^^. ///v. 
 
Adver)bures ar)cl ReiT)ir)iscer)ces 
 
 OF A 
 
 VOLUNTEER, 
 
 OR A 
 
 B 
 
 ruiT)n}er juoy ^toit) i>^iaii)e 
 
 M, 
 
 BY 
 
 GEO. T. ULMER, 
 
 Company H, 8ti£ Maine Volunteeus. 
 
 Dedicabed bo bl^e Grapd Arr^y Republic. 
 
-f: 
 
 'ntered according to the Act of Congress, in t'.ie year 1S92, 
 
 by C~o. T. UL^:ER, in the office cf the Librarian 
 
 of Congress, at Washington D. C. 
 
F»FeE:)I^.A.OE. 
 
 In submitting this little book the author does not 
 attempt to edit a history of the rebellion, nor does he 
 assume to be correct in the date of events to a day. 
 He does not hope or expect to make a hero of him- 
 self by writing it, for he was far from doing anything 
 heroic, believing, as he does, that most of the heroes 
 of the war were killed. Perhaps the writing of this 
 book may stamp him a hero, and for his audacity in 
 so doing some one may kill him. But he intends to 
 clothe his little work in homely, rugged, common- 
 place language. Not striving to make it a work of 
 literary merit, only a truthful account of an unimport- 
 ant career and experience in the army. It may, per- 
 haps, be interesting to some of his comrades, who 
 recollect the incidents or recall similar events that 
 happened to themselves, and thereby serve the pur- 
 pose of introducing one of the youngest soldiers 
 and a comrade of that greatest and most noble of all 
 organizations, the Grand Army of the Republic. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Ge(h>ige T. Ulmer. 
 
Jlr.Wf.,. .ill'lllllWilllJlllllnllllillli'lllllillllK 
 
OMBARDMENT of Fort Sumter. 
 This was the beginning and the first 
 sound of actual war which inspired me, 
 and kindled the fire of patriotism in 
 my youthful breast. The little spark- 
 lay smoldering for two long years, 'till 
 at last it burst forth into a full blaze. 
 When Fort Sumter was bombarded, I was a midget 
 of a boy ; a barefooted, ragged newsboy in the cit}- 
 of New York. The bombardment was threatened 
 for several weeks before it actually occurred; and 
 many nights I would have been bankrupted, but that 
 everyone was on the "qui vive " for the event, and I 
 got myself into lots of trouble by shouting occasionally, 
 "Fort Sumter Bombarded!" I needed money; 
 it sold my papers, and I forgave myself. When the 
 authentic news did come, I think it stirred up within 
 me as big a piece of fighting desire as it did in 
 larger and older people. I mourned the fact that I 
 was then too small to fight, but lived in hopes that 
 the war would last until I should grow. If I could 
 have gone south, I felt that I could have conquered 
 the rebellious faction alone, so confident was I of my 
 fio-htiniT abilities. 
 
6 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 In the fall of '6i my dear mother died, and my 
 father who had a great desire to make possibilities 
 out of improbabilities, and believing a farm the 
 proper place to bring up a family of boys, bought 
 one away in the interior of Maine. The farm was very 
 hilly, covered with huge pines and liberally planted 
 with granite ledges. I used to think God wanted to 
 be generous to this state and gave it so much land 
 it had to be stood up edgeways. Picture to yourself, 
 dear reader, four boys taken from the busy life of a 
 great city, place them in the wilderness of Maine, 
 where they had to make a winrow of the forest to 
 secure a garden spot for the house, pry out the stumps 
 and blast the ledges to sow the seed, then ask your- 
 self what should the harvest be ? 
 
 Father's business required all of his time in New 
 York City, and we were left with two hired men to 
 develop the farm, our brains and muscles, but mine 
 didn't seem to develop worth a cent. I didn't care 
 for the farmer's life. The plow and scythe had no 
 charms for me. My horny, hardened little hand 
 itched and longed to beat the drums that would mar- 
 shall men to arms. 
 
 After eight months of hard work we had cleared 
 up quite a respectable little farm, an oasis in that forest 
 of pines. A new house and barn had been built, also 
 new fences and stone walls, but not much credit for this 
 belonged to me. Soon after we received a letter from 
 father stating that he would be with us in a short time 
 and bring us a new mother and a little step-sister. This 
 was joyous news, the anticipation of a new mother. 
 
TIIK DRUMMER BOV FROM MAINE. 7 
 
 and above all a step-sister, inspired us with new am- 
 bition. The fences and barn received a coat of white- 
 wash, the stones were picked out of the road in front 
 of the house, the wood-pile was repiled and ever}- 
 thing put into apple-pie order. We did not know 
 what day they would arrive. So each day about the 
 time the stage coach from Belfast should pass the 
 corners, we would perch ourselves on the fence in front 
 of the house to watch for it, and when it did come 
 in sight, wonder if the folks were in it; if they were, 
 it would turn at the corners and come toward our 
 house. Day after day passed, and they did not come, 
 and we had kind of forgotten about it. Finally one day 
 while we were all busy burning brush, brother Charlie 
 came rushing towards us shouting, ' ' The stage coach 
 is coming! The stage is coming!" Well, such a 
 scampering for the house ! We didn't have time to 
 wash or fix up, and our appearance would certainly 
 not inspire our city visitors with much paternal pride 
 or affection; we looked like charcoal burners. Our 
 faces, hands and clothes were black and begrimed 
 from the burning brush, but we couldn't help it; we 
 were obliged to receive and welcome them as we 
 were. I pulled up a handful of grass and tried to 
 wipe my face, but the grass being wet, it left 
 streaks all over it, and I looked more like 
 a bogie man than anything else. We all 
 struggled to brush up and smooth our hair, but it 
 was no use, the stage coach was upon us, the door 
 opened, father jumped out, and as we crowded 
 around him, he looked at us in perfect amazement 
 
8 THE DRUMMER EOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 and with a kind of humiliated expression behind a 
 pleasant fatherly smile he exclaimed, "Well, well, 
 you are a nice dirty looking lot of boys. Lizzie,'' 
 addressing his wife and helping her to alight, "This 
 is our family, a little smoky; I can't tell which is which, 
 so we'll have to wait till they get their faces washed to 
 introduce them by their names." But our new 
 mother was equal to the occasion for coming to each 
 of us, and taking our dirty faces in her hands, kissed 
 us, saying at the same time, "Philip, don't you mind, 
 they are all nice, honest, hard-working boys, and I 
 know I shall like them, even if this country air has 
 turned their skins black." At this moment a tiny 
 voice called, "Please help me out." All the boys 
 started with a rush, each easier to embrace the 
 little step-sister. I was there first, and in an 
 instant, in spite of my dirty appearance, she sprang 
 from the coach right into my arms ; my brothen 
 strueeled to take her from me, but she tiorhtened hei 
 little arm.s about my neck and clung to me as if 1 was 
 her only protector. I started and ran with her, my 
 brothers in full chase, down the road, cvqt the 
 stone walls, across the field, around the stumps 
 with my prize, the brothers keeping up the chase till 
 we were all completely tired out, and father com- 
 pelled us to stop and bring the child t<) the house. 
 Afterward we took our turns at caressing and ad- 
 miring her; finally we apologized for our behavior 
 and dirty faces, listened to father's and mother's con- 
 gratulations, concluded father's choice for a wife was 
 a good one, and that our little step-sister was just 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 9 
 
 exactly as we wanted her to be, and the prospect of a 
 brig-ht, new and happy home seemed to be already 
 realized. 
 
 A home is al! right 
 
 With father and brother, 
 But darker than night 
 
 Without sister and mother. 
 
 The war erew more and more serious. News- 
 
 t> 
 
 papers were eagerly sought ; and every word about 
 the struggle was read over and over again. A 
 new call for troops was made, another and still 
 another, and I was all the time frettingf and chafincr 
 in the corn or potato field, because I was so young 
 and small, I could not work ; the fire of patriotism 
 was burning me up. My eldest brother had arrived 
 at the age and required size to fit him for the service ; 
 he enlisted and went to the front. This added new fuel 
 to the flame already within me, and one day I threw 
 down the hoe and declared that I would go to the war! 
 I would join my brother at all hazards. My folks 
 laughed at me and tried to dissuade me from so un- 
 wise a step, but my mind was made up, and I was 
 bound to enlist. Enlist I did, when I was only four- 
 teen years of age and extremely small for my years, 
 but I thought I would answer for a drummer boy if 
 nothing else. I found that up hill work, however, 
 but? I was bound to ' ' get there, " and — I did. 
 
 It was easy enough to enlist, but to get mustered 
 into the service was a different thino-. I tried for 
 eight long weeks, I enlisted in my own town, but 
 
lO ^ THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 was rejected. I enlisted in an adjoining- town — re- 
 jected, and so on for weeks and weeks. But I did 
 not g-ive up. I owned at the time a little old gray 
 horse and a two-wheeled jumper or "gig," which I 
 had bought with my savings from the sale of ' ' hoop 
 poles," which are small birch and alder trees that grow 
 in the swamps, and used for hoops on lime casks ; at 
 this time they were worth a half a cent a piece deliv- 
 ered. I would work cutting these poles at times 
 when I could do nothing else, pack them on my back 
 to the road, pile them up, till I had a quantity to sell. 
 At length I concluded t had enough to buy me a 
 horse and cart; the pile seemed as big as a house 
 to me, but when the man came along to buy them, 
 he counted out six thousand good ones and rejected 
 nine thousand that were bad. ' 'Too small !" he said. 
 "Too small?" I exclaimed, "why there is hardly 
 any difference in them !" But he was buying, I was sel- 
 ling, and under the influence of a boy's anxiety, he paid 
 me thirty dollars, which I counted over and over 
 again, and at every count the dollars seemed to mur- 
 mer, "A horse, a horse! — war! war! to the front! be 
 a soldier!" I could picture nothing but a soldier's 
 life ; I could almost hear the sounds of the drums, 
 and almost see the long rows of blue-coated 
 soldiers marching in glorious array with steady 
 step to the music of the band. "Thirty! thirty!" 
 I would repeat to myself, but finally concluded 
 thirty wouldn't buy much of a horse, but my 
 heart was set upon it, and nothing remained for 
 me to do but cut more "poles." One day when 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. II 
 
 I arrived at the road with a bundle of them, a farmer 
 happened to be passing, driving a yoke of oxen as I 
 tumbled my hoop-poles over the fence on to the pile. 
 
 "Heow be yer?" Addressing me in a high, nasal 
 twang peculiar to the yeomanry of Maine, and then 
 calling to his oxen without a change of tone, he 
 drawled, "Whoa! back! Whoa you, Turk! Whoa, 
 Bright !" at the same time hitting the oxen over 
 their noses with his sfoad-stick, and restinof on the 
 yoke, he asked, What yer goin' ter dew with them 
 poles? " 
 
 "Sell them," I replied. 
 
 "What dew yer want for 'em'*" taking in the 
 height and width of the pile with a calculating eye. 
 
 ' ■ Fifty cents a hundred, " I said, with some trep- 
 idation. 
 
 " Don't want nothin', dew yer," coming over and 
 picking out the smallest pole in the pile; 'Pooty 
 durned small, been't they? What'll yer take fur the 
 hull lot?" 
 
 'Twenty dollars," I said. 
 
 "Twenty dollars! Whew!" Emitting a whistle 
 that would have done credit to a locomotive exhaust- 
 ing steam. ' ' Why, thar been't more'n a thoiisan' 
 thar be thar?" 
 
 "Oh yes, I guess there are over four thousand." 
 
 "Say!" sticking his hands in either breeches 
 pocket and taking me in from head to foot with a 
 comprehensive glance, "What might "er name be?" 
 
 " Ulmer, " I said. 
 
12 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM: MAINS. 
 
 "No? You been't Phil's son, be yer?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Yer don't tell me! Wall, by gosh! I like Phil, 
 he's a durned smart 'un. I'll tell yer what, I'd like 
 ter see him and Jimmie Blaine a settin' up in them 
 gol-durn presidential cheers; why, by gosh, they'd 
 jist open the hull durned treasury bildin' an let all 
 ther gor-ramed gold an' silver role right out inter 
 the streets, by gosh, they would." Having deliv- 
 ered himself of this panegyric, together with an 
 accumulated quantity of saliva resulting from the 
 constant mastication of a large tobacco quid, he again 
 turned his attention to the pile of poles and said, 
 " How much did yer say fur the lot?" 
 
 ' ' Twenty dollars. " 
 
 "Twenty!" Drawing the corners of his mouth 
 down and stroking his chin, then turning to me, 
 "Wall, more I look at yer, by gosh, yer do look like 
 Phil. Wall, I'd like purty well ter have them poles, 
 but—," as if a sudden idea had struck him, — "Don't 
 want ter trade fur a horse, dew yer?" 
 
 "What kind of a horse?" 
 
 "Wall, a pooty durned good \\n. I hain't druve 
 him much lately, but he yused ter go like smoke; 
 he's a leetle old but, will prick up his ears like a 
 colt when he's a mind ter. " 
 
 ' ' Well, I do want a horse, if I can trade for 
 one, " I said, trying not to show anxiety. 
 
 ' ' Say, got time ter get on' ter the waggin an go 
 over to my farm and see him, take dinner with me ? 
 Guess, the old woman '11 have enough for both. " 
 
tHE DRLfMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 13 
 
 Being anxious, I accepted the invitation, and was 
 soon on the way. He pestered me with all kinds of 
 questions; asked all about my family affairs and told 
 me all of his and every other family for miles about. 
 Finally we reached his house, one of those old- 
 fashioned farm houses with several old tumble-down 
 sheds and out-buildings attached, near by an old barn 
 that was once painted red, the shingles had rotted and 
 blown off here and there, so you could see daylight 
 from any portion inside. Scattered about were old. 
 wagon boxes, odd wheels, old toothless harrows, 
 plows, a wheelbarrow upside down with the wheel 
 gone, part of an old harness lying across it; bits of 
 harness were hanging on pegs in the barn. Geese, 
 turkeys and chickens were numerous and clucked 
 about as if they were really pleased to see us, and in 
 fact, I discounted or anticipated the looks of the house 
 from the careless dilapidated appearance of every 
 thino- around and about the old man's farm. 
 
 He finally unyoked his oxen, 
 dropped the yoke right where he 
 
 took it off and 
 
 
 : turned his 
 cattle into the 
 " ^ }'ard. "Now 
 then, we'll eet 
 V a bite to eat, 
 'and I'll shov/ 
 you two horses, and durn me if I won't give you 
 
14 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 your choice and a good trade. " ' ' Martha-Ann, " he 
 called, "Martha-Ann!" 
 
 In a moment a little, bright, bustling old woman 
 came to the door and shading her eyes with her 
 apron, called back : ' ' What is it, Dan'l ? Did you 
 bring the merlasses, and candles, and the broom?" 
 
 ' ' Yes, " he answered back. 
 
 "And the salt?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And the rennet for the cheese, and the salt- 
 pork?" 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes, " he answered, "and I've brought 
 a young man, Phil. Ulmer's son; goin to trade him 
 'Dick.' 
 
 "What?" said she, cominof out to where we 
 were. " Now, Dan'l, you are not going to do any- 
 thing of the kind." 
 
 " Yes, I be," he said. 
 
 ' ' You shan't, I wont have my horse sold ; you 
 know he is the only one I can drive, and he is so 
 kind and gentle, and the only good horse you have ; 
 you shan't sell him. And then she sat down on the 
 cart-tongue and cried as if her heart would break, 
 and I began to think I was going to really get a 
 splendid horse at a bargain. 
 
 All through the dinner she sobbed, and when she 
 would pass me bread or anything, it was with a heart- 
 broken siofh, and I beofan to want that horse. 
 
 Finally dinner finished, he took me to the barn. 
 There were two horses together standinof on the barn- 
 floor eating corn-husk. They both looked as if they 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 1 5 
 
 never had eaten anything- else. One was a bay, and 
 the other a grey ; they were so poor that you could 
 mistake either for a barrel with half the staves 
 fallen in. 
 
 "Thar, sir, be two fine critters; you can have 
 either; this grey one is Dick, the one the old woman 
 is so sot on, but he's getting too frisky for her ter 
 handle, he's the best dispositioned animal yer ever 
 saw; yer do anything with him, he's always ready. Get 
 him with 'tother on a load at the bottom of a bie hilJ 
 and he's thar every time; yer see, he's a leetle sprung 
 in one knee thar, he done that by pulling; it don't 
 hurt him a bit ter drive, and go! Why, do you know 
 he's trotted in two minutes? You notice, one eye 's 
 bit off color! Blue? Wall sir, that was strained a 
 leetle by watching over his blinder to see that no 
 other hoss should pass or get near him when he were 
 druve on the race track twelve years ago, but it don't 
 hurt him now." 
 
 ' ' You praise this horse, " I remarked, ' 'but don't 
 say a word about the other. " 
 
 "Oh, he don't need it," said the old man dryly. 
 
 I was so anxious to get a horse, I concluded to 
 take Dick. I thought, he must be the best on 
 Martha-Ann's account, and really there didn't seem 
 much choice. 
 
 " You want a harness and waggin too, don't yer?" 
 
 " Yes, " I replied, "I shall have to have some- 
 thing to drive him in. " 
 
 ' * Wall, I guess I can fix you out with a full rig. " 
 
 So after looking through the sheds, he pulled out 
 
1 6 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 an old gig with one shaft broken and without wheels. 
 "Guess I'll find the wheels of this somewhar. Do 
 you know this is the same gig that very Dick yused 
 ter haul on the race track ; he may remember it after 
 yer hitch him into it. If he does, you want to look 
 out for him, and here are the wheels. " 
 
 He pulled them out of a pile of old lumber and 
 rubbish, and fitted them on; one was badly dished in 
 and was painted red, the other was as badly dished 
 out and one day had been painted yellow; but I was 
 anxious and didn't object ; I wanted to get home. 
 
 So after getting the ' ' gig " together, he patched 
 a harness from the odd pieces he found, then fitted 
 them on to the poor horse who looked as if he was 
 sorry he was alive. 
 
 Finally we had everything all ready. I mounted 
 the "gig." As I did so, I noticed it seemed one sided, 
 and looking at the wheels, I found one was somewhat 
 larger than the other, but said nothing. Taking up 
 the lines made up my mind to get home and fix it 
 there. I pulled on the reins and spoke to "Dick,'' 
 but he didn't move. The old man took him by 
 the bridle and led him to the road remarking at 
 the same time, " Dick never did like to go away from 
 home." 
 
 After we reached the road, the old man hit "Dick" 
 with a hoe handle, and off he started. It was four miles 
 from his house to ours, and I reached home next day. 
 Figured up what the whole thing cost me: The horse 
 stood me 133.50, the "gig" $7.50, and the harness, (?) 
 75 cents. This was my outfit to make or break me. 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. If 
 
 My brothers laughed at my trade, but I didn't care, 
 I had a purpose, and I was bound to accompHsh it. 
 
 When I wanted to use my "rig," to harness the 
 horse, I was obHged to take a ladder to put his bridle 
 on, lead him alongside of the steps to put the saddle 
 and breeching on, and back him up to the well -curb 
 to put his tail in the "crupper," and after he was 
 hitched to the " "fisf, " nine times out of ten he would 
 wait till he was ready to go. 
 
 Some time after I learned that uncle ' ' Dan'l " 
 was a regular horse dealer and kept just such old 
 plugs around him, and that they were always his wife's 
 favorites when the old man wanted to get one off his 
 hands. However, Dick and I became great friends. 
 I fixed up the old ' 'gig, " and it answered my purpose. 
 I got there with it. 
 
 It became a customary daily routine for me to 
 harness this poor animal, start at sundown and drive 
 all night. Where? Why to Augusta to try and get 
 mustered in, but I would always ride back broken 
 hearted and disappointed, my ardor, however, not 
 dampened a bit. I became a guy to my brothers and 
 neighbors. My father and step-sister indulged me in 
 my fancy, helping me all they could — father by fur- 
 nishing me with money, and step-sister by putting up 
 little lunches for my pilgrimages during the night. 
 They thought me partially insane, and judged it 
 would be best to let me have my own idea, with the 
 hope that it would soon wear off. But it didn't. 
 I would not give up. The Yankee yearning for fight 
 had possession of me, and I could neither eat, sleep 
 
1 8 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 nor work. I was bound to be a soldier. I prayed 
 for it, and I sometimes thought, my prayers were 
 answered ; that the war should last 'till I was big 
 enouo^h to be one — for it did. 
 
 I had enlisted four times in different towns, and 
 each time I went before a mustering officer, I was 
 rejected. "Too small" I was every time pronounced, 
 but I was not discouraged or dismayed — the indomit- 
 able pluck and energy of those downeast boys per- 
 vaded my system. I was bound to get there, for what 
 I didn't know, I did not care or didn't stop to think. I 
 only thought of the glory of being a soldier, little 
 realizing what an absurd-looking one I would make ; 
 but the ambition was there, the pluck was there, and 
 the patriotism of a man entered the breast of the wild 
 dreamy boy. I wanted to go to the front — and I went. 
 
 After several unsuccessful attempts to be mus- 
 tered into the service at Augusta, which was twenty- 
 five miles from our little farm, I thought I would enlist 
 from the town of Freedom and thereby get before a 
 different mustering officer who was located in Belfast. 
 I had grown, I thought, in the past six weeks, and 
 before a new officer, I thought my chances of 
 being accepted would improve; so on a bright mor- 
 ning in September I mounted my "gig, " behind my 
 little old gray horse, who seemed to say, as he 
 turned his head to look at me when I jumped on to 
 the seat, ' ' What a fool you are, making me haul you 
 all that distance, when you know they won't have 
 you! " but kissing my little step-sister good-bye, with 
 a wave of my hand to father and brothers who 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINi:. 1 9 
 
 stood in the yard and door of the dear old home, I 
 drove away, and as I did so I could see the expres- 
 sions of ridicule and doubt on their faces, while un- 
 derneath it all there was a tinge of sadness and fear. 
 They did not think for a moment. I would be mustered 
 into the army, yet fear took possession of them when 
 I drove off, for they knew my determined disposition. 
 
 Well, I arrived in Belfast. Instead of driving 
 direct to the stable and hotel, and putting my horse 
 up, I drove direct to the office of the mustering officer. 
 I did not need to fasten my trusty horse, for he knew 
 it Mould only be a few moments, and as I went to the 
 office door, he turned his head and whinnied as if he 
 were laughing at me. I entered that office like a 
 young Napoleon. I had made up my mind to walk 
 in before the officer very erect and dignified, even to 
 raising myself on tiptoe. On telling the clerk my 
 errand, he ushered me into an inner office, and imag- 
 ine my surprise — my consternation — when, swinging 
 around in his chair, I found myself in the presence of 
 the very officer who had rejected me in Augusta so 
 many times. 
 
 " Damn it, '' said he, " will you never let up? Go 
 home to your mother, boy, don't pester me any more. 
 I will not accept you, and let that end it." 
 
 I tremblingly told him "I had grown since he saw 
 me last, and that by the time I was mustered in I 
 would grow some more, and that I would drum and 
 fight, if it should prove actually necessary.'' 
 
 Thus I pleaded with him for fully one hour. 
 Finally he said, "Well, damned if I don't muster 
 
20 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 you in, just to get rid of you. Sergeant, make out 
 this young devil's papers and let him go and get 
 killed. " My heart leaped into my mouth. I tried to 
 thank him, but he would not have it. He hurried me 
 through, and at 5:30 p. m., September 15, 1863, I 
 was a United States soldier. And when I donned 
 that uniform, what a looking soldier! The smallest 
 clothes they issued looked on me as if it would 
 make a suit for my entire family, but in spite of the 
 misfit, I took them and put them on, with the pants legs 
 rolled up to the knees, and the overcoat dragging on 
 the ground. 
 
 I went out of that office as proud as a peacock, 
 but a laughing-stock for the boys, and all who gazed 
 at me. I think even the old horse smiled and looked 
 askance ; he acted as if I was fooling him, and hungry 
 as he was, when he turned towards the stable, he 
 dragged along as if he either were sorry or ashamed 
 to draw me among people ; but I cared not for their 
 jeers and laughs. I was now a soldier and anxious to 
 get home. I pictured the feeling and joyous greet- 
 ings of my brothers and sister as they would see me 
 ride up in my uniform; how the boys would envy me, 
 and how the sister would throw her arms about me 
 and kiss me, and how her bosom would heave with 
 pride as she gazed upon the uniform that covered her 
 hero brother. Oh! I pictured it all in my boyish 
 fancy, and hastened all my arrangements, so full of 
 joy that I could scarcely eat. I would not wait till 
 morning, but started home about midnight, arriving 
 there just at sunrise. 
 
THE DRUMMER BUY EROM MAINE. 2 1 
 
 It was on the lyth of . September, 1863, one of 
 those bright, balmy days that we have in good old 
 New England, seated in a "gig/' might be seen the 
 writer of this little sketch, dressed in soldiers' clothes, 
 covered by one of those familiar cape overcoats that 
 nearly covered the "gig" and poor old horse. I felt 
 as proud as if I was the general in command of all 
 the army. 
 
 Instead of giving the family a surprise, 
 they had heard of my enlisting from the stage- 
 driver, and I found them all in tears. But when 
 I made my appearance tears changed to laughter, 
 for the sight of me I think was enough to give 
 them hope. They didn't believe our government 
 would have such a little, ill-dressed soldier. And 
 father said, after looking me all over: "Well, if 
 they have mustered you in, after they see you in that 
 uniform it will be muster out, my boy." 
 
 In about ten days I received orders to report in 
 Augusta. Then the family realized there was more 
 in it than they at first thought, but consoled them- 
 
22 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 selves with the behef that when I reached head- 
 quarters, I would be found useless, and sent home. 
 I went away, leaving them with that feeling of hopti 
 struggling behind their copious tears. And the linger- 
 ing kiss of my little step-sister, and her soft sobbing, 
 ' ' Don't, don't, please don't go, " as she hung around 
 my neck, ran constantly in my mind from that time 
 till now. All through the nights, on the long 
 marches, in all my troubles, that soft, sweet voice 
 was calling, * ' George, please, please, don't go. " 
 And I could see her little form, and her ever-thought- 
 
 o 
 
 fal face, a guiding star and a compass that ever 
 guided me away from the shoals and quicksands. 
 She was an angel companion to me all through the 
 trials and hardships of that awful war. 
 
 Well, I arrived in Portland, was sent to the bar- 
 racks with three or four thousand others, was allotted 
 a hard bunk, and then for the first time did I realize 
 what I was doing, what I had committed myself to, 
 and I think if I could have cauofht that musterino- 
 officer I should have appealed to him just as hard to 
 muster me out, as I did to muster me in ; but I was 
 in it and must stay. I will never forget the first day 
 of my soldier experience. With what feeling of awe 
 and thumping of my cowardly, timid heart, I heard 
 the different commands of the officers. The disciplin- 
 ing began ; the routine of a soldier's life had really 
 started right in Portland, far away from the front 
 where I had only expected to find it. I was detained 
 in those barracks only a few days, and the tap of the 
 drum, and the sound of the bugle as they sounded 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 2;^ 
 
 their different calls, had grown monotonous to me ; I 
 no longer regarded them with awe, but wMth mockery. 
 1 wanted to go to the front where the real life of a 
 soldier was known, where glory could be won. I 
 wanted the reality, not boy's play. 
 
 I was glad when I was numbered among a squad 
 of about 200 who had orders to go to Washington. 
 That night we marched down to the depot and were 
 crowded into cars. I did not care: I was overjoyed ; 
 I was delighted at the prospects of going to 
 the seat of war, near the front, where I thought 
 I might hear the booming of the cannon, and to 
 a place where I would soon be forwarded to my 
 regiment. We arrived in Boston, and to my dis- 
 appointment, were laid over. We were marched to the 
 barracks on Beach street, which in early day- was 
 the ' ' Beach Street Theater. " The seatn, benches, 
 gallery, stage and scenery were all there, and we 
 were crowded into this old, unused temple of Thespis 
 to select a place to sleep where best we could, on the 
 floor, or anywhere. Here I began to grow sick of 
 soldiering ; we were in this old musty theater with a 
 guard over us, not allowed to go on the street, and 
 unable to find out how long we were to be incarcer- 
 ated there, for we were treated more like prisoners 
 than men who had volunteered to serve their country. 
 
 I thought it a great hardship at that time, and 
 kicked at it loud and hard, without any result that ben- 
 efited us; but since I have been through it all, I can see 
 where it was absolutely necessary to use the rigid and 
 seemingly ungrateful discipline. Well, v^•e were kept 
 
^4 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 in the old theater for about a week; we were allowed 
 out for two hours each day on passes, and in the even- 
 ing we sang songs and "acted" on the stage. Eajh 
 one who could recite or do anything did it, and it was 
 appreciated by a deadhead audience, something un- 
 usual nowadays. It was here in this old Baach 
 Street Theater that my future life was undoubtedly 
 mapped out ; from that time I was impressed with a 
 desire to become an actor, and there is no doubt that 
 the seed was planted then and grew and increased in 
 after years. 
 
 On the iith of November," we were ordered to 
 Washington, and embarked on the steamboat train 
 via Fall River, and I shall never forget when we 
 arrived in New York, the demonstration, the greet- 
 ing, the cheers, the God-speeds that we received as 
 we marched through the city to the ferry, and it 
 seemed to me that I was the one all this was meant 
 for ; I thought I was a hero. It seemed that all eyes 
 were on me, and perhaps they were, for among all 
 those Maine giants I belied my state, for I was a dot 
 only, a pigmy beside those mighty woodsmen. 
 
 We arrived in Washington without mishap. I 
 was granted permission to go over the city, and then 
 to report to the commanding officer of the camp at 
 Alexandria. My first desire when I found myself 
 with a privilege in the great capital was to visit Pres- 
 ident Lincoln, have a talk with him and also with 
 Secretary Stanton. My admiration for those two 
 men was almost love, and I fancied, now that I was a 
 soldier, that I could easily meet them ; that they 
 
Our Troops Passing Through Washington to the Tront. 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY EROM MAINE. 25 
 
 would grasp me by the hand, compliment and shower 
 me with congratulations and advice. It is needless to 
 say that I found out that I had overestimated my im- 
 portance ; I did not discuss the war situation with 
 either of those gentlemen. I was a little crestfallen 
 at not meeting them, but contented myself by looking 
 over the city ; and wherever I went I noticed I was 
 scrutinized by everybody ; soldiers on guard would 
 come to a halt, hesitate and then present arms ; some 
 officers would pass me by, then turn and look me 
 over from head to foot ; others would touch their 
 caps and then turn and watch me with a kind of won- 
 dering gaze, as much as to say, ' ' What is it ? "' 
 
 I forgot to mention that while in Portland 
 I had a tailor make me a very handsome suit of mil- 
 itary clothes. He was as ignorant of the regulation 
 style as I was. He only knew the colors and knew 
 that I wanted it nice and handsome. He made it and 
 so covered it over with gold braid and ornaments, 
 that you could not tell whether I was a drum-major 
 or a brigadier-general ; that accounted for the saluta- 
 tions and looks of astonishment I received. 
 
 The first night I was tired out and started for 
 Alexandria ; arrived at headquarters about midnight, 
 and told the sentry I must see the colonel. He 
 thought I had important messages, or was some 
 officer, and escorted me to the colonel's quarters. I 
 woke him up, told him I had reported and wanted 
 a bed. 
 
 The colonel said, "Is that all you want? Cor- 
 poral, put this man in the guard-house.'' He did! 
 
26 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 That was my first experience, and I always after 
 tried to avoid guard-houses. The next morning I 
 was given a broom and put to sweeping around camp 
 with about twenty tough-looking customers. The 
 broom did not look well with my uniform, and as 
 soon as an officer noticed me, I was summoned before 
 the colonel in command. He asked, what I was? I 
 told him I didn't know yet — would not know 'till I 
 reached my regiment. He had a hearty laugh at my 
 appearance; said I ought to be sent to some fair 
 instead of the front. However, he detailed me as 
 his orderly. I held this position some time, until 
 one day there was going to be a squad of recruits, 
 and returned furlouo^hed men sent on a stcam-barofe to 
 the front at City Point, where Butler was bottled up. 
 I asked to be one of them. The colonel told me I 
 was foolish, and better stay with him, but I insisted ; 
 and he allowed me to go. The barge was a kind of 
 an open double-deck boat without cabin or shelter, 
 and they crowded us on to her as thick as we could 
 stand ; we were like sardines, I secured a position 
 against the smoke-stack, and before we reached Chesa- 
 peake bay I was glad of it, for it became bitterly cold, 
 and I curled down around this smoke-stack, went to 
 sleep, and when I awoke in the morning I was crisp, 
 dirty, and nearly roasted alive. We crossed the bay in 
 the afternoon. Oh, w^asn't it rough! This old river 
 barge would roll and pitch out of sight at times, and 
 we were all wet from head to foot. Then I began to 
 wish myself home on the farm again ; but I was in 
 for it, and could not back out. I had one thought 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 27 
 
 that buoyed me up. the thought of meeting my 
 brother. 
 
 That evening we passed by Fortress Monroe, up 
 the James river. There was not much transpired 
 to reheve the monontony or appease our hunger or 
 thirst ; in fact, it began to look dubious as to reaching 
 City Point. The monotony, however, was somewhat 
 reheved in the morning. About dayHght a com- 
 motion was caused by the sound of distant can- 
 nonading. Every one crowded to the front of the 
 boat; everybody was asking questions of everybody. 
 Each one had some idea to offer as to the cause. 
 Some ventured to say it was a gunboat up the river 
 practising. One old chap, who had evidently been 
 to the front, facetiously claimed that it was the corks 
 out of Butler's bottles. The river was very crooked 
 at this point, and you could not see very far ; but 
 presently we rounded a bend in the river, which re- 
 vealed to us where the cannonading came from, but 
 for what, we- could not make out. About a mile 
 ahead of us lay a United States gunboat, and every 
 few minutes a puff of smoke, and then a loud bang — 
 erang — erang — erang — with its long vibrations on that 
 still morning, awoke a sense of fear in everyone aboard 
 that boat. No one could account for the situation. 
 Even the captain of the barge stood with pallid cheek, 
 seemingly in doubt what to do as he rang the bell to 
 slow down ; but on — on we kept moving — nearer and 
 nearer this most formidable war-ship, and as we did 
 so the shots became more frequent. Then we noticed 
 a man on the bank waving a flag back and forth, up 
 
28 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 and down in a wild, excited sort of a way. I asked 
 what that meant. An old soldier said the man was 
 signaling the boat to let them know they had hit 
 the target. 
 
 Suddenly we were brought to an understand- 
 ing of what it all meant, for we could now hear the 
 musketry very plain, and could even see the rebels 
 on the banks of the river. At this point a "gig" 
 from the gunboat pulled alongside and gave orders 
 to the captain "to land those troops at once," telling 
 him at the same time that this was Fort Powhatan 
 landing ; that Fitzhugh Lee with his cavalry had 
 swooped down upon the garrison, which was only 
 composed of two hundred negro troops, and that 
 they must be re- enforced. The captain protested, as 
 the troops on board were all unarmed, being returned 
 furloughed men and recruits ; but it was no use, the 
 order was im.perative, and the captain headed his 
 baro-e toward the shore. There was no wharf. That 
 had been burnt, so he was obliged to -run as far as 
 he could onto the sand, then land us overboard. I 
 tell you as that boat neared toward the shore, my 
 face felt as if it were marbleized ; sharp twinges ran 
 up and down my whole body, and I'll bet that I was 
 the picture of a coward. I was not the only one. I 
 looked them all over, every one looked just as I felt. 
 One man who stood near me, I know, was more 
 frightened than I, for he was so frightened he smelt 
 badly. But I didn't blame any of those poor men; 
 it was not the pleasantest thing in the world to be 
 
Battle betivecn Monitor and Merrimack off Fortress Motiroe. 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 29 
 
 placed before the enemy as we were. However, we 
 all landed. 
 
 The tiring above us on die bank became more 
 intense. An officer who was on the boat with us, 
 returning from a leave of absence, assumed command. 
 He ordered us to fall into line, and marched us into a 
 little ravine, halted, and told us the position and 
 necessity of the occasion. He said the fort was a 
 very important position, and must be held at all 
 hazards ; that there were only two hundred colored 
 troops there, and they could not hold it. Now, he 
 proposed, as we had no arms, to go in with a rush 
 and a yell, and make those rebels think that re-enforce- 
 ments had arrived. All this time the musketry firing 
 was increasino-, The whizz of bullets throueh the air 
 and about our heads were becoming too frequent. I 
 was in the front rank, center of the line, and I tell 
 )Ou I think I had a little of that frightened smell about 
 me at this time. Whether it w^as that or my looks or 
 what, the officer probably took pity on me and told 
 me to skirmisli in the rear. I hardly knew where the 
 rear was, but I thought it would be safer under the 
 bank of the river, and there I hastened, and none too 
 soon, for the rebels had made a break throuofh the 
 lines and poured several volleys into our poor, un- 
 armed re-enforcements. The rebs became more cau- 
 tious, and that was what was wanted, as the only 
 hope we had was to hold them at bay until re-enforce- 
 ments could arrive. 
 
 Well, I skirmished in the rear, and I found it 
 hotter than the front, for the rebs would crawl to the 
 
30 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 bank at either end of the breastworks and kept a 
 cross-fire up and down the river. Under and against 
 the banking-, there was a sort of old barn ; this was 
 filled with hay. The bullets were flying around so 
 thickly that I squeezed myself behind this barn, and 
 after I was well in, the bullets just rained against that 
 old building ; but I felt pretty secure till I looked up 
 overhead — I saw that while I was in safety from 
 bullets, a worse dano-er threatened me. The over- 
 hanging bank was liable to cave in and bury me alive. 
 
 The uncertainty of my position became more 
 and more apparent. Each moment the increased 
 storm of bullets on the barn prevented me from even 
 looking out, and the constant rattling down of dirt 
 and pebbles from above, told me plainly what a posi- 
 tion I was in. I tell you I wished then I had never been 
 mustered in. The uncertainty of my position was 
 soon developed. I came to myself and found I was 
 buried to my neck ; my head and face were cut and 
 bleeding, and a soldier was trying to wipe the sand 
 from my eyes and ears. I found I had not been shot, 
 but the banking had caved in and buried me. Gen. 
 ' 'Baldy" Smith, who was in command, happened to see 
 me behind the barn just as the bank caved in. It was 
 he who put the soldiers at work to rescue me. As 
 soon as I was out, and the dust out of my eyes, the 
 general rode down to the beach, leading an extra 
 horse ; he called to me. Ordered me to mount. I 
 did so. He made me his orderly. 
 
 A new danger. I was to carry dispatches across 
 the field, but I did not now have the fear I did at 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 3I 
 
 first. I did not mind the sound of the bullets. I 
 became accustomed to it, and 1 rode back and 
 forth all day long without a scratch. I believe 
 I was so small that I rod(^ between those bul- 
 lets, and from that time forth I had no fear. I 
 felt as though I were bullet-proof. I felt as if 
 it were ordained that I should go through the 
 war unscathed and unscarred. It did seem so, for I 
 would go through places where it rained bullets, and 
 come out without a scratch. This was my experience 
 all through, and was commented on by comrades, 
 who said I had a charmed life. Well, the day wore 
 away the rebs making feints first at one point, then 
 another. pinally they concentrated their forces 
 against one point, and would have carried it, too, but 
 just then a steamboat loaded with troops rounded the 
 bend of the river. Well, the shouts that went up 
 from the handful of brave soldiers at the sieht of 
 that boat I never can forget. The boys on the boat 
 caught the soimd. They took in the situation, and 
 answered back the shout with three long, hearty 
 cheers. It created consternation in the rebel lines. 
 They knew the jig was up, but they drew up 
 in line, like dare-devils that they were, and with a 
 cool deliberation, poured volley after volley into the 
 side of the steamer until her nose touched the shore. 
 Well, to see those soldiers leave that steamer was a 
 sight never to be forgotten. They jumped overboard 
 from every part of her. It did not seem five minutes 
 from the time she touched shore until the banks were 
 swarminof with our bo\'S in blue. The rebels had 
 
32 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 taken to flight — our boys followed some distance, and 
 then returned, reHeving us and allowing us to embark 
 again for City Point. After the rebels had retreated, 
 I went outside the breastw^orks, and the sight that met 
 my eyes on every side would curdle the blood of 
 stouter hearts than mine. It appeared that Lee, with 
 his cavalry, had surprised the pickets, and being- 
 negroes, every one they captured they would hang up 
 to a tree after they were mutilated. I saw several 
 with fmgers cut off in order to obtain a ring quickly, 
 and many other sickening sights which tended to 
 make me a hardened soldier. I was havine lots of 
 experience, even before I had really reached my regi- 
 ment, and I tell you, the heroic ardor of my boyish 
 dream was beginning to ooze out of me quite fast. I 
 began to think I was not cut for a soldier. 
 
 Well, my first battle was over, my first exper- 
 ience before an enemy. The first sound of musketry 
 had died aw^ay, and we were again steaming towards 
 City Point to join our regiments. We arrived there 
 the next night about ten o'clock. There didn't seem 
 to be any one in command of us or any one to direct 
 us. It was very dark on shore, but in the distance 
 you could see a glaring light above the horizon, as if 
 there was a long building on fire. But from the 
 occasional sound of guns from that quarter, I made 
 up my mind it was the advance line of our army. It 
 was Butler's command, and our regiment, the Eighth 
 Maine, must be there. The Eighth Maine, Company 
 H, was the regiment and company to which my 
 brother belonged, and in which I was enlisted. I 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 33 
 
 Started out across the fields in the direction of the 
 Hg-ht — on, on I tramped, into ditches, through mires, 
 over fences. The farther I went the faster I went. 
 I was so impatient I could not hold myself to a walk ; 
 it was a dog-trot all the time. I was heedless of 
 every obstacle, till I began to near the front. I 
 realized the danger by the whizzing of shell, and the 
 zip, zip of bullets. I found myself among lots of 
 soldiers, and how ragged and dirty the poor fellows 
 looked. I asked the first man I came to where the 
 Eighth Maine was? He looked at me in perfect 
 astonishment. "This is the Eighth, what's left of it.'' 
 I asked him if he knew where my brother was — 
 Charley Ulmer? "Oh, yes," he said, and pointing 
 to a little group of men, who were round a wee bit of 
 a fire; "there he is, don't you know him?" 
 
 I hesitated, for really I could hardly tell one 
 from the other. He saw my bewilderment, and took 
 me by the arm and led me over to the fire. They 
 all started and stared at me, and to save my life I 
 could not tell which was my brother ; but one more 
 ragged than the rest uttered a suppressed cry, rushed 
 forward, and throwing his arm about my neck, sobbed 
 and cried like a child. "My God! my brother! Oh 
 George, George, why did you come here?" His 
 grief seemed to touch them all, for they all began to 
 wipe their eyes with their ragged coat-sleeves. This 
 began to tell on me, and for the next ten minutes it 
 was a kind of a blubbering camp. After awhile they 
 reconciled themselves, and began to ply me with 
 questions faster than I could answer. My brother sat 
 
34 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 down with me and lectured me very soundly for com- 
 ing-, as there was no need of it. He gave a graphic 
 description of the hardships they had endured, and I 
 can never obliterate the picture he presented that 
 night. His clothes were ragged and patched, be- 
 grimed with smoke, grease and dirt ; his hat an old 
 soft one, with part of the rim gone and the crown 
 perforated with bullet holes ; his beard scraggly and 
 dirty ; his big toes peeping out. of a pair of old boots 
 with the heels all run down, in fact, he was a sight — 
 a strong contrast to my tailor-made suit. I will 
 never forget the expression on my brother's face 
 when about half an hour after my arrival he looked up 
 to me with his eyes half full of tears glistening on 
 that dirty face, and with a kind of cynical smile, 
 asked, after looking me over and over: "What are 
 you, anyhow?" 
 
 I told him I didn't know. 
 
 "Well, after you have been here awhile, those 
 pretty clothes won't look as they do ncv/, and you 
 will probably find out what you are after you have 
 dodged a few shells." 
 
 Our conversation was brought to a climax by 
 orders to break camp and fall in. We learned we 
 were going to embark somewhere on a boat ; every- 
 thing was hustle-bustle now ; little sheltered tents 
 were struck, tin cups, canteens, knapsacks were made 
 ready, and in about fifteen minutes that begrimed, 
 dirty, hungry family of Uncle Sam's was on the 
 march to the river. We were marched on board an 
 
THE DRUMMER BOV FROM MAIXK. 35 
 
 old ferry-boat, and crowded so thickly that we 
 could scarcely stand. My brother seemed now to 
 feel that he had the responsibility of my comfort, 
 even my life, on his hands — and beinof a favorite he 
 elbowed me a place at the end of the boat, where we 
 could sit down by letting- our feet hang- over the end 
 of the boat. In that position we remained. We 
 didn't have room to stand up and turn around. I was 
 awful sleepy, but dared not g-o to sleep for fear I 
 would fall overboard. Finally my brother fixed me 
 so I could lay my head back, and he held on to me 
 while I slept. The next morning we landed at a 
 place called West Point, on the York river; why we 
 landed there we didn't know. Of course soldiers 
 never did know anything- of the whys and wherefores; 
 they only obeyed orders, stood up or laid clown and 
 got killed — they had no choice in the matter. Well, 
 we landed, and I tell you, we were stiff and hungry. 
 While they were unloading the horses, which was 
 done by lowering them into the water and letting 
 them swim ashore, which took some time, they 
 allowed us a chance to skirmish for food. About 
 half a mile from the river were a dozen houses — nice- 
 looking places. Towards these we started ; they 
 were all closed up; they all looked deserted; there 
 was not a sign of life, except the cackle of hens or 
 chickens in the hen-house. Chickens were good 
 enouo^h for us, antl I was one of the first to tret to the 
 pen ; secured two handfuls of chicks, and was just 
 emerofinp- with them when a bio- woman confronted 
 me ; she stood and looked me straight in the eye, 
 
36 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 and with both hands held on to a mastiff, that to me 
 looked as big as an ox. 
 
 "How dare you?" said she. 
 
 " I don't," said I. 
 
 "What are you doing with my chickens, you 
 good-for-nothing Yankee thief?" 
 
 I tried to apologize, but it was no use. Even 
 my pretty uniform had no more effect than my elo- 
 quence. I simply put Mr. and Mrs, Chicks down 
 and backed out of the yard. She was good enough 
 to hold on to the dog, for which I was very grateful. 
 I think I had more respect for the dog than the lady. 
 However, I had to resort to pork and hard tack for my 
 breakfast. About noon that day we began our march. 
 Where we were going, everbody guessed, but none 
 knew. I didn't care. I was now a kind of a half- 
 settled soldier, but from the first, I .was a kind of 
 privileged character. No one gave me orders. No 
 one seemed to claim me. I had never been assigned 
 to any company. I never had to answer roll-call. I 
 could go and come as I pleased. Once in awhile a 
 guard would halt me, but not often. They didn't 
 know what I was, and they didn't care. All the after- 
 noon we marched. Our route was along the railroad, 
 the rails of which had the appearance of being 
 recently torn up by the rebels. About four o'clock 
 I was becoming very tired. We came to a clearing, 
 and some distance in the field was a darky plowing 
 with a mule. I made a break for him, and the rest 
 of that march I rode. No one objected, but the boys 
 shouted as I made my appearance on the mule ; a 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 37 
 
 mile or two further along we sighted a farm-house. 
 I drew reins on my mule and made for the house ; I 
 made the boys glad on my return, for I secured a 
 demijohn of applejack, a big bundle of tobacco, and 
 a box of eesfs. That successful raid rave me cour- 
 aee, and 1 becjan to think that was what I was 
 destined for, and I liked it first-rate, for it was a 
 pleasure to me to see those poor, hungry boys have 
 any delicacy, or even enough of ordinary food. 
 
 That night we had to halt, for the rebs had 
 burned the bridge, and we had to wait for pontoons. 
 The boys were tired and hungry. A guard was 
 posted to prevent any foraging, but I was a priv- 
 ileged character, and I bolted through the lines. I 
 had seen some pigs and calves scamper into the 
 swamp about half a mile back from where we halted, 
 and thinking a bit of fresh meat would be nice for the 
 boys, I determined to have some. Cautiously I 
 stole away, till I arrived at the edge of the swamp ; 
 and such a jungle! It was almost impossible to pen- 
 etrate it, so I skirted the edge, hoping to see a 
 pig emerge. After tramping an hour I was rewarded 
 by seeing a calf. I drew my revolver, sneaked up 
 and fired at poor bossy. It dropped — I was a good 
 shot — but when I reached the poo' / ;ast I found it 
 was as poor as a rail and covered with sores as big as 
 my hand. I was disappointed, but cut off as much 
 as I could that was not sore, and took it to camp. 
 We put the kettles on the fires in short order, and my 
 brother's company had fresh meat broth — the first 
 fresh meat in a month — and I tell )'Ou it was good. 
 
38 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 even if it had been sore. After that episode Com- 
 pany H claimed me and dubbed me their mascot. I 
 accepted the position, and from that time forth I 
 devoted my time to foraging, steaHng anything I 
 could for my company, and I doubt if there was a 
 company in the whole army that fared better than 
 ours, for I was always successful in my expeditions. 
 After a long, tedious march across pontoons, 
 over corduroy roads, we confronted the Johnnies at 
 "Cold Harbor." It was here that I found myself in a 
 real, genuine battle. I got lost in the scuffle. I 
 found myself amidst bursting shell and under heavy 
 musketry fire. I was bewildered and frightened. I 
 did not know which way to go. I ran this way and 
 that, trying to find my brother and regiment. Every 
 turn I made it seemed I encountered more bullets 
 and shells. Soldiers were shouting' and runninor in 
 every direction, artillery was galloping here and 
 there, on every side it seemed they were fighting for 
 dear life. On one side of me I saw horses and men 
 fall and pile up on top of each other. Cannon and 
 caissons with broken wheels were turned upside 
 down, riderless horses were scampering here and 
 there, ofifiicers were riding and running in all direc- 
 tions, the shells were whizzing- through the air, and 
 soldiers shouting at the top of their voices. Every- 
 thing seemed upside down. I thought the world had 
 come to an end. I tried to find shelter behind a tree, 
 away from the bullets, but as soon as I found shelter 
 on one side it seemed as though the bullets and shells 
 came from all sides, and I lay down in utter despair 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 39 
 
 Desperate Charge of Confederates to Capture a Union Battery. 
 
 and fright. I don't know how long- I was there, but 
 when I awoke I thought the war was over, it was so 
 still. I thought every one had been killed on both 
 sides, excepting myself. I was just thinking I would 
 try and find a live horse, ride back to Washington 
 and tell them that the war was over, everybody was 
 killed, when my brother tapped me on the shoulder 
 and asked me where I had been. He had gone 
 through it all, escaped with the loss of one toe, and 
 had come to the rear to have it dressed and find me. 
 The next morning I was sent with the "Stretcher 
 Corps " under a flag of truce to the battle field to help 
 
40 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 take the wounded to the rear and bury the dead, and 
 when we reached the scene, how well could I imaofine 
 what the awful struggle had been. The worst of the 
 great conflict had occurred in an orchard, and there 
 the sight was most appalling; dead and dying heroes 
 were lying about as thick as a slumbering camp 
 would be, sleeping with their guns for pillows the 
 night before a battle ; to many of those poor fellows 
 it was that sleep that knows no waking, while to 
 others it was the awaking froni unconsciousness by the 
 twinges of a mortal gaping wound, awake just long 
 enough to get a glimpse of the Gates Ajar, sink back 
 and start on that journey from which no traveler 
 returns. 
 
 Blue and the gray were mingled together on this 
 awful field of slaughter, and both sides seemed to re- 
 spect the solemnity by a cessation of hostilities, and 
 the hushed silence was only broken by the painful cry 
 of some helpless wounded, or dying groans of others. 
 The little white cloth we wore around our arms to 
 denote, we belonged to the stretcher corps, seemed 
 to add to the sadness of the occasion, for to those 
 poor wounded souls we were like ministering 
 angels, and as I moved from one to the other with 
 tear dimmed eyes offering water and assistance to those 
 who needed it I saw many incidents of bravery and 
 self-sacrifice that went far toward ameliorating the 
 suffering and obliterating the bitterness of the blue 
 and the gray. I noticed one poor fellow who had 
 spread his rubber blanket to catch the dew of the 
 night sharing the moisture thus gathered with an 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 4I 
 
 unfortunate confederate who had lost a leg. Another, 
 a confederate was staying the life-blood of a union 
 officer by winding his suspenders around the mangled 
 limb. Oh! the horror of such a picture can never be 
 penned — or told, and contemplated only by soldiers 
 who have been there. 
 
 One-half of our reo-iment had been killed or 
 wounded. After this thing-s settled down into a sieee. 
 I employed my time foraging for the company. One 
 day I found an apple orchard, gathered as many 
 apples as I could carry, took them to the company 
 and made apple-sauce without sweetening. They ate 
 very heartily of it, poor fellows. It was a treat for 
 them ; but it was a bad find, for the next day the 
 whole lot of them were unfit for duty. That nearl.y 
 put a stop to my reconnoitering. Our regiment lay 
 here in the advance line of breastworks for thirteen 
 days. The sappers and miners were constantly work- 
 king our breastworks towards the enemy, and every 
 time I wanted to reach my company I found it in a 
 new place and more difficult to reach. The rebel 
 sharpshooters, with their deadly aim, were waiting 
 for such chaps as me. However, under cover of night, 
 I always managed to find and reach the company with 
 some palatable relish. 
 
 I will never foreet one ni^jht ; four men were 
 detailed to go to the rear for rations. The commissar)- 
 was located about two miles to the rear, and the wagon 
 could only haul the rations within one mile of us on 
 account of jungle and rebel sharpshooters. Therefore 
 these men were detailed to pack the rations the rest 
 
42 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 of the way. I was one of the detail from my com- 
 pany. We went back to the covered wagons that 
 were waiting for us. The boys said I was too small 
 to walk, and they threw me into the rear end of one 
 of the wagons. We got to the commissary tent — 
 a long tent open at both ends — and from both ends 
 they weighed out the rations of coffee, sugar, etc. 
 While the soldier who was doincr the weig-hine on one 
 end had his back turned, I managed to fill my haver- 
 sack from a full barrel of coffee that stood at the end 
 of the tent. I had two haversacks for that purpose, 
 for I went there with that intent ; but I came away 
 with only one filled. " I could not get a chance for the 
 other ; it was on the wrong side. Finally the rations 
 were all aboard, and we started back. The boys 
 repeated the operation of throwing me into the vv^agon 
 again, and there was my opportunity. I would till 
 my other haversack from the bags in the wagon ; 
 that's what the boys expected I would do, and I did 
 from the first bag I could get into. Each company 
 had its own bagf. 
 
 When we arrived at the breastworks my com- 
 pany crowded around me for plunder. I divided 
 it up, and was looked upon as quite a hero, but when 
 the rations were issued it was found our company's 
 bag was short about thirty rations of sugar, but no 
 one said a word. It was surmised that it got spilled. 
 Day after day our regiment lay there and our army did 
 not seem to gain anything. I was becoming disgusted 
 and discouraged. 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 :3i 
 
 b 
 ^ 
 
 :>i 
 
 s 
 
44 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 One night the Johnnies made a charge on us. 
 That was the only time I ever fired a gun in the whole 
 war, and I honestly believe I killed a dozen men, for 
 immediately after they stopped firing. It was only a 
 few moments, however ; on they came, only to be 
 repulsed. They kept that up nearly all night, and I 
 served my country by standing down in the trench, 
 loading a gun and passing it up to my brother to fire. 
 I did this all night, but I didn't see any less rebels in 
 the morning. Our next order was to fall back, under 
 cover of darkness. We fell back about a mile and 
 halted for some reason, I thouo-ht to Qret breakfast. 
 Anyway I built a little fire behind a stone wall, put 
 my coffee-pot on and the remnants of a pot of beans. 
 They were getting nice and hot ; my brother and I 
 stood waiting, smacking our lips in the anticipation 
 of a feast, when whizz came one of those nasty little 
 " Cohorn " mortor shells and it dropped right into our 
 coffee and beans. Then the bugle sounded, "fall in," 
 and we started with downcast hearts and empty 
 stomachs, and a longing good-bye to the debris of 
 beans and coffee. It was a tiresome march. Of 
 course, we didn't know where we were going, and 
 that made it all the longer. 
 
 We eventually brought up at White-House land- 
 ing on the York river, where we were put on board 
 of a steam transport without being given time to 
 draw rations. From there we steamed down the 
 York and up the James river to the Appomattox, and 
 up the river to Point of Rocks. We landed here on 
 the Bermuda Hundred side, in the rear of Butler's 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAIM-:. 45 
 
 works, obtained some bread and coffee, and then 
 crossed the Appomattox on pontoons and pushed on 
 towards Petersburg. Our regiment belonged at that 
 time to the 2nd brigade, 2nd division of the i8th 
 corps, commanded by Major General "Baldy" Smith. 
 We soon met the enemy^s pickets in front of 
 Petersburg. They fled before that long, serpentine 
 file of blue-coats like deer. On, on we went. We 
 could see the rebels running in their shirt sleeves, 
 throwing coats, guns and everything in their mad flight. 
 I don't think there was a shot fired on either side 'till 
 we reached a fort, Smith I think it was called. It 
 was just at dusk. This fort was located on a mound 
 or hill with a ravine in front of it. Our brigade was 
 drawn up in line of battle in a wheat-field on the right. 
 A colored brigade was ordered to charge the fort 
 from the hill opposite, and across this ravine ; then I 
 beheld one of the grandest and most awful sights I ever 
 saw; those colored troops started on a double quick, 
 and as they descended the hill, the fort poured volley 
 after volley into them. The men seemed to fall like 
 blades of grass before a machine, but it did not stop 
 them; they rallied and moved on; it was only the 
 work of a few minutes. With a yell they were up and 
 into that fort, and in less time than it takes to tell it, 
 the guns were turned on the fleeing rebels. Here 
 was the greatest mistake of our greatest commander. 
 All of our army was brought to a standstill by some 
 one's foolish order. Not another move was made. 
 We lay there waiting, and all night long we could 
 hear the trains rumbling along on the other side of the 
 
46 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 Appomattox river. Lee had been outwitted. We had 
 stolen a march on him We had arrived in front of 
 defenseless Petersburg, and could have gone right in 
 and on to Richmond without a strusfo-le. But that 
 fatal order to halt gave him all night to hurry his forces 
 from Cold Harbor, and in the morning we found 
 plenty of determined rebels in front of us, and thereby 
 the war was prolonged months and hundreds and thou- 
 sands of lives lost. I swore all. night. I kicked and 
 condemned every general there was in the army for 
 the blunder I saw they were making. I only wished 
 I could be the general commanding for one hour. But 
 it was no use; I couldn't be. 
 
 I was nothing but a boy. But I had my ideas. 
 I thought, perhaps, more than some of the officers 
 did. I kept myself posted on facts and the topog- 
 raphy of the country. The dispositions of generals 
 was a matter of grave importance to me. I believed 
 generals should be selected to command, not for their 
 qualifications in military tactics alone, not because 
 they had graduated well-dressed from ' ' West Point, " 
 but for their indomitable pluck, judgment and honesty 
 of purpose. It did seem to me that some of our best 
 officers were invariably placed in the most unimpor- 
 tant positions and commands. Take, for instance, 
 "Custer's'' Brigade of daring men, headed by those 
 intrepid officers, Alger and Towns, wasting their time 
 and imperiling the lives of thousands of good soldiers 
 around " Emettsburg, '^ " Gordonsville, " "Bottom 
 Bridge, " carrying out the foolish orders of superiors 
 in command. Why could not these officers of cooj 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY !• ROMM AlXE. 47 
 
 judgment be with us at this critical moment? — they 
 made their victories, what would they have done had 
 they the great opportunities that were* presented to 
 others who failed? 
 
 All night about the camp-fire the boys would 
 delight in nagging me — getting me into arguments 
 and debates. They called me the ' midget orator of 
 the Army of the Potomac." I will never forget one 
 night soon after the advance on Petersburg ; we were 
 clustered about with coffee cups and pipes ; an argu- 
 ment waxed warm in regard to the possibilities of the 
 war lasting two more years ; finally I was called upon 
 for my views. "Midget,'' said Col. McArthur, "If 
 you had supreme command of our army, what would 
 you do?" 
 
 What would I do? If Uncle Sam would S'ive 
 me one regiment from each State in the Union — give 
 me Grant, Burnside, Sherman, Sheridan, Custer, 
 Alger, Hooker, Hancock, Thomas and Siegel to 
 command them, I would take Richmond and settle 
 the rebellion before they had time to wire and ask 
 Stanton if I should. This was received with cheering 
 and applause. But my boyish fancies and ideas were 
 never gratified ; I never had the pleasure of seeing 
 my ideal army together, and Richmond was not taken 
 for many months afterward. 
 
 A few days after our regiment was drawn up in 
 line of battle in a wheatfield. It was just nightfall. 
 I was lying down on the bank of a ditch waiting for 
 the move-forward. Suddenly a shell came over my 
 
48 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 head and bust right in the center of my company. I 
 thought I saw legs and arms flying in all directions. 
 I started on the dead run for the rear. I believed 
 I was going right, but it seemed as if the shells were 
 coming from our own guns in the rear. I thought 
 they had mistaken us for the enemy, I could see the 
 shells coming, and every time they would fire, I would 
 fall on my stomach, and thought they all went just 
 over my head. I was soon, however, out of range, 
 and began to feel easy, when a new fear took posses- 
 sion of me. What if I had, in my bewilderment, 
 run into the rebel lines? I saw just ahead of me an 
 old-fashioned southern mansion, with a hieh board 
 fence all around it, and in the inclosure several small 
 cabins used for the slaves to live in. I could not 
 remember seeing this before, so I made up my mind 
 I was actually inside rebeldom. However, I decided 
 to make the best of it, and if I were or were not I 
 would see if I could find something to eat. With 
 fear and faltering steps I moved toward the big gate, 
 swung it open, and it gave an awful squeak as it 
 swung on its old rusty hinges. There was not a sign 
 of life in or about the place, and that gave me hope 
 and courage. In the center of the yard was a large 
 hen-house. Cautiously toward this I crawled, heard 
 the cackle of fowl, went first on one side then on the 
 other, looking for the door; and imagine my surprise, 
 the fear that took possession of me — my hair stood 
 on end ; for sitting there on a bench back of this hen- 
 house were two big Johnnies. I could'nt speak, I 
 couldn't move, till one of thern said, ' ' Good evening, 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 49 
 
 sar ; got anything to eat?" "Yes, yes,'' I stam- 
 mered, "I have some hard-tack." Finally, one of 
 them seeing I was most scared to death, spoke up 
 and said, "Don't be alarmed ; we are only deserters 
 and want to give ourselves up ; show us to head- 
 quarters. '' I was brave now. I gave them what 
 hard-tack I had, and marched them ahead of me back 
 to the rear, till we found headquarters. Afterward, 
 I was offered a furlough for capturing two of the 
 enemy. I never told this before ; I took the credit. 
 But I was not satisfied; I'd rather have some of those 
 chickens than live rebels. So back I went and I got 
 five ; started back to the rear, put a kettle on a 
 fire and boiled them, kept them three days, till I 
 found my brother and the remnant of the regiment. 
 When I did find them I made their hearts glad by 
 showing them the boiled chickens. They were awful 
 hungry and set to eating with a ravenous appetite, 
 but they could not eat them, hungry as they were. 
 I had no salt, and so put a big chunk of salt beef in 
 the pot instead of salt, consequently the chickens 
 were saltier then Lot's wife 
 
 I think I felt more disappointed than anybody, so 
 I determined to make up for it in some other way. 
 The regiment finally brought up in the first or advance 
 line of breastwork, and I was still skirmishino- in the 
 
 O 
 
 rear for anything that I could find that was good. 
 
 I had tramped back to the rear about three miles, 
 my mind bent on securing anything that would please 
 the heart and eye, or tickle the palates of the brave 
 
50 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 fellows who had gone to face the enemy and do the 
 real work of our country. About a quarter of a mile 
 to the left of me I espied a covered wagon moving 
 toward the front. I wondered what it was and where 
 it was bound for, as from the frequent halt it made, it 
 seemed the driver was lost to himself. I bore down 
 toward him and found it was a sanitary wagon, loaded 
 with good things sent out by the ladies of the north. 
 The driver was an old man — one of those long, lanky 
 nidividuals who might be taken for a parson or a horse 
 dealer. He reminded me of the " Arkansaw Trav- 
 eler." His clothes were of the salt and pepper home- 
 spun goods, a little worse for wear and very ill fitting, 
 they looked as if he had lost fifty pounds of flesh 
 since he started from home ; his pants were tucked 
 into a pair of old cow-hide boots ; his hat was a cross 
 between a stove pipe and a derby ; his hair was red, 
 very long and sprinkled with grey ; his eyebrows 
 were shaggy, nearly meeting over the nose and hang- 
 ing down over a pair of faded blue eyes. So wrinkled 
 was his skin that you would think his face was a 
 frozen laugh ; a little strip of red hair ran down the 
 side of his face in front of his ears and almost met 
 undei his chin ; the space left open in his whiskers, 
 evidently an outlet for the tobacco juice that trickled 
 down from each side of his mouth. As I approached 
 he pulled up his mules and called to me in a rather 
 cracked voice, ' ' Say, Major, or Sergeant, or what 
 ever you are, whar's the field hospital ? " 
 
 "Three miles from here," said I, pointing back- 
 ward. 
 
THE DRUMMER HOV FROM MAINE. 5! 
 
 "What's that firin I hear? Ain't no rebs 'round 
 yere, be thar? " 
 
 "Yes," I replied; "there's a long row of them 
 about half a mile in front of us, and you had better 
 halt right where you are. What's your cargo ? " 
 
 "Wall, I got most anything that is needed by 
 you poor fellows — useful things. I'm sent here by a 
 society called the Northfield First Methodist Ladies' 
 Relief and Sanitary Association. They selected me 
 for my courage to go to the front and distribute this 
 load. But I guess I'll have to go too near that 
 row of rebs if I'd give them out in person. 
 I'll unhitch here and feed my mules. You 
 don't think thar's any danger of them grey-coats 
 disturbing me, do you? I should hate to have all 
 these good things fall into their hands. " 
 
 I inquired what he had, to which he replied with 
 apparent amazement : ' ' Shirts, stockins, bakin' 
 powder, condensed milk, canned apples, peaches, 
 Boston beans, tobacco, hair oil, tooth powder, cathar- 
 tic pills, Jamaiki ginger, and fine tooth combs 
 
 Whoa thar — ■ stop your infernal kickin. Them 
 durned mules are worse than two-year-old heifers." 
 
 The wearied animals had become all tangled up 
 in the harness, and I thought I'd steal some of the 
 eatables for my company while he was freeing and 
 feeding the mules. He gave me a better opportunity 
 however. There was a patch of peanuts or ground- 
 nuts a short distance away. He asked me to mind 
 his mules while he went to see what they were and 
 how they grew. When he left me I got into th? 
 
52 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 wagon and loaded myself down with everything until 
 I could carry no more. Then I conceived an 
 idea, and if he would only remain away long enough 
 I could carry the thing out. I found a small hatchet 
 in the wagon, and with my tin cup began digging a 
 hole near the wagon. I worked like a beaver for 
 awhile, at the same time keeping my eye on the pea- 
 nut patch. The size of the receptacle would be deter- 
 mined by the length of time the old man remained 
 away. Finally I got a hole made about the size of a 
 bushel basket, and thought I'd take no more chances. 
 I scrambled into the wagon and threw out cans of 
 milk, etc., until the hole was completely filled. I 
 had just nicely covered it up when my friend returned 
 and asked: 
 
 ' ' What YOU been dio-orin' for thar — them durned 
 
 oo 
 
 things too? Why, durn them, I'd just as lieve eat raw 
 beans. " 
 
 I looked up in a guilty sort of way and told him, 
 "I was digging for a shell that lit there while he was 
 gone." 
 
 " Ge-whiz ! I guess I'd better get out of this 
 place as quick as I can. I say. Mister, whar's your 
 Comp'ny? " 
 
 "What's alive of them are at the front, suffering 
 from want and hunger, '' I replied in a strong manner, 
 thinking perhaps he would drive nearer and distribute 
 his load. But he was bent on going back. As he 
 climbed to his seat he said, "I'll tell you, Mr. Ser- 
 geant, you kin take a few of these things to the men 
 that are sick in your company." 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROMMAINE. 53 
 
 "They arc all sick," I said quickly, for I was 
 greedy and wanted all I could get. He pulled out a 
 hospital shirt and tied up the neck. Having filled it 
 with condensed milk, tobacco, and other things, he 
 asked me if I could carry it. ' ' Could I ! I could 
 carry all there's in your cart,'' I replied. I found my 
 load was a little heavier than I had expected it to 
 be, but I wouldn't say there was too much, but 
 helped him to hitch up his mules and he started off, 
 after giving me a warm hand-shake. I watched him 
 until he disappeared from view, and then thought I 
 would open up the treasure I had buried and deposit 
 some of the shirtful which he had so kindly given me 
 after I had robbed him. It would liofhten the load 
 and I could return for the balance next day. I had 
 just started to dig, when I looked up and saw him 
 driving back as hard as he could drive, ' ' Say, 
 young fellow, I — I — ;I," in a wild, excited manner, 
 reigning his mules up with a jerk and a "Whoa, 
 thar, " loud enough to be heard in Petersburg, " I — I 
 thought I'd drive back and dig up that darned shell. 
 It'll be a great curiosity. When I get home I can 
 show the folks the dangerous position I was placed 
 in while distributing these things.'' 
 
 I didn't stop to hear any more, but hurried away 
 with my shirtful. I ran hard and fast, and didn't 
 dare to turn and look round. The shells began to 
 whiz pretty thickly just at this time, and I prayed and 
 hoped that the old man would get scared and not dig 
 for that shell, for I wanted the boys to have it. 
 
54 
 
 TttE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 This was on the 
 day fixed for the great 
 mine explosion, every 
 soldier on the entire 
 line was waiting with 
 
 
 % 
 
 ^% 
 
 The Great Mine Explosioti in Front of Petersburg. 
 
 bated breath for 
 the signal or pro- 
 onged rumble of 
 that expected ex- 
 plosion. It did 
 not come, how- 
 ever. The sus- 
 pense was broken 
 by the appear- 
 ance neaWy a half 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 55 
 
 a mile away, of a soldier with something white on 
 his back, that made a good target for the rebel 
 sharpshooters. Down the railroad I came. I readied 
 the first line of earthworks. For a short distance I 
 would keep on top. In this way I kept on, on, first 
 running one breastwork then another, till I reached 
 the front line. On top of this I ran the whole length, 
 heedless and unmindful of the rebel bullets that 
 pelted about me. I almost flew along. The soldiers 
 shouted to me to keep down, but I heeded them not. 
 Finally I reached the place where my regiment was, 
 jumped down as coolly as if I had run no risk, depos- 
 ited my bag, received the congratulations of my com- 
 pany, who examined me all over to see if there were 
 any w^ounds. They found none, however, but on 
 opening the shirt every can of milk had a bullet hole 
 through it, and condensed milk, extract of beef, and 
 tobacco had to be eaten as a soufflee. 
 
 The next day found me at the rear again. I 
 looked for the buried treasure — found it. Evidently 
 the old gent had been frightened away, for about half 
 the dirt had been removed from the top, and the stuff 
 w^as not uncovered. There w^as a desperate fight 
 going on at the right of our line. I was pressed into 
 the service of the stretcher corps, which is usually 
 composed of drummer boys. I did duty at this all 
 the forenoon. The onslaught was terrible, and many 
 poor fellows did I help carry off that field ; some to 
 live for an hour, others to lose a limb that would 
 prove their valor and courage for the balance of 
 their lives. 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM xMAINE. 
 
 This day our regiment was relieved 
 from the front and supposing they were 
 going to City Point to recruit, they 
 came back about a half a mile, halted 
 for orders; I heard of it and con- 
 cluded I would go with them and so 
 hastened to where they were, and soon 
 after my arrival the order came to "'fall in." They did 
 so with a lacrity and bright hopes of much needed rest. 
 I took my drum and place at the head of the regiment 
 and started with them. 
 
 The road to the left led to City Point. Imagine 
 their surprise when nearing it, the order came, " File 
 
 RIGHT, BY COMPANY INTO LINE, DOUBLE QUICK MARCH.'' 
 
 The entire regiment seemed paralyzed for a 
 moment, but only for a moment, the whizzing of the 
 shells and the zip zip of the rebel bullets plainly told 
 them what caused the sudden change. I was 
 dumbfounded, I didn't know what to do. My brother 
 yelled to me to go to the rear quick, but I didn't ; I 
 kept on with them until it seemed to rain bullets, but 
 on, on they went unmindful of the awful storm of 
 leaden messengers of death — on, on and into one of 
 the fiercest charges of the entire war. I saw men 
 fall so thick and fast that there didn't seem as if there 
 was any of my regiment left, and I made up my mind 
 it was too hot for me, so started on the dead run to 
 the rear for a place of safety, and I didn't stop until 
 I was pretty sure I was out of harm's way. 
 
 I came to a place about one mile back where 
 evidently there had been a battery located ; here I 
 
THE DRUMMER B()V FROM MAIXE. 57 
 
 sat down to rest and meditate. I examined myself 
 all over to see if I was hit, found I was unhurt but 
 my drum had received several bullet holes in it. 
 
 Finding- a green spot I stretched myself out and 
 listened to the awful sound of musketry firing which 
 was o-oinof on at the front, around me on all sides was 
 the debris of a deserted camp, empty tin cans, broken 
 bayonets, pieces of guns, fragments of bursted shell, 
 and occasionally a whole one that had failed to 
 explode. I had only sat here a few moments think- 
 ing which was the best way to go when I was joined 
 by another Drummer Boy from a Pennsylvania regi- 
 ment. We sat down and talked over our exploits, 
 and I thought he was the most profane lad I had 
 ever met. Most every other word he uttered was 
 an oath. 
 
 I asked him if he wasn't afraid to talk so. 
 
 * ' What the h — 1 should I be afraid of ? " he 
 asked, at the same time picking up an old tent stake 
 and sticking it into the ground, trying to drive it in 
 with the heel of his boot. Failing in this he reached 
 over and got hold of an unexploded shell and used 
 this on the stake, but it was heavy and unwieldy. 
 
 ' ' I wonder if this was fired by those d — d rebs, " 
 he asked. 
 
 "I guess it was, " I replied, "and you better 
 look out, or it miofht q-q off." 
 
 " Off be d — d, their shells were never worth the 
 powder to blow 'em to h — 1, see the hole in the butt of 
 it, it would make a G — d — d good mawl, wouldn't it?" 
 and looking round at the same time he found an old 
 
58 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 broom. Stripping the brush and wire from the handle 
 he said, ' ' I'll make a mawl of it and drive that d— d 
 rebel stake into the ground with one of their own 
 d — d shells, be d — d if I don't. Inserting the broom 
 handle into the end of the shell he walked over to a 
 stump, and taking the shell in both hands commenced 
 pounding onto the stick against the stump ; ' ' d — d 
 tight fit, " he hollored to me, and the next instant I 
 was knocked down by a terrific explosion. I came to 
 my senses in a minute and hastened to where he had 
 been standing. There the poor fellow lay uncon- 
 scious and completely covered with blood, there was 
 hardly a shred of clothes on him, his hair was all 
 burned and both hands taken completely off, as if 
 done by a surgeon's saw. 
 
 I was excited and horror stricken for a moment. 
 The sight was horrible, but I quickly regained my 
 composure, knowing that something must be done, 
 and done quickly. So taking the snares from my 
 drum I wound them tightly around his wrists to stop 
 the flow of blood, then I hailed an ambulance, and 
 we took him to the held hosoital about a mile to 
 the rear. 
 
 On the way the poor fellow regained conscious- 
 ness, and looking at his mutilated wrists, and then 
 with a quick and bewildered glance at me, ' 'G — d — d 
 tough, ain't it," then the tears started in his eyes, and 
 he broke down and sobbed the rest of the way, ' ' Oh, 
 my God! What will my poor mother say? Oh, what 
 will she do ! " 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 59 
 
 We reached the field hospital, which is only a 
 temporary place for the wounded where the wounds are 
 hurriedly dressed, and then they are sent to regular 
 hospitals, located in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Nor- 
 folk, Portsmouth, etc., where they have all the com- 
 forts possible. 
 
 We laid the little fellow down in one corner of 
 the tent to wait his turn with the surgeon, and when 
 I left him, he cried and begged for me to stay, but I 
 couldn't stand his suffering longer, so I bade him 
 good-bye with tears streaming down my ow^n cheeks. 
 I hurried out, and even after I reached the outside I 
 could hear him cry, "Oh, my God! What will my 
 poor mother say? Oh, what will she do!" 
 
 In the afternoon I was detailed to wait on the 
 amputating tables at the field hospital. 
 
 It was a horrible task at first. My duty was to hold ( 
 the sponge or ' 'cone " of ether to the face of the soldier 
 who was to be operated on, and to stand there and 
 see the surgeons cut and saw legs and arms as if they 
 were cutting up swine or sheep, was an ordeal I never 
 wish to go through again. At intervals, when the 
 pile became large, I was obliged to take a load of 
 legs or arms and place them in a trench near by for 
 burial. I could only stand this one day, and after that 
 I shirked all guard duty. The monotony, the routine 
 of life, in front of Petersburg, was becoming distaste- 
 ful to me. I had stolen everything I could. My 
 district or territory had given out, so the next day I 
 started for the front to bid my brother good-bye. 
 
6o THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 Our regfiment was sometimes relieved and ordered 
 to the rear for rest; so it was on this occasion, they 
 had fallen back and halted in a little ravine. I met 
 my brother, who always expected me to bring him 
 some stolen sweets or goodies of some kind, but un- 
 fortunately this time I came empty-handed. I had 
 failed to find anything to steal. I was hungry myself, 
 but when I looked at him I forgot my own hunger, 
 for such a forlorn appearance as he presented almosi 
 broke my heart, and I determined to find him some- 
 thing to eat at all hazards. So off I started on an 
 independent foraging expedition. I had only gone 
 a short distance when I espied a ' ' pie wagon. " 
 Usually when the paymaster was around there would 
 be ' ' hucksters " or peddlers with all kinds of com- 
 modities following in his wake. This fellow had 
 driven to the front from City Point. They were gen- 
 erally dare-devils, and this one was no exception to 
 the rule. He had driven right up to the front, un- 
 hitched his horse and began selling hot mince pies. 
 He had some kind of a stove and outfit in an old 
 covered wagon where he made the pies quickly and 
 sold them hot for one dollar apiece; the pies were 
 about the size of a saucer. When I reached the wagon 
 there was quite a crowd around him; some were buy- 
 ing and eating them as if they were good, while others 
 stood looking on wistfully watching their comrades 
 who were fortunate enough to have the price. I was 
 one of the unfortunates. I could smell the cooking 
 of the pies long before I reached the wagon, and this 
 only served to increase my already ravenous hunger; 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 6l 
 
 but all I could do was to stand there with my hands 
 in my pockets, smack my lips and imagine what they 
 tasted like — the longer I staid the better they tasted. 
 I believe I would have oriven five hundred dollars for 
 one if I had possessed the money, but I didn't have a 
 cent; our regiment had not been paid. All this time 
 I was thinking of my poor brother, how he would like 
 one of those hot pies, and I began to concoct schemes 
 how to get one. The way I worked the old sanitary 
 man would never do to try on this fellow, for he was 
 
 
 
 I \\ !\\ 
 
 
 a "fakir" by birth, occupation and inclination. The 
 fellow was doing a lively business. " Here you are! 
 Nice hot pies, fresh baked, right from the oven! 
 Walk up lively here. Only one dollar apiece ! There's 
 only a few of them left, and I shan't be here again for 
 a month; walk up with your dollar! Get off that 
 wheel, you young devil!" I had climbed up on the 
 wheel to make obserx^ations and see if I couldn't sneak 
 a pie, but he was watching and detected my motive; 
 so down I got and stood gaping at him, my mouth 
 
62 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 wide open; but my hungry look had no effect on him, 
 he had no sympathy for anything except dollars. 
 Finally I thought my brother might have a dollar, so 
 back to him I ran, told him of the pies, but he had 
 not a cent. The knowledge of the pies added two 
 fold to his hunger. "Gosh!" he said, "ain't there 
 some way? Can't you steal one?" "No," I said, "I 
 have tried that. I would have made his horse run 
 away and upset his wagon, but the darned cuss had 
 unhitched him." 
 
 "Ge!" I exclaimed, "I have it." And off I 
 started. Charley, my brother, owned an old-fashioned 
 silver watch, one of those old "English levers." He 
 thought a great deal of it as a keep-satTve and always 
 gave it to m^e to keep when he was going into action. 
 I had this watch now, and made up my mind I would 
 trade it to the "fakir" and get a lot of pies for us all. 
 Oh! such bright anticipations of hot mince pies. I 
 could almost see them floating in the air as big as cart 
 wheels, and fearing they would all be sold before I 
 could reach the wagon, I ran as hard as I could. The 
 crowd had thinned out and so had the pies. "How 
 many have you got left?" 1 eagerly asked "Oh, 
 plenty," he replied; "how many do you want?'' 
 "Well," Isaid, nearly ort of breath, "I haven't any 
 money, but I want all you have, and I'li trade you 
 a nice watch for them.'' 
 
 "Say, cully! what yer givdn' me? I don't want 
 no watch. Let's see it." 
 
 I quickly passed it up to him, and stood work- 
 ing my fingers and feet impatiently and revolving in 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 63 
 
 my mind how many pies he would give me and how 
 I would manage to carry them back, when he broke 
 out into a loud, contemptuous laugh, and passed the 
 watch back. 
 
 "Say, young fellow, that aint no good. I'd 
 rather have a blacking box than that thing." 
 
 "It's silver," I replied. 
 
 "That don't make no difference. I'll give you 
 one pie for the thing if you want it, see! " 
 
 I turned the watch over and over in my hand, 
 my feelings hurt and my stomach disappointed. Then 
 I thought of my brother, forgot that it was his high- 
 priced time-piece, and quickly said: 
 
 " Give me the pie and take the watch." 
 
 He did so, and away I started on the dead run, 
 I could hardly resist the temptation of biting the pie; 
 but just before I reached the regiment, and in full 
 sight of my brother, I stumbled and fell, smashing the 
 pie into the dirt and mud. I picked myself up, looked 
 at the crushed pie, and the tears started in my eyes; 
 but only for a moment. I brushed them away, gathered 
 up the pieces and hurried to my brother. We rubbed 
 the mud from the pieces the best we could, and devoured 
 them with a hearty relish. After the pie vvas gone, I re- 
 o^retted the barofain that I had made. Pie and watch 
 both gone. Remorse took possession of me. I felt 
 guilty; I was conscience-stricken. I was unsatisfied; 
 no more time, no more pie. 
 
 "Gosh, that pie was good, wasn't it, 'Pod'?'' 
 This was a nickname my brother was pleased to call 
 me by. 
 
64 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 "Jinks, I wish you had brought more. Why 
 didn't you try and get two? " 
 
 "Well,'' I said, faltering, "you — you see, I — I 
 didn't have time enough." 
 
 "Well, how did you get it, anyway? " 
 
 ' 'Oh ! I eot it on tick. '' And then I walked over to 
 a stump, thinking I would get away from his ques- 
 tions and all the time revolving in my mind whether I 
 should tell him the truth, or say I had lost it. I felt 
 ashamed of myself and thought what a darned fool I 
 was. I concluded I wasn't a bit smart — the idea of 
 giving a watch for a pie ! Finally, Charley came over 
 to me. 
 
 "What time is it. Pod?" 
 
 "I — I don't know!'' 
 
 "Why, ain't the the watch going? " 
 
 "Yes-s. No, it's gone." 
 
 "Gone! What do you mean?" And then di- 
 vining the truth, he exclaimed : ' ' Gor-ram it, did 
 you sell the watch for that pie ? " 
 
 "Yes, Charley, I did, but I couldn't help it; I 
 knew you w^anted the pie so bad. " 
 
 " Gor-rammed little fool; didn't you know better 
 than that?" 
 
 Then I saw the great big" tears come into his 
 eyes, and I couldn't stand it. I patted him on the 
 back and said: "Nevermind, Charley. I'll go and 
 get the watch back if I have to kill the pie man. " So 
 off I started on the dead run, caught the fellow just 
 as he was ready to go. I asked him if I could ride 
 to the rear with him. He answered, "Yes, and you 
 
7 HE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 65 
 
 can show me how to get into that turnip watch. " So I 
 climbed on to the seat beside him and we started. I 
 took the watch apart, showed him how it was wound, 
 set and regulated it, and was about to hand it back to 
 him, when a shell burst a short way from us, which 
 frightened his horse so that he cramped the wagon 
 and upset it, and in the confusion I got lost with the 
 watch. On the next day I gave it to my brother and 
 told him how I had obtained it. He laughed 
 at me, and said he "guess Pd better keep it my- 
 self," and so put it in his pocket. That night the 
 regiment went into action, and my brother was slightly 
 wounded several times. One shot would have proved 
 fatal, but the watch received the bullet and the wound 
 proved fatal only to the watch ; it was smashed all to 
 pieces. But my brother prizes the pieces now more 
 than he ever did the whole watch. 
 
 The next day my regiment was ordered to the 
 front again. I made up my mind I would not go with 
 them. I concluded I needed rest in order to recu- 
 perate, so when the regiment started I bade my 
 brother good-bye, gave him a parting kiss and God's 
 blessings, so off I started. 
 
 About a half a mile from my regiment I came to 
 one of those Virginia fences, got up on top of it, 
 3.nd sat thinking, and while sitting there the 
 shells began to fly pretty thick. I thought I had 
 better be moving, jumped down, and as I did so a 
 shell struck one of the rails of the fence. A piece 
 of the rail struck me and was harder than I was, for 
 when I came to my senses I found I was in the 
 
66 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 hospital. I didn't think I was hurt very badly, but 
 when I tried to get up, found I couldn't. From there 
 they moved me to "Balfour Hospital'' at Portsmouth, 
 Virginia. I never will forget the shame and mortifi- 
 cation I felt at the sight I must have presented when 
 the boat that conveyed us to Portsmouth arrived. 
 
 An old negro came to my bunk and took me 
 on his back, and with a boot in each hand dang- 
 ling over his shoulder he carried me pickaback 
 through the streets to the hospital, a large, fine 
 building, formerly the "Balfour Hotel," and con- 
 verted into a hospital after Portsmouth was cap- 
 tured. They took me up stairs into what was for- 
 merly the dining-room but now filled with over two 
 hundred little iron beds, and each bed occupied by a 
 wounded soldier. Everything in and about the 
 place was as neat as wax. They carried me to a 
 vacant bed near the center of the room, and I noticed 
 the next bed to mine had several tin dishes hangfinof 
 over it, suspended from the ceiling. These were 
 filled with water, and from a small hole punctured in 
 the bottom the water would slowly but constantly drip 
 upon some poor fellow's wound to keep it moist. 
 I had just sat down on the side of my bed, when I 
 was startled by the sound of a familiar voice. 
 "Hello, cully! What you been doin', playing with 
 one of those d — d shells, too ? " 
 
 No, I replied, the shells were playing with 
 me. Then I recognized the occupant of the next 
 bed as my drummer boy acquaintance who had his 
 hands blown off a week ago. What a strange thing 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY EROM MAINE. 67 
 
 that we shculd be brought together side by side 
 again, both wounded with a shell and nearly on the 
 same spot. 
 
 He had changed wonderfully; his little white 
 pinched face told too plainly the suffering he had 
 endured. I asked him how he was p-ettinpf aloncr. 
 
 ' ' Oh I'm getting along pretty d — d fast. I guess 
 I'll croak in a few days.' 
 
 ' ' Oh you musn't talk that way, you'll be all right 
 in a little while." 
 
 Oh, no, cully, I know better. I'm a goner; I 
 know it. I don't want to live, anyhow. What in 
 h — 1 is the good of a man without hands?" Then 
 turning his bandaged head towards me, his eyes fill- 
 ing with tears. ' ' I aint afraid to die, cul. , but I would 
 like to see my old mother first. Do you think I will ? " 
 
 Oh, yes, I said, no doubt of it ; at the same 
 time I felt that his days were numbered, but I wanted 
 to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He was 
 so much worse off than I, that I forgot my own injuries 
 and was eager to assist him all I could. After a few 
 minutes silence — 
 
 •'Say, cully, reach under my pillow and find a 
 little book there; it's a little Testament that my dear 
 old mother gave me ; read a little for me, will you 
 please? You'll find a place mother marked for me, 
 read that, please." 
 
 I turned the leaves over till I found a little white 
 ribbon pinned to a leaf, markinof the verse bcoinnino-, 
 "Suffer little children to come unto me." I started 
 to read for him, but the tears filled my eyes. I had 
 
68 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 to Stop, and as I did so, I noticed he seemed very 
 quiet. I glanced at him, and the open, staring eyes 
 and the rigid drawn features told me too plainly that 
 the little fellow was out of his sufferings : — he was dead ! 
 
 "Mother" was the countersign on his hps so thin, 
 And the sentry in heaven must let him in. 
 
 I remained here three weeks, finally got up and 
 around and began to think I had enough of soldier 
 life. I had everything I wished for ; some ladies in 
 the town — God bless them, I never will forget them — 
 visited the hospital occasionally, and they always took 
 pains to bring me flowers or goodies of some kind. 
 (Pardon me, but somehow I was always a favorite 
 with ladies.) Well, after remaining there three or 
 four weeks I concluded I didn't want to go to the 
 front, so I sat down and wrote a personal letter to 
 Secretary Stanton, told him who, how, and what I was, 
 and asked him to advise me what to do ; if I should 
 go to the front or home. Soon after, a special order 
 came back from him to have me transferred to the 
 "2nd Battalion Veteran Reserve Corps." 
 
 Let me here state to those who do not under- 
 stand ; all soldiers who were sick, or wounded, unfit 
 for field service were transferred to the Veteran 
 Reserve Corps, for the purpose of doing light guard 
 duty in camp, or at headquarters ; they were divided 
 into two battalions, ist and 2nd. The ist battalion 
 was supposed to be able to carry a musket for duty, 
 while the 2nd battalion was composed of one-armed 
 men or totally disabled soldiers, and were supplied 
 
THE DRUMMER BOV FROM MAINE. 6g 
 
 with a small sword; and thus I was condemned by 
 special order; however I liked it. I had an easy time, 
 nothing- to do, and others to help me. 
 
 I continued here for about two months, until the 
 hospital was ordered to be removed to Old Point 
 Comfort. I had become a great favorite of Lieutenant 
 Russell, the officer in charge of the hospital, and a 
 nice man he was. When the order came to move, 
 the fixtures, furniture, in fact everything in and about 
 the building was ordered to be sold. I was detailed 
 by Lieutenant Russell to remain behind and superin- 
 tend the sale of the stuff, keep accounts, make a re- 
 port when all w^as sold, and turn over the proceeds. 
 That detained me there two weeks longer. I sold the 
 beds, dishes, tables, everything. There remained 
 about thirty tons of coal in the yard to be disposed 
 of. I sold it in any quantity to poor people ; took any 
 price for it I could get, the same as everything else. 
 Finally, everything was sold off, and I was ready to 
 depart the next day for Old Point Comfort. In the 
 evening, the two men I had with me and myself, used to 
 get our pipes and sit in front of the office and smoke. 
 We were sitting there talking about the sale, when it 
 occurred to me that I had overlooked the ' ' dead- 
 house." We went back to it and found seven coffins. 
 What was to be done ; they must be sold, as they 
 must be accounted for, and w^e were going to depart 
 early in the morning. The street was crowded at 
 that time in the evening, so I took the coffins and 
 stood them up on the sidewalk, and everyone that 
 passed by, I would ask him if he wanted to buy a 
 
70 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 coffin. Finally, I struck a man who offered me seven 
 dollars for the lot, and I took it quick. I learned 
 afterward he was an undertaker. 
 
 The next day I landed and reported to head- 
 quarters at Fortress Monroe. A day or two after, 
 Lieutenant Russell sent for me; he wanted a foreman 
 in the Government Printing Office. I was down for 
 occupation on the pay-roll as a printer. He asked 
 me if I understood the business. I said yes, I had 
 some knowledge of it, so I was detailed with an extra 
 eight dollars per month. I took charge of the office 
 at once. The first day I had orders to print 
 fifty thousand official envelopes. The press-boy 
 brought me the proof, I looked it over, and marked it 
 correct; they were printed and sent to headquarters. 
 
 A few days after Lieutenant Russell sent for me 
 to report at his office. I didn't know what was up. 
 Thought perhaps I was going to be sent to Washing- 
 ton to take charge of the Government Printing Office 
 there. As I went in, the lieutenant turned to me 
 with a quizzical smile on his face: 
 
 "Young man, you told me you were a printer?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Did you ' O. K.' this job? " passing one of the 
 envelopes he held in his hand. 
 
 "Yes sir," I answered. 
 
 ' ' Umph ! Is it correct ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "It is, eh?" 
 
 "Yes-s, sir." ^ 
 
 ' ' Umph .' how do you spell business ? " 
 
„„ ^ ,1 ?ra!r,,^'il. -^^^.Hjf )l[!^,'liiliair,ih,i' 
 
 
 liilili; 
 
 !l! 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 7 1 
 
 " B-Li-i-s-n-e-ss, " said I. 
 
 " You do, eh ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 ' ' Well, " said he in an imperative manner, ' ' our 
 government sees fit to differ with you. You will go 
 to your office and print fifty thousand more, but see 
 that you spell business right, and bring me the proof. 
 The lot you have printed we will send to Washington, 
 and recommend that they be made into a paper 
 mache statue of yourself, and label it ' Buisness ' or 
 the only government printer," 
 
 I was a little chagrined at the mistake, but did 
 not take it to heart; but I was soon relieved by a man 
 who was more careful in his spelling. A week or so 
 after leaving the printing office, I was sent to the fort 
 to act as a kind of a companion to the confederate pres- 
 ident, Jefferson Davis. I was instructed to walk and 
 talk with him. I presume I was intended for a sort 
 of guard. Perhaps our government wished to make 
 him feel as if he were not under surveillance, and so 
 placed one whose insignificant appearance would put 
 him at his ease. However, I found it a very agree- 
 able occupation. One of the most pleasant weeks 1 
 ever passed was with Mr. Jefferson Davis. He was 
 a most agreeable man to me. He gave me lots of 
 good advice, and I learned more from conversation 
 with him about national affairs than I ever expected 
 to know ; and if I ever become president I will 
 avail myself of the advice and teaching of that great 
 man. He pointed out the right and wrong paths for 
 young men ; urged me above all things to adhere 
 
72 THE DRUiMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 Strictly to honesty and integrity ; to follow these two 
 principles, and I would succeed in business and 
 become great and respected. I thanked him for 
 his kind advice, and pressed his hand good-bye. 
 "Good-bye, my boy, " said he. "You have been a 
 comfort to me in my loneliness and sorrow. God 
 bless you, my boy, God bless you ! " A great, big 
 something came up in my throat as I turned and left 
 him, and I have regretted all my life that I was not 
 fortunate enough to have the pleasure of meeting him 
 again before he passed away ; for I assure you, in- 
 dulgent readers and comrades, that no matter what 
 he had done, or what mistakes he had made, his 
 memory will always find a warm spot in the heart of 
 that little Drummer Boy from Maine. 
 
 One day, soon after this I sauntered down to 
 the steamboat landing and was leisurly beguiling 
 my time with a very large cigar. I noticed some 
 comotion in the harbor but paid more attention to the 
 cigar than anything else. Finally a large ocean 
 steamer came in sight, rounded up near the wharf 
 and let go her anchor. Very soon a "cutter" was 
 lowered manned with sailors and pulled with steady 
 stroke toward the wharf. While watching and 
 wondering what they were going to do with the 
 soldiers which I saw the vessel was loaded with, 
 the ' ' gig " or " cutter " neared the wharf, then I 
 noticed particularly the young officer who sat in the 
 stern, he was very dictatorial and pompous in his 
 orders to the sailors, so much so that I said to myself, 
 
THE DRUMMER HOY FROM MAINE. 73 
 
 that fellow is putting on lots of airs ; he thinks he's 
 some pumpkins, I wish he'd fall overboard. 
 
 They finally reached the foot of the stairs, which 
 led to the wharf. The young officer espied me and 
 standing up in the boat shading his eyes with his hand 
 seemed carefully contemplating me. I wondered if 
 it could be possible that he had defined my wish and 
 vvould have me arrested when he landed ; perhaps it 
 was the ciofar that* attracted his attention. It was 
 against orders to smoke on the wharf, and such a big 
 cigar in a boy's jnouth looked very much out of place, 
 but I wasn't going to give it up, and puffed more 
 vigorously than ever. Just then the " cutter" touched 
 the stairs that led up to the wharf with a bump, and 
 the young officer with his handsome uniform turned a 
 back-summersault overboard. It tickled me to death; 
 I sat down and lauorhed to see him flounderinor to 
 reach the stairs. I clapped my hands and cried, 
 "Good, good!'' He finally reached the stairs, 
 clambered up onto them, but they being very slippery 
 from the slime left by the ebbing tide, he lost his 
 footing, his heels went into the air, and down again 
 headfirst he went into the ocean. I think he went 
 clear to the bottom, for when he came up he was 
 covered over with sea ofrass and mud. I lauo^hed 
 harder than before ; .everybody laughed, even the 
 sailors, they couldn't help it, and when they fished 
 him out he was a sight! The starch was out of his 
 clothes, but not his pomposity. He roundly blamed 
 the poor sailors. I sang out: " It wasn't their fault; 
 what are you blaming them for? " He looked at 
 
74 THE J3RUMMER BOY FROM MAINS. 
 
 me and shook his first. "Well, it wasn't!" and I 
 thought to myself if I were they I would push him 
 in again. I then made up my mind I had better run, 
 but I was so convulsed with laughter that I couldn't 
 move. Huriedly but cautiously climbing the slippery 
 stairs, he made his way straight for me. I was still 
 laughing, so hearty that my eyes were dimmed with 
 tears ! but I still puffed away at the big cigar. He 
 looked at me for a moment, then hitting the cigar 
 knocked it overboard, at the same time exclaiming, 
 ' ' You're too young to smoke. What you laughing 
 at? Why don't you salute me? Discipline! I'll teach 
 you discipline, confound you, " at the same time box- 
 ing my ears. "You " gorramed " little cuss, why 
 don't you salute me?" At the word " Gorrame " I 
 recovered myself, looked up and recognized my 
 brother; he had been promoted since I saw him, had 
 raised a full beard and was in command of a regiment 
 on his way to New Orleans and had run into Fortress 
 Monroe for orders and hoping to find me. I was 
 more than pleased to see him, but wouldn't salute 
 him untill he had soundly cuffed my ears and threat- 
 ened to throw me into the water. 
 
 When he was ready to depart he gave me 3 
 ciofar and told me I could smoke it after he had eone, 
 but I didn't; just as he was getting into the " cutter,'' 
 I gave it to the Boatswain. I don't know, but I 
 believe that cigar was loaded. 
 
 Soon after this episode, peace was declared, and 
 the orders came to discharge all soldiers and send 
 them to their respective homes, and on the 30th day 
 
1 
 
 ii. 
 
 ■ A,' ' X I J 
 
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THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 75 
 
 of June, 1865, the boy who had worked so hard to 
 o-et mustered into the service of Uncle Sam was dis- 
 charo-ed and mustered out. Then I went home to my 
 dear, anxious family. I was not all covered with glory 
 and I did not feel that I had saved my country, but was 
 satisfied that I had not killed anyone ; satisfied that I 
 had furnished some litde comfort and good cheer to 
 my comrades during their hardships, and above all 
 that I had earned the glorious distinction of being 
 entided to wear one of those little bronze buttons made 
 from captured cannons and symbolic of the G. A. R. 
 Having spoken so often of my brother, some one 
 may ask and wonder what became of him, 
 
 Durino- the war our soldiers would often receive 
 little useful articles, such as stockings, shirts, etc., 
 made by the ladies who formed themselves into 
 societies all over the country and furnished these 
 things for distribution among the soldiers at the front. 
 The young ladies had a great craze at that time of 
 marking their names or initials upon whatever 
 they made. One day my brother received a pair 
 of hand-knit stockings with a litde tag sewed on each 
 of them, and written on the tags the letters L. A. 
 D., Islesboro, Maine. They were so acceptable at the 
 time that he declared that if he lived to get out of 
 the army, he would be " gorramed " if he didn't find 
 the girl that built those stockings, and kiss her for them. 
 He began writing to Islesboro, making inquiries, 
 and received several letters signed "Tab." He 
 was determined not to give it up, however, and 
 when mustered out, the first thing he did, was 
 
70 THE DRUMMER BOY FROM MAINE. 
 
 to go to Islesboro, Maine, to find "Tab." He found 
 her, she was a schoolma'm, and soon after married 
 her, and they are now Hving way out in Port 
 Angeles in the State of Washington happy as bugs 
 in a rug, and every meal time you can find several 
 little ' ' Tabs " around the table, some large enough 
 to tell the story of how Pa found Ma, and a great 
 desire to try the same thing themselves. 
 
 The unhappy war was over. The soldier boy 
 returned. I arrived home at the little farm, found a 
 royal, loving welcome from my father and brothers, 
 and more than any other, my little step-sister, who 
 never got tired of stories of my experience. She 
 would sit for hours, begging me to tell her more. 
 She was always w ith me wherever I would go. She 
 was full of admiration for me. I was a hero in her 
 eyes ; I could not dispel her fancy, and I didn't try, 
 for she seemed the sunshine of my life. She plodded 
 with me through all my ups and downs ; through the 
 snow and ice of winter, making summer for me the 
 year round, and she is now my little wife. 
 
 I must stop here, or I may go too far into a 
 history of my life, which I did not intend. I know 
 it would be uninteresting, but will simply add that 
 myself and wife adopted the stage as a profession, 
 and still follow it. I have just completed a play 
 entitled, ' ' The Volunteer " which I shall soon submit 
 for public approval. 
 
THE DRUMMER BOY FRCiM MAINE. 
 
 11 
 
 My recollections are finished — for they are but 
 recollections of a time that "tried men's souls. " In 
 looking, back o'er the path of life there is a melancholy 
 pleasure, to me, at least, in contemplating the shat- 
 tered shards of many an air built castle, — inhaling the 
 perfumes of flowers long since faded and dead. If 
 these reflections have served to beguile one moment of 
 "ennui" for an idle reader — if they have recalled one 
 incident of "derring doe" to a whilesome comrade, 
 I am satisfied that my purpose is accomplished. 
 
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