The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 85, November, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics — John Shaqi
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 85, November, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 85, November, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
It needs but a few days to show up the absurdity of distrusting the
military availability of these people. They have quite as much average
comprehension as whites of the need of the thing, as much courage, (I
doubt not,) as much previous knowledge of the gun, and, above all, a
readiness of ear and of imitation, which, for purposes of drill,
counterbalances any defect of mental training. To learn the drill, one
does not want a set of college professors; one wants a squad of eager,
active, pliant school-boys; and the more childlike these pupils are, the
better. There is no trouble about the drill; they will surpass whites
in that. As to camp-life, they have little to sacrifice, they are better
fed, housed, and clothed than ever in their lives before, and they
appear to have fewer inconvenient vices. They are simple, docile, and
affectionate almost to the point of absurdity. The same men who stood
fire in open field with perfect coolness, on the late expedition, have
come to me blubbering in the most irresistibly ludicrous manner on being
transferred from one company in the regiment to another.
In noticing the squad-drills, I perceive that the men learn less
laboriously than whites that "double, double, toil and trouble," which
is the elementary vexation of the drill-master,--that they more rarely
mistake their left for their right,--and are more grave and sedate while
under instruction. The extremes of jollity and sobriety, being greater
with them, are less liable to be intermingled; these companies can be
driven with a looser rein than my former one, for they restrain
themselves; but the moment they are dismissed from drill, every tongue
is relaxed and every ivory tooth visible. This morning I wandered about
where the different companies were target-shooting, and their glee was
contagious. Such exulting shouts of, "Ki! ole man," when some steady old
turkey-shooter brought his gun down for an instant's aim, and then
unerringly hit the mark; and then, when some unwary youth fired his
piece into the ground at half-cock, such infinite guffawing and delight,
such rolling over and over on the grass, such dances of ecstasy, as made
the "Ethiopian minstrelsy" of the stage appear a feeble imitation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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