58. Tent Life
By JOHN D. BILLINGS (1861)
ENTER with me into a Sibley tent which is not stockaded. If it is cold weather, we
shall find the cone-shaped stove, which I have already mentioned,
standing in the centre.— These stoves were useless for cooking purposes, and the men were likely to
burn—their blankets on them in the night, so that many of the troops utilized them by building a small
brick or stone oven below, in which they did their cooking, setting the stove on top as a part of the flue.
The length of pipe furnished by the government was not sufficient to reach the opening at the top, and the
result was that unless the inmates bought more to piece it out, the upper part of such tent was as black
and sooty as a chimney flue.
The dozen men occupying a Sibley tent slept with their feet toward the centre. The choice place to occupy was that portion opposite the door, as one was not then in the
way of passers in and out, although he was himself more or less of a nuisance to others when he came in. The tent was most crowded at meal times, for, owing to its
shape, there can be no standing or sitting erect except about the centre. But while there was more or less growling at accidents by some, there was much forbearance by
others, and, aside from the vexations arising from the constitutional blundering of some, these little knots were quite family-like and sociable.
The manner in which the time was spent in tents varied with the disposition of the inmates. It was not always practicable for men of kindred tastes to band themselves
under the same canvas, and so just as they differed in their avocations as citizens, they differed in their social life, and many kinds of pastimes went on simultaneously. Of
course, all wrote letters more or less, but there were a few men who seemed to spend the most of their spare time in this occupation. Especially was this so in the earlier
part of a man's
war experience. The side or end strip of a hardtack box, held on the knees, constituted the writing-desk on which this operation was performed. It is well remembered that
in the early months of the war silver
money disappeared, as it commanded a premium, so that, change being scarce, postage stamps were used
instead. This was before scrip was issued by the government to take the place of silver; and although
the use of stamps as change was not authorized by
the national government, yet everybody took them, and the soldiers in particular just about to leave for the war carried large quantities away with them not all in the best of
condition. This could hardly be expected when they had been through so many hands. They were passed about in little envelopes, containing twenty-five and fifty cents in
value.
Many an old soldier can recall his disgust on finding, what a mess his stamps were in either from rain, perspiration, or compression, as he attempted, after a hot march, to
get one for a letter. If he could split off one from a welded mass of perhaps a hundred or more, he counted himself fortunate. Of course they could be soaked out after a
while, but he would need to dry them on a griddle afterward, they were so sticky. It was later than this that the postmaster-general issued an order allowing soldiers to send
letters without prepayment; but, if I recollect right, it was necessary to write on the outside "Soldier's Letter."
Besides letter-writing the various games of cards were freely engaged in. Many men played for money. Cribbage and euchre were favorite games. Reading was a pastime
quite generally indulged in, and there was no novel so dull, trashy, or sensational as not to find some one so bored with nothing to do that he would wade through it.
Chequers was a popular game among the soldiers, backgammon less so, and it was only rarely that the statelier and less familiar game of chess was to be observed on the
board. There were some soldiers who rarely joined in any games. In this class were to be found the illiterate members of a company. Of course they did not read or write,
and they rarely played cards. They were usually satisfied to lie on
their blankets, and talk with one another, or watch the playing. Yes, they did have one pastime—the proverbial soldier's pastime of smoking. A pipe was their omnipresent
companion, and seemed to make up to them in sociability for whatsoever they lacked of entertainment in other directions.
One branch of business which was carried on quite extensively was the making of pipes and rings as mementos of a camp or battle-field. The pipes were made from the
root of the mountain laurel when it could be had, and often ornamented with the badges of the various corps, either in relief or inlaid. The rings were made sometimes of
dried horn or hoof, very often of bone, and some were fashioned out of large gutta-percha buttons which were sent from home.
The evenings in camp were less occupied in gameplaying, I should say, than the hours off duty in the daytime; partly, perhaps, because the tents were rather dimly lighted,
and partly because of a surfeit of such recreations by daylight. But, whatever the cause, I think old soldiers will generally agree in the statement that the evenings were the
time of sociability and reminiscence. It was then quite a visiting time among soldiers of the same organization. It was then that men from the same town or neighborhood
got together and exchanged home gossip. Each one would produce recent letters giving interesting information about mutual friends or acquaintances, telling that such a
girl or old schoolmate was married; that such a man had enlisted in such a regiment; that another was wounded and at home on furlough; that such another had been
exempted from the forthcoming draft, because he had lost teeth,
that yet another had suddenly gone to Canada on important business-which was a favorite refuge for all those who were afraid of being forced into the service.
Then, there were many men not so fortunate as to have enlisted with acquaintances, or to be near them in the army. These were wont to lie on their blankets, and join in
the general conversation, or exchange ante-war experiences, and find much of interest in common; but, whatever the number or variety of the evening diversions, there is
not the slightest doubt that home, its inmates, and surroundings were more thought of and talked of then than in all the rest of the twentyfour hours.
In some tents vocal or instrumental music was a feature of the evening. There was probably not a regiment in the service that did not boast at least one violinist, one
banjoist, and a bone player in its ranks—not to mention other instruments generally found associated with these—and one or all of them could be beard in operation, either
inside or in a company street, most any pleasant evening. However unskilful the artists, they were sure to be the centre of an interested audience. The usual medley of
comic songs and negro melodies comprised the greater part of the entertainment, and, if the space admitted, a jig or clog dance was stepped out on a hardtack box or other
crude platform. Sometimes a real negro was brought in to enliven the occasion by patting and dancing "Juba,"or singing his quaint music. There were always plenty of
them in or near camp ready to fill any gap, for they asked nothing better than to be with "Massa Linkum's Sojers."But the men played tricks of all descriptions on them,
descending at times
to most shameful abuse until some one interfered. There were a few of the soldiers who were not satisfied to play a reasonable practical joke, but must bear down with all
that the good-natured Ethiopians could stand, and, having the fullest confidence in the friendship of the soldiers, these poor fellows stood much more than human nature
should be called to endure without a murmur. Of course they were on the lookout a second time.
