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Did Soldiers Actually Sing?
- Thread starter MikeyB
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- Apr 18, 2019
- Location
- Upstate New York
From what I've read, group singing was common everywhere in the days before radio. People enjoyed music then as much as they do today and without recordings they had to make music to hear it. Many people played an instrument well enough to join a group and most people can carry a tune well enough to sing alone or in harmony with others. People often played and/or sang together after dinner or at community gatherings. I would think soldiers were no different from other folks - they played and sang to pass the time and to enjoy music.
Some time ago I was at the home of someone who was showing off an antique record player. One of the records (really, a cylinder) was a Civil War song that began "Just before the battle, Mother".
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It was not uncommon for opponents to sing across a river to/at each other. Most times joining in gleefully.
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- Jul 28, 2015
- Location
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Bands battled on eve of Stones River clash
As published in the Murfreesboro Post, Mike West, Managing Editor Writer, December 26, 2006
Union regimental band. (Library of Congress)
"One of the most unique moments of the Civil War occurred on the eve of the Battle of Stones River. Let us set the scene. Both the Federal Army of the Cumberland and the Confederate Army of Tennessee had settled in for the night. A no-man's land of only 700 yards separated the 83,000 combatants on Dec. 30, 1862. At some points, the lines were within 300 yards of each other. It was a typical Middle Tennessee winter – cold, damp and wet. The day of the 30th had been sunny, but cold. "Every soldier on that field knew when the sun went down on the 30th that on the following day he would be engaged in a struggle unto death, and the air was full of tokens that one of the most desperate of battles was to be fought," said Brig. Gen. Henry M. Cist, Army of the Cumberland. Much of that day had been spent on the final alignment of the armies with some skirmishing and artillery fire. The area's unique terrain proved both a blessing and a problem.
Slightly undulating farm fields were fringed by cedar brakes and limestone outcroppings. The dense cedar forest could mask troop movements' "but were almost impervious to artillery," Cist wrote. While the rock could provide some protection for infantrymen, it would soon prove an impediment to troop movement. As dread deepened, the various military bands attached to both armies tried to lift the oppressive mood by playing some of their favorite compositions. A musical battle between the bands soon ensued with Union and Confederate bands trying to drown out the other side. The Confederate's "Bonny Blue Flag" was answered by "Hail, Columbia." "Yankee Doodle" echoed "Dixie". Eventually, lively patriotic tunes faded away as one brass band began the lonesome strains of "Home Sweet Home."
"To thee, I'll return, overburdened with care,
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there.
No more from that cottage again will I roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
Then bands from both sides ended the North-South competition and joined in on the mournful song with thousands of troops stopping to sing the chorus:
"Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, there's no place like home."
It was a restless night with soldiers getting little sleep shivering in their wool blankets on the cold, wet ground. The Confederates were to attack at daylight and adjustments continued through the late hours.
While the commanding officers prepared their plans, the troops were left to their own thoughts triggered by the melancholy music. As for the Union soldiers, they were far from their home sweet home. However, many of the Confederates were practically on their own doorsteps. A number of the men were from Rutherford and Cannon as well as a number of other Middle Tennessee communities.
The temptation for them to slip home for a visit must have been nearly overpowering. Consider the men of Col. Joseph Palmer's 18th Tennessee Infantry. Taken prisoners at Fort Donelson, the men had reformed into a fighting unit just in time to defend their hometown from Northern aggressors. Palmer, a former Whig, had served as mayor of Murfreesboro. "Home, sweet, home" had a far more intense meaning for Palmer and his men and their responsibility to protect both home and their families.
While military bands were more of a Union phenomenon, there were Confederate bands including those at Stones River. Nighttime concerts were a way of breaking the tension while subtly reminding soldiers of their commitment. Brass bands were a popular form of mass entertainment during the 19th Century. Small towns across America had band rostrums or pavilions and their own community brass ensembles. This love of military-style marching bands continues to this day at American high schools and colleges. When volunteer regiments and brigades were formed, in many instances, a band was included. Band recruiting was so successful that, by the end of 1861, the Union had 618 bands and more than 28,000 musicians. The duties of bandsmen varied during the Civil War. They played for concerts, parades, funerals, executions and for troops marching into battle. General Sheridan, who was at Murfreesboro for the battle of the bands, was a great believer in the magic of music. "Music has done its share, and more than its share, in winning this war," he said. Later in the war, Sheridan would mass his band on the battle line with the order to "play the gayest tunes in their books …. Play them loud and keep on playing them, and never mind if a bullet goes through a trombone, or even a trombonist, now and then."
Gen. Horace Porter in Virginia "encountered one of Sheridan's bands, under heavy fire, playing Nellie Bly as cheerily as if it were furnishing music for a country picnic." When not performing their musical duties, bandsmen generally helped the Union medical corps by gathering wood, transporting patients and by helping set up field hospitals.
President Abraham Lincoln was another fan of military music. "Hail, Columbia" was played when he appeared in public. That particular song was written for George Washington's inauguration. But he especially loved lively songs like "Dixie." "I have always thought 'Dixie' one of the best tunes I have ever heard. Our adversaries over the way attempted to appropriate it, but I insisted yesterday that we fairly captured it. I presented the question to the Attorney General, and he gave it as his legal opinion that it is our lawful prize," Lincoln said in 1865. But just like many of his soldiers, Lincoln was deeply moved by "Home, Sweet, Home." Italian opera star Adelina Patti was invited to the White House in 1862 to perform for the Lincolns who were still mourning the death of their 12-year-old son, Willie, from typhoid fever. Patti, who along with Jenny Lind was one of the most popular sopranos in the world, performed her usual repertoire, ending with one of the saddest songs of the day, "The Last Rose of Summer." Concluding that number, she saw Mrs. Lincoln in tears and the president covering his face with his hands. When she offered to perform a cheerful song, Lincoln requested "Home, Sweet, Home," as the only song that could give them any solace from their grief.
"Home, Sweet, Home" had such an impact on homesick troops that many Union commanders banned it. Despite the popularity of military bands, a cost-conscious Congress didn't want to bear the cost of funding a band for all the regiments of the Union army and ordered an inquiry. Secretary of War Simon Cameron reported the average cost of maintaining artillery or cavalry band was $9,161.30 and the cost of maintaining the larger infantry band was $13,139.40. It was also reported 26 of 30 Regular Army regiments and 213 of 465 volunteer regiments had bands. To that point, the War Department had spent $4 million on bands with 618 bands in service, Cameron said.
Congress voted to eliminate the bands of volunteer regiments and to muster out those musicians within 30 days. While it didn't eliminate the bands in the regular army, it did act to replace the regimental bands with brigade bands (one for every four regiments.)
But whether they sounded like the braying of jackasses, as one Confederate said, or soothed the pain of wounded soldiers, military bands would remain a fixture until this day."
As published in the Murfreesboro Post, Mike West, Managing Editor Writer, December 26, 2006
Union regimental band. (Library of Congress)
"One of the most unique moments of the Civil War occurred on the eve of the Battle of Stones River. Let us set the scene. Both the Federal Army of the Cumberland and the Confederate Army of Tennessee had settled in for the night. A no-man's land of only 700 yards separated the 83,000 combatants on Dec. 30, 1862. At some points, the lines were within 300 yards of each other. It was a typical Middle Tennessee winter – cold, damp and wet. The day of the 30th had been sunny, but cold. "Every soldier on that field knew when the sun went down on the 30th that on the following day he would be engaged in a struggle unto death, and the air was full of tokens that one of the most desperate of battles was to be fought," said Brig. Gen. Henry M. Cist, Army of the Cumberland. Much of that day had been spent on the final alignment of the armies with some skirmishing and artillery fire. The area's unique terrain proved both a blessing and a problem.
Slightly undulating farm fields were fringed by cedar brakes and limestone outcroppings. The dense cedar forest could mask troop movements' "but were almost impervious to artillery," Cist wrote. While the rock could provide some protection for infantrymen, it would soon prove an impediment to troop movement. As dread deepened, the various military bands attached to both armies tried to lift the oppressive mood by playing some of their favorite compositions. A musical battle between the bands soon ensued with Union and Confederate bands trying to drown out the other side. The Confederate's "Bonny Blue Flag" was answered by "Hail, Columbia." "Yankee Doodle" echoed "Dixie". Eventually, lively patriotic tunes faded away as one brass band began the lonesome strains of "Home Sweet Home."
"To thee, I'll return, overburdened with care,
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there.
No more from that cottage again will I roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
Then bands from both sides ended the North-South competition and joined in on the mournful song with thousands of troops stopping to sing the chorus:
"Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, there's no place like home."
It was a restless night with soldiers getting little sleep shivering in their wool blankets on the cold, wet ground. The Confederates were to attack at daylight and adjustments continued through the late hours.
While the commanding officers prepared their plans, the troops were left to their own thoughts triggered by the melancholy music. As for the Union soldiers, they were far from their home sweet home. However, many of the Confederates were practically on their own doorsteps. A number of the men were from Rutherford and Cannon as well as a number of other Middle Tennessee communities.
The temptation for them to slip home for a visit must have been nearly overpowering. Consider the men of Col. Joseph Palmer's 18th Tennessee Infantry. Taken prisoners at Fort Donelson, the men had reformed into a fighting unit just in time to defend their hometown from Northern aggressors. Palmer, a former Whig, had served as mayor of Murfreesboro. "Home, sweet, home" had a far more intense meaning for Palmer and his men and their responsibility to protect both home and their families.
While military bands were more of a Union phenomenon, there were Confederate bands including those at Stones River. Nighttime concerts were a way of breaking the tension while subtly reminding soldiers of their commitment. Brass bands were a popular form of mass entertainment during the 19th Century. Small towns across America had band rostrums or pavilions and their own community brass ensembles. This love of military-style marching bands continues to this day at American high schools and colleges. When volunteer regiments and brigades were formed, in many instances, a band was included. Band recruiting was so successful that, by the end of 1861, the Union had 618 bands and more than 28,000 musicians. The duties of bandsmen varied during the Civil War. They played for concerts, parades, funerals, executions and for troops marching into battle. General Sheridan, who was at Murfreesboro for the battle of the bands, was a great believer in the magic of music. "Music has done its share, and more than its share, in winning this war," he said. Later in the war, Sheridan would mass his band on the battle line with the order to "play the gayest tunes in their books …. Play them loud and keep on playing them, and never mind if a bullet goes through a trombone, or even a trombonist, now and then."
Gen. Horace Porter in Virginia "encountered one of Sheridan's bands, under heavy fire, playing Nellie Bly as cheerily as if it were furnishing music for a country picnic." When not performing their musical duties, bandsmen generally helped the Union medical corps by gathering wood, transporting patients and by helping set up field hospitals.
President Abraham Lincoln was another fan of military music. "Hail, Columbia" was played when he appeared in public. That particular song was written for George Washington's inauguration. But he especially loved lively songs like "Dixie." "I have always thought 'Dixie' one of the best tunes I have ever heard. Our adversaries over the way attempted to appropriate it, but I insisted yesterday that we fairly captured it. I presented the question to the Attorney General, and he gave it as his legal opinion that it is our lawful prize," Lincoln said in 1865. But just like many of his soldiers, Lincoln was deeply moved by "Home, Sweet, Home." Italian opera star Adelina Patti was invited to the White House in 1862 to perform for the Lincolns who were still mourning the death of their 12-year-old son, Willie, from typhoid fever. Patti, who along with Jenny Lind was one of the most popular sopranos in the world, performed her usual repertoire, ending with one of the saddest songs of the day, "The Last Rose of Summer." Concluding that number, she saw Mrs. Lincoln in tears and the president covering his face with his hands. When she offered to perform a cheerful song, Lincoln requested "Home, Sweet, Home," as the only song that could give them any solace from their grief.
"Home, Sweet, Home" had such an impact on homesick troops that many Union commanders banned it. Despite the popularity of military bands, a cost-conscious Congress didn't want to bear the cost of funding a band for all the regiments of the Union army and ordered an inquiry. Secretary of War Simon Cameron reported the average cost of maintaining artillery or cavalry band was $9,161.30 and the cost of maintaining the larger infantry band was $13,139.40. It was also reported 26 of 30 Regular Army regiments and 213 of 465 volunteer regiments had bands. To that point, the War Department had spent $4 million on bands with 618 bands in service, Cameron said.
Congress voted to eliminate the bands of volunteer regiments and to muster out those musicians within 30 days. While it didn't eliminate the bands in the regular army, it did act to replace the regimental bands with brigade bands (one for every four regiments.)
But whether they sounded like the braying of jackasses, as one Confederate said, or soothed the pain of wounded soldiers, military bands would remain a fixture until this day."
- Joined
- Aug 8, 2011
- Location
- Gettysburg area
A few more songs from the war years are in this book, "The Good Old Songs We Used to Sing - '61 to '65," by OH Oldroyd, published in 1902 and provided here by Project Gutenberg.
If you'd like to hear them, links to recordings are provided.
If you'd like to hear them, links to recordings are provided.
Cdoug96
Corporal
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- Dec 22, 2016
- Location
- Michigan, United States
I heard that soldiers would sing marching into battle, and even IN battle, but I don't know how true this is. Can someone verify this?
I've not heard of any singing during the heat of battle: soldiers would be too busy trying to stay alive. Were I unfortunate enough to find my self in the midst of battle, I might hum a bit--but more like a dying cat purrs than any musical outpouring. And soldiers might rather "chant": "please, not me!". But, outside of Lord of the Rings, and perhaps the vikings, I don't know.
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This reminds me of a couple of anecdotes about the band of the Third Rhode Island Heavy Artillery, a group that was not very fondly remembered in the regimental history. But then again, as the writer made certain to add, their instruments were "of an inferior quality."
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I've seen mentions of hymn singing in several diaries.
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The documentary "The Gettysburg Story" quotes a soldier's memoir that told of a wounded soldier with a beautiful voice ssinging a hymn during the night after the fighting had ceased. The hymn used in the film, which I believe was the actual hymn referenced in the memoir, was "Come, Ye Disconsolate." (This performance on YouTube is not from the film.)
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Yes, soldiers must have found solace in singing, on the march or in field. Like the lyrics composed by Carl Perkins and recorded by Johnny Cash:
"Singing seems to help a troubled soul."
"Singing seems to help a troubled soul."
nc native
Sergeant Major
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When JEB Stuart was fighting at Chancellorsville, one of his staff recalled him singing "Old Joe Hooker get out of the Wilderness!" over and over so it was audible those who were nearby. Which tune he used to sing this refrain to, I do not know.
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From my great-great-grandfather's diary (Fort Halleck, Kentucky) July 29, 1863: "Teamster F. Smith was over to my quarters this morning and I went over with him to his quarters a half mile out side the fort and took dinner. Had a good sing." My ancestor was Valentine L. Spawr of the 14th Iowa. In an affidavit for his widow's pension application July 22, 1884, a fellow soldier remembered "his being a good singer" and that he "used to sing a great deal for the boys."
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Regarding instruments--also from my ancestor's diary:
July 16, 1863: "It has got quite warm today and the soldiers is mostly laying in their tents some writing some cleaning their guns some reading some few playing on their violins. At least one man that I was unlucky anough to get my tent in rather close proximity to that of his for me to get out of the squeak of that miserable instrument for any lenght [sic] of time. He is a man that belongs to Co[mpany] K. I dont know his name nor do I wish to."
July 17, 1863: "[A]ll of the soldiers out at their several amusements some pitching horse shoes and some one thing and some another and the squeak of that miserable old fiddle is yet free for all to hear wheather they want to or not."
I was so tickled when I read this diary and realized my ancestor was as judgmental as I can be!
July 16, 1863: "It has got quite warm today and the soldiers is mostly laying in their tents some writing some cleaning their guns some reading some few playing on their violins. At least one man that I was unlucky anough to get my tent in rather close proximity to that of his for me to get out of the squeak of that miserable instrument for any lenght [sic] of time. He is a man that belongs to Co[mpany] K. I dont know his name nor do I wish to."
July 17, 1863: "[A]ll of the soldiers out at their several amusements some pitching horse shoes and some one thing and some another and the squeak of that miserable old fiddle is yet free for all to hear wheather they want to or not."
I was so tickled when I read this diary and realized my ancestor was as judgmental as I can be!
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- Feb 23, 2013
- Location
- East Texas
I believe that was likely the tune we usually know as The Old Gray Mare.
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