While at Nashville the pay master came, and gave us six months pay. This
was very welcome, for the regiment was about cleaned out of money. We
were, all of us, more or less in debt to one another, and some of the
debts were contracted for very singular purposes. Card playing was a
great pastime with many; poker being the game most in vogue. But poker
playing without money, was considered rather dry fun. So some ingenious
chap hit upon the plan of each fellow giving his note for his losses,
payable at pay day. There was a good many of these notes in camp, and
now that pay day had come, the holders of them were clamorous for their
money. We do not know how they ever settled it, as we were not given to
card playing ourself, and consequently had no interest in the matter,
but we heard considerable fuss made, and several fights occurred over
the trouble, which generally was wound up by the participators being
ordered to stand on a barrel, or carry a rail for a certain length of
time. But now that we had money once more, things began to look a little
different in the dress of the men. Paper collars made their appearance,
fine boots, hats purchased in the stores of Nashville, and clothing of
the regulation style and color, but of finer material, were sported
every day on the persons of the warriors. Many sent their money home by
express, others opened up "chuck-a-luck" banks, and in some cases won a
good deal of money, while some lost all they had. At Nashville, too, we
received, officially, the President's Emancipation Proclamation. It
caused a great stir. There were many who were opposed to it (we have
reference to the army of course), and several officers resigned their
positions and went home. The army was better off without them. The
proclamation was a matter of earnest and grave debate with us all, and
strong and stubborn arguments were urged on both sides. It will be as
well to remark here that when the regiment was organized its political
complection was of a decided democratic tinge. We had faith in Douglas'
doctrine, and many of us thought it a cruel and outrageous piece of
business to deprive the South of its slavery in this way. But how
different the subject looks to us now. Douglas sleeps in his quiet tomb
on the shores of Lake Michigan, while the remains of the mighty Lincoln,
the promulgator of the immortal proclamation, the wise and good ruler,
"with malice toward none, and with charity for all," quietly rests in
the mausoleum at Springfield, the capitol of the state he loved so well.
President Lincoln followed the logical course of events in issuing this
proclamation. He was neither too soon nor too late with it. He had a
host of interests to consult, all of which involved the social,
commercial and political happiness of the country. He found the
institution of slavery sustaining a great agricultural interest in many
states of the Union. Cotton, sugar, rice and tobacco, and other staples,
seemed to live upon its labor, and vast European and American
enterprises depended on its preservation. The villages of Lancashire,
the counting rooms of New York, the mills of Massachusetts, the looms of
France; to the uttermost ends of the earth, in India and Australia, the
safety of the cotton crop, and the protection of cotton labor, were
matters of comfort, necessity and bread. It was not an easy matter to
proclaim a decree, so universal in its application, and so radical in
its operation, and to the wisdom and sagacity of our martyred President
let us record it, that he did not issue the proclamation until justified
by the treason and violence of the promoters of the cotton interest, and
masters of cotton labor.
But our stay at Nashville was drawing to a close. We had been here so
long that it seemed to many of us when marching orders at length came,
like leaving home. We had formed acquaintance with a good many of the
citizens, and had established very social terms with them, and, in fact,
were enjoying ourselves very pleasantly. But the life of a soldier is
always uncertain, and his abiding place transitory, here to day and gone
to morrow. We had been in Nashville at this time about six months, and
it was now June. Shortly after our arrival here, the "weeding out" of
the regiment, as it might be called, took place. Many officers, finding
themselves unfit, physically, for the arduous labors of the field,
resigned. The men whom sickness and disease had rendered unfit for
further service, were discharged and sent home, and the effective force
of the regiment was thoroughly cleared of all incumbrances, and brought
up to the highest military standard. The time had not been wasted, but
every day drilling, and manœuvering had been practiced. The regiment had
been relieved of its worthless Austrian rifles, and given the Enfield, a
splendid weapon. We all had good clothing, and good health. The first
rough edge of our soldier life, had been taken off, and we were now
inured to anything reasonable in the shape of hardship and exposure.
So at last one bright June morning in 1863, the orders came for us to
"strike tents." We had also received, while here at Nashville, our
shelter, or as the boys called them, our "dog tents," and as it may be
interesting to some who read these pages, we will describe what the "dog
tent" was like. It consisted of two pieces of canvas about four feet in
length and three in width. One end of these pieces had button holes
worked in it, and the other buttons. Two men occupied each tent, and of
course each fellow selected his own tent mate, or "partner," as we used
to call him. Each man carried, when on the march, one-half of the tent,
in other words each man carried the half of his house roof, and it was a
very particular matter that no disturbance should arise between these
"dog tent" dwellers, for if there did one fellow would walk off with his
half of the house, leaving the other one to make the best of the
situation. But happily for us good feeling prevailed throughout the
entire regiment amongst the men. Of course there were a few who were
naturally inclined to be peevish and irritable, but they soon got over
it when they found the majority were opposed to such exhibitions of ill
nature. These "dog tents" were about three feet high, and in consequence
whenever we wanted to get into them, we had to come down on our knees
and crawl in, hence their name. They answered very well for us short
fellows, but the long legged chaps found it difficult to keep their feet
inside of the house. When we arrived in camp at night it was a simple
matter to pitch them; every other man, nearly, was supplied with a neat
little hand-ax, and all the labor required in erecting our tents was to
cut two forked sticks, sharpen the ends and drive them into the ground,
a long straight stick for the ridge pole, the ends of the tent buttoned
together and thrown over it and staked down to the ground, and the house
was ready for occupation. They answered the purpose very well for life
in the field, and were tolerably comfortable.