I well remember the solemn, haunting melody of “Taps” at the conclusion of my father, Captain Artemus E. Ward’s graveside service at the Fort Rosecrans Military Cemetery in Point Loma (San Diego), where he is now buried.  He served in the United States Army during World War Two in North Africa, France, and Germany.  The American flag that was draped over his casket was reverently folded and presented to my mother “on behalf of a grateful nation.”  It is now one of my most prized possessions. 

Even now, as I hear the bugle in my mind, I cannot resist tears.  Taps is heard every Memorial Day to commemorate the service of those who have fallen in battle to win and protect America’s freedom.  It also marks the end of the day at American military installations throughout the world.  

“Taps” in its present form was composed in July, 1862 by Union Army Brigadier General Daniel Butterfield, a Medal of Honor recipient during the American Civil War.  He commanded the 3rd Brigade of the First Division in the Fifth Army Corps of the Army of the Potomac.  His bugler, Oliver Wilcox Norton of East Springfield, Pennsylvania, was the first to sound the new call at the end of each day.  

Soon after Captain John Francis Tidball, a West Point graduate, began the custom of playing “Taps” at military funerals.  In July, 1862 at Harrison’s Landing in Virginia, a corporal of Captain Tidball’s Battery A, 2nd U. S. Artillery died.  He was, Tidball later recalled, “a most excellent man.”  Tidball wished to bury him with full military honors but was refused permission to fire three volleys over the grave, which would have betrayed his battery’s position to the Confederates.

“The thought suggested itself to me to sound ‘Taps’ instead, which I did.  The idea was taken up by others, until in a short time it was adopted by the entire army and is now looked upon as the most appropriate and touching part of a military funeral.”  

The forlorn melody was inevitably heard across the deadly fields by the Confederate forces.  Knowing instinctively its meaning, they too adopted it.  It was played at the funeral of Confederate General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson in May, 1863.   

Horace Lorenzo Trim later added five stanzas of words to accompany the music. Three are shown here.

Day is done, gone the sun,
 From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
 All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Thanks and praise, for our days,
 ‘Neath the sun, ‘neath the stars, neath the sky;
 As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

While the light, fades from sight,
 And the stars, gleaming rays, softly send,
 To thy hands, we our souls, Lord commend. 

There is an apocryphal story of a Union Army Captain named Robert Ellicombe, who also served with the Army of the Potomac near Harrison’s Landing in Virginia in 1862.  During the night he heard the moans of a soldier in the field between the Union and Confederate lines.  Taking pity on the man, not knowing if he were blue or gray, he crawled out on the field to bring him to safety and medical attention.

When he got the man back to the Union lines, he made three discoveries.  He was a Confederate.  He was now dead.  He was his son.  He had been studying music in the south when the war began and decided to enlist in the Confederate army.

When morning came Captain Ellicombe asked permission for his son to be given a burial with full military honors, despite the fact that he was a Confederate.  His request was granted.  He asked for an army band to play a funeral dirge for his son.  That request was denied.

But out of respect for him and the situation, he was told that he would be given a single musician.  He chose a bugler to play the melody we now know as “Taps.”