Rations

[Spinster]

Re: Dried Fruit and "Leather Britches"

A fine source for commercially available dried fruit is:

http://www.oldschool.com

We've also had good luck with our state's (Alabama) agricultural bulletin, available through the cooperative extension service---we've purchased from various local farms, and had excellent luck.

Last September at Tunnel Hill, Georgia, we occupied ourselves by preparing green beans to dry. I took great bundles of them home and hung them in the attic. After about 3 days, the bundles were significantly smaller, and I pulled a clean pillow case over them--and there they stayed until last weekend, when we went to Shiloh.

We prepared them by pulling the strings out and putting them on to soak Friday night. They cooked over a slow fire Saturday and were really just getting soft enough to chew on Sunday. I also added about a dollars worth of smoked neck bones for seasoning.

While I've always known this dish as "leather britches", my partner, Susan Morris, was raised in Kentucky--and she refers to them as "rattlesnake beans".

[Andy]

Re: Dried Fruit

Thanks everyone for your great feedback! I think I will give it a shot and try to dry some of my own. (And maybe by some from an Amish seller as back up in case what I make is only suitable for squirrels and racoons. :) )

Thanks again.

Andy

[deaj02]

Coffee: Green or Roasted

Was coffee typically issued to Fed. soldiers in the green, or roasted state?
Please do not quote the regulations (which I'm aware of); I want to know what the soldiers usually received, not what the Army intended.
Also, would you all be kind enough to provide
references for your information?

Jeff D. Mr. Dean, Welcome to the AC Forums, Id like to take this oppurtunity to remind you that the signing of your full name to every post is one of the fundimental rules here. This can easily be accomplished by editing your signature in the User CP menu. Justin Runyon, Forum Moderator

[theknapsack]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Jeff,

I have a few reference that may be of some help.
In A Yankee Private's Civil War by Robert Hale Strong (105th ILL. Inf. Co. B.), he mentions "parched" coffee beans(pg 104):

". . .and coffee, sometimes with sugar. . . Our coffee was generally parched. As we had no coffee mills or grinders, we would put the parched beans in our tin cups and pound them with our bayonets, then boil them right in the cup."

He also mentions how they would boil the beans whole, dry them, put them in a sack and trade them to the local people for "cornbread, milk, or butter."
From Si Klegg and his Pard by Wilbur Hinman (Captain, Co. E., 65th OVI, Pg. 207b-208a):

"As a general thing, coffee was issued to the army roasted, but unground. This was the most convenient form for transportation in sacks or barrels. More than that, it insured to the soldier the genuine article. Had ground coffee been furnished, the virtue of the contractors would hardly have been proof against the temptation to put money in their pockets by liberal adulteration. Whatever strength it had would soon have wasted by evaporation."

Thats all I have right now, maybe I will find more references to roasted or green coffee. Should this be in the camp of instruction?

[Jim of The SRR]

Re: Dried Fruit

One account from "The Life of Billy Yank" states, "We were issued dried apples and peaches, but these seemed to be mostly dried cores and peels."
I must then assume that what soldiers were issued varied in quality.
Per Vicki's post, fruit rollups are not a new innovation. That was very interesting indeed.

Regards,
Jim Butler
The SRR

[deaj02]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

That's the kind of info. I was looking for; thanks very much! More of this type from others would be greatly appreciated. We're using it at Pamplin Historical Park to support our LH impressions.

Jeff,

I have a few reference that may be of some help.
In A Yankee Private's Civil War by Robert Hale Strong (105th ILL. Inf. Co. B.), he mentions "parched" coffee beans(pg 104):

". . .and coffee, sometimes with sugar. . . Our coffee was generally parched. As we had no coffee mills or grinders, we would put the parched beans in our tin cups and pound them with our bayonets, then boil them right in the cup."

He also mentions how they would boil the beans whole, dry them, put them in a sack and trade them to the local people for "cornbread, milk, or butter."
From Si Klegg and his Pard by Wilbur Hinman (Captain, Co. E., 65th OVI, Pg. 207b-208a):

"As a general thing, coffee was issued to the army roasted, but unground. This was the most convenient form for transportation in sacks or barrels. More than that, it insured to the soldier the genuine article. Had ground coffee been furnished, the virtue of the contractors would hardly have been proof against the temptation to put money in their pockets by liberal adulteration. Whatever strength it had would soon have wasted by evaporation."

Thats all I have right now, maybe I will find more references to roasted or green coffee. Should this be in the camp of instruction?

[Glenn Milner]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Please do not quote the regulations (which I'm aware of); I want to know what the soldiers usually received, not what the Army intended.
Also, would you all be kind enough to provide references for your information?

Well,
This is a somewhat... interesting attitude. "Do my research for me to my specifications, be quick about it and provide good documentation for me while you're at it."
Perhaps we could write a term paper for you while we're at it?
I'm wondering why this post wasn't removed by the moderators?
Glenn Milner

[coffee boiler]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Jeff, I want to thank you and the rest of the staff for putting on a great living history program. We really enjoyed working with you. As for the coffe reference, I'll take a look through my notes and see what I can dig up.

[Charles Heath]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Jeff,

"We're using it at Pamplin Historical Park to support our LH impressions."

A fixed location and a known timeframe could be useful, since these things lend themselves well to figuring out who was there and what they were doing at the time, and, with luck, what they had in terms of issue and private purchase items. You have that at Pamplin Park, which is great. A little unit specific research would help learn what may or may not have been there at the time.

In the absence of that, coffee for the federals has a few choices:

1. Green whole bean
2. Roasted whole bean
3. Roasted ground
4. Essence of coffee

Tea was also available.

The mention of impurities in coffee and shady practices by contractors brings to mind a couple of quotes. The first is this brief bit:

http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/etcbin/civwarlett-browse?id=F0667

The second is much longer, and comes from the meat packing industry. The reference to the Civil War is not immediately clear, however, it is important to remember the scale of production at the time of the war was rather industrialized, and the many documented instances of men finding unusually disgusting foreign matter in their food seems to be common. Imagine a cat's paw or claw in your sausage, and you may get the picture. Medicines, food, and many consumables were not regulated until the early 20th century, and as we all know, the Bovril "Embalmed Beef" during the Span-Am War was particularly deadly.

From Chapter 3, Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle

"There is over a square mile of space in the yards, and more than half of it is occupied by cattle pens; north and south as far as the eye can reach there stretches a sea of pens. And they were all filled--so many cattle no one had ever dreamed existed in the world. Red cattle, black, white, and yellow cattle; old cattle and young cattle; great bellowing bulls and little calves not an hour born; meek-eyed milch cows and fierce, long-horned Texas steers. The sound of them here was as of all the barnyards of the universe; and as for counting them--it would have taken all day simply to count the pens. Here and there ran long alleys, blocked at intervals by gates; and Jokubas told them that the number of these gates was twenty-five thousand. Jokubas had recently been reading a newspaper article which was full of statistics such as that, and he was very proud as he repeated them and made his guests cry out with wonder. Jurgis too had a little of this sense of pride. Had he not just gotten a job, and become a sharer in all this activity, a cog in this marvelous machine? Here and there about the alleys galloped men upon horseback, booted, and carrying long whips; they were very busy, calling to each other, and to those who were driving the cattle. They were drovers and stock raisers, who had come from far states, and brokers and commission merchants, and buyers for all the big packing houses.

Here and there they would stop to inspect a bunch of cattle, and there would be a parley, brief and businesslike. The buyer would nod or drop his whip, and that would mean a bargain; and he would note it in his little book, along with hundreds of others he had made that morning. Then Jokubas pointed out the place where the cattle were driven to be weighed, upon a great scale that would weigh a hundred thousand pounds at once and record it automatically. It was near to the east entrance that they stood, and all along this east side of the yards ran the railroad tracks, into which the cars were run, loaded with cattle. All night long this had been going on, and now the pens were full; by tonight they would all be empty, and the same thing would be done again.

"And what will become of all these creatures?" cried Teta Elzbieta.
"By tonight," Jokubas answered, "they will all be killed and cut up; and over there on the other side of the packing houses are more railroad tracks, where the cars come to take them away."

There were two hundred and fifty miles of track within the yards, their guide went on to tell them. They brought about ten thousand head of cattle every day, and as many hogs, and half as many sheep--which meant some eight or ten million live creatures turned into food every year. One stood and watched, and little by little caught the drift of the tide, as it set in the direction of the packing houses. There were groups of cattle being driven to the chutes, which were roadways about fifteen feet wide, raised high above the pens. In these chutes the stream of animals was continuous; it was quite uncanny to watch them, pressing on to their fate, all unsuspicious a very river of death. Our friends were not poetical, and the sight suggested to them no metaphors of human destiny; they thought only of the wonderful efficiency of it all. The chutes into which the hogs went climbed high up--to the very top of the distant buildings; and Jokubas explained that the hogs went up by the power of their own legs, and then their weight carried them back through all the processes necessary to make them into pork.

"They don't waste anything here," said the guide, and then he laughed and added a witticism, which he was pleased that his unsophisticated friends should take to be his own: "They use everything about the hog except the squeal." In front of Brown's General Office building there grows a tiny plot of grass, and this, you may learn, is the only bit of green thing in Packingtown; likewise this jest about the hog and his squeal, the stock in trade of all the guides, is the one gleam of humor that you will find there.

After they had seen enough of the pens, the party went up the street, to the mass of buildings which occupy the center of the yards. These buildings, made of brick and stained with innumerable layers of Packingtown smoke, were painted all over with advertising signs, from which the visitor realized suddenly that he had come to the home of many of the torments of his life. It was here that they made those products with the wonders of which they pestered him so--by placards that defaced the landscape when he traveled, and by staring advertisements in the newspapers and magazines--by silly little jingles that he could not get out of his mind, and gaudy pictures that lurked for him around every street corner. Here was where they made Brown's Imperial Hams and Bacon, Brown's Dressed Beef, Brown's Excelsior Sausages! Here was the headquarters of Durham's Pure Leaf Lard, of Durham's Breakfast Bacon, Durham's Canned Beef, Potted Ham, Deviled Chicken, Peerless Fertilizer!

Entering one of the Durham buildings, they found a number of other visitors waiting; and before long there came a guide, to escort them through the place. They make a great feature of showing strangers through the packing plants, for it is a good advertisement. But Ponas Jokubas whispered maliciously that the visitors did not see any more than the packers wanted them to. They climbed a long series of stairways outside of the building, to the top of its five or six stories. Here was the chute, with its river of hogs, all patiently toiling upward; there was a place for them to rest to cool off, and then through another passageway they went into a room from which there is no returning for hogs.

It was a long, narrow room, with a gallery along it for visitors. At the head there was a great iron wheel, about twenty feet in circumference, with rings here and there along its edge. Upon both sides of this wheel there was a narrow space, into which came the hogs at the end of their journey; in the midst of them stood a great burly Negro, bare-armed and bare-chested. He was resting for the moment, for the wheel had stopped while men were cleaning up. In a minute or two, however, it began slowly to revolve, and then the men upon each side of it sprang to work. They had chains which they fastened about the leg of the nearest hog, and the other end of the chain they hooked into one of the rings upon the wheel. So, as the wheel turned, a hog was suddenly jerked off his feet and borne aloft.

At the same instant the car was assailed by a most terrifying shriek; the visitors started in alarm, the women turned pale and shrank back. The shriek was followed by another, louder and yet more agonizing-- for once started upon that journey, the hog never came back; at the top of the wheel he was shunted off upon a trolley, and went sailing down the room. And meantime another was swung up, and then another, and another, until there was a double line of them, each dangling by a foot and kicking in frenzy--and squealing. The uproar was appalling, perilous to the eardrums; one feared there was too much sound for the room to hold--that the walls must give way or the ceiling crack. There were high squeals and low squeals, grunts, and wails of agony; there would come a momentary lull, and then a fresh outburst, louder than ever, surging up to a deafening climax. It was too much for some of the visitors--the men would look at each other, laughing nervously, and the women would stand with hands clenched, and the blood rushing to their faces, and the tears starting in their eyes.

Meantime, heedless of all these things, the men upon the floor were going about their work. Neither squeals of hogs nor tears of visitors made any difference to them; one by one they hooked up the hogs, and one by one with a swift stroke they slit their throats. There was a long line of hogs, with squeals and lifeblood ebbing away together; until at last each started again, and vanished with a splash into a huge vat of boiling water.

It was all so very businesslike that one watched it fascinated. It was porkmaking by machinery, porkmaking by applied mathematics. And yet somehow the most matter-of-fact person could not help thinking of the hogs; they were so innocent, they came so very trustingly; and they were so very human in their protests--and so perfectly within their rights! They had done nothing to deserve it; and it was adding insult to injury, as the thing was done here, swinging them up in this cold-blooded, impersonal way, without a pretense of apology, without the homage of a tear. Now and then a visitor wept, to be sure; but this slaughtering machine ran on, visitors or no visitors. It was like some horrible crime committed in a dungeon, all unseen and unheeded, buried out of sight and of memory.

One could not stand and watch very long without becoming philosophical, without beginning to deal in symbols and similes, and to hear the hog squeal of the universe. Was it permitted to believe that there was nowhere upon the earth, or above the earth, a heaven for hogs, where they were requited for all this suffering? Each one of these hogs was a separate creature. Some were white hogs, some were black; some were brown, some were spotted; some were old, some young; some were long and lean, some were monstrous. And each of them had an individuality of his own, a will of his own, a hope and a heart's desire; each was full of self- confidence, of self-importance, and a sense of dignity. And trusting and strong in faith he had gone about his business, the while a black shadow hung over him and a horrid Fate waited in his pathway. Now suddenly it had swooped upon him, and had seized him by the leg. Relentless, remorseless, it was; all his protests, his screams, were nothing to it-- it did its cruel will with him, as if his wishes, his feelings, had simply no existence at all; it cut his throat and watched him gasp out his life. And now was one to believe that there was nowhere a god of hogs, to whom this hog personality was precious, to whom these hog squeals and agonies had a meaning? Who would take this hog into his arms and comfort him, reward him for his work well done, and show him the meaning of his sacrifice? Perhaps some glimpse of all this was in the thoughts of our humble-minded Jurgis, as he turned to go on with the rest of the party, and muttered: "Dieve--but I'm glad I'm not a hog!"

The carcass hog was scooped out of the vat by machinery, and then it fell to the second floor, passing on the way through a wonderful machine with numerous scrapers, which adjusted themselves to the size and shape of the animal, and sent it out at the other end with nearly all of its bristles removed. It was then again strung up by machinery, and sent upon another trolley ride; this time passing between two lines of men, who sat upon a raised platform, each doing a certain single thing to the carcass as it came to him. One scraped the outside of a leg; another scraped the inside of the same leg. One with a swift stroke cut the throat; another with two swift strokes severed the head, which fell to the floor and vanished through a hole. Another made a slit down the body; a second opened the body wider; a third with a saw cut the breastbone; a fourth loosened the entrails; a fifth pulled them out-- and they also slid through a hole in the floor. There were men to scrape each side and men to scrape the back; there were men to clean the carcass inside, to trim it and wash it. Looking down this room, one saw, creeping slowly, a line of dangling hogs a hundred yards in length; and for every yard there was a man, working as if a demon were after him. At the end of this hog's progress every inch of the carcass had been gone over several times; and then it was rolled into the chilling room, where it stayed for twenty-four hours, and where a stranger might lose himself in a forest of freezing hogs.

Before the carcass was admitted here, however, it had to pass a government inspector, who sat in the doorway and felt of the glands in the neck for tuberculosis. This government inspector did not have the manner of a man who was worked to death; he was apparently not haunted by a fear that the hog might get by him before he had finished his testing. If you were a sociable person, he was quite willing to enter into conversation with you, and to explain to you the deadly nature of the ptomaines which are found in tubercular pork; and while he was talking with you you could hardly be so ungrateful as to notice that a dozen carcasses were passing him untouched. This inspector wore a blue uniform, with brass buttons, and he gave an atmosphere of authority to the scene, and, as it were, put the stamp of official approval upon the things which were done in Durham's.

Jurgis went down the line with the rest of the visitors, staring openmouthed, lost in wonder. He had dressed hogs himself in the forest of Lithuania; but he had never expected to live to see one hog dressed by several hundred men. It was like a wonderful poem to him, and he took it all in guilelessly--even to the conspicuous signs demanding immaculate cleanliness of the employees. Jurgis was vexed when the cynical Jokubas translated these signs with sarcastic comments, offering to take them to the secret rooms where the spoiled meats went to be doctored.

The party descended to the next floor, where the various waste materials were treated. Here came the entrails, to be scraped and washed clean for sausage casings; men and women worked here in the midst of a sickening stench, which caused the visitors to hasten by, gasping. To another room came all the scraps to be "tanked," which meant boiling and pumping off the grease to make soap and lard; below they took out the refuse, and this, too, was a region in which the visitors did not linger. In still other places men were engaged in cutting up the carcasses that had been through the chilling rooms. First there were the "splitters," the most expert workmen in the plant, who earned as high as fifty cents an hour, and did not a thing all day except chop hogs down the middle. Then there were "cleaver men," great giants with muscles of iron; each had two men to attend him--to slide the half carcass in front of him on the table, and hold it while he chopped it, and then turn each piece so that he might chop it once more. His cleaver had a blade about two feet long, and he never made but one cut; he made it so neatly, too, that his implement did not smite through and dull itself--there was just enough force for a perfect cut, and no more. So through various yawning holes there slipped to the floor below--to one room hams, to another forequarters, to another sides of pork. One might go down to this floor and see the pickling rooms, where the hams were put into vats, and the great smoke rooms, with their airtight iron doors. In other rooms they prepared salt pork--there were whole cellars full of it, built up in great towers to the ceiling. In yet other rooms they were putting up meats in boxes and barrels, and wrapping hams and bacon in oiled paper, sealing and labeling and sewing them. From the doors of these rooms went men with loaded trucks, to the platform where freight cars were waiting to be filled; and one went out there and realized with a start that he had come at last to the ground floor of this enormous building.

Then the party went across the street to where they did the killing of beef--where every hour they turned four or five hundred cattle into meat. Unlike the place they had left, all this work was done on one floor; and instead of there being one line of carcasses which moved to the workmen, there were fifteen or twenty lines, and the men moved from one to another of these. This made a scene of intense activity, a picture of human power wonderful to watch. It was all in one great room, like a circus amphitheater, with a gallery for visitors running over the center.

Along one side of the room ran a narrow gallery, a few feet from the floor; into which gallery the cattle were driven by men with goads which gave them electric shocks. Once crowded in here, the creatures were prisoned, each in a separate pen, by gates that shut, leaving them no room to turn around; and while they stood bellowing and plunging, over the top of the pen there leaned one of the "knockers," armed with a sledge hammer, and watching for a chance to deal a blow. The room echoed with the thuds in quick succession, and the stamping and kicking of the steers. The instant the animal had fallen, the "knocker" passed on to another; while a second man raised a lever, and the side of the pen was raised, and the animal, still kicking and struggling, slid out to the "killing bed." Here a man put shackles about one leg, and pressed another lever, and the body was jerked up into the air. There were fifteen or twenty such pens, and it was a matter of only a couple of minutes to knock fifteen or twenty cattle and roll them out. Then once more the gates were opened, and another lot rushed in; and so out of each pen there rolled a steady stream of carcasses, which the men upon the killing beds had to get out of the way.

The manner in which they did this was something to be seen and never forgotten. They worked with furious intensity, literally upon the run-- at a pace with which there is nothing to be compared except a football game. It was all highly specialized labor, each man having his task to do; generally this would consist of only two or three specific cuts, and he would pass down the line of fifteen or twenty carcasses, making these cuts upon each. First there came the "butcher," to bleed them; this meant one swift stroke, so swift that you could not see it--only the flash of the knife; and before you could realize it, the man had darted on to the next line, and a stream of bright red was pouring out upon the floor. This floor was half an inch deep with blood, in spite of the best efforts of men who kept shoveling it through holes; it must have made the floor slippery, but no one could have guessed this by watching the men at work.

The carcass hung for a few minutes to bleed; there was no time lost, however, for there were several hanging in each line, and one was always ready. It was let down to the ground, and there came the "headsman," whose task it was to sever the head, with two or three swift strokes. Then came the "floorsman," to make the first cut in the skin; and then another to finish ripping the skin down the center; and then half a dozen more in swift succession, to finish the skinning. After they were through, the carcass was again swung up; and while a man with a stick examined the skin, to make sure that it had not been cut, and another rolled it tip and tumbled it through one of the inevitable holes in the floor, the beef proceeded on its journey. There were men to cut it, and men to split it, and men to gut it and scrape it clean inside. There were some with hose which threw jets of boiling water upon it, and others who removed the feet and added the final touches. In the end, as with the hogs, the finished beef was run into the chilling room, to hang its appointed time.

The visitors were taken there and shown them, all neatly hung in rows, labeled conspicuously with the tags of the government inspectors--and some, which had been killed by a special process, marked with the sign of the kosher rabbi, certifying that it was fit for sale to the orthodox. And then the visitors were taken to the other parts of the building, to see what became of each particle of the waste material that had vanished through the floor; and to the pickling rooms, and the salting rooms, the canning rooms, and the packing rooms, where choice meat was prepared for shipping in refrigerator cars, destined to be eaten in all the four corners of civilization. Afterward they went outside, wandering about among the mazes of buildings in which was done the work auxiliary to this great industry. There was scarcely a thing needed in the business that Durham and Company did not make for themselves. There was a great steam power plant and an electricity plant.

There was a barrel factory, and a boiler-repair shop. There was a building to which the grease was piped, and made into soap and lard; and then there was a factory for making lard cans, and another for making soap boxes. There was a building in which the bristles were cleaned and dried, for the making of hair cushions and such things; there was a building where the skins were dried and tanned, there was another where heads and feet were made into glue, and another where bones were made into fertilizer. No tiniest particle of organic matter was wasted in Durham's. Out of the horns of the cattle they made combs, buttons, hairpins, and imitation ivory; out of the shinbones and other big bones they cut knife and toothbrush handles, and mouthpieces for pipes; out of the hoofs they cut hairpins and buttons, before they made the rest into glue. From such things as feet, knuckles, hide clippings, and sinews came such strange and unlikely products as gelatin, isinglass, and phosphorus, bone black, shoe blacking, and bone oil. They had curled-hair works for the cattle tails, and a "wool pullery" for the sheepskins; they made pepsin from the stomachs of the pigs, and albumen from the blood, and violin strings from the ill-smelling entrails. When there was nothing else to be done with a thing, they first put it into a tank and got out of it all the tallow and grease, and then they made it into fertilizer. All these industries were gathered into buildings near by, connected by galleries and railroads with the main establishment; and it was estimated that they had handled nearly a quarter of a billion of animals since the founding of the plant by the elder Durham a generation and more ago. If you counted with it the other big plants--and they were now really all one--it was, so Jokubas informed them, the greatest aggregation of labor and capital ever gathered in one place. It employed thirty thousand men; it suppported directly two hundred and fifty thousand people in its neighborhood, and indirectly it supported half a million. It sent its products to every country in the civilized world, and it furnished the food for no less than thirty million people!
To all of these things our friends would listen openmouthed--it seemed to them impossible of belief that anything so stupendous could have been devised by mortal man. That was why to Jurgis it seemed almost profanity to speak about the place as did Jokubas, skeptically; it was a thing as tremendous as the universe--the laws and ways of its working no more than the universe to be questioned or understood. All that a mere man could do, it seemed to Jurgis, was to take a thing like this as he found it, and do as he was told; to be given a place in it and a share in its wonderful activities was a blessing to be grateful for, as one was grateful for the sunshine and the rain. Jurgis was even glad that he had not seen the place before meeting with his triumph, for he felt that the size of it would have overwhelmed him. But now he had been admitted--he was a part of it all! He had the feeling that this whole huge establishment had taken him under its protection, and had become responsible for his welfare. So guileless was he, and ignorant of the nature of business, that he did not even realize that he had become an employee of Brown's, and that Brown and Durham were supposed by all the world to be deadly rivals--were even required to be deadly rivals by the law of the land, and ordered to try to ruin each other under penalty of fine and imprisonment!"

This is telling, "...offering to take them to the secret rooms where the spoiled meats went to be doctored." In other sections of the book describing the practices of Packingtown, the "ingredients" are even more morbid. If it could be swept from the floor, it went into production. While a postwar look at meatpacking practices, much the same can be said for wartime food packaging practices, if not worse.

Why is that important? The military figured they would be robbed if they trusted their suppliers to provide them with ground coffee. Walnut and chestnut sawdust both resemble ground coffee, and were good product stretchers, and in an era when rocks were placed in bacon boxes to up the weight, shady and unsanitary practices were common.

Here's a brief article that may be of some help. It was first posted in May 1999, and recently updated.

Notes on Coffee
Copyright 1999, 2004 Charles Heath

The coffee making question bodes well for both the loquacious reenacting philosopher, and the famished inner man. Making coffee goes far beyond the simple act of boiling something in a cup, and it begins with building a fire.
Coffee in a mess cup will usually be made while in camp, or at a halt while on the march. Many picket posts are ordered to be "cold," therefore, there is no fire. Subsitute a nice quality tinned can boiler, such as peach or tomato, for the mess cup if so desired. It will most likely let the mess cup last longer.

There is a difference in fire-building technique between a roadside cup of coffee and making one in camp. For the fire on the march, you'll want a "hot fire" and not the delightful bed of coals we normally associate with a "camp" or "cooking fire." Combustibles such as dry twigs, pine cones, gum balls, dried dung, lighterwood, pine straw, dry leaves, and softwoods will produce a hot fire. (Now, some wag usually asks if all fires are hot. Yes, some fires are hotter than others. Take, for example, the difference between a fire utilized for forge welding and a fire for barbequeing a pig.) This means a short duration fire to boil water quickly, and the quicker the better.

This small fire need not be much larger than the diameter of the mess cup, but remember 3-4 other pards will in all likelyhood be right there with ready cup. This is where a bail on a cup can come in handy to keep it in the sweet spot of the fire when the bayonet is on the musket in the stacks, yet small branches are available as cooking implements. Many small fires work better than one big fire in this instance. With a 10-15 minute halt, and some teamwork, a good cup of coffee can be had, and shared. Moving out while the coffee is half boiled is a period experience, as sad as it is, so it straggling to "cool" your coffee. In camp, the mess fire will normally be larger, and coffee preparation can be accomplished at a more leisurely pace. This fire affords coals by which to bring the water to a rolling boil slowly. Remember, the fastest cup of coffee is not necessarily the best, but while on the march one need not be picky about the beverage known as "the soldier's restorative."

Over time, you'll discover how different woods provide different fires. Yellow pine provides heat, but little or no coals. Hickory cranks out the BTUs. Oak coals well, but green oak is tough to burn. Walnut burns fast, but provides little heat. Poplar and soft maples acting in a similar fashion, but they produce a little more heat. Sweet gum is a world unto itself. A big piece of beech, persimmon, rock maple, cherry, or elm can be a good nightcap for the fire. Ironwood (a beech) makes a nice "cook set," if you are so inclined. The boys of '61 knew more about wood than most of us ever will. Learning the local wood can be a blessing.

So much for fire philosophy.

The coffee itself creates a debate from time to time. As a very loose rule of thumb, for federals, green coffee beans were early war, roasted coffee whole and ground begin to show up in mid-war, and in late war roasted ground coffee is common. Take these time spans loosely, as there was a lot of overlap. It really depends on the research for the scenario. Ground coffee shows up throughout the war, as does green whole bean, roast whole bean, and once in a while a mention of essence of coffee is out there. It appears to be a love/hate relationship with the latter.

While it has been rightly suggested ground coffee from the contractor is subject to adulteration, the reason for the conversion from green coffee beans to roasted ground can be attributed to a federal surgeon who noticed how much coffee was wasted by soldiers roasting and grinding their own. The story of this process, and the period letter describing the wasted coffee, was reprinted in a Civil War Times Illustrated article a few years ago. The doctor believed coffee was akin to a miracle drug, and was fighting hard to make sure soldiers received their fair share in a useable form.

If you haven't had the pleasure of working with green coffee beans, I suggest a simple search at http:// www.google.com for "green coffee" or "green coffee beans." Prices were hovering around less than $3 per pound shipped a few months ago when I bought my last batch. Go in with a pard on the coffee, as 5 pounds of beans is a bit much for one fellow. Some smaller volume vendors catering to the needs of the CW reenactor can supply smaller quantities.

This roasting and grinding of green coffee is a great vignette builder for those laid-back living history event ration issues. It takes time to develop the roasting skill, and the pards seem to enjoy fooling with the beans as an activity. Fit the type of coffee to be issued to the scenario if there is no other documentation to guide you.

Roasting the beans is a slow task. If you like nasty coffee, burn those beans quickly over a hot fire. You'll know when they are done, as the sweet coffee smell is overpowering. Test a few beans first before making coffee. It takes a little more skill to roast coffee beans at night, but it can be done.

For those interested in roasted beans at a moderate price, check near the bulk coffee beans in the local supermarket for pre-bagged house brand coffee beans. The local grocery store has them less than $3 per bag, and it is surprisingly good coffee. It doesn't have to be good, just hot, black, and slightly bitter.

To grind or not to grind? Try it both ways, and the ground coffee appears to release more coffee flavor in a shorter amount of time. On the other hand, if you need to stretch a small quantity of beans, boiling them whole can make a handful last for days. Whole beans can be used several times before crushing or trading to the local citizens for food, too.

Having a very small period reproduction coffee grinder at an early war event on the battalion wagon with the mess kettles might be fun, but for the most part grinding is in the mess cup with a bayonet, or in the plate with a musket butt (cover the beans in cloth first to prevent flying bean projectiles), or some other means. By nesting two canteen halves, a perfectly good grinder can be formed, too. Grinding beans can be more fun than it sounds, so give it a try sometime.

What about the ground coffee? It works fine, and will go just as stale in the haversack as anywhere else. Ground coffee also has the ability to pick up flavors, so when my favorite coffee-stealing-pard filches my coffee, he usually complains it tastes like salt-pork, slab bacon, or salt-fish. Um, don't put the lye soap next to the ground coffee, either. It is a bad move.

Coffee makers generally fall into two camps. The boil-then-add camp, and the add-then-boil camp. The latter works well enough for me, but some folks do like to get the water boiling before adding their coffee. I'm sure the boys of '61 argued the same thing with the same enthusiasm as any Liliputian egg-end debator.

Covering the bottom of the cup with 3/4" to 7/8" of grounds to start (I like coffee that walks and talks then grabs me by the throat and slaps me around for a while), but secret is in the slow boil. For me, filling the cup 1/2-2/3 full with water after the grounds are delivered, and letting the coffee come to a rolling boil makes a good cup of coffee. The only time I stir the coffee is when I add the water. If the coffee appears to be more akin to a spewing volcano of Guiness Stout than a gently bubbling cup of Java, then the fire is too hot.

Resist temptation, and don't stir the dang coffee at this point, Jonah. Let the coffee boil gently over some nice coals for 4-5 minutes. The longer it boils, the better the elixir, but don't let it become a foul tar-like substance. Watch the coffee carefully at the 3.5-4 minute point, as that's when bigfooted Jonah is most likely to knock over your coffee. If a horseshoe stands up in the coffee it is about right. If the horseshoe stands up for a moment and then dissolves slowly, the coffee is ready for consumption.

Remove the cup with the mess rag, add a few ounces of cold water to settle the grounds, and let the cup sit for a moment on the ground so the cup cools. (Remember to soak that canteen cover upon filling, so the water will at least be cool from evaporation, per the designer's intent.)Sometimes a canteen without a cover makes a good heat sink to cool the rim of the cup. For those who don't mind carrying an extra piece of tin, the classic peach can boiler works well for making coffee and then shifting it into the mess cup. My favorite coffee-stealing-pard (he knows who he is) does this, and it works just fine. The boiler comes in handy for other things as well.

Some folks strain their coffee with an old tea strainer. Is that something you want in your knapsack? Maybe not. Some folks have elaborate boil, lift, boil, schemes. Well, I'd lose the dang tea strainer the first time I fiddled around in the knapsack at 2:30 a.m., and I'm lucky not to spill the coffee handling it just twice. What works for you works for you.

Haven't said much about confederate coffee. Cargo documents indicate coffee came into Wilmington up until the capture of that fine port. Just about every account of the Appomattox Campaign mentions Lee and Longstreet's encounter with the first "real" coffee they had enjoyed in ages while dining with a civilian family, so coffee was certainly around. Adverstisements for real coffee show up in Petersburg newspapers in very late war, so the expensive elixir was available for civilians. It was available through the supply system in some quantity, available through trading with the yanks, and available via foraging. All of this is nice, but in my humble opinion we should be using more coffee substitutes as the war progresses, and be very happy when a CS pard shows up with a rare quantity real coffee. Of course, all of this depends on the event scenario. Substitutes are a whole world unto themselves, and a fun one to explore. Vicki Betts has some good coffee substitute information online, if memory serves me.

So, what's a substitute? Ready to use chicory can be found in grocery stores, and it beats digging, grating, roasting, etc. just to get an ersatz coffee. Sweet potatoes thinly sliced and baked in the oven make an interesting brew that's not half bad. Roasted barley, wheat or rye is a good drink, and Postum brand coffee substitute is not that far away from that. I have tried ground roasted okra seeds (hey, a great use for those woody end-of-the-season-pods), and it has an interesting taste. Avoid those pink/treated seeds found in the stores this time of year, as they are poison.

Roasted peanut hulls make good coffee. I have not tried acorns yet, but they were used. Probably the worst cup of coffee I've ever had is from dry roasted corn meal. Part of the confederate reenactor's experience should be trying these substitutes and appreciating the experience. While I can find no documentation for it, with the exception of chicory, ground coffee could be adulterated with these "coffee stretchers" for effect. If sawdust is used as a filler, avoid walnut, oak, exotic woods, and any anti-rot treated lumber.

Raw sugar can be had in the form of "Sugar in the Raw" in 2lb boxes from Cumberland Packing Corp., 2 Cumberland Street, Brooklyn, NY 11205 or http://www.sugarintheraw.com Most grocery stores carry it these days, and many in smaller size bags.

A type of sugar is available from the Hispanic section of many markets (even Wal-Mart). These are small cones. In the last few years, smaller cones are falling into disfavor due to additional research. Broken up small cones look a lot like broken up large cones if the pieces are small enough. Larger cones and nippers are available from James Townsend and Sons, and elsewhere. Molasses is a dandy sweetnener, but it begs a tight container. it can be bought in bulk from the local feed mill. Honey is good, and is sometimes available, and even lemon drops being used to sweeten and flavor coffee.

Essence of coffee was available, and provides much entertainment watching men attempt to spooning the stubborn substance from a container. Tins and labels are readily available for those who want to tin their own Essence of coffee. Several recipes are online. This is a good link as a starting point for Essence of Coffee information:

http://www.fugawee.com/coffee.htm

Perhaps another way, courtesy of J. Gillett via Camp Chase Gazette, but this uses modern ingredients:

"Add a teaspoon of instant coffee, powdered cream, and sugar untill have your desired amount. Then, carefully, add teaspoons of water untill you stir it into a THICK paste. If it gets too runny, add more amounts of the prediscribed ingredients."

What of canned ground coffee? According to the Coffee FAQ website, "The first company to sell coffee in a sealed tin container was Chase & Sanborn in 1878. At this time most people still roasted their own coffee at home. Chase & Sanborn sole coffee in sealed one and two pound cans as 'Chase & Sanborn Seal Brand' and 'Crusade Coffee'." So, that makes it very much post war.

That is probably more than you wanted to know, and then some. Don't take my word for it, instead take some quality time to reread what the usual first person accounts say about coffee. What about a coffee pot? Depending on the scenario, they can be just fine. Just remember who has to tote the thing."

A good way to interpret rations for younger folks:

http://www.nps.gov/gett/gettkidz/hardtack.htm

I'd like to thank Silas of CHAPs for reminding me to at least get around to updating this coffee article, and having a few odds and ends to add to it.

Petersburg Campaign? Hmmm, I wonder if the federals were roasting and grinding coffee in bulk back in the City Point commissary area where they were baking bread so fresh it was still warm by the time it arrived by USMRR train to be issued to the front line troops? Might be an area for additional research as part of that CW era forward depot concept.

Lots of holes in this, but it may be of some use.

Charles Heath

[deaj02]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Charles, thanks for your reply.

We do have a few refs. on CS coffee (detailed citations available on request):
"Our ration of meat has been reduced to a quarter of a pound of bacon per day, or three quarters of a pound of beef, but they are giving us lard in place of it. Besides we draw sugar, rice, coffee, and dried fruit pretty often. Our flour rations is eighteen ounces per day yet, and very likely to be so for the winter." [Garibaldi, 27th Va. Inf., ANV, letter #29, 1/9/64, Camp near Orange C. H.]
"This winter we drew coffee and sugar regular. They are making out to give us some clothing every once and a while so that there is not much complaining in camp." [ditto, letter #33, 4/22/64, Camp Stonewall Brigade]
"Our rations were not abundant while at Taylorsville; one pint of unsieved meal and a quarter of a pound of bacon per day. Coffee was made of parched wheat rye, and sometimes of rice when we had it." [Johnston, 7th Va., ANV, p. 236, Winter 63-64, Taylorsville, Va.]

[deaj02]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Jeff, I want to thank you and the rest of the staff for putting on a great living history program. We really enjoyed working with you. As for the coffe reference, I'll take a look through my notes and see what I can dig up.

Thanks, Bob. I was a small player in a big show. You guys did great. I especially appreciated your loud cheers at the appropriate times during the recruitment rally. Getting Union recruits from a pro-southern crowd can be difficult!

[MontReb]

Mechanical Baking Co.

A few months ago someone inquired as to the status of Mechanical Baking Co.. I can no longer access their web site, and I was wondering if anyone knew if they were still in business.

[Charles Heath]

Re: Mechanical Baking Co.

...I was wondering if anyone knew if they were still in business.

Why not give them a call? This phone number may or may not still be current: (309) 353-2414.

Charles Heath

[Agate]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Concerning green coffee beans issued to the Federal Army.

Does anybody have anything that specifically supports the purchase of green coffee by the US Subsistence Department in any quantity during the earlier (or any, for the matter) period of the Civil War?

I understand that it is widely accepted, my question is what is this based upon? Is it advertisements, or is it the fact that someone found that one could purchase these goods from an earlier period living history supplier, thought it neat, and it becoming a trend.

I've looked for advertisements from the QMD for clothing in papers both east and west, and during different periods of the war, and have run into a number of advertisements placed by the Subsistence Department. I don't believe I've ever come across such concerning the procurement of green coffee. What follows serves as an example of what I have found:

Cincinnati Daily Gazette
April 4, 1862
Pge. 3, Col. 4

Army Stores

Bids will be received (from first hands and from citizens loyal to the Government of the United States only, and from whom the oath of allegiance will be required on acceptance of bid,) until 12 M., April 4th, 1862, marked "Proposals to be opened April 4th, 1862." for-

350 brls. Mess Pork, full weight;
50,000 lbs Bacon Sides, ribbed, in 200 lb strong boxes, strapped;
333,000 lbs. Hard Bread, in 50 lb. boxes, strapped;
300 bush. Beans in barrels lined;
33,000 lbs. Hominy. course, in brls. lined;
1,000 lbs. Black Tea, in strong boxes;
30,000 lbs. Rio Coffee, roasted, not ground, in barrels lined;
50,600 lbs. Brown sugar, in barrels lined;
4,300 lbs. Star Candles, full weight;
13,300 lbs Soap, in boxes;
210 bush Salt, in barrels lined;
633 gals Molasses, in barrels;
633 gals. Whiskey, in brls.

Cooperage must be of the best kind, and no charge for packages. All the above stores to be the best quality, to be ready for delivery on the Eighth day of April 1862, and bills in detail must be rendered by or before that day. Certificates of inspection, signed by the authorized inspector, must accompany each bill. Actual tare required. Packages to be marked, "C. S. Nashville, Tenn." Also with the contents, name, and address of seller. Bids for part of the above stores received-which for convenience, should be separate for different articles. The Beans and Salt to be in measured bushels. Marked samples required, except meats. The hardbread must be thoroughly dried and cooled before packing. For the Roasted Coffee, samples of the green coffee will be required.

C. L. Kilburn, Maj. and C. S.

In the very same colum btw, is an advertisement for beef to be delivered at Washington, as well as another from Kilburn (in Cincinnati) to be delivered at Nashville.

I would really like to see firm documentation supporting green coffee issued to the Federal Army. As I've asked for this before on the board, and nothing was presented, could we please do so now, or put it to rest as a reenactorism.


Regards,

John Sarver
Co. D,
1st Regt. Ky. Vols.
Cin. O.

[Hank Trent]

Re: Coffee: Green or Roasted

Searching the ORs for "green" near "coffee" gives a few examples.

Here's one, from a letter written by Charles Tripler, medical director of the Army of the Potomac, on Feb. 7, 1863, concerning the period Aug. 12, 1861 to March 17, 1862:

"...a regimental surgeon complained to me that green coffee was issued to his men, without the means of properly roasting it, and that they could not get the 'extra' rations ordered. Colonel Clarke, to whom I referred the complaint, promptly replied that green coffee was always issued; that it should be roasted in a mess-pan, or a Dutch-oven, or other vessel, purchased with the company fund..."

Hank Trent
hanktrent@voyager.net