The First Drum

[John Hartwell]

Delvan S. Miller of West Carthage, New York, was just turned 13 years of age when, early in April, 1862, he arrived at Fort Worth, in Alexandria. He was to be a drummer boy with the Morgan Flying Artillery, lately transformed into the 2nd New York Heavy Artillery.

Writing many years later, Delvan S. Miller describes

THE FIRST DRUM.​

It is with feelings of real tenderness that I write of my first drum. It was none of the common sort such as furnished by Uncle Sam, but was the best that money could buy, and was a gift from the officers at Fort Worth in the spring of 1862. A requisition for instruments was a long time in being filled, owing to the vast amount of[Pg 20] red tape in use, so the officers at our fort presented me with a drum.

How well I remember the day when I accompanied Capt. Joslin to Washington, and he, taking me into a large music store on Pennsylvania avenue, ordered the clerk to let me have the best drum in the store.

How anxious I was to get back to our camp in Virginia so I could test it, and how my heart went pit-a-pat, as, alone, I marched with my new drum down the line at dress parade the next day. Several months later my precious drum was put out of action by a piece of a rebel shell at Bull Run and was among the trophies gathered up by the confederates in the stampede that followed.

Its loss I regretted exceedingly, for its equal in tone and other good qualities I never tapped the sticks to again. It was a beauty, too; and was my first drum.

Delvan Miller with his Drum (likely not
the drum in this story, but a later
replacement.
​

Delvan S. Miller told his own story in Drum Taps in Dixie, memories of s drummer-boy (1905); and in A Drum's Story and other Tales (1909)​

 

[John Hartwell]

In 1917, Thomas Ballard, a member of the same company recalled:

Miller was a general favorite in the regiment. Though nothing but a boy, he was a thorough soldier and was ever ready to do his part. He was as valuable as a man on the firing line, and in battle he was placed at the rear with the surgeons, where he helped care for the wounded. One time he and some other boys found a spring and they took the canteens of the men and filled them, making several trips. This action was most highly appreciated by the men as they were suffering greatly from thirst.​

He was one of the best snare drummers in the regiment and could do all the fancy tricks with the drum. He was about average size for a boy of his age and his first uniform was a sight. It was built for a man and had to be cut over to fit him. [Watertown Daily Times, July 17, 1917]​

Drummer Miller himself recalled that first uniform:

The young recruit's first uniform was a bad fit. The coat sleeves and pants were several inches too long, but a camp tailor fixed them and the first day the boy wore the suit he did as every other volunteer before him had done, went and posed for a "tintype" before a background representing various scenes of military life. Some of the specimens of the photographer's art in those days were enough to make a horse laugh.​

13-year-old Delvan Miller in his expertly altered first uniform.​

 

[John Hartwell]

From Drum Taps in Dixie:

Two boys when coming home from the war were talking over what they were going to do. One whom we will call Joe said he was going to have all of the strawberry shortcake he wanted, and then he was going to have mother make some of the good old-fashioned flap-jacks that he liked so well. "I am going to have her make them the full size of the round griddle, and as she bakes them I'm going to spread them with butter and shaved up maple sugar until the pile is a foot high and then I'll sit down and have all the pancakes I want for once. What are you going to do, Bill?"

"Me? I'm going to go to every dance, minstrel show, singing school and revival meeting I can hear of in forty miles, and I'm going home with every pretty girl I get a chance to. And another thing I'm going to do, I'll sit up nights and burn a light until I get an all fired good ready to go to bed. And I'm goin' to hire a fifer and drummer to come and play in front of our house every mornin'."

"Why, Bill, what in thunder you goin' to do that for? I should think that you'd had enough of fifin' and drummin' for awhile."

"Well," says Bill, "I'm goin' to do it, and I'm goin' to have them play the reveille good and strong for fifteen minutes, and then I'm goin' to shove up the chamber window and throw my bootjack at 'em, and yell: 'To h—l with your reveille.'"
​