The Drummer Boy

by J. T. Trowbridge

Ardent, sympathetic, fond of good-fellowship, Frank caught quickly the spirit of those around him. He loved approbation, and dreaded any thing that savored of ridicule. He disliked particularly the appellation of "the parson," which John Winch, finding that it annoyed him, used now whenever he wished to speak of him injuriously. Others soon fell into the habit of applying to him the offensive title, without malice indeed, and for no other reason, I suppose, than that nicknames are the fashion in the army. To call a man simply by his honest name seems commonplace; but to christen him the "Owl" if his eyes are big, or "Old Tongs" if his legs are long, or "Step-and-fetch-it" if he suffers himself to be made the underling and cats-paw of his comrades,—that is considered picturesque and amusing.

Frank would have preferred any of these epithets to the one Winch had fastened upon him. Perhaps it was to show how little he deserved it, that he made his conduct appear as unclerical as possible—smoking, swaggering, and, I am sorry to add, swearing. Imbibing unconsciously the spirit of his companions, and imitating by degrees their habits and conversation, he became profane before he knew it,—excusing himself on the plea that every body swore in the army. This was only too near the truth. Men who had never before indulged in profanity, now frequently let slip a light oath, and thought nothing of it. For it is one of the great evils of war that men, however refined at home, soon forget themselves amid the hardships, roughness, and turbulence of a soldier's life. It seems not only to disguise their persons, but their characters also; so that those vices which would have shocked them when surrounded by the old social influences appear rather to belong to their new rude, half barbarous existence. And we all know the pernicious effect when numbers of one sex associate exclusively together, unblessed by the naturally refining influence of the other.

Such being the case with men of years and respectability, we need not wonder that Frank should follow their example. Indeed, from the first, we had but one strong ground of hope for one so young and susceptible—that he would remember his pledges to his mother. These violated, the career of ill begun, where would he end?

Here, however, I should state that Frank never thought, as some boys do, that it is smart and manly to swear. Sometimes we hear a man talk, whom the vicious habit so controls that he cannot speak without blasphemy. With such, oaths become as necessary a part of speech as articles or prepositions. If deprived of them they are crippled; they seem lost, and cannot express themselves. They are therefore unfit for any society but that of loafers and brawlers. Such slavery to an idle and foolish custom Frank had the sense to detest, even while he himself was coming under its yoke.

Here, too, before quitting the subject, justice requires us to bear witness in favor of those distinguished exceptions to the common profanity, all the more honorable because they were few. Although, generally speaking, officers and men were addicted to the practice, the language of here and there an officer, and here and there a private, shone like streaks of unsullied snow amid ways of trodden mire. Captain Edney never swore. Atwater never did. No profane word ever fell from the lips of young Gray. And there were others whose example in this respect was equally pure.

Fortunately, Frank was kept pretty busy these times; else, with that uneasy hankering for excitement which possesses unoccupied minds, and that inclination to mischief which possesses unoccupied hands, he might have acquired worse vices.

No doubt some of our young readers will be interested to know what he had to do. The following were some of his duties:—

At daybreak the drummer's call was beat by the drums of the guard-tent. Frank, though once so profound a sleeper, had learned to wake instantly at the sound; and, before any of his comrades were astir, he snatched up his drum, and hurried from the tent. That call was a signal for all the drummers to assemble before the colors of the regiment, and beat the reveillé. Then Frank and his fellow-drummers practised the double-quick for two hours. Then they beat the breakfast call. Then they ate their breakfast. At eight o'clock they had to turn out again, and beat the sergeant's call. At nine o'clock they beat for guard mounting. Then they practised two hours more at wheeling, double-quick, etc. They then beat the dinner call. Then they had the pleasure of laying aside the drumsticks, and taking up the knife and fork once more. After dinner more calls and similar practice. The time from supper (five o'clock) until the beat for the evening roll-call (at eight), the drummers had to themselves. After that the men were dismissed for the night, and could go to bed if they chose,—all except the drummers, who must sit up and beat the tattoo at nine. That is the signal for the troops to retire. Then come the taps (to extinguish lights), beat by each drummer in the company, going down the line of tents.

There were other calls besides those mentioned, such as the company drill call, the adjutants call, to the color, etc., all of which were beat differently; so that, as you see, the drummer boy's situation was no sinecure.

He found his watch of great assistance to him, in giving him warning of the moment to be ready for the stated calls. Although evidently a new watch, it had been well regulated, and it kept excellent time. The secret donor of this handsome present was still undiscovered. Sometimes he suspected the colonel, sometimes Captain Edney; then he surmised that it must somehow have come to him from home. But all his conjectures and inquiries on the subject were alike in vain; and he enjoyed the exquisite torment of feeling that he had a lover somewhere who was unknown to him.