We've updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Hardtacks CIVIL WAR SONGSTER Companion

by The Hardtacks

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
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.
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. ...
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
O there's the white man coming, to tear you from my side; Stand back you white slave dealer!, she is my 'trothed bride.
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.
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+]))
Avenge the patriotic gore That fleck'd the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle queen of yore! Oh Maryland, my Maryland!
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.
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.
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.
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!
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
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
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.
"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."
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]
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.


Companion audio tracks giving melodies for the 100+ songs included in The Hardtacks Civil War Songster.
( civilwarfolkmusic.com/songster )


released October 1, 2013




The Hardtacks New Hampshire

THE HARDTACKS explore 19th century history & culture with unique combinations of period music, quotes, & visual materials...

contact / help

Contact The Hardtacks

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like The Hardtacks, you may also like: