Hardtack and Culinary Ingenuity

The American Civil War (1861–1865) was a defining conflict of the 19^th century marked by profound social and political upheaval. For many enlisted men on both sides of the conflict, this turmoil saw them thrust into another unexpected arena: the kitchen, where they were compelled to learn the unfamiliar art of cooking for themselves. Among these rations, hardtack – a dry, nearly indestructible biscuit – became the cornerstone of their diet. The inedibility of hardtack presented an opportunity for the soldiers to devise ingenious ways to transform the biscuit, often referred to as “tooth breakers,” into a more palatable meal.[1] Enlisted soldiers were able to develop a unique culinary culture that provided comfort and a connection to home, as well as allowing for a sense of personal agency through the alteration of government issued rations.

Hardtack–reproduction (photo by Katie Migneault)

Hardtack was made from flour and water, baked at low temperatures to eliminate moisture. This meticulous preparation process ensured hardtack’s long shelf life, making it an ideal ration for the Union Army, as it could be stored for extended periods and distributed when needed.[2]Typically issued in servings of nine biscuits, it was often paired with salt pork and coffee, forming the daily diet of Union soldiers.

Mid-19th-century gender norms dictated that cooking was women’s work, leaving most enlisted men with little to no culinary experience. Yet, out of necessity, soldiers began experimenting with their rations, altering hardtack in creative ways to make it palatable. Personal letters, diaries, and memoirs reveal two recurring themes: humor in describing hardtack’s inedibility and pride in the inventive ways they made it more enjoyable.

The modifications soldiers made to hardtack can be categorized into four levels of complexity, reflecting increasing skill and resourcefulness.

Tier One: Simple Additions

The easiest way to make hardtack edible was to pair it with other ingredients, requiring no cooking. Many soldiers placed a slice of salt pork on top, sometimes adding sugar if available. William Bircher, a drummer boy in the 2^nd Minnesota Volunteers, noted in his diary that hardtack was “usually eaten in a raw state, a thin slice of nice fat pork was cut down and laid on the cracker and a spoonful of good brown sugar was put on top of the pork, and we had a dish fit for a soldier”.[3] Similarly, Wilbur Hinman of the 65th Ohio Infantry recalled using bacon to add flavor. These modifications, shared across regiments, illustrate a universal effort to enhance their rations with whatever was available.

“Frying Hardtack” from Hardtack and Coffee by John Billings

Tier Two: Basic Cooking Techniques

Soldiers soon discovered that hardtack could be softened and made more palatable through cooking. Frying it in pork fat or toasting it over an open flame became common. Private Wilbur Fisk, from the 2^nd Vermont Volunteers, noted “there are all attempts to modify the flavor of our plain fare – for instance, to warm over our meat in a spider and fry our crackers in the surplus fat”.[4], a method widely known as “skillygalee.” This technique not only improved texture but also allowed soldiers to experiment with flavors, demonstrating a growing confidence in their makeshift kitchens.

Tier Three: Physical Transformation

More advanced modifications involved breaking down hardtack entirely. Soldiers crushed it into a coarse flour, making it a base ingredient for stews, pancakes, and other meals. This process also served a practical purpose – checking for weevils or bugs, which were common in stored rations. Private Fisk described a makeshift hash, “My tent-mate has just brought from the fire a savory dish of ‘hash’ which he has prepared from hardtack and fresh beef… it doesn’t need to cook long, and when it is done, he has a dish good enough for anybody.”[5]  Similarly, “hell-fired stew,” a heartier version of skillygalee, showcased a sophisticated understanding of flavor, seasoning, and texture.

Tier Four: Culinary Creativity at Its Peak

The most elaborate hardtack recipes transformed the biscuit into something unrecognizable, often bordering on the indulgent. Within these alterations, the soldiers knew their culinary efforts might lead to a disastrous affair and all ingredients would be wasted. Bircher documented a recipe for hardtack pudding:

The great triumph of the culinary art in camp, to my mind, was “hard-tack pudding.” This was made by placing the biscuit into a stout canvas bag and pounding the bag and contents with a club on a log until the biscuits were reduced to a fine powder then we added a little wheat flour- the more the better. Then a stiff dough was made, which we next rolled out on a cracker box lid, like a piecrust, then we covered this all over with a preparation of stewed dried apples, dropping here and there a raisin or two for “Auld Lang Syne’s sake,” rolled and wrapped it in a cloth, boiled it for an hour or so, and ate it with wine sauce. The wine was usually omitted and hunger inserted in its stead.[6]

Another account described toasting hardtack and spreading it with condensed milk or sugar – a rare treat in camp life. These recipes highlight a remarkable level of culinary skill and a deep-seated desire for comfort food amid wartime hardship.

The Civil War reshaped not just the political landscape of the United States but also the daily lives of its soldiers. Forced to take on a task traditionally reserved for women, these men adapted and innovated, creating a unique culinary culture within the confines of war. Hardtack, though despised, became a canvas for their ingenuity. Whether frying, stewing, or repurposing it into makeshift delicacies, soldiers demonstrated resilience through food, proving that even in the most challenging circumstances, creativity – and a desire for a good meal – endures.

Sources

[1] Bell Irvin Wiley, The Life of Billy Yank: The Common Soldier of the Union (Louisiana State University Press, 2008), 237.

[2] John Billings, Hardtack and Coffee, or, The Unwritten Story of Army Life (University of Nebraska Press, 1993), 113.

[3] William Bircher, A Drummer-Boy’s Diary (St. Paul Book and Stationery Co, 1889), 125.

[4] Emil Rosenblatt, and Ruth Rosenblatt, Hard Marching Every Day: The Civil War Letters of Private Wilber Fisk-1861–1865 (University Press of Kansas, 1992), 32.

[5] Rosenblatt, Hard Marching, 93.

[6] Rosenblatt, Hard Marching, 126.

About the Author

Katie Migneault is both a professional chef and a culinary historian finishing her MA in History at University of Massachusetts-Boston. She works as the Retail Manager at the Museum and keeps a jar of hand-made salt pork on her desk.