The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-09-02
Dumpey-An Incident of Army Life.

Dumpey was a drummer in a foot
battery of the United States Artillery
stationed at one of the harbor posts in
the East. His descriptive list showed
him five feet one inch high, sallow COM
plexion, brown hair, and thirty-six
years of age. There were only two
things he could really do well-drum
and drink-so the junior lieutenant of
the battery, who was his ''good friend''
Ito use Dumpey's own words), dubbed
him d..
There were number of boys in the
garrison and we were all on intimate
terms with Dumpey. To US, in spite
of his thirty-siX years, and the fact that
he had served through the four years
of the Rebellion, he seemed but boy.
He was always good-natured; ready for
swim or fish; ready to play ball, and
sometimes, when in particularly ami
able mood, ready to give us lesson on
the drum, which he considered the
liking of instruments.
"Fiddles are all right" he said once
when the colonel's son ventured to diff
fer with him, "fiddles are all right,
but" with a superior smile, "not for
soldiers. Did you ever hear tell of a
fiddler of Chickamauga? Come, answer
me that"
OF course we sided with Dumpey;
what real boy wouldn't?
l can see him now, with his drum
slung from his neck, his little figure
drawn up to it's full height, proudly
showing us how to make the drum
"talk."
"This is what we played at Mission
RIDGE" and then he would begin.
One heard the tramp of marching
feet, the thunder of cannon, the rattle
of musketry, the shouts and hurrahs of
the men, and above all the rub-a-dub.
dub of the drum. 1t sent the cold shiv-
ers down our backs, the blood jumping
through our veins, and our boyish
hearts thumped and thumped until we
thought.they must surely burst; then
he would change, and in an instant all
was different.
The slow and solemn beat of the
muffled drum; the long, melancholy,
almost human roll, and we knew that
the battle was over, and that the dead
were being laid away to their last rest.
The tears were in our eyes, a choking
in our thrOats, and then
They dressed me up in sojer clothes,
They treated me so kindly,
ATf bs yet Ell q9 left S SeSja dfG ms
And we'd fall in and march behind our
friend until we reached the battery
quarters.
Sometimes when the grizzled first
sergeant of the battery was inclined to
be pleasant we would stay to dinner
with Dumpey-bean soup, pork, bread
and coffee, with real live cooks bully
(soldier) to wait on us, just as if we
were full-fedged battery men.
These were our happy times; there
were sad ones Casually at pay day.
when poor Dumpey would fall from
grace and disappear from among us for |
days at time. Sometimes he would |
be in the guard-house, sometimes in the
hospital. We never spoke of it, and
when the fit was over he would be safe |
for few more months.
1t was sad day for the battery, and |
particularly for Dumpey, when the
junior lieutenant left our post by trans
fer. The very next payday Dumpey
was in the guard.house with general
charges against him. Intercesson
proved of no avail; the captain was de-
to make an example of him,
but the court was lenient, so after a
confinement Dumpey came
back to US, but an altered man. Not
hat his manner had changed toward
Is; he was still our friend, but his boy
shness and lightness of heart seemed
gone.
He'll get me yet" was all he said