built a fireplace and chimney. Now a wooden fireplace and chimney may seem ludicrously impractical, but that is what we and thousands of others actually built from green-pine sticks. But we fireproofed it with a coating of clay on the inside, and it answered its purpose perfectly. It "drew" finely, and gave us no end of solid comfort. Some of the chimneys did not work so well, and then the draught was increased by the precarious expedient of an empty, headless barrel placed on top. This generally served for a short time; but the barrel was pretty sure to take fire, and then there would be a grand excitement and much merriment over the frantic effort to extinguish the blaze.
Not the chimneys alone played tricks on the householders. Mischievous comrades have been known to drop a handful of cartridges down a chimney from the outside, with the result of a smothered explosion and a great scattering of ashes and embers over everything and everybody within.
The spirit of fun also found outlet in the adornment of the gables of our dwellings with various legends suggestive of the personal peculiarities of the inmates. For instance, of two queerly assorted tent mates, one had been a church sexton and a conspicuous functionary at village funerals; the other had worked in a silverware factory. Over their door some wag tacked a sign with the inscription:
Dowd and Griffith,
Jewelers and Undertakers.
As few of us were content with the wholesale work of the company cooks, we did most of our cooking ourselves, by our kitchen fires, and those of us who survived the war learned enough to make us useful to the women who were wise enough to choose us as husbands, though I fear the details of our housekeeping would have shocked them.
Many a pleasant evening we spent about our little fireplace. We talked about home, the girls we loved, religion, politics, literature, camp gossip, everything. Or we read, when we had books or papers from home, or wrote letters or our journals.
There was, however, little real privacy in those huts so close together, with their canvas roofs. Any loud talk could be heard from one to the other, and in the evening after "retreat" the camp became a very babel of men singing, talking, laughing, swearing, telling stories; a chorus in one tent, a game of cards in another; in three or four at once loud discussions of the doings in the regiment or of the state of the country.
At nine o' clock "taps" sounded, and the officer of the day went the rounds to see that all lights were out. This was early bed-time in the long winter nights, and by various ruses we managed to conceal the glimmer of candles relighted after the officer had returned to the guard-house. The Bible and Shakespeare were responsible for some of these evasions of military regulations; quiet little games of cards for more of them.
Speaking of cards and Bibles brings up the image of the chaplain.
A friend in a regiment distinguished for its high discipline and its severe losses in many battles said to me one day: "A good chaplain makes a good regiment." Then, in illustration, he told me the story of their own chaplain, a man of fine culture, high social position, and great devotion to his calling. In his pastoral visits through the camp, if he surprised a group engaged in a little game of "bluff," he would quietly scoop up the stakes, put the money in his own pocket, and say: "Boys, this is for the hospital fund." Strange to say, the boys never murmured. The cheerful but shamefaced reply was always, "All right, chaplain."
I think no one will wonder who hears the rest of the story.
On the eve of battle, this chaplain took personal command of the stretcher-bearers, and when the combat was raging he would lead his little band of helpers into the thickest fire to succor the wounded. My friend told me: "I have known him to creep out between the opposing lines to bring off wounded men. The boys all knew that if they got into trouble, Chaplain H. would be there to help if this was in the power of mortal man." There were other chaplains of like spirit. Our own was not only untiring in his care for the sick and wounded in the hospitals, but always ready for any kindly service he could render to the members of the regiment or to their families at home. But it must be confessed that they were not all of this stamp. It was quite possible for the chaplain to be the most useless officer in a regiment.
It could not be said of our regiment that we were like the men of Cromwell's "new model," yet we came from communities in which Puritanism was traditional, and in almost every company there were at least a few examples of strong Christian character.
