Hardtacks CIVIL WAR SONGSTER Companion
by The Hardtacks
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Oh kind folks listen to my song
It is no idle story
It’s all about a volunteer
Who's going to fight for glory
Now don't you think that I am right
For I am nothing shorter
And I belong to the Fire Zou Zous
And don't you think I oughter
We're going down to Washington
To fight for Abraham's Daughter
Oh should you ask me who she am
Columbia is her name sir
She is the child of Abraham
Or Uncle Sam the same, sir
Now if I fight, Why ain’t I right
And don't you think I oughter
The volunteers are pouring in
From every loyal quarter
And I'm goin' long to Washington
To fight for Abraham's Daughter
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Don't you see the black clouds
Risin' ober yonder,
Whar massa's ole plantation am,
Neber you be frightened.
Dem is only darkeys,
Come to jine and fight for Uncle Sam.
CHORUS:
Look out dar, now.
We's gwine to shoot.
Look out dar, don't you understand,
Babylon is fallen, Babylon is fallen,
And we's a gwine to occupy de land.
Don't you see de lightnin!
Flashing in de cane brake,
Like as if we gwine to hab a storm,
No, you is mistaken,
'Tis de darkey's Baynots,
And de buttons on dar uniform.
Way up in de corn field,
Whar you hear de tunder,
Dat is our ole forty pounder gun,
When de shells are missin,
Den we load wid punkins,
All de same to make de cowards run.
Massa was de Kernel
In de rebel army,
Ebber sense he went an' run away,
But his lubly darkies,
Dey has been a watching,
An' dey take him pris'ner tudder day.
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Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
CHORUS:
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His truth is marching on.
...
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We are a band of brothers natives to the soil,
Fighting for our property we gained by honest toil;
But when our rights were threatened 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 the single star.
As long as the Union was faithful to her trust,
Like friends and like brothers we were kind 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.
Frist, gallant South Carolina nobly made a stand,
Then came Alabama who took her by the hand,
Next quickly Mississippi, Georgia and Florida,
All raised on high the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.
Ye men of valor gather around the banner of right,
Texas and fair Louisana will join us in the fight:
Davis our loved President, and Stephen's statesman rare;
Now rally round the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star.
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Here I am as you diskiver,
All de way from roaring river;
Here I cum, as you must know,
For to play de ole banjo.
CHORUS.
O lud gals, gib me chaw tobacco,
O lud gals, fotch on de whiskey,
My head swims, and I feel a little tipsey
Way down by de Indian Nation,
Dar's pretty little gals from de wild goose nation
My wife's dead, and I'll get annudder,
Pretty little yaller gal jest like the todder.
O lud gals, gib me chaw tobacco, &c.
Ole Masca Miller goes out a preachin',
'Bout de world coming to pieces,
An' if you want to do what's right,
Go an' join de Millerite.
O lud gals, gib me chaw tobacco, &c.
Summer time has come at last,
Old cold winter's gone and past;
Fourth July we'll have a lark,
And see de sojers in de Park.
O lud gals, gib me chaw tobacco, &c.
Fourth July, without any flattery,
Is a great day down on de battery;
De coannon roar, and so loudly clatter,
Get your eye put out wid a fire cracker.
O lud gals, gib me chaw tobacco, &c.
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Jeff Davis was a hero bold, you've heard of him, I know;
He tried to make himself a king where Southern breezes blow;
But Uncle Sam, he laid the youth across his mighty knee,
And spanked him well, and that's the end of brave old Jeffy D.
Chorus: Oh! Jeffy D! you Flow'r of Chivalree!
Oh! royal Jeffy D!
Your Empire's but a tin-clad skirt,
Oh! charming Jeffy D!
This Davis, he was always full of bluster and of brag;
He swore: On all our Northern walls he'd plant his rebel rag!
But when to battle he did go, he said: I'm not so green..
To dodge the bullets, I will wear my tin-clad Crinoline!
Chorus.
Now, when he saw the game was up he started for the woods,
His band-box hung upon his arm, quite full of fancy-goods..
Said Jeff: They'll never take me now, I'm sure I'll not be seen,
They'd never think to look for me beneath my Crinoline!
Chorus.
Jeff took with him, the people say, a mine of golden coin,
Which he, from banks and other places, managed to purloin;
But while he ran, like every thief, he had to drop the spoons,
And may be that's the reason why he dropped his pantaloons.
Chorus.
Our Union boys were on his track, for many nights and days;
His palpitating heart is beat, enough to burst his stays;
Oh! what a dash he must have cut, with form so tall and lean!
Just fancy now the: What is it? dressed up in Crinoline!
Chorus.
The Ditch that Jeff was hunting for, he found was very near
He tried to SHIFT his base again, his neck felt rather queer..
Just on the out-SKIRTS of a wood, his dainty shape was seen.
His boots stuck out, and now they'll hang old Jeff in Crinoline!
Chorus.
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7. |
Jim Crow (banjo)
01:22
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Should dey get to fighting,
Perhaps de bracks will rise,
For deir wish for freedom
Is shining in deir eyes,
An if de bracks should get free,
I guess they’ll feel some bigger,
An I shall consider it,
A bold troke for de niggar.!
I am for freedom,
An for union altogeder,
Although I am a brack man,
De white is called my broder.
What stuff it is in dem
To make de debil brack,
I’ll prove dat he is white,
In de twinkling of a crack.
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Abram Lincoln? what yer 'bout?
Hurrah! hurrah!
Stop this war: for, it's played out--
Hurrah! hurrah!
Abram Lincoln, what yer 'bout?
Stop this war: it's all played out!
We'll all drink stone blind--
Johnny fill up the bowl.
We're getting anxious, all of us,
Hurrah! hurrah!
We're getting anxious, all of us,
Hurrah, hurrah!
We're getting anxious, all of us,
For you to stop this Southern muss;
Then we'll all drink stone blind--
Johnny, fill up the bowl.
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9. |
Lucy Neal (banjo)
01:05
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O there's the white man coming,
to tear you from my side;
Stand back you white slave dealer!,
she is my 'trothed bride.
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Ring the good old bugle boys, we'll sing another song,
Sing it with the spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it as we used to sing it 50,000 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.
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11. |
Mary Blane (banjo)
01:16
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Oh! once I loved a yellow gal,
I loved her as my life;
She came from old Virginia,
And I took her for my wife.
We happy lived together,
She never caused me pain;
But on one cold and stormy night
I lost my Mary Blane.
CHORUS.
Farewell! farewell! poor Mary Blane;
One faithful heart still thinks of you,
Farewell! farewell! poor Mary Blane,
Tho' we ne'er shall meet again.
>> http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/S?ammem/amss:@field(TITLE+@od1(Mary+Blane++H++De+Marsan,+No++60+Chatham+Street,+N++Y++[n++d+]))
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Avenge the patriotic gore
That fleck'd the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore!
Oh Maryland, my Maryland!
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Weep no more, my lady,
Weep no more today,
We will sing one song for that old Kentucky home,
For that Old Kentucky Home so far away.
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All quiet along the Potomac "they say,"
"Except now and then a stray Picket"
Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing--a private or two, now and then,
Will not count in the news of the battle;
Not an officer lost, only one of the men,
Moaning out all alone the death rattle.
All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
O'er the light of the watch fire are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night-wind
Through the forest leaves softly is creeping;
While stars up above, with their glittering eyes
Keep guard, for the army is sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two in the low trundle bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack, his face dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As be!mutters a prayer for the children asleep--
For their mother--may Heaven defend her.
The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then,
That night when the love yet unspoken,
Leaped up to his lips, when low-murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun closer up to its place,
As if to keep down the heart swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
The footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light.
Toward the shade of the forest so dreary.
Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looks like a rifle--"Ha! Mary, good by,"
And the life blood is ebbing and plashing.
All quiet along the Potomac to-night,
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,
The Picket's off duty forever.
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Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,
Cheer up, comrades, they will come!
And beneath a starry flag we will breathe the air again
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
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I am my mother's darling boy,
I am my mother's darling boy,
I am my mother's darling boy,
Sing a little song called soldier's joy!
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18. |
Southern Soldier (banjo)
00:56
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I'll place my knapsack on my back
My rifle on my shoulder
I'll march away to the firing line
And kill that Yankee soldier
I'll bid farewell to my wife and child
Farewell to my aged mother
And go and join in the bloody strife
Till this cruel war is over
If I am shot on the battlefield
And I should not recover
Oh, who will protect my wife and child
And care for my aged mother
And if our Southern cause is lost
And Southern rights denied us
We'll be ground beneath the tyrant's heel
For our demands of justice
Before the South shall bow her head
Before the tyrants harm us
I'll give my all to the Southern cause
And die in the Southern army
If I must die for my home and land
My spirit will not falter
Oh, here's my heart and here's my hand
Upon my country's altar
Then Heaven be with us in the strife
Be with the Southern soldier
We'll drive the mercenary horde
Beyond our Southern border
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I looked o'er Jordan and what did I see
Coming for to carry me home
But a band of angels coming after me
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home
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We're tenting tonight on the old campground,
Give us a song to cheer
Our weary hearts, a song of home
& friends we love so dear.
Many are the hearts that are weary tonight,
Wishing for the war to cease,
Many are the hearts that are looking for the right
To see the dawn of peace.
Tenting tonight, tenting tonight,
Tenting on the old campground.
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"There is a fountain fill'd with blood
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.
...
E'er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love hath been my theme
And shall be 'till I die."
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22. |
The Vacant Chair
02:10
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We shall meet, but we shall miss him,
There will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him,
When we breathe our ev'ning pray'r.
When a year ago we gathered,
Joy was in his mild blue eye,
But a golden cord is severed.
And our hopes in ruin lie.
CHORUS:
We shall meet, but we shall miss him,
There will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him,
When we breathe our ev'ning pray'r.
At our fireside sad and lonely,
Often will the bosom swell
At remembrance of the story
How our noble Willie fell;
How he strove to bear our banner
Thro' the thickest of the fight,
And uphold our country's honor
In the strength of manhood's might.
[CHORUS]
True, they tell us wreaths of glory
Evermore will deck his brow,
But this soothes the anguish only
Sweeping o'er our heart strings now.
Sleep today, O early fallen,
In thy green and narrow bed;
Dirges from the pine and cypress
Mingle with the tears we shed.
[CHORUS]
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23. |
Yankee Doodle (banjo)
01:12
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NEW YANKEE DOODLE.
Burst all my buttons off my coat,
Knock my boots asunder;
I'm mad as forty--yes I am,
And is it any wonder?
To see our glorious Union thus,
On the brink of dissolution:
By treason now combining 'gainst
Our Laws and Constitution.
Yankee Doodle--stick to that,
It suits all kinds of weather;
While Hail Columbia's happy land
Can keep us all together.
They first pull down our stars and stripes,
And seize our forts and ships, sirs;
Then swear that we're coercing them,
If we open but our lips, sirs.
Now, darn my picters if it's right;
'Mongst traitors they must rank in;
If Uncle Sam warn't over kind,
He'd give 'em all a spankin'.
Yankee Doodle--stick to that,
It comes tarnation handy;
'Twill do to sing and fight and play,
Will Yankee Doodle Dandy
At taming horses Rarey's great,
'Tis true, there's none surpasses;
Give him the reins of government,
Perhaps he'd tame these asses.
They kick against 'most everything
That comes in shape of reason;
But wait till they get short of corn,
A compromise may please 'em.
Yankee Doodle--that's the talk,
The tune is monstrous clever.
Yankee Doodle shout aloud,
Our Union, now, for ever!
South Car'lina, let her went!
She's always been a cuss, sirs;
E'er since I know'd my A B ab's,
She's tried to pick a fuss, sirs.
Her sons have got no bringing up,
That's plainly to be seen, sirs;
And if I arn't mistaken now,
They're darned eternal mean, sirs.
Yankee Doodle--speak it out
In peals of mighty thunder;
Seceeders soon beyond a doubt,
Will have to stand from under.
There's traitors North, as well as South,
Who keep up agitation;
They never care a pin about
Our Union as a nation.
Oh, dont I wish I had my way!
I'd hang up 'bout a dozen;
Jeru-sa-lem! I think 'twould stop
Their everlasting buzzin'.
Yankee Doodle--stick to that,
'Twill stand all kinds of weather;
"Hail Columbia"--"Spangled Banner"--
Sing 'em all together.
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about
Companion audio tracks giving melodies for the 100+ songs included in The Hardtacks Civil War Songster.
( civilwarfolkmusic.com/songster )
( civilwarfolkmusic.com/songster )
credits
released October 1, 2013
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about
The Hardtacks New Hampshire
THE HARDTACKS explore 19th century history & culture with unique combinations of period music, quotes, & visual materials...
discography
-
Oct 2013 -
Mar 2016
contact / help
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