Home front readers of the current Tennessee Baptist are provided with a humorous account of Confederate camp life, a story poking fun at what is otherwise a dreaded event: cholera. The following account is penned by an unnamed soldier:
A correspondent writing from the regimental rendezvous, in Dallas county, Texas, gives the following spicy account of camp life and “a case of cholera.”
We are very pleasantly situated, all things considered; yet water is not as convenient as it might be, though we are surrounded with a great abundance of the thirst-quenching fluid. We are enjoying ourselves magnificently. We are a jolly set of philosophers—laughing and growing fat, in order that we may be the better enabled to meet the enemies of our country. I am one of the Mantua company, and a merrier lot of men can’t be scared up anywhere beneath the starry canopy. We like practical jokes, and although yesterday was Sunday, one poor fellow was used up most terribly. It was merely a test of spunk and patriotism too good to be lost, however. The incident was amusing, as you may judge for yourself. Upon the representation of one of the company yesterday morning, a young man came into camp, in order to get into our company. He searched throughout the encampment for the man that was represented to him as wanting to resign, and give to him that would take his place a complete outfit for the war. After long search the man was found, and the preliminaries being settled, the youngster agreed to take his place, and give him a chance of going home and taking care of his wife, who was taken suddenly ill. About this time one of the company pretended to be taken suddenly with the cholera, or some other equally fatal disease. The doctor was hunted up, and the joke being generally understood, the panic spread throughout the camp. A man suddenly attacked was carried into a tent, upon which the new recruit was observed in the act of permitting his courage to ooze out, while making an escapade through the rear of the tent. It was too much; his anxiety to fight suddenly changed to be at home again. His love of novelty, or some foolish whim, prompted him to seek the excitement of the camp; but upon the first false alarm, his courage deserts him, and his fears arise to the ascendant. A pretended friend advised him to go to the Captain and procure a release. One of the sergeants was pointed out, but his application was refused, and was told that nobody but Jeff Davis could release him. He was in a predicament, however, death was staring him in the face, and nothing was left but desertion. In desperation, desertion was resolved upon. Absconding in broad day-light could not be countenanced; accordingly the boys congregated around him, exclaiming they would have him arrested and put under guard. He managed, however, to get clear of those immediately around him, and a few that commiserated his condition advised him to mount his pony and flee. Accordingly, his horse was mounted in double-quick time, and amid the cheers, hooting, and laughter of the crowd, was soon making splendid time across the prairie, with half a dozen riders in hot haste behind him. The pursuers kept just close enough to keep his fears from subsiding too rapidly. The last we saw of him was on a distant ridge about two miles away. He was looking straight ahead and kicking his horse at a rate that would eject all the wind from his lungs ere he got a safe distance from that dreadful camp, where raged that terrible scourge, the cholera—in a horn.
The most horrible reports will doubtless pervade the country. I am certain of one thing—that youngster will be apt in future to give military camps a wide berth.
Most likely, some readers are not amused that the joke took place on the Christian Sabbath.
Source: “Camp Life in Texas – A Queer Case of Cholera, Tennessee Baptist, October 19, 1861
