Читать книгу Campfire and Battlefield - John Clark Ridpath - Страница 37

THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM.

George F. Root was born in Sheffield, Mass., August 30, 1820, and he was the founder of the music-publishing firm of Root & Cady. His celebrated "Battle Cry of Freedom" was first sung by the Hutchinson family at a mass meeting in New York City. It is said that during the terrible fight in the Wilderness, on May 6, 1864, a brigade of the Ninth Corps, having broken the enemy's line by an assault, became exposed to a flank attack and was driven back in disorder with heavy loss. They retreated but a few hundred yards, however, re-formed, and again confronted the enemy. Just then some gallant fellows in the ranks of the Forty-fifth Pennsylvania began to sing:

"We'll rally round the flag, boys, rally once again, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom."

The refrain was caught up instantly by the entire regiment and by the Thirty-sixth Massachusetts, next in line. There the grim ranks stood at bay in the deadly conflict. The air was filled with the smoke and crackle of burning underbrush, the pitiful cries of the wounded, the rattle of musketry, and shouts of men; but above all, over the exultant yells of the enemy, rose the inspiring chorus:

"The Union forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah! Down with the traitor, up with the star."

This song was often ordered to be sung as the men marched into action. More than once its strains arose on the battlefield. With the humor which never deserts the American, even amid the hardships of camp life and the dangers of battle, the gentle lines of "Mary Had a Little Lamb" were fitted to the tune of the "Battle Cry of Freedom," and many a regiment shortened a weary march, or went gayly into action, singing:

"Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom."

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. The Union forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah! Down with the traitor, 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, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom; And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. We will welcome to our numbers the loyal true and brave, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom; And although they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom; And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love the best, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. The Union forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah! Down with the traitor, up with the star; While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

TENTING ON THE OLD CAMP-GROUND.

The author of "Tenting on the Old Camp-Ground" is Walter Kittridge, who was born in the town of Merrimac, N. H., October 8, 1832. He was a public singer and a composer, as well as a writer of popular songs and ballads. In the first year of the civil war he published a small original "Union Song-Book." In 1862 he was drafted, and while preparing to go to the front he wrote in a few minutes both words and music of "Tenting on the Old Camp-Ground." Like many other good things in literature, this song was at first refused publication. But when it was published, its sale reached hundreds of thousands of copies.

We're tenting to-night on the old camp-ground, Give us a song to cheer Our weary hearts, a song of home And friends we love so dear. CHORUS: Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, Wishing for the war to cease; Many are the hearts looking for the right, To see the dawn of peace; Tenting to-night, tenting to-night, Tenting on the old camp-ground. We've been tenting to-night on the old camp-ground, Thinking of the days gone by; Of the loved ones at home, that gave us the hand, And the tear that said, Good-by! We are tired of war on the old camp-ground; Many are dead and gone Of the brave and true who've left their homes; Others have been wounded long. We've been fighting to-day on the old camp-ground; Many are lying near; Some are dead, and some are dying, Many are in tears!