Chapter 8. The Baby of the Regiment

We were in our winter camp on Port Royal Island. It was a lovely

November morning, soft and spring-like; the mocking-birds were singing,

and the cotton-fields still white with fleecy pods. Morning drill was

over, the men were cleaning their guns and singing very happily; the

officers were in their tents, reading still more happily their letters

just arrived from home. Suddenly I heard a knock at my tent-door, and

the latch clicked. It was the only latch in camp, and I was very proud

of it, and the officers always clicked it as loudly as possible, in

order to gratify my feelings. The door opened, and the Quartermaster

thrust in the most beaming face I ever saw.

"Colonel," said he, "there are great news for the regiment. My wife and

baby are coming by the next steamer!"

"Baby!" said I, in amazement. "Q. M., you are beside yourself." (We

always called the Quartermaster Q. M. for shortness.) "There was a pass

sent to your wife, but nothing was ever said about a baby. Baby indeed!"

"But the baby was included in the pass," replied the triumphant

father-of-a-family. "You don't suppose my wife would come down here

without her baby! Besides, the pass itself permits her to bring

necessary baggage, and is not a baby six months old necessary baggage?"

"But, my dear fellow," said I, rather anxiously, "how can you make

the little thing comfortable in a tent, amidst these rigors of a South

Carolina winter, when it is uncomfortably hot for drill at noon, and ice

forms by your bedside at night?"

"Trust me for that," said the delighted papa, and went off whistling. I

could hear him telling the same news to three others, at least, before

he got to his own tent.

That day the preparations began, and soon his abode was a wonder of

comfort. There were posts and rafters, and a raised floor, and a great

chimney, and a door with hinges,--every luxury except a latch, and that

he could not have, for mine was the last that could be purchased. One of

the regimental carpenters was employed to make a cradle, and another to

make a bedstead high enough for the cradle to go under. Then there must

be a bit of red carpet beside the bedstead, and thus the progress of

splendor went on. The wife of one of the colored sergeants was engaged

to act as nursery-maid. She was a very respectable young woman; the

only objection to her being that she smoked a pipe. But we thought that

perhaps Baby might not dislike tobacco; and if she did, she would have

excellent opportunities to break the pipe in pieces.

In due time the steamer arrived, and Baby and her mother were among the

passengers. The little recruit was soon settled in her new cradle, and

slept in it as if she had never known any other. The sergeant's wife

soon had her on exhibition through the neighborhood, and from that time

forward she was quite a queen among us. She had sweet blue eyes and

pretty brown hair, with round, dimpled cheeks, and that perfect dignity

which is so beautiful in a baby. She hardly ever cried, and was not

at all timid. She would go to anybody, and yet did not encourage any

romping from any but the most intimate friends. She always wore a warm

long-sleeved scarlet cloak with a hood, and in this costume was

carried or "toted," as the soldiers said, all about the camp. At

"guard-mounting" in the morning, when the men who are to go on guard

duty for the day are drawn up to be inspected, Baby was always there, to

help inspect them. She did not say much, but she eyed them very

closely, and seemed fully to appreciate their bright buttons. Then the

Officer-of-the-Day, who appears at guard-mounting with his sword and

sash, and comes afterwards to the Colonel's tent for orders, would come

and speak to Baby on his way, and receive her orders first. When the

time came for drill she was usually present to watch the troops; and

when the drum beat for dinner she liked to see the long row of men in

each company march up to the cookhouse, in single file, each with tin

cup and plate.

During the day, in pleasant weather, she might be seen in her nurse's

arms, about the company streets, the centre of an admiring circle, her

scarlet costume looking very pretty amidst the shining black cheeks

and neat blue uniforms of the soldiers. At "dress-parade," just before

sunset, she was always an attendant. As I stood before the regiment, I

could see the little spot of red out of the corner of my eye, at one

end of the long line of men; and I looked with so much interest for her

small person, that, instead of saying at the proper time, "Attention,

Battalion! Shoulder arms!"--it is a wonder that I did not say, "Shoulder

babies!"

Our little lady was very impartial, and distributed her kind looks to

everybody. She had not the slightest prejudice against color, and did

not care in the least whether her particular friends were black or

white. Her especial favorites, I think, were the drummer-boys, who were

not my favorites by any means, for they were a roguish set of scamps,

and gave more trouble than all the grown men in the regiment. I think

Annie liked them because they were small, and made a noise, and had red

caps like her hood, and red facings on their jackets, and also because

they occasionally stood on their heads for her amusement. After

dress-parade the whole drum-corps would march to the great flag-staff,

and wait till just sunset-time, when they would beat "the retreat,"

and then the flag would be hauled down,--a great festival for Annie.

Sometimes the Sergeant-Major would wrap her in the great folds of the

flag, after it was taken down, and she would peep out very prettily from

amidst the stars and stripes, like a new-born Goddess of Liberty.

About once a month, some inspecting officer was sent to the camp by

the general in command, to see to the condition of everything in the

regiment, from bayonets to buttons. It was usually a long and tiresome

process, and, when everything else was done, I used to tell the officer

that I had one thing more for him to inspect, which was peculiar to our

regiment. Then I would send for Baby to be exhibited, and I never saw an

inspecting officer, old or young, who did not look pleased at the sudden

appearance of the little, fresh, smiling creature,--a flower in the

midst of war. And Annie in her turn would look at them, with the true

baby dignity La her face,--that deep, earnest look which babies often

have, and which people think so wonderful when Raphael paints it,

although they might often see just the same expression in the faces of

their own darlings at home.

Meanwhile Annie seemed to like the camp style of housekeeping very much.

Her father's tent was double, and he used the front apartment for his

office, and the inner room for parlor and bedroom; while the nurse had a

separate tent and wash-room behind all. I remember that, the first time

I went there in the evening, it was to borrow some writing-paper; and

while Baby's mother was hunting for it in the front tent, I heard a

great cooing and murmuring in the inner room. I asked if Annie was still

awake, and her mother told me to go in and see. Pushing aside the canvas

door, I entered. No sign of anybody was to be seen; but a variety of

soft little happy noises seemed to come from some unseen corner. Mrs.

C. came quietly in, pulled away the counterpane of her own bed, and drew

out the rough cradle where lay the little damsel, perfectly happy, and

wider awake than anything but a baby possibly can be. She looked as

if the seclusion of a dozen family bedsteads would not be enough to

discourage her spirits, and I saw that camp life was likely to suit her

very well.

A tent can be kept very warm, for it is merely a house with a thinner

wall than usual; and I do not think that Baby felt the cold much more

than if she had been at home that winter. The great trouble is, that a

tent-chimney, not being built very high, is apt to smoke when the wind

is in a certain direction; and when that happens it is hardly possible

to stay inside. So we used to build the chimneys of some tents on the

east side, and those of others on the west, and thus some of the tents

were always comfortable. I have seen Baby's mother running in a hard

rain, with little Red-Riding-Hood in her arms, to take refuge with the

Adjutant's wife, when every other abode was full of smoke; and I must

admit that there were one or two windy days that season when nobody

could really keep warm, and Annie had to remain ignominiously in her

cradle, with as many clothes on as possible, for almost the whole time.

The Quartermaster's tent was very attractive to us in the evening. I

remember that once, on passing near it after nightfall, I heard our

Major's fine voice singing Methodist hymns within, and Mrs. C.'s sweet

tones chiming in. So I peeped through the outer door. The fire was

burning very pleasantly in the inner tent, and the scrap of new red

carpet made the floor look quite magnificent. The Major sat on a box,

our surgeon on a stool; "Q. M." and his wife, and the Adjutant's wife,

and one of the captains, were all sitting on the bed, singing as well as

they knew how; and the baby was under the bed. Baby had retired for the

night, was overshadowed, suppressed, sat upon; the singing went on, and

she had wandered away into her own land of dreams, nearer to heaven,

perhaps, than any pitch their voices could attain. I went in, and joined

the party. Presently the music stopped, and another officer was sent

for, to sing some particular song. At this pause the invisible innocent

waked a little, and began to cluck and coo.

"It's the kitten," exclaimed somebody.

"It's my baby!" exclaimed Mrs. C. triumphantly, in that tone of

unfailing personal pride which belongs to young mothers.

The people all got up from the bed for a moment, while Annie was pulled

from beneath, wide awake and placid as usual; and she sat in one lap or

another during the rest of the concert, sometimes winking at the candle,

but usually listening to the songs, with a calm and critical expression,

as if she could make as much noise as any of them, whenever she saw

fit to try. Not a sound did she make, however, except one little soft

sneeze, which led to an immediate flood-tide of red shawl, covering

every part of her but the forehead. But I soon hinted that the concert

had better be ended, because I knew from observation that the small

damsel had Carefully watched a regimental inspection and a brigade drill

on that day, and that an interval of repose was certainly necessary.

Annie did not long remain the only baby in camp. One day, on going

out to the stables to look at a horse, I heard a sound of baby-talk,

addressed by some man to a child near by, and, looking round the corner

of a tent, I saw that one of the hostlers had something black and round,

lying on the sloping side of a tent, with which he was playing very

eagerly. It proved to be his baby, a plump, shiny thing, younger

than Annie; and I never saw a merrier picture than the happy father

frolicking with his child, while the mother stood quietly by. This was

Baby Number Two, and she stayed in camp several weeks, the two innocents

meeting each other every day, in the placid indifference that belonged

to their years; both were happy little healthy things, and it never

seemed to cross their minds that there was any difference in their

complexions. As I said before, Annie was not troubled by any prejudice

in regard to color, nor do I suppose that the other little maiden was.

Annie enjoyed the tent-life very much; but when we were Sent out on

picket soon after, she enjoyed it still more. Our head-quarters were at

a deserted plantation house, with one large parlor, a dining-room, and

a few bedrooms. Baby's father and mother had a room up stairs, with

a stove whose pipe went straight out at the window. This was quite

comfortable, though half the windows were broken, and there was no glass

and no glazier to mend them. The windows of the large parlor were in

much the same condition, though we had an immense fireplace, where we

had a bright fire whenever it was cold, and always in the evening. The

walls of this room were very dirty, and it took our ladies several

days to cover all the unsightly places with wreaths and hangings of

evergreen. In the performance Baby took an active part. Her duties

consisted in sitting in a great nest of evergreen, pulling and fingering

the fragrant leaves, and occasionally giving a little cry of glee when

she had accomplished some piece of decided mischief.

There was less entertainment to be found in the camp itself at this

time; but the household at head-quarters was larger than Baby had been

accustomed to. We had a great deal of company, moreover, and she had

quite a gay life of it. She usually made her appearance in the large

parlor soon after breakfast; and to dance her for a few moments in our

arms was one of the first daily duties of each one. Then the morning

reports began to arrive from the different outposts,--a mounted officer

or courier coming in from each place, dismounting at the door, and

clattering in with jingling arms and spurs, each a new excitement

for Annie. She usually got some attention from any officer who came,

receiving with her wonted dignity any daring caress. When the messengers

had ceased to be interesting, there were always the horses to look at,

held or tethered under the trees beside the sunny _piazza_. After the

various couriers had been received, other messengers would be despatched

to the town, seven miles away, and Baby had all the excitement of their

mounting and departure. Her father was often one of the riders, and

would sometimes seize Annie for a good-by kiss, place her on the saddle

before him, gallop her round the house once or twice, and then give her

back to her nurse's arms again. She was perfectly fearless, and such

boisterous attentions never frightened her, nor did they ever interfere

with her sweet, infantine self-possession.

After the riding-parties had gone, there was the _piazza_ still for

entertainment, with a sentinel pacing up and down before it; but Annie

did not enjoy the sentinel, though his breastplate and buttons shone

like gold, so much as the hammock which always hung swinging between

the pillars. It was a pretty hammock, with great open meshes; and she

delighted to lie in it, and have the netting closed above her, so that

she could only be seen through the apertures. I can see her now, the

fresh little rosy thing, in her blue and scarlet wrappings, with one

round and dimpled arm thrust forth through the netting, and the other

grasping an armful of blushing roses and fragrant magnolias. She looked

like those pretty French bas-reliefs of Cupids imprisoned in baskets,

and peeping through. That hammock was a very useful appendage; it was

a couch for us, a cradle for Baby, a nest for the kittens; and we had,

moreover, a little hen, which tried to roost there every night.

When the mornings were colder, and the stove up stairs smoked the wrong

way, Baby was brought down in a very incomplete state of toilet, and

finished her dressing by the great fire. We found her bare shoulders

very becoming, and she was very much interested in her own little pink

toes. After a very slow dressing, she had a still slower breakfast out

of a tin cup of warm milk, of which she generally spilt a good deal,

as she had much to do in watching everybody who came into the room, and

seeing that there was no mischief done. Then she would be placed on the

floor, on our only piece of carpet, and the kittens would be brought in

for her to play with.

We had, at different times, a variety of pets, of whom Annie did not

take much notice. Sometimes we had young partridges, caught by the

drummer-boys in trap-cages. The children called them "Bob and Chloe,"

because the first notes of the male and female sound like those names.

One day I brought home an opossum, with her blind bare little young

clinging to the droll pouch where their mothers keep them. Sometimes we

had pretty green lizards, their color darkening or deepening, like that

of chameleons, in light or shade. But the only pets that took Baby's

fancy were the kittens. They perfectly delighted her, from the first

moment she saw them; they were the only things younger than herself that

she had ever beheld, and the only things softer than themselves that her

small hands had grasped. It was astonishing to see how much the kittens

would endure from her. They could scarcely be touched by any one else

without mewing; but when Annie seized one by the head and the other by

the tail, and rubbed them violently together, they did not make a

sound. I suppose that a baby's grasp is really soft, even if it seems

ferocious, and so it gives less pain than one would think. At any rate,

the little animals had the best of it very soon; for they entirely

outstripped Annie in learning to walk, and they could soon scramble away

beyond her reach, while she sat in a sort of dumb despair, unable to

comprehend why anything so much smaller than herself should be so much

nimbler. Meanwhile, the kittens would sit up and look at her with the

most provoking indifference, just out of arm's length, until some of us

would take pity on the young lady, and toss her furry playthings back to

her again. "Little baby," she learned to call them; and these were the

very first words she spoke.

Baby had evidently a natural turn for war, further cultivated by an

intimate knowledge of drills and parades. The nearer she came to actual

conflict the better she seemed to like it, peaceful as her own little

ways might be. Twice, at least, while she was with us on picket, we

had alarms from the Rebel troops, who would bring down cannon to the

opposite side of the Ferry, about two miles beyond us, and throw shot

and shell over upon our side. Then the officer at the Ferry would think

that there was to be an attack made, and couriers would be sent, riding

to and fro, and the men would all be called to arms in a hurry, and the

ladies at headquarters would all put on their best bonnets and come down

stairs, and the ambulance would be made ready to carry them to a place

of safety before the expected fight. On such occasions Baby was in all

her glory. She shouted with delight at being suddenly uncribbed and

thrust into her little scarlet cloak, and brought down stairs, at an

utterly unusual and improper hour, to a _piazza_ with lights and people

and horses and general excitement. She crowed and gurgled and made

gestures with her little fists, and screamed out what seemed to be

her advice on the military situation, as freely as if she had been a

newspaper editor. Except that it was rather difficult to understand her

precise direction, I do not know but the whole Rebel force might have

been captured through her plans. And at any rate, I should much rather

obey her orders than those of some generals whom I have known; for she

at least meant no harm, and would lead one into no mischief.

However, at last the danger, such as it was, would be all over, and the

ladies would be induced to go peacefully to bed again; and Annie would

retreat with them to her ignoble cradle, very much disappointed, and

looking vainly back at the more martial scene below. The next morning

she would seem to have forgotten all about it, and would spill her bread

and milk by the fire as if nothing had happened.

I suppose we hardly knew, at the time, how large a part of the sunshine

of our daily lives was contributed by dear little Annie. Yet, when I now

look back on that pleasant Southern home, she seems as essential a

part of it as the mocking-birds or the magnolias, and I cannot convince

myself that in returning to it I should not find her there. But Annie

went back, with the spring, to her Northern birthplace, and then passed

away from this earth before her little feet had fairly learned to tread

its paths; and when I meet her next it must be in some world where there

is triumph without armies, and where innocence is trained in scenes of

peace. I know, however, that her little life, short as it seemed, was a

blessing to us all, giving a perpetual image of serenity and sweetness,

recalling the lovely atmosphere of far-off homes, and holding us by

unsuspected ties to whatsoever things were pure.

Army Life in a Black Regiment · 第 8 / 13 章