General Grant arrived on April twenty-sixth and established his headquarters at Culpeper; with his coming preparations for a forward movement were begun; there was bustle and tumult in all the camps, and a week later, May fourth, the Fifth Corps crossed the Rapidan with the Second Division in the lead preceded by a division of cavalry.
PART XIII.
In Grant's Campaign, 1864.
A few days before the breaking up of our winter camp on the Orange and Alexandria railroad an order was issued from corps headquarters to discontinue our brigade commissary department and turn over all property to the commissary of subsistence of the First Division, Fifth Corps. Lieutenant Sinclair was ordered to rejoin his regiment as soon as the transfers were completed, and I expected to be sent back to my company to shoulder a musket among my comrades once more. I was busy for a couple of days in making out the transfer papers. When they were completed Lieutenant Sinclair sent me to Captain M. R. Came, the division commissary officer, to obtain the necessary receipts and acknowledgements. Captain Came was an elderly man and very peculiar. He glanced at the papers and in a drawling voice with a strong "down-East" accent asked me if I had made them out and if I understood them, to which I replied in the affirmative. He then slowly and carefully put on a huge pair of spectacles and taking another short look at the papers, turned to me and said. "Young man, your threes and your fives, your sevens and your nines I can tell apart, which is of great importance; but I have seen better writing."
Then without further examination he signed the receipts on his camp table and I saluted and departed.
On my arrival at camp I made preparations for my return to my company on the following day, and was greatly surprised when that evening I was ordered to report to Captain Came the next day as acting division commissary sergeant. When I reported for duty the following day he seemed to be pleased to see me. He asked me to sit down in his tent and talked with me about the duties I was to perform, telling me to keep a daily journal for his private use of the marches we made, when and where we drew supplies or issued them, and of all incidents worthy of note. Then he told me to go and make myself comfortable and become acquainted with his "boys," as he called his assistants, of whom, he said, I was to be the "boss." I kept the journal for the Captain during the time I served with him and also a copy of it for myself. When I left him to serve elsewhere I continued the journal as long as I remained with the Army of the Potomac and I still possess it. I have often regretted not having kept a diary all through my war service, which would have made the task of writing this book much easier than relying upon my memory, after the lapse of half a century.
The Captain's "boys" consisted of a civilian clerk, a relative of his, to whom the Government paid seventy-five dollars per month and the allowance of one ration. He was a genial, careless young man, who hated work and passed his on to an assistant, a soldier of a Pennsylvania regiment, who was a bright, smart fellow, detailed as a clerk, and very efficient when he could not get any whiskey. Between the two they kept the "old man," as he was called, in trouble on account of delays in rendering reports and accounts to headquarters, and in having them returned for correction, with which the Captain himself was not very familiar.
Fortunately my duties did not include the keeping of accounts; I was to attend to the drawing of supplies from the depots and the issuing of them at the front and I was also to have a general supervision of the supply train, under the orders of Captain Came. There were also four or five soldiers detailed to do the heavy work, and a cook. All of these men were volunteers; I was the only regular. The "boys" showed very little respect for the "old man," who familiarly addressed them by their Christian names. They seldom saluted him and never stood at attention when he gave them his orders, unless some strange officer was present. The cook was a good one. He belonged to a Massachusetts regiment and was an artist on baked beans. He would dig a hole in the ground and keep up a fire in it all day, and at night put in an army camp-kettle filled with salt pork and beans, cover it over with earth, and next morning dig it up with every bean just done to a turn and none of them burnt.
Captain Came was a native of the State of Maine. He had joined the volunteer army as a commissary of subsistence and had not served with any regiment. He was a man over fifty, of medium stature and heavy build. He wore a grizzled, ill-kept beard and had long gray hair, which together with his carelessness in dress, gave him the appearance of a hard-working old farmer. When in camp he wore a soldier's blouse without any shoulder straps to indicate his rank which, along with an old felt hat, caused him to be mistaken at times for one of the teamsters and to be addressed as such by soldiers who did not know him.
He was an eccentric man, stubborn, but still kind and good-hearted, especially to negroes in distress, for whom he seemed to have a special tenderness. He always spoke of them as "colored boys," and would not tolerate having them called "niggers." On the march we were sometimes pestered by "contrabands"—negro men, women and children—slaves—who had run away and followed the supply trains. These he would care for and feed for days, instead of turning them over to the provost-marshal. One day I saw the Captain almost shed tears while listening to a tale told by a sleek, fat wench, who seemed to be the spokesman for a large party to whom he gave permission to ride in the heavily loaded wagons, and from which they were presently ejected, to the Captain's great regret, by Captain Thomas, the division quartermaster.
He had a negro servant, a lazy, worthless, lying rascal, who imposed on his kind master shamefully. Often when called, though close by, he paid no attention; then the Captain left his tent to go in search of him, calling out "Aleck! Aleck! Alexander Tyler, I want knowledge!" which was one of the peculiar expressions he used when he wanted information about anything. If he found "Aleck," and sometimes gave him a mild reproof, the rascal always had a lying excuse and only grinned at the old man. We wondered sometimes whether the Captain bossed the negro or the servant bossed the Captain, for he slept in his tent and helped to drink his whiskey.