SONGS OF THE CIVIL WAR
by Dennis Kennedy
–Click active titles to move to and from text sections
______________________________________________________________________Introduction
The Battle Cry of Freedom Lorena
The Bonnie Blue Flag Marching Through Georgia
Dixie Richmond is a Hard Road To Travel
Garryowen Rose of Alabama
The Girl I Left Behind Me Weeping, Sad and Lonely
Just Before the Battle, Mother When Johnny Comes Marching
How we boys used to yell at the band for music to cheer us up.... That good old tune we called "Hell on the Rappahannock" had enough music in it to make a man who was just about dead brace up, throw his chest out, and take the step as if he had received a new lease on life.
–from Music on the March, Frank Rauscher
Civil War music faithfully records the vivid emotional history of a nation divided. The military, sentimental, spiritual, and comic songs written or refitted for use from 1860 to 1865 bear a common feature: whether derivative or original, these songs sound the notes of patriotism, hope, suffering, loss and affection, with genuine feeling. More even than battle chronicles and personal memoirs, they convey a sense of the war's effect on soldiers and civilians alike. These songs have still enough music in them to bring alive again the battlefields and campgrounds, the conscription rallies, the churches, and the front parlors back home, to recreate in unerring and almost magical ways the places where the war was fought and the lives of the thirty-one million Americans who fought it.
Of the great round of military and patriotic songs sung during the war, most set new lyrics to already popular tunes. "Yankee Doodle," "John Brown's Body," "The Irish Jaunting Car," "Dixie" and even the French "La Marseilles" were fitted with appropriate lyrics and pressed into service, often on both sides. As their popularity grew, these songs frequently created influences of their own. The tune of "John Brown's Body," for example, has folk origins as an English drinking song and arrived in America in the form of a Methodist hymn composed by Charles Wesley. From a focus on the famous abolitionist of Harper's Ferry, the song's subject shifted derisively to one Sergeant John Brown of the Twelfth Massachusetts Infantry. It was this version that was overheard by Julia Ward Howe in Washington on November 17, 1861; that evening, inspired, she wrote "The Battle Hymn of the Republic," so perfect a blend of poetry and martial rhythms that it almost immediately became the national war song of the North. "Maryland, My Maryland," "We Are Coming, Father Abraham," "The Bonnie Blue Flag" and "The Southern Marsellaise" are among the many standards composed in this way.
Sentimental songs, the second largest category of derivative music, played upon the softer sensibilities associated with war. Union and Confederate soldiers sang "Home Sweet Home," "Annie Laurie," "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and "Bonnie Eloise," the lyrics provided by cheap, pocket-sized songbooks. Undeniably maudlin to some degree, these songs nonetheless capture the homesickness, the pain of leave-taking, and the pathos of separation, perhaps final, from loved ones. Original songs about the details of military life also plucked heartstrings: soldiers "Tenting On The Old Camp Ground" sang "Just Before The Battle, Mother" and wondered, "Do They Miss Me At Home?" And their families wondered, "Brother, When Will You Come Back?" or sat gravely at table, their numbers reduced by one, "The Vacant Chair" his only legacy. So mournful were these melodies that singing them at the front was frequently forbidden by commanders who quickly noted how dispiriting they could be.
At the same time, an unquenchable spirit of fun often turned maudlin or patriotic sentiments into parodies and comic variations. "When This Cruel Draft Is Over" playfully usurped one of the war's most popular and poignant tunes, "When This Cruel War is Over" ("Weeping Sad and Lonely"), and "Do They Miss Me At Home?" became "Do They Miss Me In The Trench?", a song about the high rate of desertion in both armies. Earthier by far were songs like "The Graybacks So Tenderly Clinging," which lamented the ever-present lice or cooties, and "The Leg I Left Behind Me," a legacy of the Spanish-American War. No person–president or private–or subject–motherhood or the moment of death on the battlefield–was too sacred. Nonsense songs were equally popular. "Root Hog Or Die," "That Bugler; or, The Upidee Song," and "Co-Ca-Che-Lunk; or, The Camp War Song" helped pass lonely evenings and lighten long marches. And dialect songs–"I Goes to Fit Mit Sigel," "Who Will Care For Mickey Now?", "Kingdom Coming" and the like–form a gleeful chorus of various ethnic groups with a special investment in the freedom from oppression promised by both sides.
Songs addressing the issues of slavery and the conscription and fate of black soldiers swelled an already large group of abolitionist songs as the war progressed. Their preeminent theme–deliverance–sometimes takes on religious overtones, as in "Go Down, Moses" and "Steal Away," and sometimes martial, as in "The Marching Song of The First Arkansas Regiment" and "Give Us The Flag." This last concludes with a tribute to the men of the Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts Regiment, which proved famously at Fort Wagner, South Carolina, the black soldier's courage in battle. Dissatisfaction, determination, and the desire for equal rights are the keynotes of these songs.
Clearly, Northern songwriters and publishers surpassed their Confederate rivals in the South for musical supremacy. By the 1860's Stephen Foster's idyllic South had disappeared and his creative powers had diminished, but the well-known northern composer nonetheless contributed nineteen songs ranging from the patriotic to the sentimental. "Better Times Are Coming," "Captain Foote," "I'm Nothing But A Plain Old Soldier," and "That's What's The Matter" air his decidedly democratic and Unionist views; "Give This To Mother," about a token sent home from a dying soldier, is conspicuously in a softer mode and is the composer's final word: he died three days after its publication.
More notable is the work of George F. Root and Henry Clay Work, whose creative powers peaked during the war. A zealous abolitionist and dedicated compiler of church hymns, Root contributed forty songs to the war effort, including the Union's first hit, "The First Gun Is Fired," on April 18, 1861. His "The Battle Cry of Freedom" was so well received that many argued for its adoption as the national anthem. "Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!" concerns the plight of prisoners of war, and "Just Before The Battle, Mother" is one of the war's finest sentimental songs. The pervasive influence of Root's music is neatly summarized in Lincoln's tribute to him: "You have done more than a hundred generals and a thousand orators."
Also writing for the Chicago publishers Root and Cady, Henry Clay Work specialized in dialect songs which gave vent to his deeply felt abolitionism. Foremost among them was "Kingdom Coming," a rollicking and infectious tune which rejoices in Massa's skedaddling in the face of "Linkum's gumboats" and offers a humorous salute to "de year ob Jubilo!" Black troops marched to it; politicians sang it at Lincoln's re-election rallies; Confederates withdrawing from Petersburg sang a version of it. But Work's most enduring song is unquestionably "Marching Through Georgia," a rousing battle song and regimental march much loathed by Georgians to this day. Along with Foster and Root, Work created a new style of American freedom song, the influence of which rings clearly in the later compositions of John Philip Sousa, George M. Cohen, and Irving Berlin.
Music, it has been said, is the soul of Mars, a sentiment certainly shared by Robert E. Lee, who remarked, "I do not believe we could have an army without music." The extent to which songs were integral to the spirit of the American Civil War–to its passion and romantic idealism–is captured in James Reuben Thompson's poem, "Music in Camp," written after the bloody Confederate victory at Fredericksburg in 1862. On the banks of the Rappahannock at sunset one evening, a Yankee band strikes up "Dixie" and "Yankee Doodle" to the boisterous delight of the gathered armies. But when "Home, Sweet Home" is played, visions of "the cottage 'neath the live-oak trees," and of loved ones dimly seen through tear-mists "subdued the sternest Yankee's heart,/ Made light the Rebel's slumbers." The poem concludes with this tribute:
And fair the form of Music shines
That bright, celestial creature,
Who still, 'mid War's embattled lines,
Gave this one touch of Nature.
Civil War songs have enough music in them to tell the passionate secrets of a nation divided by war but still somehow unified in spirit.
_____________________________________
Written in response to Lincoln's call for more troops in 1861, George F. Root's "The Battle Cry of Freedom" swept through the Union like a firestorm. Its robust patriotism and marchable melody made it an instant favorite at political rallies and theatrical performances as well as on the battlefield. Root was working as a printer for a Chicago publishing house when he first began to compose stirring battle songs and hymns, among them "The First Gun Is Fired" and "Forward, Boys, Forward." Supported by the firm belief in his efforts and inspired by Lincoln, he composed "The Battle Cry" in propagandistic haste and was thrilled with its immediate and widespread effect, later remarking that he was "thankful that if I could not shoulder a musket in defense of my country I could serve her in this way."
Although Herman L. Schreiner, a well known Southern composer, adapted a set of lyrics which boldly asserted, "Our Dixie forever, she's never at a loss,/ Down with the Eagle and up with the Cross," the Confederacy would never successfully harness its power, and the song remained the distinct property of the North. Stories of that power abound. Singing groups performed it to solace the wounded and dying; battered troops closed ranks and renewed their assaults with it on their lips; one Iowa regiment at Vicksburg returned from the field singing it despite having lost four hundred men. A Confederate major during the Seven Days, after watching decimated Union ranks regroup and fight on to its tune, honored the song in this memorable way:
I am not naturally superstitious, but I tell you that song sounded like the knell of Doom, and my heart went down to my boots; and though I've tried to do my duty, it has been an uphill fight with me ever since that night.
That the song had not even been composed by the time of this battle only elevates its stature. "The Battle Cry of Freedom" was doubtlessly the premier battle song of the Union army. Included here are Root's two sets of lyrics.
"The Battle Cry of Freedom"
[Rallying Song]
Yes, we'll rally 'round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom;
We will rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
CHORUS:
The Union forever, Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitor and up with the star;
While we rally 'round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more.
We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave,
And altho' they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave.
So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West,
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best.
[Battle Song]
We are marching to the field, boys, we're going to the fight,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom;
And we bear the glorious stars for the Union and the right,
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
CHORUS:
The Union forever, Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitor, up with the star;
For we're marching to the field, boys, going to the fight
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.
We will meet the rebel host, boys, with fearless hearts and true,
And we'll show what Uncle Sam has for loyal boys to do.
If we fall amid the fray, boys, we'll face them to the last,
And our comrades brave shall hear us, as they go rushing past.
Yes, for Liberty and union we're springing to the fight,
And the vict'ry shall be ours, for we're rising in our might.
_____________________________________
Harry Macarthy was in the right place at the right time. Author of the South's most popular patriotic tune after "Dixie," Macarthy was an actor, a singer, a comedian, and an unabashed self-publicist who proclaimed himself the National Poet of the South. Dressed in a traditional costume complete with diamonds, ruffled shirts and wristbands, he performed his "Personation Concerts" in every major city in the Confederacy, leaving behind a wake of patriotic fervor. The talented vocalist of Irish descent, English birth, and Arkansas upbringing also sounded his enthusiastic advocacy of the Southern cause in "Missouri," "The Volunteer; or, Weep not, dearest, weep not," and "Our Flag and its Origin, Southern National Song." A rival composer, John Hill Hewitt, or the "Bard of the South" as he was called, judged Macarthy's patriotics to be "wishy-washy" and "extremely popular for the reason that he was continually singing them at his public entertainments." Nonetheless, the South heard them when they needed to be heard.
Written in 1861 when Southern states furiously debated the issues of secession, "The Bonnie Blue Flag" was sung on January 9 at the Mississippi Convention which passed the Act of Secession. There the South Carolina flag was flown, a blue flag with a single centered white star which was, at that time, the only Confederate flag around which to rally. Later in 1861 at the New Orleans Academy of Music, "The Bonnie Blue Flag" highlighted a performance before a house filled with Virginia-bound soldiers, and its fame and Macarthy's reputation were secured. Its tune is "The Irish Jaunting Car," familiar and easily adaptable as regimental march music. Macarthy's lyrics proclaim a noble brotherhood fighting for property (later changed to "liberty") honestly gained; verses were added as successive states left the Union. So influential was the song that General Ben Butler, the "Beast of New Orleans," destroyed copies, arrested and fined its publisher, and imposed a twenty-five dollar fine on anyone caught singing or playing it.
Much loved in the South, "The Bonnie Blue Flag" was joyfully responded to and parodied in the North. John Hewitt contributed his own, zeroing in on Macarthy's alleged draft-dodging and purely financial motives and concluding with a jab at Macarthy's decision to move North, where his tune ostensibly changed. There, it is true, his popularity waned, but down South Harry Macarthy's fame lived on, and for this "The Bonnie Blue Flag" must be credited.
"The Bonnie Blue Flag"
We are a band of brothers, and native to the soil,
Fighting for the property we gain'd by honest toil;
And when our rights were threaten'd, the cry rose near and far,
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
CHORUS:
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Southern rights, Hurrah!
Hurrah! for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
As long as the old Union was faithful to her trust,
Like friends and like brothers, kind were we and just;
But now, when Northern treachery attempts our rights to mar,
We hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag, that bears a Single Star.
(Chorus)
First, gallant South Carolina nobly made the stand;
Then came Alabama, who took her by the hand;
Next, quickly Mississippi, Georgia and Florida,
All rais'd on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
(Chorus)
Ye men of valor, gather round the Banner of the Right,
Texas, and fair Louisiana join us in the fight;
Davis, our loved President, and Stephens, statesman rare,
Now rally round the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
(Chorus)
And here's to brave Virginia! The Old Dominion State
With the young Confederacy at length has linked her fate;
Impell'd by her example, now other states prepare
To hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
(Chorus)
Then here's to our Confederacy, strong we are and brave,
Like patriots of old, we'll fight our heritage to save;
And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer,
So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a Single Star.
(Chorus)
Then cheer, boys, cheer, raise the joyous shout,
For Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out;
And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given
–The Single Star of the Bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be Eleven.
_____________________________________
Ironically, the Confederate national anthem, officially so for having been played at Jefferson Davis's inauguration in 1862, was neither written in support of his cause nor by a Southerner. In April, 1859, Daniel Decatur Emmett, an Ohioan, was working with Bryant's Minstrels in New York City when he hastily composed "I Wish I Was In Dixie's Land" as a walk-around for that same evening's performance. Copyrighted a year later, the tune was widely pirated and made its appearance at the New Orleans Varieties theater in 1860 in a drama entitled, "Pocahontas." By then its Confederate adoption was secure, although Northerners continued for some years to enjoy its lively melody. One version, "Union Dixie," castigated the South as the land of "traitors, / Rattlesnakes and alligators." Thirty-nine versions have been documented, testifying to the song's pervasive appeal on both sides.
When Emmett learned of his song's appeal in the South he remarked, "If I had known to what use they were going to put my song, I will be damned if I'd have written it." But "Dixie" did eventually come home. A favorite of Lincoln's since 1860, it was played at his request in April, 1865, at the White House, the day after Richmond fell. "The Attorney General," he quipped, "gave me his legal opinion that it is now our property. So I ask the band to play 'Dixie.'"
Included on the following page are the lyrics of the original. Note stanza one, originally (and thence usually) omitted because Emmett's boss's wife feared the religious scruples of the audience.
"I Wish I Was in Dixie's Land"
Dis worl' was made in jiss six days,
An' finished up in various ways;
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
Dey den made Dixie trim and nice,
But Adam called it "Paradise,"
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
I wish I was in de land ob cotton,
Old times dar am not forgotten,
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie land.
In Dixie land whar I was born in
Early on one frosty mornin'
Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie land.
CHORUS:
Den I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie Land I'll take my stand,
To lib and die in Dixie,
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Old Missus marry "Will-de-weaber,"
Willyum was a gay deceber,
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
But when he put his arms around her,
He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder.
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber,
But dat did not seem to grieb'er,
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
Old Missus acted de foolish part,
And died for a man dat broke her heart.
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
Now here's a health to de next old Missus,
An' all de gals dat want to kiss us;
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
But if you want to drive 'way sorrow,
Come and hear dis song tomorrow.
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
Dar's buckwheat cakes and Injun batter,
Makes you fat, or a little fatter,
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
Den hoe it down and scratch your grabble,
To Dixie's land I'm bound to trabble.
Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie land.
_____________________________________
Few songs have enjoyed so close an identification with the mood martial as this double jig from Ireland, whose people, Chesterton once noted, love sad songs and merry wars. Merriment is unquestionably the tune's predominant key, ornamented with a boyish rowdiness and an elegant bravado. The quest of stout hearts for fame and glory has always been a crucial ethic of war, and here it dignifies the cheerful violence of boyos inflamed by esprit de corps no less than good brown ale. "Boys no man dares dun" from gallowglasses to West Pointers, from Gentleman Jim Corbett to General George Custer, have thrilled to its bold recklessness and marched from Garryowen in glory.
The song – here combined with a jig called "St. Patrick's Day" – dates from the 1770's and originates in the city of Limerick in the west of Ireland. A northern suburb known as Owen's Garden was the home of a prosperous brewer blessed with two sons whose exploits became the stuff of local legend. These roisterers scoffed at the local authorities, flaunting their rough and tumble tastes before a public both annoyed and mildly amused. Since then, "Garryowen" has become the anthem of bruisers and bluff hearts everywhere and enjoyed special fame as the official march of the Fighting 69th of New York, the famous National Guard Regiment which distinguished itself in World War I as part of the Rainbow Division, the vanguard of the American Expeditionary Force.
"Garryowen"
Let Bacchus's sons be not dismayed,
But join with me each jovial blade;
Come booze and sing, and lend your aid
To help me with the chorus: –
Chorus: Instead of Spa we'll drink brown ale,
And pay the reckoning on the nail,
No man for debt shall go to gaol
From Garryowen in glory!
We are the boys that take delight in
Smashing the Limerick lamps when lighting,
Through the streets like sporters fighting
And tearing all before us. (Chorus)
We'll break windows, we'll break doors,
The watch knock down by threes and fours;
Then let the doctors work their cures,
And tinker up our bruises. (Chorus)
We'll beat the bailiffs, out of fun,
We'll make the mayor and sheriffs run:
We are the boys no man dares dun,
If he regards a whole skin. (Chorus)
Our hearts, so stout, have got us fame
For soon 'tis known from whence we came;
Where'er we go they dread the name
Of Garryowen in glory. (Chorus)
Johnny Connell's tall and straight,
And in his limbs he is complete;
He'll pitch a bar of any weight,
From Garryowen to Thomond Gate. (Chorus)
Garryowen is gone to wrack
Since Johnny Connell went to Cork,
Though Derby O'Brien leapt over the dock
In spite of all the soldiers. (Chorus)_____________________________________
Many versions of this standard exist, dating from the late eighteenth century. The melody is an authentic Irish folk tune from as early as 1660; Bunting included it in The Ancient Music of Ireland (1840) under the title, "An spailpin fanach." As a song its earliest appearance was in 1758, when England was threatened by an invasion from France and an unknown Irish conscript is thought to have penned the lyrics. Since then amateur and professional lyricists alike have tried their hand. Samuel Lover, Irish novelist and songwriter (1798-1868) best known for "Rory O'Moore" (1836), "Handy Andy" (1842), and the collection Legends and Stories of Ireland (1831), included a version in Songs and Ballads (1839). Thomas Moore in Irish Melodies (1807-34) moderated the tempo to produce "As Slow Our Ship Her Foamy Track," a tearful salute from the living to "those we've left behind us." The song has also been pressed into service as a square dance and stage song, but it is as a fife tune and a traditional song of leave-taking that "The Girl I Left Behind Me" has been longest and most heartily enjoyed.
Of the several legends surrounding the song and its origins, certainly the most vivid concerns an Irish bandmaster in Her Majesty's Service who was reportedly so enamored of and beloved by the local ladies that his regimental band out of habit struck up the tune each time they broke camp. The British (the English version is called "Brighton Camp") officially introduced the song to America during the Revolutionary War. Later, soldiers of the Mexican War joked grimly about "The Leg I Left Behind Me," and Civil War parodists in the same spirit of fun sang "I Goes To Fight Mit Sigel," a dialect song which played on the stereotype of the Dutchman who, along with the Negro and the Irishman, enjoyed center stage at that time. Ever watchful for a hit, the irrepressible Harry Macarthy exploited the tune for "The Volunteer; or, It Is My Country's Call" to stir up Southern patriotic sentiment. The song's long history and numerous versions attest both to the sturdiness of its tune and to the universality of its sentiment.
"Brighton Camp"
I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill
And o'er the moor and valley,
Such heavy thoughts my heart did fill
Since parting with my Sally.
I seek no more the fine and gay
For each does but remind me
How swift the hours did pass away
With the girl I left behind me.
Oh, ne'er shall I forget the night
The stars were bright above me
And gently lent their silv'ry light
When first she vowed she loved me.
But now I'm bound for Brighton Camp
Kind Heaven may favor find me
And send me safely back again
To the girl I left behind me.
My mind her form shall still retain
In sleeping and in waking
Until I see my love again
For whom my heart is breaking.
If ever I shall see the day
When Mars shall have resigned me
Forever more I'll gladly stay
With the girl I left behind me.
_____________________________________
Just Before The Battle, Mother
In The Story of a Musical Life: An Autobiography of George F. Root (1891), the celebrated wartime composer tells of a Union colonel seriously wounded in the Battle of Franklin. The day before he had heard "Just Before The Battle, Mother" and later maintained that the song came back to him repeatedly through a recuperation period which lasted longer than a year. It is not difficult to imagine how a piece so lyrically and melodically pure, so dignified and noble in sentiment, might have in this way sustained men wounded in body and spirit. Unlike many "battle" songs designed to excite martial fervor, "Just Before The Battle, Mother" clearly and unabashedly sounds the notes of home, family, love, honor, and duty and was actually sung by Civil War soldiers themselves, for reasons they probably little cared to admit.
This hugely popular and widely parodied song contains a conspicuous bit of self-promotion: the lyrics allude to the "Battle Cry of Freedom," another of Root's giant hits. Early in the war it was brought by Christy's Minstrels to England and quickly became so ingrained there that ultimately the British claimed it for their own during the Crimean War. In the l950's Irish folk singer Dominic Behan, author of "The Patriot Game" and brother of the famous writer, recorded it in the form of a children's street rhyme. In 1863 Root had sensed its potential and without missing a step followed with "On The Field of Battle, Mother" and "Just After the Battle," the latter an optimistic sequel in which every soldier survives. The long list of parodies and sequels includes "Brother, Tell Me Of The Battle," "No, I'll Not Forget You, Darling," "Mother, Is the Battle Over?" and "Yes, My Boy, The Battle's Over," each contributing to an ongoing musical dialogue central to the emotional life of soldiers and their loved ones at home.
"Just Before The Battle, Mother"
Just before the battle, Mother,
I am thinking most of you
While upon the field we're watching,
With the enemy in view.
Comrades brave are 'round me lying,
Filled with thoughts of home and God;
For well they know that on the morrow,
Some will sleep beneath the sod.
Chorus: Farewell, Mother, you may never
Press me to your breast again;
But, Oh, you'll not forget me, Mother,
If I'm numbered with the slain.
Oh, I long to see you, Mother,
And the loving ones at home,
But I'll never leave our banner,
Till in honor I can come.
Tell the traitors all around you
That their cruel words we know,
In every battle kill our soldiers
By the help they give the foe.
Hark! I hear the bugles sounding,
'Tis the signal for the fight,
Now, may God protect us, Mother,
As He ever does the right.
Hear the "Battle Cry of Freedom,"
How it swells upon the air,
Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard,
Or we'll perish nobly there._____________________________________
Sentimental ballads were the most popular musical form in mid-nineteenth century America, and during the war these "heart songs" flourished. At the siege of Atlanta each evening, a Georgia sharpshooter brought about a momentary cease-fire by playing on his cornet such favorites as Foster's "Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming" and Balfe's "I Dreamt that I Dwelt in Marble Halls." Almost certainly he played Webster"s "Lorena" as well. Most Confederates agreed with one Dr. Rufus, who claimed that this song was "supreme as to melody and also for beauty of versification." With Bishop's "Home, Sweet Home" and Lover's "The Girl I Left Behind Me," "Lorena" was probably sung and played more often than any other song during the war.
Its composer, the Reverend H.D.L. Webster, was a Universalist preacher from Massachusetts whose courtship of a young woman named Ella ended unhappily: his sweetheart chose to marry a lawyer who later became Chief Justice in Ohio rather than suffer life's hardships with an itinerant preacher. To fit the melody written by his friend, J. P. Webster, Reverend Webster combined "Ella" and "Lenore," from Edgar Allen Poe's famous poem, "The Raven," and published the song in Chicago in 1857. Its tone, rich with both longing and acceptance, stirs the spirits of noble aspiration and passionate attachment, for it was not Lorena who "broke / The tie which linked my soul with thee" but "A duty, stern and pressing." For soldiers in camps and maidens waiting at home, "Lorena" catches perfectly the mood of that otherwise inexplicable romantic idealism which lies at the heart of the Civil War.
"Lorena"
The years creep slowly by, Lorena,
The snow is on the grass again;
The sun's low down the sky, Lorena,
The frost gleams where the flow'rs have been.
But the heart throbs on as warmly now,
As when the summer days were nigh;
Oh! The sun can never dip so low,
A-down affection's cloudless sky.
The sun can never slip so low,
A-down affection's cloudless sky.
A hundred months have passed, Lorena,
Since last I held that hand in mine,
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena,
Though mine beat faster far than thine.
A hundred months, 'twas flowery May,
When up the hilly slope we climbed,
To watch the dying of the day,
And hear the distant church bells chime.
We loved each other then, Lorena,
More than we ever dared to tell;
And what we might have been, Lorena,
Had but our loving prospered well –
But then, 'tis past, the years are gone,
I'll not call up their shadowy forms;
I'll say to them, "Lost years, sleep on!
Sleep on! nor heed life's pelting storms."
The story of that past, Lorena,
Alas! I care not to repeat,
The hopes that could not last, Lorena,
They lived, but only lived to cheat.
I would not cause e'en one regret
To rankle in your bosom now;
For "if we try, we may forget,"
Were words of thine long years ago.
Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena,
They burn within my memory yet;
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
Which thrill and tremble with regret.
"Twas not thy woman's heart that spoke;
Thy heart was always true to me;
A duty, stern and pressing, broke
The tie which linked my soul with thee.
It matters little now, Lorena,
The past is in the eternal past,
Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena,
Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.
There is a future! O, thank God!
Of life this is so small a part!
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod!
But up there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod!
But up there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.
_____________________________________
Campaign songs and songs commemorating specific personalities and events enjoyed only a passing appeal during the war years and exist today primarily in the libraries of musical historians. The Fall of Sumter, the Bethlehem riot, and the siege of Vicksburg were celebrated in fervent but now-forgotten tunes; Stonewall Jackson, George B. McClellan, Jefferson Davis, and Abraham Lincoln gathered musical tributes and trashings which have passed quietly into the records of the era. Most of these wedded lofty phrases with undistinguished melodies, the outpourings of a fiery patriotism too hastily composed. Henry C. Work's "Marching through Georgia," however, is a notable exception.
This song both celebrates and justifies Sherman's march to Savannah in 1864, a sixty-mile-wide devastation of Georgian rural life which destroyed communication and supply lines between Lee's army and the lower Confederate states and heralded the approaching end of the war. The North's jubilant mood expressed itself not only in the song's driving melody but also in the righteous zeal and near-festive arrogance of its lyrics. What was certainly a bloody path littered with the victims of war's most criminal behaviors becomes "a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train," clearly a partisan view of the matter. Still, the song's victorious swagger is infectious.
Not so for its hero, however. Sherman, ever the strict professional, preferred one of the inevitable sequels, a song by Lieutenants Samuel Hawkins and J.C. Rockwell entitled, "Sherman's March To The Sea," written when they were prisoners of war in Columbia, South Carolina. Of Work's song Sherman said, "If I had thought when I made that march that it would have inspired anyone to compose such a piece, I would have marched around the state." But despite its extravagances and inaccuracies, "Marching Through Georgia" exudes an admirable energy, and, to the dismay of many Southerners, has survived both world wars as a popular marching tune.
"Marching Through Georgia"
Bring the good old bugle, boys! we'll sing another song –
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along –
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.
CHORUS:
"Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the Jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!"
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
While we were marching through Georgia.
How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found!
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
While we were marching through Georgia. (Chorus)
Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honor'd flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Georgia. (Chorus)
"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy rebels said, and 'twas a handsome boast,
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the host,
While we were marching through Georgia. (Chorus)
So we made a thoroughfare for freedom and her train,
Sixty miles in latitude – three hundred to the main;
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
While we were marching through Georgia. (Chorus)
_____________________________________
Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel
Published in 1863 by A. E. Blackmar, "Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel" has happily dodged the fate of so many topical Civil War songs by dint of its jaunty tune and sardonic tone. It catalogues in embarrassing detail the aborted efforts of Union commanders between July, 1861, and January, 1863, to take the Confederacy's capital. The melody was probably composed by Dan Emmet and was well known for at least a decade before the war. The original lyrics by E. P. Christy of minstrel company fame established the song's applicability "to the times," and no banjo song of the period was so often called upon as a vehicle for news commentary. Sure enough, The Hutchinson Family Singers quickly appropriated it for an antislavery piece which advised "the boys" of the North to unbuckle, for "slavery is a hard foe to battle." And Lincoln's 1860 campaign got a boost from yet another parody of the original which announced confidently that "Lincoln and the people are a-coming, I believe."
The author of the famous Southern parody was John R. Thompson, editor of the Southern Literary Messenger and The Southern Field and Fireside and one of the most notable men of letters of his day, one who influenced a host of writers including P.H. Haynes, Henry Timrod, and John Esten Cooke. Of course, the subject was ripe for ridicule; Northern commanders McDowell, Banks, Fremont, McClellan, Pope and Burnside had made lots of noise but little progress in capturing Richmond during the early war years. The predictable glee this inspired in Southern patriots is caught in the song's verbal hi-jinks: puns on the names of people and places abound, and epithets from news accounts praising the generals were turned about and sent sharply home to the North. But its greatest charm lies in its presumed puzzlement over who'll be next "to command the new Richmond expedition," an appointment for which Lincoln appeared to be running out of candidates. As a hoot, a cat call, a Bronx Cheer, "Richmond is a Hard Road to Travel" has few equals.
"Richmond Is a Hard Road to Travel"
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long,
Of the famous "On to Richmond" double trouble;
Of the half a dozen trips, and half a dozen slips,
And the very latest bursting of the bubble?
'Tis pretty hard to sing, and like a round, round ring,
'Tis a dreadful knotty puzzle to unravel,
Though all the papers swore, when we touched Virginia's shore,
That Richmond was a hard road to travel.
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel;
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
First, McDowell, bold and gay, set forth the shortest way,
By Manassas in the pleasant summer weather,
But unfortunately ran on a Stonewall, foolish man,
And had a "rocky journey" altogether;
And he found it rather hard to ride o'er Beauregard,
And Johnston proved a deuce of a bother,
And 'twas clear beyond a doubt that he didn't like the route,
And a second time would have to try another.
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Manassas is a hard road to travel;
Manassas gave us fits, and Bull Run made us grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
Next came the Wooly-Horse, with an overwhelming force,
To march down to Richmond by the Valley,
But he couldn't find the road, and his "onward movement" showed
His campaigning was a mere shilly-shally.
Then Commissary Banks, with his motley foreign ranks,
Kicking up a great noise, fuss, and flurry,
Lost the whole of his supplies, and with tears in his eyes,
From the Stonewall ran away in a hurry.
Then pull off your greatcoat, and roll up your sleeve,
For the Valley is a hard road to travel;
The Valley wouldn't do and we all had to leave,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
Then the great Galena came, with her portholes all aflame,
And the Monitor that famous naval wonder,
But the guns at Drury's Bluff gave them speedily enough,
The loudest sort of reg'lar Rebel thunder.
The Galena was astonished and the Monitor admonished,
Our patent shot and shell were mocked at,
While the dreadful Naugatuck, by the hardest kind of luck,
Was knocked into an ugly cocked hat..
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For James River is a hard road to travel;
The gun-boats gave it up in terror and despair,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I declare!
Then McClellan followed soon, both with spade and balloon,
To try the Peninsular approaches,
But one and all agreed that his best rate of speed
Was no faster than the slowest of "slow coaches."
Instead of easy ground, at Williamsburg he found
A Longstreet indeed, and nothing shorter,
And it put him in the dumps, that spades wasn't trumps,
And the Hills he couldn't level "as he orter."
Then pull off your greatcoat, roll up your sleeve,
For Longstreet is a hard road to travel,
Lay down the shovel, and throw away the spade,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I'm afraid!
Then said Lincoln unto Pope, "You can make the trip, I hope
–I will save the Universal Yankee nation,
To make sure of no defeat, I'll leave no lines of retreat,
And issue a famous proclamation."
But that same dreadful Jackson, this fellow laid his whacks on,
And made him, by compulsion, a seceder,
And Pope took rapid flight from Manassas' second fight,
'Twas his very last appearance as a leader.
Then pull off your greatcoat, roll up your sleeve,
For Stonewall is a hard road to travel;
Pope did his very best, but was evidently sold,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I am told!
Last of all the brave Burnside, with his pontoon bridges, tried
A road no one had thought of before him,
With two hundred thousand men for the Rebel slaughter pen,
And the blessed Union flag waving o'er him;
But he met a fire like hell, of canister and shell,
That mowed his men down with great slaughter,
'Twas a shocking sight to view, that second Waterloo,
And the river ran with more blood than water.
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
Rappahannock is a hard road to travel;
Burnside got in a trap, which caused him for to grieve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
We are very much perplexed to know who is the next
To command the new Richmond expedition,
For the Capital must blaze, and that in ninety days,
And Jeff and his men be sent to perdition.
We'll take the cursed town, and then we'll burn it down,
And plunder and hang up each cursed Rebel;
Yet the contraband was right when he told us they would fight,-
"Oh, yes, massa, they fight like the devil!"
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel;
Then pull off your greatcoat and roll up your sleeve,
For Richmond is a hard road to travel, I believe!
_____________________________________
A native Philadelphian, Silas Sexton Steele began his career there in 1835 as an actor but turned to writing when his thespian aspirations were firmly discouraged by a discerning public. His first play, "The Goatheads," was performed privately in 1836, but eventually the curtain would rise over forty of his plays, many of which were operatic and musical. "The Brazen Drum" (1841), "Stewart's Capture" (1842), and "The Crock of Gold; or, The Toiler's Tale" (1845) were the most popular, the last a sentimental domestic drama set in England which displays Steele's talent for dialect in the comic character of the fisherman Peter Perch. That talent, as well as his interest in nautical themes generally, won the praise of the novelist James Fenimore Cooper, particularly for a piece (now lost) entitled "The Lion of the Sea; or, Our Infant Navy." But although Steele's many melodramas, farces, burlesques, and comic operas were well received for more than twenty years in Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and London, today he bears the unfortunate distinction of belonging to that large group of nineteenth-century American playwrights who are mainly remembered for being quite forgotten.
His "ear" for regional or dialectical speech equipped him for what was then called the "Ethiopian Opera," and for various minstrel show companies he wrote such operatic trifles as "Black Diabolo, or, The Inn at Terrapina," "Love and Hominy," "Aladdin," and "A Night Down Town; or, De Toe Wins de Hand." It was also for this medium that he composed "The Rose of Alabama," both a banjo song and a song about a banjo, which had all the ingredients for success on the burlesque stage. A catchy tune, a Southern setting, a comic tone, a tale in dialect of courtin' in the moonlight–just the ticket for burnt-corked soloists or nimble combatants in those "Battle of the Banjos" which at that time so excited the devotees of Tambo and Bones.
Although the popularity of such entertainments peaked in the 1850's, minstrel shows persisted throughout the war years despite the difficulties involved especially for Southern minstrel companies in adjusting their themes and arrangements to the shifting political views of the audience. Naturally, soldiers on the march could little resist the bouncy appeal of these nineteenth-century equivalents of modern show tunes, and so sang "Dixie" or "The Bonnie Blue Flag" as lustily as any Christy Minstrel. From stage to battlefield, "The Rose of Alabama" stepped lively, and continues to do so today.
"The Rose of Alabama"
Away from Mississippi's vale, wid my old hat dar for a sail,
I cross'd upon a cotton bale, to Rose of Alabama.
Chorus: Oh, brown, Rosie, the Rose of Alabama,
A sweet tobacco posey is de Rose of Alabama,
A sweet tobacco posey is de Rose of Alabama.
I landed on de far sand bank, I sat upon a holler plank,
An' dare I made the banjo twank, for Rose of Alabama. (Chorus)
I said, "Sit down just where you please," so cross my legs she took her ease.
"It's good to go upon the knees," said Rose of Alabama. (Chorus)
De river rolled, de crickets sing, de lightnin' bug he flash'd his wing,
And like a rope my arms I fling round Rose of Alabama. (Chorus)
I hugged so long I cannot tell; my Rosie seemed to like it well;
My banjo in the river fell, Oh, Rose of Alabama! (Chorus)
Like alligator after prey, I plunged in but it float away;
All the while it seemed to play, –Oh Rose of Alabama! (Chorus)
Now every night in moon or shower, I hunt that banjo for an hour
And meet my sweet tobacco flower, the Rose of Alabama. (Chorus)
_____________________________________
At the outset of the war, Connecticut-born Charles Carroll Sawyer turned from writing sonnets to writing sentimental ballads with huge success. His method of composition was to transform the report of an actual war incident into a poignant or passionate musical moment, and his songs, unlike most other wartime composers', remained completely non-partisan, touching Northern and Southern hearts alike. "Who Will Care For Mother Now?" and "Mother Would Comfort Me" lead the throng of inevitable "mother" songs which war engenders; "Weeping Sad and Lonely," his finest effort, enjoyed unprecedented popularity, selling over a million copies. Also called "When This Cruel war Is Over," "Weeping Sad and Lonely" depicts the "many cruel fancies" of a soldier's sweetheart as she recalls their last meeting. A melancholic expression of heroic hopes and tender pride, the song balances the young woman's fears for the safety of her proud soldier and her stoical acceptance of his possible fate. Minor substitutions in stanza one and in the final verse allowed it to be sung by both Union and Confederate songsters.
The numerous musical responses to Sawyer's tune range from the outwardly optimistic "When This Cruel War Is Over, I Will Come Back To You" (Grenville) to the darkly realistic "Answer To When This Cruel War Is Over" (Hewitt). Thus, the song's widespread appeal is attested to by the continuing musical dialogue it inspired. So moving to mid-nineteenth sensibilities was it that generals on both sides finally forbade its singing in camp.
"Weeping, Sad and Lonely"
Dearest one, do you remember,
When we last did meet?
When you told me how you loved me,
Kneeling at my feet?
Oh! how proud you stood before me,
In your suit of gray;
When you vowed from me and country,
Ne'er to go astray!
CHORUS:
Weeping, sad and lonely,
Sighs and tears, how vain;
When this cruel war is over,
Praying then to meet again!
When the summer breeze is sighing
Mournfully along;
Or when autumn leaves are falling,
Sadly breathes the song.
Oft in dreams I see you lying
On the battle plain;
Lonely, wounded, even dying,
Calling, but in vain. (Chorus)
If amid the din of battle,
Nobly you should fall;
Far away from those who love you,
None to hear you call:
Who would whisper words of comfort?
Who would soothe your pain?
Such are many cruel fancies
Ever in my brain! (Chorus)
But our country called you, loved one,
Angels guide your way;
While our "Southern boys" are fighting,
We can only pray.
When you strike for God and Freedom,
Let all nations see
How you love our Southern banner,
Emblem of the free. (Chorus)
_____________________________________
When Johnny Comes Marching Home
With the fall of Savannah, Northern hopes brightened and families on both sides began to anticipate the return of the troops. Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore, a renowned regimental bandleader, caught this eagerness in "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," a lively march which survives today in various forms, among them a campfire song known to most children as "The Ants Go Marching One by One." Gilmore's song directs the home folks to "get ready for the Jubilee" when roses and laurel wreaths will fill the returning warriors' hearts with joy. The cruel war was nearly over.
Gilmore rose through the musical ranks to achieve legendary status at a time when regimental bands played a key role in military strategy. Early in the war they often lead infantry into battle, retiring to the rear only at the final moment to serve as stretcher bearers and hospital orderlies. Occasionally they stood their ground at the front; at the Battle of Dinwiddie Court House, for example, General Sheridan placed all his bands on the firing line and ordered them to play loudly and gaily, and the Confederates did the same. Edward P. Jobie recalled this battle of the bands:
Our band came up from the rear and cheered and animated our hearts by its rich music; ere long a rebel band replied by giving us Southern airs; with cheers from each side in encouragement of its own band, a cross-fire of the "Star-Spangled Banner," "Yankee Doodle," and "John Brown's Body" mingled with "Dixie" and "The Bonnie Blue Flag."By 1863 regimental bands, some of them sixty musicians strong, had for the most part been replaced by smaller fife and drum corps.
The Irish-born Gilmore wrote "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" under the pseudonym "Louis Lambert" while in New Orleans under General Banks's command. He fitted his gay lyrics to what many scholars believe to be an old Irish tune called "Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye" and "Johnny, Fill Up The Bowl." Full of heroic sentiment, the song joyfully depicts the return of the men as righteous, necessary, and, most important, imminent. One of musical history's small ironies is that its power is undiminished as an anti-war song.
"When Johnny Comes Marching Home"
When Johnny comes marching home again,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give him a hearty welcome then,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer, the boys will shout,
The ladies they will all turn out.
CHORUS:
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
The old church-bell will peal with joy,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The village lads and lasses say
With roses they will strew the way. (Chorus)
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give the hero three times three,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow. (Chorus)
Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
Their choicest treasures then display,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
And let each one perform some part
To fill with joy the warrior's heart. (Chorus)
–End of Songbook–