nd in the whole army.

But it was not by death alone that precious material wasted faster than
a whole series of battles could carry it off. Under such circumstances
the living rot as well as the dead. Physically and morally the men
deteriorate for want of occupation that interests them. Most of our
Western volunteers were farmers' boys, fresh from an active, outdoor
life. They were shut up in the barracks, with no exercise but three or
four hours of monotonous drill, no outdoor life but a lounge over the
level parade ground, and no amusements but cards and the sutler's shop.
Their very comforts were noxious. The warm, close barracks in which they
spent perhaps twenty hours out of the twenty-four, would enervate even a
man trained to sedentary habits; and the abundant rations of hot food,
consumed with the morbid appetite of men who had no other amusement,
rendered them heavy and listless. In our regiment, at least, it was
absolutely necessary to cut down the rations of certain articles, as for
instance of coffee, and to prevent their too frequent use. The cooks
told us that it was not an uncommon thing for a man to consume from four
to six quarts of hot coffee at the three meals of a single day.

Upon their minds the influence was even greater than upon their bodies.
More enthusiastic soldiers never assembled in the world than came up
from all parts of the country to the various rendezvous of our
volunteers. This is not merely the partial judgment of a fellow
countryman. In conversation with old European officers of great
experience, who had spent the autumn in instructing different regiments,
I have heard testimony to this effect more flattering than anything
which I, as an American, should dare to say. Of course a part of this
enthusiasm was founded on an illusion which experience must sooner or
later have dispelled; but wise policy would have husbanded it as long as
possible, by putting them into service which should at the same time
have fed their love of adventure and given them practice in arms. Even
as a matter of drill--which to some of our officers seems to be the
great end, and not merely the means of a soldier's life--this would have
been an advantage. The drill of a camp of instruction is not only
monotonous, but meaningless, because neither officers nor men are yet
alive to its practical application. Had these men been placed at once
where something _seemed_ to depend on their activity, instruction in
tac