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Another regimental history, aparently written by a drummer:
Here are some good excerpts:
"In this connection a brief reference to the One Hundred and Thirtieth drum corps will be in place. Not only did Colonel Gibbs and the regiment generally regard it as most efficient, but General Terry, himself an excellent drummer, assured me it was one of the best martial bands he ever saw. After our sharp engagement of April 17, the General rode over to our quarters and expressed his satisfaction as to the part we performed in bringing off the dead and wounded.
An interesting circumstance occurred in connection with General Terry that excited some attention. Accompanied by his staff he halted at our camp to witness a guard mounting. The bass drummer not playing to suit him, he dismounted and took the drum to show how the time should be played. Just then the command was given, "Troop beat off ! " As I looked hesitatingly at him to know what to do, he said, "Go ahead." He was in for it, and went down and up the line, using both sticks, and in splendid time, making the old drum rattle with a vigor we had not heard before. The spectators set up a cheer, and before we wheeled into place at the right, a good-sized crowd had gathered to witness the novel spectacle of a brigadier-general playing a bass drum at guard mounting. My personal recollections of General Terry are pleasant indeed. He was one of tne most social and approachable officers of high rank I ever knew, and from him I received many valuable suggestions relative to training the drum corps...
DAY IN CAMP.
In the ordinary routine of camp duties reveille was sounded at daybreak. It consisted of several quick and slow tunes played alternately by the drum corps, sometimes preceded by the trumpeter. It was the signal for all the men to assemble in their company streets for roll call, and the familiar commands of the orderly sergeants were heard, "Turn out for roll call!" If some were a little slow, the impatient orderly would shout some commands not found in the book of regulations: "Lively there, you slow pokes." ."Hurry up, old sleepy-head; get a double-quick gait on, and don't keep us waiting all day." Often, if a minute late, the unfortunate fellow would be marked "Absent," and as a punishment, sent out upon picket, or given some extra duty. Thus there was no yawning or second napping. The men soon learned to spring to their feet at the first toot of the bugle or tap of drum.
An hour after reveille came " breakfast call," consisting of but one tune, when, if company cooks were in vogue, the dulcet strains of the orderly's voice would again be heard shouting, "Fall in for grub!"
During the first few months we had company cooks who, unfortunately, were not graduates from a cooking school. In fact, some were so inexperienced they could hardly boil a potato properly. Then our Uncle Sam did not supply us with choice dainties, and what he did provide, these cooks usually managed to spoil, or it was dished out only half done. As the men marched up with their tin cups and plates, it was easy to tell from their looks of disgust that they were not receiving quail on toast, porterhouse steak, or the delightful fried ham and eggs of mother's table. Dinner and supper were similar, with nothing on the bill of fare calculated to tempt the palate of an epicure. Our usual ration was a chunk of corned beef having very much the smell of an old tannery, and a cup of coffee the color of black-strap molasses, and about as astringent and uninviting as if dipped from a tan-vat. The so-called "corned beef" was of a reddish shade, coarse and offensive, and always designated as "salt horse." The boys declared the rank-smelling stuff was unfit for soap grease, and would make the well-fed Northern swine turn up their noses in disgust.
As an illustration of army cooking, we one day noticed our cook preparing some rice for dinner. At once there came before us visions of those deliciously palatable dishes prepared by mother or wife. What a delightful change of diet to have set before us a plate of white, savory rice. But alas ! alas ! how sadly were all our bright anticipations crushed ! for instead of the white, puffy delicacy we had in mind, we only received a lot of dirty brown slush burned to bitterness. It had been cooked in the same old black sheet-iron kettle in which the rusty salt horse had been boiled, and the kettle not even washed out. As fast as the rice burned on the bottom it had been stirred into the rest. At first beans were spoiled in a similar manner. It is, however, due the cooks to say that most of them improved by experience, and gave us as palatable fare as could be expected from the material furnished them. It is also proper to say that the quartermaster, often censured for furnishing such rations, was blameless, as he furnished the best at his command.
In camp we had hardtack, and frequently soft bread, the latter usually drawn loose in dirty wagons and dumped upon the ground by the indifferent teamsters. We, however, usually "skinned" our loaves, that is, cut off the outside, before using.
Company cooking in time became unpopular, and was dispensed with, the men greatly preferring to form themselves into squads, or messes, of from four to six, and prepare their own food.
After breakfast came the " surgeon's," or " sick," call, when might be heard that familiar though not strictly regulation command, " Fall in for quinine." Sometimes a cadaverous procession of from fifty to a hundred men would wabble up to where the surgeon and hospital steward were dealing out medicine. Quinine was prescribed to such an extent that the old veterans had a doggerel song, which our boys quickly picked up, and sang to the music of the bugle:—
" Come for quinine! Git yer quinine! Tumble up you sick and lame and blind, Git along right smart, you'll be left behind." There were two classes who answered to " sick" call, those really sick and in need of medicine, and the playoffs, who resorted to all manner of trickery to shun duty, and who usually threw their medicine in the fire as soon as out of the doctor's sight. It is not strange that our regiment of a thousand men should have a few of the latter class, who, however, through the workings of the law of the "survival of the fittest," were mostly weeded out before the end of our first year. Let not this remark be construed as a reflection upon those noble boys who, because of hardships or ravages of disease, were compelled to leave the service against their wish or desire.
Some may recall a story, current in the regiment, that our surgeon had "caught on" to the tricks of a certain duty dodger, and when, as usually he appeared with his improvised wry face, the doctor prescribed a big dose of castor oil, and compelled him to swallow it on the spot. It is needless to say that chap soon had other business than lounging quietly in his tent.
Half an hour after surgeon's call the drummer gave the warning for guard mounting, calling the guard detail to collect in their company streets. In the meantime the drum corps assembled on the parade ground and played a quickstep, to which the guards marched out and into line. When the lines were properly formed, the adjutant and sergeant-major went through certain prescribed drills, and, as the band played, inspected the guns and accouterments of the guards. Next in order the adjutant gave the commands, "Parade rest!" "Troop beat off " when the band wheeled, and playing a slow-time tune, marched down the line in front of the guards, then countermarched to the place of starting, giving at each end of the line the "three cheers " on the fifes and drums. The adjutant next turned, and saluting the officer of the day, reported, " Sir, the guard is formed." When the further ceremonies were over, the new guards were marched out to relieve the old, and to remain on duty twenty-four hours. Guard mounting was followed by picket mounting, the formalities being similar.
Battalion drill, referred to in the previous chapter, usually lasted two hours, from ten to twelve o'clock. The writer, as chief musician, was also required to drill the band during the same hours. There were also similar drills in the afternoon.
In this connection we will state that as a relief from the monotony of the usual battalion drills, the boys greatly enjoyed going outside the camp for skirmish practice, to which particular attention was given after our first battle, at Deserted Farm. A comrade, whose army letters have been placed at my disposal, gives this animated description of those drills, under date of March 5, 1863: —
" We are now having beautiful weather, and are drilling every day at a lively rate in skirmish work. It is a splendid drill, but very tiresome, as it is nearly all doublequick. Yet we enjoy it hugely. We practice skirmishing over rough ground and through bush and woods.
Half the battalion are deployed as skirmishers, while the other half are held in reserve. Whenever the skirmishers advance or retreat, the reserves do the same. We sometimes double-quick half a mile on a stretch, over ditches, rifle pits, through brush and woods. I wish you could be here to see us when we make a bayonet charge. The order is given, " Charge bayonets ! Forward ! Double quick !" and away we go, yelling like savages. You can imagine the racket eight hundred men can make, every one trying to make more noise than the rest. While Lieutenant-Colonel Thorp or Major Scott are putting us - through the drill, Colonel Gibbs will watch us, his old fat sides shaking with laughter until almost ready to burst. Both he and General Terry take great pride in the One Hundred and Thirtieth New York, and claim that, excepting the Thirteenth Indiana, it is the best-drilled regiment in this department, and we are bound to keep ahead."
DRESS PARADE.
Few of the old charter members of the regiment have forgotten those fanciful dress parades at Suffolk, when near sunset the entire regiment not on duty or excused must appear in line upon the parade ground, arrayed in their finest toggery of military uniform. Conducted by Colonel Gibbs, these parades were exceedingly punctilious affairs. Every man well knew his fate should he presume to appear in line deficient in any of the strict requirements in dress or equipments. If a button was missing, a shoe unblacked or untied, the hair unkempt) the face or hands unwashed, the Colonel's keen eye was sure to detect it, and woe to the unlucky wight, especially should the offense be repeated. It was presumed that before coming upon parade each soldier had been thoroughly drilled in the execution of every maneuver required. The one who failed was sure to hear, "Try it again, clumsy; " and after the parade would be organized into an " awkward squad," and put through the drill until he could handle his arms properly.
It seemed a long time, and very tiresome withal, to stand at "parade rest" for from a half hour to an hour during the reading of orders, silent and motionless as a row of statues, with the guard-house penalty before the man who would venture to even brush a fly from his face. And those pertinacious Suffolk flies, too ! Numerous as during the plagues of Egypt, they swarmed everywhere; and at this particular time, when our hands were tied by military requirements, took grim delight in traveling over our faces, while the big swamp musquitoes got in their bloodthirsty work upon the back of our necks and hands.
A detailed account of all the maneuverings of dress parade would require too much space, therefore only the principal features will be noticed. At a given signal the band inarched out and took position on the extreme right of the parade ground, while the several companies formed in their company streets. As the band played, all marched out and formed in order of battle on the left of the band. The formalities were similar to guard mounting, only on a grander and more impressive scale. The colonel, or senior officer, standing in front of the center of line, took command of the parade, which often consisted of from seven hundred to eight hundred or more men.
The companies being properly aligned, the adjutant commanded, "Troop beat off!" when the band moved out, wheeled, and playing common time, marched down in front of the line; then about faced, and striking up a lively quickstep, marched back to its place on the right, giving the "ruffle" or "three cheers" on fifes and drums at each end of the line. After various maneuverings the adjutant brought the ranks to open order, and aligned the company officers four paces and the field officers six paces in front, when at the command, "Present — arms ! " they saluted the commanding officer. The adjutant also in turn saluted and reported, "Sir, the parade is formed." After the several commands of the colonel in the manual of arms had been briskly executed, and the first sergeants had been to the front and center to report, the adjutant gave attention to the reading of orders. The dress parade was regarded as the great event of the day, and was frequently witnessed by crowds of spectators.
Usually during the interval from dress parade to bedtime all not on detail were free from further duty, and could devote the time to recreation, letter writing, story telling, singing, and other indulgences, as their tastes inclined them.
"Tattoo," usually occurring about nine o'clock in winter and later in the summer, was the signal for all soldiers to repair to their quarters for the night. This consisted of several quick and slow tunes by the band, ending up with a lively double-quick. Half an hour after tattoo, "taps "was sounded, when all lights were put out, and loud talking ceased.
While this chapter is fairly descriptive of the average day in camp, it is not to be understood that all days were alike. There were of course numerous interruptions and changes of program. Various incidental requirements such as policing, or cleaning up of the camp, attendance at funerals, and similar duties required tinie and attention."
Regimental history of the First New York Dragoons: (originally the 130th N.Y. Vol. Infantry) during three years of active service in the great Civil War
James Riley Bowen
Here are some good excerpts:
"In this connection a brief reference to the One Hundred and Thirtieth drum corps will be in place. Not only did Colonel Gibbs and the regiment generally regard it as most efficient, but General Terry, himself an excellent drummer, assured me it was one of the best martial bands he ever saw. After our sharp engagement of April 17, the General rode over to our quarters and expressed his satisfaction as to the part we performed in bringing off the dead and wounded.
An interesting circumstance occurred in connection with General Terry that excited some attention. Accompanied by his staff he halted at our camp to witness a guard mounting. The bass drummer not playing to suit him, he dismounted and took the drum to show how the time should be played. Just then the command was given, "Troop beat off ! " As I looked hesitatingly at him to know what to do, he said, "Go ahead." He was in for it, and went down and up the line, using both sticks, and in splendid time, making the old drum rattle with a vigor we had not heard before. The spectators set up a cheer, and before we wheeled into place at the right, a good-sized crowd had gathered to witness the novel spectacle of a brigadier-general playing a bass drum at guard mounting. My personal recollections of General Terry are pleasant indeed. He was one of tne most social and approachable officers of high rank I ever knew, and from him I received many valuable suggestions relative to training the drum corps...
DAY IN CAMP.
In the ordinary routine of camp duties reveille was sounded at daybreak. It consisted of several quick and slow tunes played alternately by the drum corps, sometimes preceded by the trumpeter. It was the signal for all the men to assemble in their company streets for roll call, and the familiar commands of the orderly sergeants were heard, "Turn out for roll call!" If some were a little slow, the impatient orderly would shout some commands not found in the book of regulations: "Lively there, you slow pokes." ."Hurry up, old sleepy-head; get a double-quick gait on, and don't keep us waiting all day." Often, if a minute late, the unfortunate fellow would be marked "Absent," and as a punishment, sent out upon picket, or given some extra duty. Thus there was no yawning or second napping. The men soon learned to spring to their feet at the first toot of the bugle or tap of drum.
An hour after reveille came " breakfast call," consisting of but one tune, when, if company cooks were in vogue, the dulcet strains of the orderly's voice would again be heard shouting, "Fall in for grub!"
During the first few months we had company cooks who, unfortunately, were not graduates from a cooking school. In fact, some were so inexperienced they could hardly boil a potato properly. Then our Uncle Sam did not supply us with choice dainties, and what he did provide, these cooks usually managed to spoil, or it was dished out only half done. As the men marched up with their tin cups and plates, it was easy to tell from their looks of disgust that they were not receiving quail on toast, porterhouse steak, or the delightful fried ham and eggs of mother's table. Dinner and supper were similar, with nothing on the bill of fare calculated to tempt the palate of an epicure. Our usual ration was a chunk of corned beef having very much the smell of an old tannery, and a cup of coffee the color of black-strap molasses, and about as astringent and uninviting as if dipped from a tan-vat. The so-called "corned beef" was of a reddish shade, coarse and offensive, and always designated as "salt horse." The boys declared the rank-smelling stuff was unfit for soap grease, and would make the well-fed Northern swine turn up their noses in disgust.
As an illustration of army cooking, we one day noticed our cook preparing some rice for dinner. At once there came before us visions of those deliciously palatable dishes prepared by mother or wife. What a delightful change of diet to have set before us a plate of white, savory rice. But alas ! alas ! how sadly were all our bright anticipations crushed ! for instead of the white, puffy delicacy we had in mind, we only received a lot of dirty brown slush burned to bitterness. It had been cooked in the same old black sheet-iron kettle in which the rusty salt horse had been boiled, and the kettle not even washed out. As fast as the rice burned on the bottom it had been stirred into the rest. At first beans were spoiled in a similar manner. It is, however, due the cooks to say that most of them improved by experience, and gave us as palatable fare as could be expected from the material furnished them. It is also proper to say that the quartermaster, often censured for furnishing such rations, was blameless, as he furnished the best at his command.
In camp we had hardtack, and frequently soft bread, the latter usually drawn loose in dirty wagons and dumped upon the ground by the indifferent teamsters. We, however, usually "skinned" our loaves, that is, cut off the outside, before using.
Company cooking in time became unpopular, and was dispensed with, the men greatly preferring to form themselves into squads, or messes, of from four to six, and prepare their own food.
After breakfast came the " surgeon's," or " sick," call, when might be heard that familiar though not strictly regulation command, " Fall in for quinine." Sometimes a cadaverous procession of from fifty to a hundred men would wabble up to where the surgeon and hospital steward were dealing out medicine. Quinine was prescribed to such an extent that the old veterans had a doggerel song, which our boys quickly picked up, and sang to the music of the bugle:—
" Come for quinine! Git yer quinine! Tumble up you sick and lame and blind, Git along right smart, you'll be left behind." There were two classes who answered to " sick" call, those really sick and in need of medicine, and the playoffs, who resorted to all manner of trickery to shun duty, and who usually threw their medicine in the fire as soon as out of the doctor's sight. It is not strange that our regiment of a thousand men should have a few of the latter class, who, however, through the workings of the law of the "survival of the fittest," were mostly weeded out before the end of our first year. Let not this remark be construed as a reflection upon those noble boys who, because of hardships or ravages of disease, were compelled to leave the service against their wish or desire.
Some may recall a story, current in the regiment, that our surgeon had "caught on" to the tricks of a certain duty dodger, and when, as usually he appeared with his improvised wry face, the doctor prescribed a big dose of castor oil, and compelled him to swallow it on the spot. It is needless to say that chap soon had other business than lounging quietly in his tent.
Half an hour after surgeon's call the drummer gave the warning for guard mounting, calling the guard detail to collect in their company streets. In the meantime the drum corps assembled on the parade ground and played a quickstep, to which the guards marched out and into line. When the lines were properly formed, the adjutant and sergeant-major went through certain prescribed drills, and, as the band played, inspected the guns and accouterments of the guards. Next in order the adjutant gave the commands, "Parade rest!" "Troop beat off " when the band wheeled, and playing a slow-time tune, marched down the line in front of the guards, then countermarched to the place of starting, giving at each end of the line the "three cheers " on the fifes and drums. The adjutant next turned, and saluting the officer of the day, reported, " Sir, the guard is formed." When the further ceremonies were over, the new guards were marched out to relieve the old, and to remain on duty twenty-four hours. Guard mounting was followed by picket mounting, the formalities being similar.
Battalion drill, referred to in the previous chapter, usually lasted two hours, from ten to twelve o'clock. The writer, as chief musician, was also required to drill the band during the same hours. There were also similar drills in the afternoon.
In this connection we will state that as a relief from the monotony of the usual battalion drills, the boys greatly enjoyed going outside the camp for skirmish practice, to which particular attention was given after our first battle, at Deserted Farm. A comrade, whose army letters have been placed at my disposal, gives this animated description of those drills, under date of March 5, 1863: —
" We are now having beautiful weather, and are drilling every day at a lively rate in skirmish work. It is a splendid drill, but very tiresome, as it is nearly all doublequick. Yet we enjoy it hugely. We practice skirmishing over rough ground and through bush and woods.
Half the battalion are deployed as skirmishers, while the other half are held in reserve. Whenever the skirmishers advance or retreat, the reserves do the same. We sometimes double-quick half a mile on a stretch, over ditches, rifle pits, through brush and woods. I wish you could be here to see us when we make a bayonet charge. The order is given, " Charge bayonets ! Forward ! Double quick !" and away we go, yelling like savages. You can imagine the racket eight hundred men can make, every one trying to make more noise than the rest. While Lieutenant-Colonel Thorp or Major Scott are putting us - through the drill, Colonel Gibbs will watch us, his old fat sides shaking with laughter until almost ready to burst. Both he and General Terry take great pride in the One Hundred and Thirtieth New York, and claim that, excepting the Thirteenth Indiana, it is the best-drilled regiment in this department, and we are bound to keep ahead."
DRESS PARADE.
Few of the old charter members of the regiment have forgotten those fanciful dress parades at Suffolk, when near sunset the entire regiment not on duty or excused must appear in line upon the parade ground, arrayed in their finest toggery of military uniform. Conducted by Colonel Gibbs, these parades were exceedingly punctilious affairs. Every man well knew his fate should he presume to appear in line deficient in any of the strict requirements in dress or equipments. If a button was missing, a shoe unblacked or untied, the hair unkempt) the face or hands unwashed, the Colonel's keen eye was sure to detect it, and woe to the unlucky wight, especially should the offense be repeated. It was presumed that before coming upon parade each soldier had been thoroughly drilled in the execution of every maneuver required. The one who failed was sure to hear, "Try it again, clumsy; " and after the parade would be organized into an " awkward squad," and put through the drill until he could handle his arms properly.
It seemed a long time, and very tiresome withal, to stand at "parade rest" for from a half hour to an hour during the reading of orders, silent and motionless as a row of statues, with the guard-house penalty before the man who would venture to even brush a fly from his face. And those pertinacious Suffolk flies, too ! Numerous as during the plagues of Egypt, they swarmed everywhere; and at this particular time, when our hands were tied by military requirements, took grim delight in traveling over our faces, while the big swamp musquitoes got in their bloodthirsty work upon the back of our necks and hands.
A detailed account of all the maneuverings of dress parade would require too much space, therefore only the principal features will be noticed. At a given signal the band inarched out and took position on the extreme right of the parade ground, while the several companies formed in their company streets. As the band played, all marched out and formed in order of battle on the left of the band. The formalities were similar to guard mounting, only on a grander and more impressive scale. The colonel, or senior officer, standing in front of the center of line, took command of the parade, which often consisted of from seven hundred to eight hundred or more men.
The companies being properly aligned, the adjutant commanded, "Troop beat off!" when the band moved out, wheeled, and playing common time, marched down in front of the line; then about faced, and striking up a lively quickstep, marched back to its place on the right, giving the "ruffle" or "three cheers" on fifes and drums at each end of the line. After various maneuverings the adjutant brought the ranks to open order, and aligned the company officers four paces and the field officers six paces in front, when at the command, "Present — arms ! " they saluted the commanding officer. The adjutant also in turn saluted and reported, "Sir, the parade is formed." After the several commands of the colonel in the manual of arms had been briskly executed, and the first sergeants had been to the front and center to report, the adjutant gave attention to the reading of orders. The dress parade was regarded as the great event of the day, and was frequently witnessed by crowds of spectators.
Usually during the interval from dress parade to bedtime all not on detail were free from further duty, and could devote the time to recreation, letter writing, story telling, singing, and other indulgences, as their tastes inclined them.
"Tattoo," usually occurring about nine o'clock in winter and later in the summer, was the signal for all soldiers to repair to their quarters for the night. This consisted of several quick and slow tunes by the band, ending up with a lively double-quick. Half an hour after tattoo, "taps "was sounded, when all lights were put out, and loud talking ceased.
While this chapter is fairly descriptive of the average day in camp, it is not to be understood that all days were alike. There were of course numerous interruptions and changes of program. Various incidental requirements such as policing, or cleaning up of the camp, attendance at funerals, and similar duties required tinie and attention."
Regimental history of the First New York Dragoons: (originally the 130th N.Y. Vol. Infantry) during three years of active service in the great Civil War
James Riley Bowen