Charles Francis Adams To His Mother
Fort Independence, May 12, 1861
The truth is that in garrison life, with guard duty three times in two weeks, five hours drill a day and the necessity of waiting on oneself, it is difficult either to write or read much in a room about the size of our bed-room in Boston in which eleven other men are quartered — that is live, eat and sleep — besides myself. Yet I like the life very much and am getting as rugged and hearty as an ox, passing all my time in eating, drilling, sleeping and chaffing. Our mess is made up of very good fellows indeed, all friends of mine, such men as Clark and Pratt, the two celebrated rowers, Tom Motley, Jr., Caspar Crowninshield, Fred d’Hauteville, etc. Our life is one of rigid garrison duty: reveille at half past five with breakfast at six; dress parade at seven; a squad drill at eight and a company drill at ten; at twelve dinner and at three a battalion drill which lasts until half past five, when we have an evening dress parade, which finishes work for those off guard for the day. At six we have tea and amuse ourselves till half past nine, when tattoo beats and we go to bed and after a little sky-larking quickly to sleep. When on guard, which every man is about twice a week, it is rather restless, as for twenty-four hours we are on guard two hours and off four, day and night, and properly can’t leave the guard room; but as our mess are especial friends of the sergeants rules are rather relaxed in our favor. Food is tolerable, coarse but enough, though devilish unclean at times. In our mess each man takes his turn in washing up the dishes and keeping the quarters of the mess clean. So once in ten days or so visitors see the best blood in America, in the person of your son, washing dishes, sweeping floors, wheeling coal, etc., like a family servant. Meanwhile health is superb and I never looked so browned and hearty in my life. . . .
Outside we hear a good deal of a raging military ardor. A good many young men we know are getting commissions, especially in Gordon’s regiment, and from our mess three men went up in one day, among them George R. Russell’s son Henry; but two of them came back, Hal only staying. Sam Quincy they say is a Captain. Elliot Parkman has a commission of some sort in the navy and Dick Goodwin, George Bangs, Rufus Choate, Greely and Pelham Curtis and others with Gordon. . . .
