ARMY WAGON-TRAINS.
“That every man who swears once drove a mule
Is not believed by any but a fool;
But whosoe’er drove mules and did not swear
Can be relied on for an honest prayer.”
[Illustration]
Before giving a history of the wagon-trains which formed a part, and
a _necessary_ part, of every army, I will briefly refer to what was
known as “Grant’s Military Railroad,” which was really a railroad built
_for_ the army, and used solely by it. When the Army of the Potomac
appeared before Petersburg, City Point, on the James River, was made
army headquarters and the “base of supplies,” that is, the place to
which supplies were brought from the North, and from which they were
distributed to the various portions of the army. The Lynchburg or
Southside Railroad enters Petersburg from the west, and a short railroad,
known as the City Point Railroad, connects it with City Point, ten miles
eastward. The greater portion of this ten miles fell within the Union
lines after our army appeared before Petersburg, and, as these lines were
extended westward after the siege was determined upon, Grant conceived
the plan of running a railroad inside our fortifications to save both
time and mule-flesh in distributing supplies along the line. It was soon
done. About five miles of the City Point road were used, from which the
new road extended to the south-west, perhaps ten miles, striking the
Weldon Railroad, which had been wrested from the enemy. Down this the
trains ran three miles; then a new branch of about two miles more to the
west took them to the left of the Union lines.
Of course, there were stations along this road at which supplies were
left for those troops near by. These stations were named after different
generals of the army. _Meade_ and _Patrick_ stations are two names which
yet linger in my memory, near each of which my company was at some
time located. The trains on this road were visible to the enemy for a
time as they crossed an open plain in their trips, and brought upon
themselves quite a lively shelling, resulting in no damage, I believe,
but still making railroading so uncomfortable that a high embankment of
earth was thrown up, which completely covered the engine and cars as
they rolled along, and which still stands as a monument to the labors
of the pick-and-shovel brigade. This railroad was what is known as a
surface road, by which is meant that there were no cuts made, the track
being laid on the natural surface of the ground. When a marsh was met
with, instead of filling, the engineers built a trestling. The effect of
such railroading to the eye was quite picturesque, as a train wound its
serpentine course along the country, up hill and down dale, appearing
much as if it had jumped the track, and was going across lots to its
destination.
But _the_ trains of the army were _wagon_-trains, and so little has been
written about them in histories of the war that a limited sketch in this
volume will have interest for many readers.
The trains belong to what is known in French as the _matériel_ of the
army, in distinction from the _personnel_, the men employed. In Roman
history we frequently find the baggage-trains of the army alluded to as
the _impedimenta_. The _matériel_, then, or _impedimenta_, of our armies
has, very naturally, been ignored by the historian; for the _personnel_,
the actors, are of so much _more_ consequence, they have absorbed the
interest of both writers and readers. I say the persons are of much more
consequence, but I must not be understood as belittling the importance of
the trains. An army without its varied supplies, which the trains care
for and provide, would soon be neither useful nor ornamental. In fact, an
army is like a piece of machinery, each part of which is indispensable to
every other part.
[Illustration: A MULE DRIVER.]
I presume every one of mature years has an idea of what army wagons look
like. They were heavy, lumbering affairs at best, built for hard service,
all, apparently, after the same pattern, each one having its tool-box in
front, its feed trough behind, which, in camp, was placed lengthwise of
the pole; its spare pole suspended at the side; its wooden bucket for
water, and iron “slush-bucket” for grease, hanging from the hind axle;
and its canvas cover, which when closely drawn in front and rear, as it
always was on the march, made quite a satisfactory “close carriage.” As
a pleasure carriage, however, they were not considered a success. When
the Third Corps was wintering at Brandy Station in 1863-4 the concert
troupe, which my company boasted was engaged to give a week of evening
entertainments not far from Culpeper, in a large hexagonal stockade,
which would seat six or seven hundred persons, and which had been erected
for the purpose by one Lieutenant Lee, then on either General French’s
or General Birney’s staff—I cannot now say which. To convey us thither
over the intervening distance of four or five miles, as I now remember,
we hired a mule-driver with his army wagon. More than twenty-three years
have since elapsed, but those twelve or fourteen rides, after dark,
across the rough country and frozen ground around Brandy Station were
so thoroughly jolted into my memory that I shall never forget them. The
seven dollars apiece per night which we received for our services was but
a trifling compensation for the battering and mellowing we endured _en
route_, and no more than paid for wear and tear. No harder vehicle can be
found to take a ride in than an army wagon.
By some stroke of good luck, or, perhaps, good management, many of the
regiments from New England took their transportation along with them. It
consisted, in many cases, of twenty-five wagons, two for each company,
and five for regimental headquarters. These were drawn at first by four
horses, but afterwards by six mules. A light battery had three such
wagons. They were designed to carry the baggage of the troops, and when
a march was ordered they were filled with tents, stoves, kettles, pans,
chairs, desks, trunks, valises, knapsacks, boards,—in fact, whatever
conveniences had accumulated about the camps.
General Sherman, in his Memoirs (vol. i. p. 178), describes very
graphically the troops he saw about Washington in ’61, as follows:—
“Their uniforms were as various as the states and cities from which they
came; their arms were also of every pattern and calibre; and they were so
loaded down with overcoats, haversacks, knapsacks, tents, and baggage,
that it took from twenty-five to fifty wagons to move the camp of a
regiment from one place to another, and some of the camps had bakeries
and cooking establishments that would have done credit to Delmonico.”
General Sherman might have seen much the same situation near Washington
even in ’62 and ’63. Every company in a regiment located in the defences
of the capital city had one or more large cook-stoves with other
appointments to match, and when they moved only a few miles they took all
their _lares_ and _penates_ with them. This could then be done without
detriment to the service. It was only when they attempted to carry
everything along in active campaigning that trouble ensued.
In October, 1861, McClellan issued an order which contained the following
provisions:—
“1. No soldiers shall ride in loaded baggage-wagons under any
circumstances, nor in empty wagons unless by special instructions to that
effect.
2. Knapsacks shall not be carried in the wagons except on the written
recommendation of the surgeon, which shall be given in case of sickness.
3. Tent-floors shall not be transported in public wagons, and hereafter
no lumber shall be issued for tent-floors except upon the recommendation
of the medical director for hospital purposes.”
This order was issued before the corps were organized, while the wagons
were yet with their regiments, and while the men yet had their big
knapsacks, which they were always ready to ride with or toss into a wagon
when the regiment moved. This was the time of transporting tent-floors,
the luxurious fault-finding period before carpets, feather-beds, and
roast beef had entirely lost their charm; when each man was, in his own
way and belief, fully the size of a major-general; when the medical
director of the army had time, unaided as yet by subordinates, to decide
the question of tent-floors _versus_ no tent-floors for individuals. Ah,
the freshness and flavor of those early war days come back to me as I
write—each day big with importance, as our letters, yet preserved to us,
so faithfully record.
Not many months elapsed before it became apparent that the necessities
of stern warfare would not permit and should not have so many of the
equipments of civil life, when the shelter tent, already described, took
the place of the larger varieties; when camp-fires superseded the stoves,
and many other comfortable but unnecessary furnishings disappeared from
the baggage. Not how _little_ but how _much_ could be dispensed with then
became the question of the hour. The trains must be reduced in size, and
they must be moved in a manner not to hamper the troops, if possible;
but the war was more than half finished before they were brought into a
satisfactory system of operation.
The greater number of the three-years regiments that arrived in
Washington in 1861 brought no transportation of any kind. After McClellan
assumed command, a _depot of transportation_ was established at
Perryville on the Susquehanna; by this is meant a station where wagons
and ambulances were kept, and from which they were supplied.
From there Captain Sawtell, now colonel and brevet brigadier general U.
S. A., fitted out regiments as rapidly as he could, giving each _six_
wagons instead of twenty-five, one of which was for medical supplies.
Some regiments, however, by influence or favor at court, got more than
that. A few wagons were supplied from the quartermaster’s depot at
Washington. A quartermaster is an officer whose duty it is to provide
quarters, provisions, clothing, fuel, storage, and transportation for an
army. The chief officer in the quartermaster’s department is known as the
quartermaster-general. There was a chief quartermaster of the army, and a
chief quartermaster to each corps and division; then, there were brigade
and regimental quartermasters, and finally the quartermaster-sergeants,
all attending in their appropriate spheres to the special duties of this
department.
During the march of the army up the Peninsula in 1862, the fighting force
advanced by brigades, each of which was followed by its long columns of
transportation. But this plan was very unsatisfactory, for thereby the
army was extended along forest paths over an immense extent of country,
and great delays and difficulties ensued in keeping the column closed
up; for such was the nature of the roads that after the first few wagons
had passed over them they were rendered impassable in places for those
behind. At least a quarter of each regiment was occupied in escorting its
wagons, piled up with ammunition, provisions, tents, etc.; and long after
the head of the column had settled in bivouac could be heard the loud
shouting of the teamsters to their jaded and mire-bedraggled brutes, the
clatter of wagon and artillery wheels, the lowing of the driven herds,
the rattling of sabres, canteens, and other equipments, as the men strode
along in the darkness, anxious to reach the spot selected for their
uncertain quantity of rest.
At times in this campaign it was necessary for the wagon-trains to be
massed and move together, but, for some reason, no order of march was
issued, so that the most dire confusion ensued. A struggle for the lead
would naturally set in, each division wanting it and fighting for it.
Profanity, threats, and the flourishing of revolvers were sure to be
prominent in the settling of the question, but the train which could run
over the highest stumps and pull through the deepest mud-holes was likely
to come out ahead.
The verdancy which remained after the first fall of the Union army at
Bull Run was to be utterly overshadowed by the baptism of woe which was
to follow in the Peninsular Campaign; and on arriving at Harrison’s
Landing, on the James, McClellan issued the following order, which paved
the way for better things:—
Allowance of Transportation, Tents, and Baggage.
Head-Quarters, Army of the Potomac.
_Camp near Harrison’s Landing, Va., August 10, 1862._
=General Orders, No. 153.=
I. The following allowance of wagons is authorized:
For the Head-Quarters of an Army Corps _Four_
” ” a Division or Brigade _Three_
For a Battery of Light Artillery, or Squadron of Cavalry _Three_
For a full regiment of Infantry _Six_
This allowance will in no case be exceeded, but will be reduced
to correspond as nearly as practicable with the number of
officers and men actually present. All means of transportation
in excess of the prescribed standard will be immediately
turned in to the depot, with the exception of the authorized
supply trains, which will be under the direction of the Chief
Quartermasters of Corps. The Chief Quartermaster of this Army
will direct the organization of the supply trains.
II. The Army must be prepared to bivouac when on marches away
from the depots. The allowance of tents will therefore be
immediately reduced to the following standard, and no other
accommodations must be expected until a permanent depot is
established:
For the Head-Quarters of an Army Corps, Division, or Brigade,
one wall tent for the General Commanding, and one to every
_two_ officers of his staff.
To each full regiment, for the Colonel, Field and Staff
officers, three wall tents.
For all other commissioned officers, _one_ shelter tent each.
For every two non-commissioned officers, soldiers, officers’
servants, and camp followers, as far as they can be supplied,
_one_ shelter tent.
_One_ hospital tent will be allowed for office purposes at
Corps Head-Quarters, and _one_ wall tent at Division and
Brigade Head-Quarters.
All tents in excess of this allowance will be immediately
turned in to the depots.
Tents of other patterns required to be exchanged for shelter
tents will be turned in as soon as the latter can be obtained
from the Quartermaster’s department. Under no circumstances
will they be allowed to be carried when the Army moves.
III. The allowance of officers’ baggage will be limited to
blankets, a _small_ valise or carpet bag, and a reasonable
mess-kit. All officers will at once reduce their baggage to
this standard. The men will carry no baggage except blankets
and shelter tents. The Chief Quartermaster will provide storage
on the transports for the knapsacks of the men and for the
officers’ surplus baggage.
IV. Hospital tents must not be diverted from their legitimate
use, except for offices, as authorized in paragraph II.
V. The wagons allowed to a regiment or battery must carry
nothing but forage for the teams, cooking utensils for the men,
hospital stores, small rations, and officers’ baggage. One of
the wagons allowed for a regiment will be used _exclusively_
for hospital stores, under the direction of the regimental
surgeon. The wagon for regimental Head-Quarters will carry
grain for the officers’ horses. At least _one and a half_ of
the wagons allowed to a battery or squadron will carry grain.
VI. Hospital stores, ammunition, Quartermaster’s Stores, and
subsistence stores in bulk will be transported in special
trains.
VII. Commanding officers will be held responsible that the
reduction above ordered, especially of officers’ baggage, is
carried into effect at once, and Corps commanders are specially
charged to see that this responsibility is enforced.
VIII. On all marches, Quartermasters will accompany and conduct
their trains, under the orders of their commanding officers, so
as never to obstruct the movement of troops.
IX. All Quartermasters and Commissaries of Subsistence will
attend in person to the receipt and issue of supplies for their
commands, and will keep themselves constantly informed of the
situation of the depots, roads, etc.
BY COMMAND OF MAJOR GENERAL MCCLELLAN:
S. WILLIAMS,
_Assistant Adjutant General_.
OFFICIAL:
_Aide-de-Camp._
This order quite distinctly shows some of the valuable lessons taught by
that eventful campaign before Richmond, more especially the necessity of
limiting the amount of camp equipage and the transportation to be used
for that purpose. But it further outlines the beginnings of the _Supply
Trains_, and to these I wish to direct special attention.
I have thus far only referred to the transportation provided for the
_camp equipage_; but _subsistence_ for man and beast must be taken
along; _clothing_, to replace the wear and tear of service, must be
provided; _ammunition_ in quantity and variety must be at ready command;
_intrenching tools_ were indispensable in an active campaign,—all of
which was most forcibly demonstrated on the Peninsula. Some effort, I
believe, was made to establish these trains before that campaign began,
but everything was confusion when compared with the system which was
now inaugurated by Colonel (now General) Rufus Ingalls, when he became
Chief Quartermaster of the Army of the Potomac. Through his persevering
zeal, trains for the above purposes were organized. All strife for the
lead on the march vanished, for every movement was governed by orders
from army headquarters under the direction of the chief quartermaster.
He prescribed the roads to be travelled over, which corps trains should
lead and which should bring up the rear, where more than one took the
same roads. All of the corps trains were massed before a march, and the
chief quartermaster of some corps was selected and put in charge of
this consolidated train. The other corps quartermasters had charge of
their respective trains, each in turn having his division and brigade
quartermasters, subject to his orders. “There never was a corps better
organized than was the quartermaster’s corps with the Army of the Potomac
in 1864,” says Grant in his Memoirs.
[Illustration: WAGON-TRAIN CROSSING THE RAPPAHANNOCK ON A PONTOON BRIDGE.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.]
Let us see a little more clearly what a corps train included. I can do no
better than to incorporate here the following order of General Meade:—
Head-Quarters, Army of the Potomac.
_August 21, 1863._
=General Orders, No. 83.=
In order that the amount of transportation in this Army shall
not in any instance exceed the maximum allowance prescribed
in General Order, No. 274, of August 7, 1863, from the War
Department, and to further modify and reduce baggage and supply
trains, heretofore authorized, the following allowances are
established and will be strictly conformed to, viz.:
1. The following is the maximum amount of transportation to be
allowed to this Army in the field:
To the Head-Quarters of an Army Corps, 2 wagons or 8 pack mules.
To the Head-Quarters of a Division or Brigade, 1 wagon or 5
pack mules.
To every three company officers, when detached or serving
without wagons, 1 pack mule.
To every 12 company officers, when detached, 1 wagon or 4 pack
mules.
To every 2 staff officers not attached to any Head-Quarters, 1
pack mule.
To every 10 staff officers serving similarly, 1 wagon or 4 pack
mules.
The above will include transportation for all personal baggage,
mess chests, cooking utensils, desks, papers, &c. The weight
of officers’ baggage in the field, specified in the Army
Regulations, will be reduced so as to bring it within the
foregoing schedule. All excess of transportation now with Army
Corps, Divisions, Brigades, and Regiments, or Batteries, over
the allowances herein prescribed, will be immediately turned in
to the Quartermaster’s Department, to be used in the trains.
Commanding officers of Corps, Divisions, &c., will immediately
cause inspections to be made, and will be held responsible for
the strict execution of this order.
Commissary stores and forage will be transported by the trains.
Where these are not convenient of access, and where troops act
in detachments, the Quartermaster’s Department will assign
wagons or pack animals for that purpose; but the baggage of
officers, or of troops, or camp equipage, will not be permitted
to be carried in the wagons or on the pack animals so assigned.
The assignment for transportation for ammunition, hospital
stores, subsistence, and forage will be made in proportion
to the amount ordered to be carried. The number of wagons is
hereinafter prescribed.
The allowance of spring wagons and saddle horses for contingent
wants, and of camp and garrison equipage, will remain as
established by circular, dated July 17, 1863.
2. For each full regiment of infantry and cavalry, of 1000 men,
for baggage, camp equipage, &c., 6 wagons.
For each regiment of infantry less than 700 men and more than
500 men, 5 wagons.
For each regiment of infantry less than 500 men and more than
300 men, 4 wagons.
For each regiment of infantry less than 300 men, 3 wagons.
3. For each battery of 4 and 6 guns—for personal baggage, mess
chests, cooking utensils, desks, papers, &c., 1 and 2 wagons
respectively.
For ammunition trains the number of wagons will be determined
and assigned upon the following rules:
1st. Multiply each 12 pdr. gun by 122 and divide by 112.
2d. Multiply each rifle gun by 50 and divide by 140.
3d. For each 20 pdr. gun, 1½ wagons.
4th. For each siege gun, 2½ wagons.
5th. For the general supply train of reserve ammunition of 20
rounds to each gun in the Army, to be kept habitually with
Artillery Reserve, 54 wagons.
For each battery, to carry its proportion of subsistence,
forage, &c., 2 wagons.
4. The supply train for forage, subsistence, quartermaster’s
stores, &c., to each 1000 men, cavalry and infantry, 7 wagons.
To every 1000 men, cavalry and infantry, for small arm
ammunition, 5 wagons.
To each 1500 men, cavalry and infantry, for hospital supplies,
3 wagons.
To each Army Corps, except the Cavalry, for entrenching tools,
&c., 6 wagons.
To each Corps Head-Quarters for the carrying of subsistence,
forage and other stores not provided for herein, 3 wagons.
To each Division Head-Quarters for similar purpose as above, 2
wagons.
To each Brigade Head-Quarters for similar purpose as above, 1
wagon.
To each Brigade, cavalry and infantry, for commissary stores
for sales to officers, 1 wagon.
To each Division, cavalry and infantry, for hauling forage for
ambulance animals, portable forges, &c., 1 wagon.
To each Division, cavalry and infantry, for carrying armorer’s
tools, parts of muskets, extra arms and accoutrements, 1 wagon.
It is expected that each ambulance, and each wagon, whether
in the baggage, supply or ammunition train, will carry the
necessary forage for its own team.
BY COMMAND OF MAJOR GENERAL MEADE:
S. WILLIAMS,
_Assistant Adjutant General_.
OFFICIAL:
_Ass’t Adj’t Gen’l._
As the transportation was reduced in quantity, the capacity of what
remained was put to a severer test. For example, when the Army of the
Potomac went into the Wilderness in 1864, each wagon was required to
carry five days forage for its animals (600 pounds), and if its other
freight was rations it might be six barrels of salt pork and four
barrels of coffee, or ten barrels of sugar. Forty boxes of hardtack was
a load, not so much because of its weight as because a wagon would hold
no more. It even excluded the forage to carry this number. In the final
campaign against Lee, Grant allowed for baggage and camp equipage three
wagons to a regiment of over seven hundred men, two wagons to a regiment
of less than seven hundred and more than three hundred, and one wagon to
less than three hundred. One wagon was allowed to a field battery. But,
notwithstanding the reductions ordered at different times, extra wagons
were often smuggled along. One captain, in charge of a train, tells of
keeping a wagon and six mules of his own more than orders allowed, and
whenever the inspecting officer was announced as coming, the wagon, in
charge of his man, Mike, was driven off under cover and not returned
till the inspection was completed. This enabled him to take along quite
a personal outfit for himself and friends. But his experience was not
unique. There were many other “contraband” mule-teams smuggled along in
the same way for the same object.
In leaving Chattanooga to advance into Georgia, General Sherman reduced
his transportation to one baggage-wagon and one ambulance for a regiment,
and a pack-horse or mule for the officers of each company. His supply
trains were limited in their loads to food, ammunition, and clothing;
and wall tents were forbidden to be taken along, barring one for each
headquarters, the gallant old veteran setting the example, by taking only
a tent-fly, which was pitched over saplings or fence rails. The general
has recorded in his “Memoirs” that his orders were not strictly obeyed
in this respect, Thomas being the most noted exception, who could not
give up his tent, and “had a big wagon, which could be converted into
an office, and this we used to call ‘Thomas’s circus.’” In starting on
his “march to the sea,” Sherman issued Special Field Orders No. 120;
paragraph 3 of this order reads as follows:—
“There will be no general train of supplies, but each corps
will have its ammunition train and provision train distributed
habitually as follows: Behind each regiment should follow one
wagon and one ambulance; behind each brigade should follow
a due proportion of ammunition-wagons, provision-wagons and
ambulances. In case of danger each corps commander should
change this order of march, by having his advance and rear
brigades unencumbered by wheels. The separate columns will
start habitually at 7 A.M., and make about fifteen miles per
day, unless otherwise fixed in orders.”
I presume the allowance remained about the same for the Wilderness
Campaign as that given in Orders No. 83. General Hancock says that he
started into the Wilderness with 27,000 men. Now, using this fact in
connection with the general order, a little rough reckoning will give
an approximate idea of the size of the train of this corps. Without
going into details, I may say that the total train of the Second Corps,
not including the ambulances, could not have been far from 800 wagons,
of which about 600 carried the various supplies, and the remainder the
baggage—the camp equipage of the corps.
When the army was in settled camp, the supply trains went into park
by themselves, but the baggage-wagons were retained with their corps,
division, brigade, or regimental headquarters. When a march was ordered,
however, these wagons waited only long enough to receive their freight
of camp equipage, when away they went in charge of their respective
quartermasters to join the corps supply train.
I have alluded to the strength of a single corps train. But the Second
Corps comprised only about one-fifth of the Union army in the Wilderness,
from which a little arithmetic will enable one to get a tolerably
definite idea of the _impedimenta_ of this one army, even after a great
reduction in the original amount had been made. There were probably over
4000 wagons following the Army of the Potomac into the Wilderness. An
idea of the ground such a train would cover may be obtained by knowing
that a six-mule team took up on the road, say, forty feet, but of
course they did not travel at close intervals. The nature of the country
determined, in some degree, their distance apart. In going up or down
hill a liberal allowance was made for balky or headstrong mules. Colonel
Wilson, the chief commissary of the army, in an interesting article to
the _United Service_ magazine (1880), has stated that could the train
which was requisite to accompany the army on the Wilderness Campaign
have been extended in a straight line it would have spanned the distance
between Washington and Richmond, being about one hundred and thirty
miles. I presume this estimate includes the ambulance-train also. On the
basis of three to a regiment, there must have been as many as one hundred
and fifty to a corps. These, on ordinary marches, followed immediately in
the rear of their respective divisions.
When General Sherman started for the sea, his army of sixty thousand
men was accompanied by about twenty-five hundred wagons and six hundred
ambulances. These were divided nearly equally between his four corps,
each corps commander managing his own train. In this campaign the
transportation had the roads, while the infantry plodded along by the
roadside.
The supply trains, it will now be understood, were the travelling depot
or reservoir from which the army replenished its needs. When these wagons
were emptied, they were at once sent back to the base of supplies, to be
reloaded with precisely the same kind of material as before; and empty
wagons had always to leave the road clear for loaded ones. Unless under a
pressure of circumstances, all issues except of ammunition were made at
night. By this plan the animals of the supply consumed their forage at
the base of supplies, and thus saved hauling it.
It was a welcome sight to the soldiers when rations drew low, or were
exhausted, to see these wagons drive up to the lines. They were not
_impedimenta_ to the army just then.
[Illustration: COMMISSARY DEPOT AT CEDAR LEVEL.—FROM A PHOTOGRAPH.]
It has sometimes been thought that the wagon-train was a glorious
refuge from the dangers and hard labors endured at the front, but such
was not the case. It was one of the most wearing departments of the
service. The officers in immediate charge were especially burdened with
responsibility, as the statement above illustrates. They were charged
to have their trains at a given point at or before a specified time. It
_must_ be there. There was no “if convenient” or “if possible” attached
to the order. The troops must have their rations, or, more important
still, the ammunition must be at hand in case of need. Sometimes they
would accomplish the task assigned without difficulty, but it was the
exception. Of course, they could not start until the army had got out of
the way. Then, the roads, already cut up somewhat by the artillery, were
soon rendered next to impassable by the moving trains. The quartermaster
in charge of a train would be called upon to extricate a wagon here that
was blocking the way, to supply the place of a worn-out horse or mule
there; to have a stalled wagon unloaded and its contents distributed
among other wagons; to keep the train well closed up; to keep the right
road even by night, when, of necessity, much of their travelling was
done. And if, with a series of such misfortunes befalling him, the
quartermaster reached his destination a few hours late, his chances were
very good for being roundly sworn at by his superior officers for his
delinquency.
During the progress of the train, it may be said, the quartermaster
would ease his nervous and troubled spirit by swearing at careless or
unfortunate mule-drivers, who, in turn, would make the air blue with
profanity addressed to their mules, individually or collectively, so
that the anxiety to get through was felt by all the moving forces in the
train. A large number of these drivers were civilians early in the war,
but owing to the lack of subordination which many of them showed, their
places were largely supplied later by enlisted men, upon whom Uncle Sam
had his grip, and who could not resign or “swear back” without penalty.
The place of the trains on an advance was in the rear of the army;
on the retreat, in front, as a rule. If they were passing through a
dangerous section of country, they were attended by a guard, sometimes
of infantry, sometimes cavalry. The strength of the guard varied with
the nature of the danger expected. Sometimes a regiment, sometimes a
brigade or division, was detailed from a corps for the duty. The nature
of Sherman’s march was such that trains and troops went side by side, as
already referred to. The colored division of the Ninth Corps served as
train-guard for the transportation of the Army of the Potomac from the
Rapidan to the James in 1864.
When ammunition was wanted by a battery or a regiment in the line of
battle, a wagon was sent forward from the train to supply it, the train
remaining at a safe distance in the rear. The nearness of the wagon’s
approach was governed somewhat by the nature of the ground. If there was
cover to screen it from the enemy, like a hill or a piece of woods, it
would come pretty near, but if exposed it would keep farther away. When
it was possible to do so, supplies both of subsistence and ammunition
were brought up by night when the army was in line of battle, for, as
I have said elsewhere, a mule-team or a mule-train under fire was a
diverting spectacle to every one but the mule-drivers.
[Illustration: A MULE-TEAM UNDER FIRE.]
One of the most striking reminiscences of the wagon-train which I
remember relates to a scene enacted in the fall of ’63, in that campaign
of manœuvres between Meade and Lee. My own corps (Third) reached
Centreville Heights before sunset—in fact, was, I think, the first corps
to arrive. At all events, we had anticipated the most of the trains.
At that hour General Warren was having a lively row with the enemy at
Bristoe Station, eight or nine miles away. As the twilight deepened, the
flash of his artillery and the smoke of the conflict were distinctly
visible in the horizon. The landscape between this stirring scene and
our standpoint presented one of the most animated spectacles that I
ever saw in the service. Its most attractive feature was the numerous
wagon-trains, whose long lines, stretching away for miles over the open
plain, were hastening forward to a place of refuge, all converging
towards a common centre—the high ground lying along the hither side of
Bull Run. The officers in charge of the trains, made somewhat nervous by
the sounds of conflict reaching them from the rear, impatiently urged on
the drivers, who, in turn, with lusty lungs uttered vigorous oaths at the
mules, punctuated by blows or cracks of the black snake that equalled in
volume the intonations of a rifle; and these jumped into their harnesses
and took the wagons along over stumps and through gullies with as great
alacrity as if the chief strain and responsibility of the campaign
centred in themselves. An additional feature of animation was presented
by the columns of infantry from the other corps, which alternated in the
landscape with the lines of wagons, winding along into camp tired and
footsore, but without apparent concern. I do not now remember any other
time in my experience when so large a portion of the _matériel_ and
_personnel_ of the army could have been covered by a single glance as I
saw in the gathering twilight of that October afternoon.
The system of designating the troops by corps badges was extended to the
transportation, and every wagon was marked on the side of the canvas
covering with the corps badge, perhaps eighteen inches in diameter,
and of the appropriate color to designate the division to which it
belonged. In addition to this, the number of its division, brigade,
and the nature of its contents, whether rations, forage, clothing, or
ammunition,—and, if the latter, the kind, whether artillery or musket,
and the calibre,—were plainly stencilled in large letters on the cover.
All this and much more went to indicate as perfect organization in the
trains as in the army itself, and to these men, who were usually farthest
from the fray, for whom few words of appreciation have been uttered
by distinguished writers on the war, I gladly put on record my humble
opinion that the country is as much indebted as for the work of the
soldiers in line. They acted well their part, and all honor to them for
it.
A regular army officer, who had a large experience in charge of trains,
has suggested that a bugler for each brigade or division train would have
been a valuable auxiliary for starting or halting the trains, or for
regulating the camp duties as in artillery and cavalry. It seems strange
that so commendable a proposition was not thought of at the time.
[Illustration: THE “BULL TRAIN.”]
In 1863, while the army was lying at Belle Plain after the memorable Mud
March, large numbers of colored refugees came into camp. Every day saw
some old cart or antiquated wagon, the relic of better days in the Old
Dominion, unloading its freight of contrabands, who had thus made their
entrance into the lines of Uncle Sam and Freedom. As a large number of
these vehicles had accumulated near his headquarters, General Wadsworth,
then commanding the first division of the First Corps, conceived the
novel idea of forming a supply train of them, using as draft steers, to
be selected from the corps cattle herd, and broken for that purpose.
His plan, more in detail, was to load the carts at the base of supplies
with what rations they would safely carry, despatch them to the troops
wherever they might be, issue the rations, slaughter the oxen for fresh
beef, and use the wagons for fuel to cook it. A very practical scheme, at
first view, surely. A detail of mechanics was made to put the wagons in
order, a requisition was drawn for yokes, and Captain Ford of a Wisconsin
regiment, who had had experience in such work, was detailed to break in
the steers to yoke and draft.
The captain spent all winter and the following spring in perfecting the
“Bull Train,” as it was called. The first serious set-back the plan
received resulted from feeding the steers with unsoaked hard bread,
causing several of them to swell up and die; but the general was not
yet ready to give up the idea, and so continued the organization.
Chancellorsville battle came when all the trains remained in camp. But
the day of trial was near. When the army started on the Gettysburg
campaign, Captain Ford put his train in rear of the corps wagon-train,
and started, with the inevitable result.
The mules and horses walked right away from the oxen, in spite of the
goading and lashing and yelling of their drivers. By nightfall they were
doomed to be two or three miles behind the main train—an easy prey for
Mosby’s guerilla band. At last the labor of keeping it up and the anxiety
for its safety were so intense that before the Potomac was reached the
animals were returned to the herd, the supplies were transferred or
issued, the wagons were burned, and the pet scheme of General Wadsworth
was abandoned as impracticable.
Quite nearly akin to this Bull Train was the train organized by Grant
after the battle of Port Gibson. His army was east of the Mississippi,
his ammunition train was west of it. Wagon transportation for ammunition
must be had. Provisions could be taken from the country. He says: “I
directed, therefore, immediately on landing, that all the vehicles and
draft animals, whether horses, mules, or oxen, in the vicinity should
be collected and loaded to their capacity with ammunition. Quite a
train was collected during the 30th, and a motley train it was. In it
could be found fine carriages, loaded nearly to the top with boxes of
cartridges that had been pitched in promiscuously, drawn by mules with
plough-harness, straw collars, rope lines, etc.; long-coupled wagons with
racks for carrying cotton-bales, drawn by oxen, and everything that could
be found in the way of transportation on a plantation, either for use or
pleasure.” [Vol. i., p. 488.]
Here is another incident which will well illustrate the trials of a
train quartermaster. At the opening of the campaign in 1864, Wilson’s
cavalry division joined the Army of the Potomac. Captain Ludington
(now lieutenant-colonel, U. S. A.) was chief quartermaster of its
supply train. It is a settled rule guiding the movement of trains that
the cavalry supplies shall take precedence in a move, as the cavalry
itself is wont to precede the rest of the army. Through some oversight
of the chief quartermaster of the army, General Ingalls, the captain
had received no order of march, and after waiting until the head of
the infantry supply trains appeared, well understanding that his place
was ahead of them on the march, he moved out of park into the road. At
once he encountered the chief quartermaster of the corps train, and a
hot and wordy contest ensued, in which vehement language found ready
expression. While this dispute for place was at white heat, General
Meade and his staff rode by, and saw the altercation in progress without
halting to inquire into its cause. After he had passed some distance up
the road, Meade sent back an aid, with his compliments, to ascertain
what train that was struggling for the road, who was in charge of it,
and with what it was loaded. Captain Ludington informed him that it was
Wilson’s cavalry supply train, loaded with forage and rations. These
facts the aid reported faithfully to Meade, who sent him back again to
inquire particularly if that really was Wilson’s cavalry train. Upon
receiving an affirmative answer, he again carried the same to General
Meade, who immediately turned back in his tracks, and came furiously
back to Ludington. Uttering a volley of oaths, he asked him what he
meant by throwing all the trains into confusion. “You ought to have
been out of here hours ago!” he continued. “I have a great mind to hang
you to the nearest tree. You are not fit to be a quartermaster.” In
this manner General Meade rated the innocent captain for a few moments,
and then rode away. When he had gone, General Ingalls dropped back from
the staff a moment, with a laugh at the interview, and, on learning the
captain’s case, told him to remain where he was until he received an
order from him. Thereupon Ludington withdrew to a house that stood not
far away from the road, and, taking a seat on the veranda, entered into
conversation with two young ladies who resided there. Soon after he had
thus comfortably disposed himself, who should appear upon the highway
but Sheridan, who was in command of all the cavalry with the army. On
discovering the train at a standstill, he rode up and asked:—
“What train is this?”
“The supply train of Wilson’s Cavalry Division,” was the reply of a
teamster.
“Who’s in charge of it?”
“Captain Ludington.”
“Where is he?”
“There he sits yonder, talking to those ladies.”
[Illustration: GENERAL MEADE AND THE QUARTERMASTER.]
“Give him my compliments and tell him I want to see him,” said Sheridan,
much wrought up at the situation, apparently thinking that the train
was being delayed that its quartermaster might spend further time “in
gentle dalliance” with the ladies. As soon as the captain approached,
the general charged forward impetuously, as if he would ride the captain
down, and, with one of those “terrible oaths” for which he was famous,
demanded to know what he was there for, why he was not out at daylight,
and on after his division. As Ludington attempted to explain, Sheridan
cut him off by opening his battery of abuse again, threatening to have
him shot for his incompetency and delay, and ordering him to take the
road at once with his train. Having exhausted all the strong language
in the vocabulary, he rode away, leaving the poor captain in a state of
distress that can be only partially imagined. When he had finally got
somewhat settled after this rough stirring-up, he took a review of the
situation, and, having weighed the threatened hanging by General Meade,
the request to await his orders from General Ingalls, the threatened
shooting of General Sheridan, and the original order of General Wilson,
which was to be on hand with the supplies at a certain specified time
and place, Ludington decided to await orders from General Ingalls,
and resumed the company of the ladies. At last the orders came, and
the captain moved his train, spending the night on the road in the
Wilderness, and when morning dawned had reached a creek over which it was
necessary for him to throw a bridge before it could be crossed. So he set
his teamsters at work to build a bridge. Hardly had they begun felling
trees before up rode the chief quartermaster of the Sixth Corps train,
anxious to cross. An agreement was entered into, however, that they
should build the bridge together; and the corps quartermaster set his
pioneers at work with Ludington’s men, and the bridge was soon finished.
Recognizing the necessity for the cavalry train to take the lead, the
corps quartermaster had assented that it should pass the bridge first
when it was completed, and on the arrival of that moment the train was
put in motion, but just then a prompt and determined chief quartermaster
of a Sixth Corps _division_ train, unaware of the understanding had
between his superior, the corps quartermaster, and Captain Ludington,
rode forward and insisted on crossing first. A struggle for precedence
immediately set in. The contest waxed warm, and language more forcible
than polite was waking the woodland echoes when who should appear on the
scene again but General Meade. On seeing Ludington engaged as he saw
him the day before, it aroused his wrath most unreasonably, and, riding
up to him, he shouted, with an oath: “What! are you here again!” Then
shaking his fist in his face, he continued: “I am sorry now that I did
not hang you yesterday, as I threatened.” The captain, exhausted and
out of patience with the trials which he had encountered, replied that
he sincerely wished he had, and was sorry that he was not already dead.
The arrival of the chief quartermaster of the Sixth Corps, at this time,
ended the dispute for precedence, and Ludington went his way without
further vexatious delays to overtake his cavalry division.
[Illustration: “OLD CRONIES”]