to that of the Confederates in number—was at this time broken down, scattered and so reduced in numbers by the late campaign that not a thousand serviceable horses could be mounted. After Stuart's raid the road to Hagerstown was patrolled by cavalry.

When not on the road I was kept busy in camp issuing rations and making up accounts. At this time the system was for the brigade commissary to issue rations to companies on the requisition of the officer commanding the company, approved by the commander of the regiment. Companies subdivided their rations among themselves. While in camp issues of rations were made about once a week, except fresh meat, which was issued on days when cattle was slaughtered.

Provisions for officers and their servants, according to regulations of the commissary department, could only be sold to them for cash and on their certificate that they were for their own use; for the Government sold commissary stores to officers at cost, less the cost of freight, but for their own use only. The rule of selling for cash only could not be enforced strictly in war times, but the commissary officer made himself liable for any credit he chose to extend. Sales to officers were made during fixed hours of the morning; money received and vouchers for same were turned over to the commissary officer daily. As commissary sergeant I soon found that I was really gaining the experience of a manager for a large grocery firm.

Issues of whiskey to troops, one gill per day, were only made on the order of the brigade commander in cases of excessive fatigue or severe exposure. Officers could purchase all they wanted, if they stated in their written orders to the commissary that it was for their own use and signed their names. Some good-natured officers who hardly drank at all, seemed to buy much whiskey, for they frequently gave one of their company sergeants an order which read something like this: "Let the bearer have one canteen full of whiskey for my use." Others more scrupulous omitted the words "for my use," knowing the order would not be filled in that case; but I suspect that in some cases the soldier added the necessary words to the order which he himself had written after the unsuspecting officer had signed it.

Sometimes stores became damaged or were received in a damaged condition, when a board of survey was appointed by the commanding officer to ascertain the amount of damage, for the commissary officer was virtually obliged to account for every cracker he received. There seemed to be no end to the many accounts we had to keep and reports to make out, but it was an instructive business experience for me.