The Drunken Band
Christmas Eve morning, 1863, found the 650 men of 16th Maine Infantry camped relatively comfortably in their winter quarters near Kelly’s Ford. The morning was a frigid one. The “brigade bugler blew a blast long enough and loud enough to wake the dead,” recorded Major Abner R. Small, the regimental adjutant.
“In an incredibly short period,” he continued, “tents were struck, and the Sixteenth were in line and reluctantly marching away from their comfortable home to the tune of ‘The Girl I Left Behind Me.’ The cold was so intense that in less than five minutes, the band’s instruments froze up, and in silence the brigade marched.” The men in the ranks were likely grumbling. They had just finished an exhausting Mine Run campaign, marching across the Rapidan River, only to march back again. They erected what they thought were the quarters where they would stay over the winter but now were marching to who knows where. [i]
The brigade marched twelve miles and bivouacked in a marshy forest near Mitchell’s Station on the Rapidan River. A few days later, they marched another two miles, bivouacking in the mud and cold awaiting orders. “The last day of the year [December 31, 1863] found us in an exposed and suffering condition on the extreme outposts of the Army of the Potomac,” Small wrote. “Frozen, muddy, and weary, the regiment broke ranks, stacked arms and prepared for lunch.” Due to both the cold and their fatigue, the men were issued a whiskey ration. [ii]
No sooner were the fires kindled, and the whiskey downed, an “order was issued for the regiments of the brigade to hold a dress parade! Swear words were at a premium.” The last thing the tired men of the 16th Maine wanted was to clean their muddy uniforms, polish their brass and guns, and parade through mud. They must have thought, as any veteran soldier would, what do the officers want – fighting soldiers or band-box soldiers? And is this really necessary in the cold and mud? As one soldier said.” I do not know of anything that will enrage volunteers so much as tramping through the mud without having some definite good come out of it.” [iii]
Abner Small narrated what happened next:
The adjutant had the bugler make the bugle call and the growling men got into line, but there was no response from the band leader. The call was repeated, and yet no reply.
With no sign of the band, Adjutant Small was sent by the brigade commander to resolve the issue. When the adjutant found the band, he could see that they had had more than their fair share of the whiskey ration. The adjutant addressed the band leader:
“Mr. Shea, did you hear the call?”
Mr. Shea, always a gentleman and doffing his hat, managed to say, “Ashtant, I’m puty d-r-r-runk, hope you’ll skuse me.”
“How is the B flat, Mr. Shea? [Asked the adjutant, hoping the second was able to lead.]
“Hes-bad off siam.”
“How is Locke?”
“Slaid down – drefful tired.”
“O nonsense, Mr. Shea,” said the adjutant, “there is a cold spring of water down there; send for a pail full or two, bathe your heads, and drink a quart or so, and you’ll be O.K. Hurry up.”[iv]
Being responsible for the attendance of the band, the adjutant returned and hoped for the best. Soon the band was seen staggering up to its place at the head of the column of soldiers. The bugle call sounded and the review began. As they marched:
The ground seemed very uneven and full of cradle knolls to the band, and now and then the leader would lose a note, trying to catch it, would clash with the B flat, and sandwiched in between the alto and bass, and somehow the bass drum would persist in coming down heavy on the upbeat, and the cymbals forgot to clang when they should and closed with a crash when they should have been still.
The colonel then ordered the march to double-time. Somehow the order was misunderstood by the band. Small noted:
. . . Half the band struck up one tune and the other half another. It was too much! Then rang out the colonel’s voice, in tones that drowned the band, “Parade is dismissed!” Well – the adjutant received a reprimand, but [thought] it was worth it. The band enjoyed it, and I think all did, from the smile which went down the line. Certainly, the Sixteenth was the most jolly[sic] regiment in the brigade. They laughed so loud and so long, that the other regiments took it up, and so good nature spread, and the adjutant forgiven. [v]
On New Year’s Day the men of the 16th Maine awoke to a bright sun filled sky. After roll call and a reviving drink of hot coffee, the men’s good humor began to prevail. Word was given to erect winter quarters and the men went to work with a will. The band, now somber, welcomed a new band leader, Frank Richardson, on January 2. Under his direction the band would become one of the best in the corps.[vi] All the same, the men from Maine would always fondly remember the drunken band that got them out of parading in the mud.
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[i] Small, Abner R., The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, Portland Maine, B. Thurston & co., 1886, p. 159. Image 104 of The Sixteenth Maine regiment in the war of the rebellion, | Library of Congress The 16th Maine was part of the 1st brigade, 2nd Division, I Corps, Army of the Potomac. It was commanded by Maj. Arch D. Levitt in place of Lt. Col. Farnham who was absent on leave.
[ii] Ibid. p. 160
[iii] Charles Biddlecom to Esther Biddlecom, February, 9, 18644. Quoted in Carmichael, Peter S., The War for the Common Soldier: How Men Thought, Fought, and Survived in Civil War Armies, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press2018, p. 60.
[iv] Ibid. pp. 160-161 The brigade was commanded by Col. Samuel H. Leonard
[v] Ibid, p. 161
[vi] Ibid. pp. 162-164. Richardson’s salary was $100.00 per month, paid by the officers. The 12 members of the band were: John Shea, first E flat; P. Coolbroth, second E flat; Charles A. Locke, first B flat; H.W. McKenney, second B flat; B. Johnson, first alto; Wesley Weber, second alto; D.H. Thorpe, first tenor; Samuel B. Geary, second tenor; Charles H. Gould, baritone; James A. Barrows, tenor drum; Robert C. Brown, bass drum; and Eben Curtis, bass.
Now THAT is hilarious! I love the stories of Civil War soldiers who among the misery of war find those seldom shared moments of human frivolity.