The work of pitching camp being finished, and the excitement over the departure of their comrades having subsided, our hungry soldiers, as is ever the case when at a loss for other amusement, turned their attention to their appetites, which, on investigation, they found to be quite keen. It was generally known on leaving the Capitol grounds that company mess was to be established, and soon eager voices were heard inquiring about supper. The meal served that night was one long to be remembered. A meal prepared under a combination of disadvantages rarely brought together on one occasion. Everything was confusion, and kicking, growling, and general dissatisfaction reigned supreme. The aching void felt by each lusty trencher-man urged him to lend his individual presence, and the aid of his voice in adding to the confusion, and causing greater delay. Our quartermaster was heard to remark that he received enough punishment that night to counterbalance all the “snaps he ever had.”
The commissary department was not yet ready to issue rations and would not be until 7 o’clock. Some of the companies had bought food, prepared a meal, and were eating before B had a sign of supper in sight. This was soon discovered by our hungry warriors, and the wail of anguish that went up in B street was heartrending. Captain Cook was, of course, immediately notified, and getting on one of his proverbial moves, he went to the quartermaster to learn why the other companies were eating and B. still waiting. The quartermaster explained; and then, resolving to make another effort to save the lives of his starving comrades, who had not even yet ceased to make inquiries about that supper that was not, started for the commissary department to see if it were possible to get any thing to appease the appetites of those hungry mortals of Company B. Presently loud words in the direction of the commissary department, accompanied by a rattle of tinware, attracted the attention of every one. Inquiry as to the cause elicited the fact that B’s quartermaster was trying to “take” a ham, and, being caught, tried to argue the point with Commissary Fitz, but was finally forcibly ejected.
A GROUP OF FIELD AND STAFF OFFICERS OF THE FIRST REGIMENT INFANTRY.
Seven o’clock came and went, and still no rations. Some thing must be done immediately; and it was now that the little “takings” of the quartermaster showed their value. A fire was quickly started, and three scantlings lashed together at one end forming a tripod, were placed over it; from the center a wire was suspended and the coffee-pot (captured and held for ransom) placed thereon. In a short time water was boiling and coffee made. The coffee and pot having played their part, the prepared beans, which simply needed heating to be very palatable, so neatly added to the company larder that afternoon by the quartermaster, and that very apt pupil in the art of “taking,” Private Hayes, were then brought into service. Emptying five cans of them into a tin bucket they were placed over the fire to warm. About the time the regimental commissary department issued one boiled ham, twelve loaves bread, one roll of butter, and six dozen eggs. Willing hands and hungry mouths set to work making and marring sandwiches. Prominent among the mouth contingent was Sergeant Sieberst who was noticed to eat more than he made, and after a heated argument with the Emperor’s finest, Paul Rupp, was told to amuse himself keeping the fire up. He was nothing loath, the beans being already very palatable. But Private Hayes, who had noticed the facility with which the worthy Sergeant could “turn a sandwich into a man,” told him not to bother about the fire. Hayes was not a man to lend a hand to acquire anything and then get left himself. Quartermaster Clifford has learned this to be a fact, as since the campaign, he has discovered the cause of certain mysterious disappearings of canned oysters and a few other articles of more or less gastronomic value.
The sandwiches were finally all made; and after the beans were thoroughly warmed, the eggs were put on and in a short time boiled hard. Imagine the inconvenience of cooking one article at a time, with a lot of hungry men waiting, like vultures, to devour it. It was fully 8 o’clock when supper was ready to be served. Each man stepped up and received two sandwiches, one egg, a small quantity of beans, and a cup of coffee. Another great disadvantage was the lack of tin plates, cups, forks, and spoons. There had been enough for about one-half the company served out to us, and when one man finished with a cup or plate, it was passed to another who had not yet been served. This, it was rumored among the boys, was another stroke of economic genius on a par with that “ample” breakfast and dinner of the 4th of July, by our brilliant minded Adjutant General Allen, late 2d Lieutenant Commissary Department Missouri State Volunteers. Nobody, on this occasion, waited for fork or spoon, but used a piece of wood or any thing else that might answer the purpose. Occasionally the quartermaster’s voice could be heard denouncing some hungry man for “repeating.” After all had “scored,” some being still hungry, sent to a neighboring store and purchased canned stuffs and crackers. Some took the entire situation good naturedly, but all seemed to think it necessary to stand round and echo the appeals of their inner man.
Had we been camped in a strange country, with no base of supplies, we could hardly have been thrown more on our own resources than we were, camped in the city of Sacramento, the very town in which our adjutant general, who is quartermaster and commissary general also of the National Guard of California has his headquarters.
Here was a commissary department under the direct eye of its chief thrown into such confusion by a simple change of camp that in a regiment of seven companies, six were forced to buy their own provisions, and the Seventh, waiting to be served, finally received enough to satisfy about one-half their number, the coffee and beans, be it remembered, not being issued by the commissary department. And as if this alone were not bad enough, the men were obliged, on account of the scarcity of tin cups and plates, on which valuable articles some military wiseacre had thought well to economise, to wait in squads for their meal, which some did not taste until after 9 o’clock.
Tattoo, at 9:15, found the men of B still airing their grievances; yet, having at least partially appeased their appetites, they willingly retired to their tents, where, of course, the orator of each tent crowd continued to hold forth. Taps came, and still the flow of oratory continued. On all such occasions as this, our watchful captain would wander down one side of the street and up the other, pull back the fly of each tent as he passed, poke his head slowly in and make his usual request to “Let’s have a little quiet.” It was on this occasion, we believe, that Johnny Gilkyson, of the wild Irish tent, the fighting drummer, stunned our worthy captain and nearly convulsed his tentmates by replying “How much worth, Captain?” Surprised at his own audacity, Johnny dived under the blanket of his bunky, who was nearly choked in his efforts to smother his laughter.
Breakfast the next morning, that of Friday the 13th, served at 6 o’clock, found the men waiting and willing. This meal, prepared in the same manner as that of the previous evening, consisted of boiled eggs, bread, and coffee. This was, really, our first day at this new camp, work having been begun so late the day before that little more had been done than pitch the tents. After breakfast had been disposed of, the men of B, as of the other companies too, set to work with a will to put the street, their future home for nobody knew how long, into a habitable condition. Few shirked the work, and all seemed anxious to show that they had recovered from last night’s ordeal. Some secured planks from a neighboring sidewalk and stretched them across their tents at about the center to keep the hay used for beds from spreading; others made gun-racks of stray pieces of lumber to keep their rifles from the dust; while others took a hand-car, made a trip up the line some three or four hundred yards to the lumber-yard and secured material, out of which Monahan was soon busy manufacturing tables and benches. But by far the most important work undertaken was the improvision of a fireplace over which all future meals must be prepared. During the morning the captain issued orders giving full charge of the kitchen to Quartermaster Clifford and appointing Musician Paul Rupp company cook. Having been given charge of the kitchen, Clifford, aided by Sergeant Sturdivant, set to work at the fireplace. Taking the hand-car previously used that morning to carry lumber, Ramm, Clifford, Kelly, Monahan, and Flanagan went on a foraging expedition to the railroad shops to secure the necessary material. Needless to say, they took every thing in sight light enough to carry. They overhauled a “dead” engine, securing wrenches, shovel, pick, pokers, and several other more or less handy articles. Longing eyes they cast on a pile of lanterns locked up in a caboose, but house-breaking, at least, was beyond them. In the yard they discovered a piece of sheet-iron to be used as a top for the stove, which was made of bricks, a short stovepipe, and a piece of iron pipe about twelve feet long, by bending which, at about four feet from each end, and driving the ends into the ground, a very serviceable substitute for fork and spit was made and used thenceforth to hang pots and kettles over an open fire. Thus, in a comparatively short time, our company kitchen was created and in operation. The railroad tracks, with the exception of the main line, were blocked at this place by hundreds of fruit-cars, loaded before the strike for Eastern shipment. During the day some skillful operator or break-beam artist managed to open one of these, and a general raid was made on the fruit by the regiment. It seems needless to add that B secured a few boxes of pears; only a few, thirty or forty or so. Pears, raw or stewed, appeared on the menu at each meal from now until we left for Truckee.