friends or relatives. As the newspapers were full of the exploits of the regiments at the front, it often happened that some exploit would determine the recruit to go to that regiment if he had a friend or relative in it, in preference to some other regiment where he had a friend or relative. It so happened that the boys of our regiment had a great many friends and relatives in eastern Iowa, and these recruits would be brought together at some point and drilled preliminarily, and taught soldiering say for two or three or four months, and then they would be forwarded in squads to the regiment. If a regiment was not receiving the recruits that it wanted or thought it ought to have, it was common for the Colonel to pick out some good recruiting lieutenant and get him a recruiting furlough and then send him back where the bulk of the regiment had been recruited, and let him go to work. Many regiments were kept up to the maximum in that manner. Our company received subsequent batches of recruits, of which I will speak hereafter. Our company had first and last one hundred and fifty-one members. The casualties of the service were always heavy. For instance, we lost by death twenty-seven men, by desertion nine, and by transfer to other regiments and by other causes, nine. Then again while the majority of the company had enlisted for three years or during the war, there were a few who had enlisted for only one year. Nevertheless, many of these stayed in, and were either killed in battle or died of disease.
Chapter X.
Rations of Whisky – Era of Bitters – Artemus Ward – Major Heath – Lieutenant Heath – His Death – MacDonald's Dance – Indian Invited In – John Dillon – Tom Potter – Captain Logan – The First Colorado Cavalry – Harry Dall – The Travel on the Plains – The Wagons – The Bullwhackers – The Wagon-boss – The Denver Trade – The Missourian
I HAVE referred to the store which Boyer kept where liquors were sold. We managed to get pretty good police regulations in our company in regard to liquors. My barrel of 1849 whisky didn't last very long, so that soon afterwards on one of my trips to Fort Kearney I went to the post commander and told him what my men were doing, and that they must have a ration of whisky if they did this hard pioneer work, that is, if they wanted the ration. I sat down with him and computed what it would take to build the fort for two companies and to make the work speed along rapidly. And I pointed out to him that it was the cheapest thing for the Government to give that inducement. After a considerable consultation he agreed with me that I might take out a supply that would last until the completion of the post, as they had much on hand and there did not seem to be a great demand. In short, I drew seven more barrels of good corn whisky as rations. And the arrangement which we made, and which was satisfactory to the men, and which worked exceedingly well, was this: Every man who worked as an axman or builder, or in other words did hard work that was strictly outside of military service, got a drink in the morning if he wanted it, and one in the evening if he wanted it, when he was through with his work. And if he shirked during the day, he did not get his evening drink. The men all seemed to be inspired, and they all wanted to work, and those who did work, as a rule, did well. The number of shirkers was not many. In order that there should be no intemperance in the morning, when the time for a jigger had arrived there was poured out in a tin cup a gill, and he drank it right there. The captain didn't allow him to carry it off. Our great big Corporal Forbush, who was the Hercules of the company, and who had passed a great deal of his life swinging an ax in the Northern pineries, was the man who gave the boys their drinks. He was liable to drink a little too much himself, but he was a good disciplinarian, and the boys could not get any whisky and carry it off. They drank it on the spot, and in his presence, morning and night. A gill is a pretty good-sized drink, and was all a man should have at one time. The seven barrels would not have lasted long if it had not been economically administered, and only to those who did the hard work. There was very little constitutional intemperance in our company. It was sporadic. None of the ranchmen would sell liquor to our men, nor would the sutler. And if a man was caught with liquor he was put at work on fatigue duty without liquor, so that we had but very little trouble during the winter. That good old ancient time was an era of drinking. There was no such thing known then in the West as 'prohibition,' and nearly everybody drank a little. It was also the age of bitters. Sometime back in the early '50s the manufacture of artificial bitters had been introduced. Before that time an old invention called 'Stoughton' had been for a long while in vogue. In every saloon was a bottle of 'Stoughton bitters,' and if anybody wanted any bitters he called for some Stoughton and put it in. It was only occasionally the Stoughton was used, but the Stoughton bottle was always at the bar, and the synonym for an idle fellow, always in evidence and doing nothing, was to call him a 'Stoughton bottle.' And frequently men were spoken of in politics or religion or in a story as a mere 'Stoughton bottle.' That is, they were in evidence, but nobody paid much attention to them. The simile survived for a lifetime after the Stoughton bottle had gone. But someone afterwards invented 'bitters' as a beverage; three celebrated kinds were thrown onto market, and made great fortunes for their inventors, as were early occupants of the field. The first in order was 'Plantation Bitters'; next, 'Hostetter's Bitters'; third, 'Log Cabin Bitters.' By the time the war broke out these bitters had been advertised with an expenditure of money which at that time was thought remarkable. Plantation Bitters appeared in 1860, and every wall and fence and vacant place in the United States was placarded with the legend, 'S. T. 1880 X.' For several months everybody was guessing what the sign meant. It was in the newspapers. It was distributed in handbills on the street. It was seen at every turn, 'S. T. 1860 X.' After the world had long grown tired of guessing, there appeared the complete legend, 'Plantation Bitters, S. T. 1860 X.' Plantation Bitters became the bottled liquor of the age. It was made out of alcohol, water and flavoring, and was really very attractive as to taste and results.
The Hostetter and the Log Cabin followed closely behind in popularity. The Log Cabin got into sutler tents all over the district which the army occupied. Its principal advertisement was the strange glass bottle made in the shape of a log cabin. At about the time I speak of, all three of these liquors were on sale at Boyer's. The legend of the Plantation Bitters was that it meant 'Sure thing in ten years from 1860.' That is, when the inventor had made the decoction, and submitted it to a friend as an invention and marketable article, the friend, so the story goes, told him that it was a sure thing for a fortune in ten years. So, acting on this thought, he had billed the United States, 'S. T. 1860 X.,' and spent half a million advertising 'S. T. 1860 X.,' before anybody knew what it was all about.
In March, 1864, while we were at the post, Artemus Ward, the great humorist, came through on a coach; and hearing that he was coming, Captain O'Brien and I went to the coach to greet him. It was late in the afternoon. The first thing he did was to ask us to go and take a drink with him, and Boyer's was the saloon. Artemus Ward went in, with us following him, and said, 'What have you got to drink here?' Boyer said, 'Nothing but bitters.' Ward said, 'What kind of bitters?' Boyer said, 'I have got nothing but Hostetter; some trains went by here and they cleaned me out of everything but Hostetter.' So Ward said, 'Give us some Hostetter,' and the bottle was shoved out on the cedar counter. We took a drink with Ward, who told us about some Salt Lake experience he had recently had. In a little while the driver shouted for him to get aboard. Ward turned to Boyer, and he says, 'How much Hostetter have you got?' Boyer looked under his counter and said, 'I had a case of two dozen bottles which I opened this afternoon and that is all I have got and I have used up five of them.' Said Artemus Ward, 'I have got to have eighteen of those bottles.' Boyer said, 'That only leaves me one bottle.' Ward said, 'It don't make any difference; your mathematics are all right, but I want eighteen of those bottles.' The bottles sold for $1.50. Ward said, 'I will give you $2 a bottle.' In a short time the money hadeen paid. Ward went to the coach with the box of eighteen bottles under his arm, and we bade him an affectionate adieu. The crowded coach greeted him with cheers, and I have no doubt that they finished the whole business before morning, on the coach.
Our company kept constantly improving. Captain O'Brien had been a sergeant in the Fifth Wisconsin Battery, and I had been a sergeant in the Fourth Iowa Cavalry, and we had both served from the beginning of the war. Our First Lieutenant, of whom I have spoken, was a gray-haired and gray-whiskered man, who said he was only forty- five. He was a very gentlemanly, placid old man, without the slightest particle of military instinct or habit. The other company at our post was officered by three as inefficient men as could be found in the regiment. They were of no account whatever. The Captain and First Lieutenant were well along in years, and had got their places because they had been the relatives of somebody, and had managed to get the appointment. The Second Lieutenant was the son of the senior Major of our regiment, Major H. H. Heath. This man Heath had served in the First Iowa Cavalry, and had been made a Major of our regiment through the influence of a very giddy wife, who was the daughter of a Syracuse barber in New York. Major Heath himself was a fine-looking, dressy, showy fellow, but a great scoundrel.
