There were one drummer and one fifer in each company of infantry and artillery, although the battery sections usually had a bugler. The dragoons had trumpeters. Drummers and fifers of each regiment formed the field music and marched with the band, when the regiment had a band. The Fourth did not have a band, which was lucky. The Eighth had theirs, and Hannibal claimed that it was a nuisance, always getting in the way of the field music.
The music was under the drum major. He acted as first sergeant and received his orders from the regimental adjutant. He called the roll at music assembly, gave the signals with his staff, and saw that the musicians knew how to play. If there was any instrument, from the drum even to the horn, that “Old Brown,” the drum major of the Fourth, could not play, nobody had yet discovered it.
In regimental camp and manœuvres all the company drummers and fifers generally played and marched together—say ten drummers and ten fifers. They assembled at the guard house for reveille, and beating and tooting paraded around through the camp, paying especial attention to the officers’ quarters! The regimental calls were preceded by the regimental march to draw attention, in case that more than the one regiment was present. When marching in column, the field music was at the head of the regiment, the drummers behind the fifers. But the drummer and fifer of each company messed and camped with the company, and stayed with it when it was detached.
The drummers served each in turn at being posted at the guard house to march with the guard on tour and relief and to sound any signal that might be required. The drummers, too, were used as markers in the drills to indicate where the lines were to be formed and dressed; and might be summoned for orderlies or messengers.
In fact, a drummer was an important personage. The drummer boys got the pay and rations of a private; wore a better uniform and a short sword.
But not all the drummers were boys. There was a sprinkling of boys and a sprinkling of grown men; and when the field music had formed it made rather a funny sight with a six-foot lath like Bill Sykes in the same short rank with a dumpy, strutty little “rascal” like young Tommy Jones, aged only fourteen.
The fifers were mainly men. Jerry’s partner, Fifer O’Toole, outreached him by a foot.
At rest intervals the troops were now given chances to see the city and nearby country. Puebla far surpassed Vera Cruz. The saying ran: “Puebla is the first heaven, Mexico (the City of Mexico) is the second.” The paved streets were many and broad, flanked by splendid stone buildings and traversed by the rattling coaches of the wealthy. There were one hundred churches, and innumerable fine stores; the markets teemed with fruits and vegetables. The houses were thrown open to the officers and men; General Worth had started in by not interfering with the city government as long as it did not interfere with him; General Scott continued the system. He permitted the city watchmen to patrol with their arms as before, so that at night there were two sets of guards.
The Mexican watchmen would chant:
“Ave Maria! Son las doce de la noche, y sereno,” which meant: “Hail, Mary! It is eleven o’clock and quiet.”