University of Virginia Library

A Mother's Sacrifice.

The records and desolations of our great war do not
appear alone in the empty sleeves which we see in every
village, nor in the blackened ruins that mark the pathway
of our great armies. The most incurable wounds, and the
losses hardest to be supported, were suffered by the mothers
who gave up darling and only sons to the sacrifice.

What mother can read the following story of the enlistment
and death of "Little Eddie, the drummer boy," without
feeling that neither glory nor public honors can ever
make up her loss or heal her lacerated heart? We give the
story as the soldiers tell it.

"A few days before our regiment received orders to join
General Lyon, on his march to Wilson's Creek, the drummer
of our company was taken sick and conveyed to the
hospital, and on the evening preceding the day that we were
to march, a negro was arrested within the lines of the camp,
and brought before our captain, who asked him `what business
he had within the lines!' He replied, `I know a
drummer that you would like to enlist in your company,
and I have come to tell you of it.' He was immediately
requested to inform the drummer that if he would enlist
for our short term of service, he would be allowed extra
pay; and to do this, he must be on the ground early in the
morning. The negro was then passed beyond the guard.

"On the following morning there appeared before the
captain's quarters, during the beating of the réveille, a good-looking,


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middle-aged woman, dressed in deep mourning,
leading by the hand a sharp, sprightly-looking boy, apparently
about twelve or thirteen years of age. Her story was
soon told. She was from East Tennessee, where her husband
had been killed by the rebels, and all their property
destroyed. She had come to St. Louis in search of her
sister; but not finding her, and being destitute of money,
she thought if she could procure a situation for her boy as
a drummer for the short time that we had to remain in
the service, she could find employment for herself, and perhaps
find her sister by the time we were discharged.

"During the rehearsal of her story the little fellow kept
his eyes intently fixed upon the countenance of the captain,
who was about to express a determination not to take so
small a boy, when he spoke out, `Don't be afraid, captain;
I can drum.' This was spoken with so much confidence,
that the captain immediately observed, with a smile, `Well,
well, sergeant, bring the drum, and order our fifer to come
forward.' In a few moments the drum was produced, and
our fifer, a tall, round-shouldered, good-natured fellow, from
the Dubuque mines, who stood, when erect, something over
six feet in height, soon made his appearance.

"Upon being introduced to his new comrade, he stooped
down, with his hands resting upon his knees, that were
thrown forward into an acute angle, and after peering into
the little fellow's face a moment, he observed, `My little
man, can you drum?' `Yes, sir,' he replied, `I drummed
for Captain Hill, in Tennessee.' Our fifer immediately commenced
straightening himself upward until all the angels in
his person had disappeared, when he placed his fife at his


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mouth, and played the `Flowers of Edinboro" — one of the
most difficult things to follow with the drum that could
have been selected; and nobly did the little fellow follow
him, showing himself to be a master of the drum. When
the music ceased, our captain turned to the mother and
observed, `Madam, I will take your boy. What is his
name?' `Edward Lee,' she replied; then placing her hand
upon the captain's arm, she continued, `Captain, if he is not
killed' — here her maternal feelings overcame her utterance,
and she bent down over her boy and kissed him upon
the forehead. As she arose, she observed, `Captain, you
will bring him back with you — won't you?'

"`Yes, yes,' he replied, `we will be certain to bring him
back with us. We shall be discharged in six weeks.'

"In an hour after, our company led the Iowa first out
of camp, our drum and fife playing `The girl I left behind
me.' Eddie, as we called him, soon became a great favorite
with all the men in the company. When any of the boys
had returned from a horticultural excursion, Eddie's share
of the peaches and melons was the first apportioned out.
During our heavy and fatiguing march from Rolla to Springfield,
it was often amusing to see our long-legged fifer
wading through the mud with our little drummer mounted
upon his back, and always in that position when fording
streams.

"During the fight at Wilson's Creek I was stationed with
a part of our company on the right of Totten's battery, while
the balance of our company, with a part of the Illinois regiment,
was ordered down into a deep ravine upon our
left, in which it was known a portion of the enemy was


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concealed, with whom they were soon engaged. The contest
in the ravine continuing some time, Totten suddenly wheeled
his battery upon the enemy in that quarter, when they soon
retreated to the high ground behind their lines. In less
than twenty minutes after Totten had driven the enemy
from the ravine, the word passed from man to man throughout
the army, `Lyon is killed!' and soon after, hostilities
having ceased upon both sides, the order came for our main
force to fall back upon Springfield, while a part of the Iowa
first and two companies of the Missouri regiment were to
camp upon the ground and cover the retreat next morning.
That night I was detailed for guard duty, my turn of guard
closing with the morning call. When I went out with the
officer as a relief, I found that my post was upon a high
eminence that overlooked the deep ravine in which our men
had engaged the enemy, until Totten's battery came to their
assistance. It was a dreary, lonesome beat. The moon
had gone down in the early part of the night, while the
stars twinkled dimly through a hazy atmosphere, lighting
up imperfectly the surrounding objects. Occasionally I
would place my ear near the ground and listen for the
sound of footsteps; but all was silent, save the far-off howling
of the wolf, that seemed to scent upon the evening air
the banquet that we had been preparing for him. The
hours passed slowly away, when at length the morning light
began to streak along the eastern sky, making surrounding
objects more plainly visible. Presently I heard a drum
beat up the morning call. At first I thought it came from
the camp of the enemy across the creek; but as I listened,
I found that it came up from the deep ravine; for a few

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minutes it was silent, and then, as it became more light I
heard it again. I listened, the sound of the drum was
familiar to me, and I knew that it was

`Our drummer boy from Tennessee,
Beating for help the réveille.'

"I was about to desert my post to go to his assistance,
when I discovered the officer of the guard approaching with
two men. We all listened to the sound, and were satisfied
that it was Eddie's drum. I asked permission to go to his
assistance. The officer hesitated, saying that the orders
were to march in twenty minutes. I promised to be back
in that time, and he consented. I immediately started
down the hill, through the thick undergrowth, and upon
reaching the valley, I followed the sound of the drum, and
soon found him seated upon the ground, his back leaning
against the trunk of a fallen tree, while his drum hung
upon a bush in front of him, reaching nearly to the ground.
As soon as he discovered me he dropped his drumsticks
and exclaimed, `O corporal, I am so glad to see you!
Give me a drink,' reaching out his hand for my canteen,
which was empty. I immediately turned to bring him some
water from the brook that I could hear rippling through
the bushes near by, when, thinking that I was about to
leave him, he commenced crying, saying: `Don't leave me,
corporal — I can't walk.' I was soon back with the water,
when I discovered that both of his feet had been shot away
by a cannon ball. After satisfying his thirst, he looked up
into my face and said, `You don't think I will die, corporal,
do you? This man said I would not — he said the


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surgeon could cure my feet.' I now discovered a man
lying in the grass near him. By his dress I recognized
him as belonging to the enemy. It appeared that he had
been shot through the bowels, and fallen near where Eddie
lay. Knowing that he could not live, and seeing the condition
of the boy, he had crawled to him, taken off his
buckskin suspenders, and corded the little fellow's legs
below the knee, and then laid down and died. While he
was telling me these particulars, I heard the tramp of cavalry
coming down the ravine, and in a moment a scout of
the enemy was upon us, and I was taken prisoner. I requested
the officer to take Eddie up in front of him, and
he did so, carrying him with great tenderness and care.
When we reached the camp of the enemy the little fellow
was dead."