An Uncivil War CIVIL WAR MUSICAL HERITAGE EVENT SING ALONG! 1864 – 2014 AMERICAN CIVIL WAR SESQUICENTENNIAL CIVIL WAR MUSICAL HERITAGE EVENT An Uncivil War by Jacquelyn Procter Reeves SING ALONG!

Clement Claiborne Clay Leroy Pope Walker

The Presbyterian Church Jefferson Davis

Daniel Decatur Emmett (1859) 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, Chorus: I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray!  Hooray! In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand to live and die 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, Chorus Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter, Makes your fat a little fatter; Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel, To Dixie’s Land I’m bound to travel.

Colonel Egbert J. Jones

Just Before the Battle Mother George F. Root (1862)   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, (You may never, Mother,) press me to your breast again But, 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 air Oh, yes, we'll rally 'round the standard, or we'll perish nobly there.

Henry F. Washburn and George F. Root (1861) The Vacant Chair Henry 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. 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 Through the thickest of the fight, And uphold our country’s honor, In the strength of manhood’s might. True, they tell us wreaths of glory Ever 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 cypress Mingle with the tears we shed.

Ormsby McKnight Mitchel Third Division Army of the Ohio Mary Jane Chadick Major General Ormsby McKnight Mitchel Major General Lovell H. Rousseau

as sung by Cathy Barton to the tune “The Wearing of the Green” Knot of Blue and Gray T. Brigham Bishop (1876) as sung by Cathy Barton to the tune “The Wearing of the Green” You ask me why upon my breast Unchanged from day to day Linked side by side in this broad band I wear the Blue and Gray.   I had two brothers long ago, Two brothers blithe and gay. One wore the suit of Northern blue And one of Southern gray. One heard the roll call of the South And linked his faith with Lee. The other bore the stars and stripes With Sherman to the sea. Each fought for what he thought was right And fell with sword in hand One 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 hours My brothers they lie still. That is why upon my breast Unchanged from day to day, Linked side by side in this broad band I wear the Blue and Gray.

Hard Times Come Again No More Stephen Foster (1854) As we pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears Let 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 gay There 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 Col. Daniel Hundley BG Edward Dorr Tracy Gen. Edmund Pettus Lt. Henry Figures MG David S. Stanley

Lorena Rev. Henry D. L. Webster (Lyrics - 1856) Joseph Philbrick Webster (Tune – 1857) 3 of 6 verses 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 now As when the summer days were nigh; Oh, the sun can never dip so low To 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 day And hear the distant church bells chime. 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. 13

Virginia Cabaniss Jenkins Lloyd Jones

John Howard Payne (Lyrics) Sir Henry Bishop (Tune) Home Sweet Home (1822) John Howard Payne (Lyrics) Sir Henry Bishop (Tune) 'Mid pleasures and palaces Though I may roam Be it ever so humble There's no place like home A charm from the sky Seems to hallow us there Which seek thro' the world Is ne'er met with elsewhere chorus: Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home There's no place like home To thee, I'll return Overburdened with care The heart's dearest solace Will smile on me there No more from that cottage A gain I will roam Be it ever so humble There's no place like home (chorus)

Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest BG Phillip Dale Roddey

Daniel Decatur Emmett (1859) 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, Chorus: I wish I was in Dixie, Hooray!  Hooray! In Dixie’s Land I’ll take my stand to live and die 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, Chorus Dar’s buckwheat cakes an Injun batter, Makes your fat a little fatter; Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel, To Dixie’s Land I’m bound to travel.

President Abraham Lincoln Mary Jane Chadick President Abraham Lincoln General Robert E. Lee

Battle Hymn of the Republic Julia 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 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 in the dim and daring lamps, His day is marching on Chorus I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel, "As ye deal with My condemners so with you My grace shall deal," Let the Hero born of woman crush the serpent with His heel, Since God is marching on Chorus He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat, He is sitting out the hearts of men before 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

When Johnny Comes Marching Home Patrick 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 shout The ladies they will all turn out 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 lassies say With roses they will strew the way, 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