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1864 – 2014

AMERICAN CIVIL WAR SESQUICENTENNIAL

CIVIL WAR MUSICAL HERITAGE EVENT

An Uncivil Warby Jacquelyn Procter Reeves

SING ALONG!

Clement Claiborne Clay Leroy Pope Walker

The Presbyterian Church

Jefferson Davis

Dixie Daniel Decatur Emmett (1859)

3 of 6 verses

I wish I was in the land of cotton, Old times there are not forgotten; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. In Dixie’s Land where I was born in, Early on one frosty mornin, Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus:

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray! In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my standto live and die in Dixie. Away, away, away down south in Dixie. Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Old Missus marry “Will the weaver,” Willium was a gay deceiver; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. And when he put his arm around ‘er, He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder, Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus

Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter, Makes your fat a little fatter; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel, To Dixie’s Land I’m bound to travel. Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus

Colonel Egbert J. Jones

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Just Before the Battle MotherGeorge F. Root (1862)

Just before the battle, mother,I am thinking most of youWhile upon the field we're watching,with the enemy in view.Comrades brave are 'round me lying,filled with thoughts of home and GodFor well they know that on the morrow,some will sleep beneath the sod.

CHORUS:Farewell, mother, you may never, (You may never, Mother,)press me to your breast againBut, oh, you'll not forget me, mother, (you will not forget me)if I'm numbered with the slain.

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 airOh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard,or we'll perish nobly there.

The Vacant ChairHenry F. Washburn and George F. Root (1861)

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 chord 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 lonelyOften will the bosom swellAt remembrance of the story,How our noble Willie fell.How he strove to bear our bannerThrough the thickest of the fight,And uphold our country’s honor,In the strength of manhood’s might.

True, they tell us wreaths of gloryEver more will deck his brow,But this soothes the anguish only,Sweeping o’er our heartstrings now.Sleep today, Oh early fallen.In the green and narrow bed,Dirges from the pine and cypressMingle with the tears we shed.

Mary Jane Chadick

Third DivisionArmy of the Ohio

Major GeneralOrmsby McKnight Mitchel

Major GeneralLovell H. Rousseau

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You ask me why upon my breast Unchanged from day to dayLinked side by side in this broad bandI wear the Blue and Gray. I had two brothers long ago,Two brothers blithe and gay.One wore the suit of Northern blueAnd one of Southern gray. One heard the roll call of the SouthAnd linked his faith with Lee.The other bore the stars and stripesWith Sherman to the sea.

Each fought for what he thought was rightAnd fell with sword in handOne sleeps amid Virginia’s hills, And one in Georgia’s sands But the same sun shines on both their graves,O’er valley and o’er hill,And in the darkest of the hoursMy brothers they lie still. That is why upon my breastUnchanged from day to day,Linked side by side in this broad bandI wear the Blue and Gray.

Knot of Blue and GrayT. Brigham Bishop (1876)

as sung by Cathy Barton to the tune“The Wearing of the Green”

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Hard Times Come Again No MoreStephen Foster (1854)

As we pause in life's pleasures and count its many tearsLet us all taste the hungers of the poor.There's a song that will linger forever in our ears:Oh! Hard times, come again no more.

Chorus:‘Tis a song and a sigh of the weary.Hard times, hard times, come again no more.Many days you have lingered around my cabin door.Oh! Hard times, come again no more.

While we seek mirth, and beauty, and music light and gayThere are frail forms fainting at the door.Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say:Oh! Hard times, come again no more.Chorus

There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away,With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,Oh hard times come again no more.Chorus

Lt. Henry Figures

BG Edward Dorr Tracy

Col. Daniel Hundley

Gen. Edmund Pettus

MG David S. Stanley

The years creep slowly by, Lorena,The snow is on the ground again;The sun's low down the sky, Lorena,The frost gleams where the flowers have been.But the heart throbs on as warmly nowAs when the summer days were nigh;Oh, the sun can never dip so lowTo be 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 dayAnd hear the distant church bells chime.

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It matters little now, Lorena,The past is in the eternal past;Our hearts will soon lie low, Lorena,Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.There is a future, oh, thank God!Of life this is so small a part – 'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod.But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.

LorenaRev. Henry D. L. Webster (Lyrics - 1856)Joseph Philbrick Webster (Tune – 1857)

3 of 6 verses

Virginia Cabaniss

Jenkins Lloyd Jones

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Home Sweet Home (1822)John Howard Payne (Lyrics)

Sir Henry Bishop (Tune)

'Mid pleasures and palacesThough I may roamBe it ever so humbleThere's no place like home

A charm from the skySeems to hallow us thereWhich seek thro' the worldIs ne'er met with elsewhere

chorus:Home! Home!Sweet, sweet home!There's no place like homeThere's no place like home

To thee, I'll returnOverburdened with careThe heart's dearest solaceWill smile on me there

No more from that cottageA gain I will roamBe it ever so humbleThere's no place like home

(chorus)

Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest

BG Phillip Dale Roddey

Dixie Daniel Decatur Emmett (1859)

3 of 6 verses

I wish I was in the land of cotton, Old times there are not forgotten; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. In Dixie’s Land where I was born in, Early on one frosty mornin, Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus:

I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray! Hooray! In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my standto live and die in Dixie. Away, away, away down south in Dixie. Away, away, away down south in Dixie.

Old Missus marry “Will the weaver,” Willium was a gay deceiver; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. And when he put his arm around ‘er, He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder, Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus

Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter, Makes your fat a little fatter; Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel, To Dixie’s Land I’m bound to travel. Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land.

Chorus

Mary Jane Chadick

General Robert E. Lee

President Abraham Lincoln

Battle Hymn of the RepublicJulia Ward Howe (1861)

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 his fateful lightningof 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 firesof a hundred circling camps,They have builded Him an altarin the evening dews and damps, I can read his righteous sentencein the dim and daring lamps,His day is marching on

Chorus

I have read a fiery Gospelwrit in burnished rows of steel,"As ye deal with My condemnersso with you My grace shall deal,"Let the Hero born of womancrush the serpent with His heel,Since God is marching on

Chorus He has sounded forth the trumpetthat shall never call retreat,He is sitting out the hearts of menbefore His judgment seat,Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him!Be jubilant, my feet,Our God is marching on

Chorus

The Confederate Cemetery at Gainesville, AL

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When Johnny Comes Marching HomePatrick Gilmore (Lyrics, 1863)

When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah!We'll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah! Hurrah!The men will cheer and the boys will shoutThe ladies they will all turn outAnd 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 lassies sayWith roses they will strew the way,And we'll all feel gay,When Johnny comes marching home. Get ready for the Jubilee, Hurrah! Hurrah!We'll give the hero three times three, Hurrah! Hurrah!The laurel wreath is ready nowTo place upon his loyal browAnd we'll all feel gay,When Johnny comes marching home.