And The Bands played On -A New Year’s Eve Story

It was cold and cloudy, with scant moonlight. The Union soldiers huddled by small campfires. Just over one hundred yards away, Confederate soldiers also struggled to keep warm. Nearly 100,000 American boys were about to engage in one of the great battles of the Civil War just outside Murfreesboro, Tennessee. It was the evening of December 30, 1862.

 Scattered among the troops on both sides were several small military bands, which were a part of almost all Army regiments during the Civil War. The drum beats and martial music were intended to help drive the common soldiers toward a rendezvous with destruction, pain and, possibly death, that they might otherwise have sought to avoid. The music was usually loud, stirring, gallant, and inspirational; and the drum beats set the cadence for the soldiers’ pace toward battle. The music helped instill pride and motivation that might drive the soldiers to “do their duty” with courage and honor.

 But occasionally, the bands played other types of music; especially during lulls in battle. The night before New Year’s Eve, in the rolling hills of Tennessee, was one of those nights when the bands, from both sides, were the only forces in opposition. Except for armed pickets guarding each sides perimeter, the soldiers had laid down their arms; rifles were stacked, artillery pieces were empty, pistol belts were loosened, and swords were in their scabbards. The noises of war were now silent, at least for the night. The two sides were so close that the men had been able to hear conversations from the enemy camps; and, not long after darkness fell, one could hear music as the musicians from several regimental bands began to play.

 At first it was a cacophony of different tunes and voices singing a variety of songs; but then it became silent again. For a few moments.

 It is lost in history as to which band started the competition, but most accounts give the nod to the Union musicians. One band began to play the popular Northern song, Hail Columbia. Then, as the band finished that song, the Confederate band struck up Dixie and the competition was on. The Union side played and sang, Yankee Doodle Dandy, a song that predated the Revolutionary War and, until the Civil War, was sung by Northerner and Southerner alike; but now acceptable only in the North. Then the Confederate band began to play My old Kentucky Home, a Stephen Foster tune, and a Southern anthem.

 Then, there was a lull in the music. After a few minutes, the Union band began to play a familiar tune. The song was originally part of a short opera, which was never very popular as an entire work; however, this one song had become a sentimental favorite throughout the United States, both North and South. (Some erroneously credit Stephen Foster, a prolific songwriter on the era, as the composer, but he was not). The song was about home! As the Union band sounded out the introduction, the Confederate band instantly recognized the tune and joined in; and, the music began to transcend the differences war can bring, if only for a few minutes. The soldiers, who would again soon be enemies, began to sing the same song, at the same time.

 Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there

Which seek thro’ the world, is ne’er met elsewhere

Home! Home!

Sweet, sweet home!

There’s no place like home

There’s no place like home!

An exile from home splendor dazzles in vain

Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again

The birds singing gaily that came to my call

And gave me the peace of mind dearer than all.

Home, home, sweet, sweet home.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home!

 The boys started to sing the song again and the two bands played it again; however, the second time was a little softer and slower than the first round. Then, even quieter for a third time as the music and the words wafted over the open ground between the two sides. When the song finally ended, all was silent for the rest of the evening. Letters have survived, written by those who participated, and, whether the soldier was Union or Confederate, younger or older, enlisted or officer, they tell similar stories. One wrote, “It was the most lonely I had felt in the year since I left home.”  Another shared, “For a short time, I thought of our house, and you, and the children, warmly, without intrusion of war.” And from a seventeen year old boy to his mother, “I remember my thoughts were of you and my sisters and I longed to be home.”  

 General Braxton Bragg, who led the Confederate troops at Murfreesboro, told his staff to ban the song, fearing it would take the edge off the fighting men. 

 It did not!

 On December 31, 1862, New Year’s Eve, many of the boys who had been singing of home, in a strange mixed chorus, only a few hours before, began to die on that open ground which had separated the two sides.

 The peaceful interlude had ended.