Many of the volunteers of Tennessee had a special taste for the local mountain beverage and this brew became a favorite of the General when he was thirsty. Many, or it might be said some, of mountain boys of Sevier County were raised, fed and clothed on the proceeds of the family farm’s corn crop. When God made the mountains of Eastern Tennessee, he sure didn’t create a terrain that was suited for the growing of row crops, the soil was fertile, plenty of cool clear water, but rocky and steep. The cool, clear and tasty water, combined with the meager corn supply, lent itself to another valuable commodity, that on occasion, became as sought after as a buried treasure.
When the volunteers of Tennessee enlisted, many, or some, carried in their bag of vittles, a clay jug, filled with the fortifying concoction. When mustered in, some at Knoxville, received their Federal uniforms and varied accoutrements, the boys transferred the contents of the jugs to their canteens. Military regulations strictly forbid any and all such possession, much less impairment in the ranks. The boys in training, normally saved their Tennessee Taste for evenings, around the fire, the canteens passed freely, with a deep slumber sure to follow.
After a couple of weeks of military indoctrination under their belts, the Tennessee mountain boys, trudged southwest, to adventure, glory, fame and no one knew what else. The march was a constant series of starts and stops, dust and boredom, fatigue and aching legs, feet and backs. The nights were normally cold and wet, the evening respite was enhanced by the Tennessee Taste and made the drudgery almost bearable.
One night, one of the younger of the Tennessee troopers, after being relieved from guard duty, was passing the General’s tent, when the commanding officer, demanded his immediate presence. The youthful soldier stood at attention before the General and drawled, Yes Sir! The burly, gruff and ancient Army veteran, nearing 40 years of age, ordered the Tennessee volunteer to share his canteen with him. The old man took a long slug, wiped his lips and closed his eyes. The mountain youth, just knew the jig was up, court-martial, disgrace, firing squad or worse, all sorts of possible nightmares boggled his nerves.
The General sighed, opened his eyes, handed the canteen back and calmly asked, what’s your rank boy? The volunteer answered smartly, I’m a Private, sir. Not any more, stated the General, you’re now a Sergeant, dismissed. The new Sergeant floated back to his tent and shared,with his pards, the confrontation with the old man. All were amazed, but just chalked it up to their new role as soldiers in the Union Army.
Several days passed and sure enough when the Tennessee mountain Sergeant passed the General’s tent, he was again summoned and asked for a taste of the canteen. His request was granted and the new Sergeant thanked the “old man” for his recent promotion. The General stated, that’s ridicules, a young man of your talents, cannot be just a Sergeant, from this moment your rank, in my Army, is Lieutenant, you’re dismissed.
It didn’t take long for the youthful Lieutenant to conclude, that as long as he could quench the General’s thirst, his future career in the Union Army was assured. The possibilities were endless and delusions of life as a ranking Union Officer befuddled the Tennessee Volunteer. But there was the rub, what would the “old man” do, if the newly promoted Lieutenant’s supply of the Tennessee Taste ran low. He began to scour the camp, like a demon, searching high and low for more of the mountain elixir, that could guarantee his continued success, as a favorite of the Commanding General. But, alas not one more drop of the Tennessee Taste remained in camp and the General was requesting the Lieutenant’s immediate presence.
The Tennessee Lieutenant, looking real hang-dog, approached the Commanding Officer’s tent and plaintively blurted, Sir, there’s not a smidgen of taste left in camp and I’m surely sorry, cause I knowed that if I had enough, I’d of been a Brigadier General afore long.
So even though his career, as a Union Officer, was a short one, the young mountain volunteer and his Tennessee Taste had satisfied the General when he was thirsty.
Bummer
