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Songs Special To
The Washington Artillery


We will sing of the boys who make the loudest noise,
And from fighting you can scarcely restrain them. Aha!
They have guns, howitzers, rifles, and other sorts of trifles,
To send soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Oh! ho ho! Ah, ha! ha!
The good times, boys, are a-coming;
Oh, never mind the weather, but get over double trouble
When you're bound for the "Happy Land of Canaan".

We will sing of Number One - he comes first upon the gun,
And works like a horse without complaining. Aha!
will let you know that he is not too slow
In sending soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Next comes Number Two. He has as much as he can do
To make the enemy think 'tis iron raining. Aha!
will let you know that he is not too slow
At sending soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Then comes Number Three, who, brisk as he can be,
His thumb upon the vent he's retaining. Aha!
will let you know that he is not too slow
At sending soldiers to the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Next comes Number Four, who, to make the matter sure,
Pulls the lanyard with a steady sort of straining. Aha!
And then, with loud report, King Death cries out "Come into court
If you're going to the 'Happy Land of Canaan'."

Next comes Number Five, who, to keep his game alive,
Proves his legs must have the right sort of training. Aha!
For, with cartridge in his pouch, you can see he's no slouch
At sending soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Then comes Number Six, who works hard his little tricks
For fear the others he'll be detaining. Aha!
And he knows - to help the fight - he must cut the fuses right
So as to send them to the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Next comes Number Seven, to whom important place is given;
Like Five, his legs must have the right sort of training. Aha!
For both of them must run 'tween the limber and the gun
If they're going to the "Happy Land of Canaan".

And here's to Number Eight, who with patience has to wait,
Though in this he's slightly given to complaining. Aha!
So he helps our Number Six, with all his little tricks
At sending soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

Now it never would be right if the Corporal we should slight,
For he's the bully boy that does the aiming. Aha!
With his screw and his trail, we hope he'll never fail
At sending soldiers past the "Happy Land of Canaan".

But what are we about? We have left the Sergeant out;
No doubt of this slight he'll be complaining. Aha!
But he's a sort of Boss, you know, and we keep him more for show
Than sending soldiers to the "Happy Land of Canaan".


By Chas. E. Caylat
Private, 1st Company - Washington Artillery
A 24-year-old clerk when he left Louisiana for the war in Virginia in 1861
Dedicated to "Gen. J. Bankhead Magruder, C.S.A."

Mount, mount, and speed away to Louisiana's prairies wide,
Th' avenging sword is our sceptre, the fleet steed our pride;
Raise up! Our "Lone Star Flag", let its single Star gleam out,
Mount! mount! and speed away, put the Yan-kees to route!

Hurrah! hurrah! for Southern Rights, hurrah!
Hurrah! for the Texan flag, that bears the Lone Star.

We care not for danger, nor heed the vile Northern foe,
Where e'er our brave steeds bear us, right onward we will go;
And ne'er, as Yankees, can we "skedaddle" from the fight,
While our hands wield the sword, and our Star sheds its light.

Spoken - (Forward! Counter-march, by file right! march!)

Delay not, but speed away, give the fleet steed the rein,
The Texan bold is to the Rescue, the Battle again,
Dash on! to Berwick's Bay; rush quickly to the fight,
Cry "Vengeance for Mumford!" and may God speed the right.

The Yankee vandal hordes, gather thick on our way,
They hear our defiant shout, as we rush to the fray;
What's to us the fear of Manasseh's death-stricken Plain,
"We have brav'd it before, and will brave it again!"
(Skirmish on the route)

Spoken - (Get ready! Fire!
Br-r rang! bang! bang ---bang!)

The death dealing bullets all around us may fall,
They may strike, they may kill, but they cannot appall,
Through battles we'll follow Magruder and 'venge "Stonewall,"
While our breast bears a true heart, and our guns carry ball.

Hurrah! my boys, Hurrah! we're governed by whom we please,
No abhorred Yankee banner now floats in the breeze.
'Tis SECESSIA'S Flag that waves o'er Galveston's height,
And on its glorious folds our Lone Star sheds its light.

(Skirmish at Berwick Bay.
Spoken - Get ready! Fire! Br-r-rang! bang! bang! -- bang!
Spoken - Head of column! to the left! march!)

Urge your horses swiftly on, give the fleet steed the rein,
The Texan bold is to the Rescue, the Battle again,
Rush on to New Orleans; rush bravely to the fight,
Cry "Vengeance for the South!" and God will speed the right.


And here's a Tiger for the brave, and noble little band,
Which stood the fight and bravely drove the Yankees all away;
At SUMTER thrice they maintained and kept a gallant stand,
And lastly made the storming hordes skedaddle in dismay.

Hurray! hurray! for the Sumter boys, Hurray!
Hurray for the Sumter boys, who brick-batt'd them all away!

Henry Carey

Of all the girls that are so smart, there's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart, and she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land that's half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father, he makes cabbage nets and through the streets does cry 'em;
Her mother, she sells laces long to such as please to buy 'em.
But sure such folks could ne'er beget so sweet a girl as Sally!
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our alley.

When she is by, I leave my work, I love her so sincerely;
My master comes like any Turk, and bangs me most severely.
But let him bang his belly full - I'll bear it all for Sally.
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that's in the week, I dearly love but one day,
And that's the day that comes betwixt a Saturday and Monday;
For then I'm drest all in my best to walk abroad with Sally.
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church, and often I am blamed
Because I leave him in the lurch as soon as text is named.
I leave the church in sermon-time and slink away to Sally;
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again, O, then I shall have money;
I'll hoard it up and box it all, I'll give it to my honey.
I would it were ten thousand pound - I'd give it all to Sally.
She is the darling - is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbors all make game of me and Sally;
And, but for her, I'd better be a slave and row a galley.
But when my seven long years are out, O, then I'll marry Sally -
O, then we'll wed - then we'll wed, and then we'll bed -
But not in our alley!

The original tune and the words to SALLY IN OUR ALLY were written by English composer and playwright Henry Carey, one of many songs in a play he also wrote. SALLY IN OUR ALLEY was published in 1726.  According to Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, Carey's original melody was replaced around 1760 by "a much older ballad-tune": THE COUNTRY LASS. The melody of THE COUNTRY LASS was the vehicle by which SALLY IN OUR ALLEY became popular in America in the 18th century, and again in a revival of the play in the mid-19th century.  

Chappell offers a story behind the ballad. Chappell asserts that a shoemaker's apprentice was on holiday in England with his sweetheart. He took her to see the sights, including Bedlam, puppet shows, and Moorfields. Taking the perspective of the Unseen Seer, Carey followed them throughout the day and wrote the ballad based on their 'sketch of nature.'

Though the ballad became popular, Carey was ridiculed by other composers for the ballad. Several other sets of lyrics were written to Carey's tune, including:

Sally's Lamentation
The Answer to Sally

What pity 'tis so bright a thought
Should e'er become so common;
At ev'ry corner brought to naught
By ev'ry bawling woman.
I little thought when you began
To write of charming Sally,
That ev'ry brat - that ev'ry brat would sing so soon,
"She lives in our alley."

Words By C.E. McCarty
July 1864

The cannoneers are slumbering on the hillside,
The eastern sky is bright with dawning day;
When, springing gaily from his clover pillow,
The bugler sounds the stirring reveille.
Awake! Awake! The God of day is rising,
The trembling dewdrops sparkle in each ray;
The distant picket
's rifle gives a warning,
The "Fifth" must strike for liberty today!

Hurrah! Hurrah! We struggle for the right,
From hill to hill resounding, the battle cry is sounding.
Hurrah! Hurrah! We
're ready for the fight!
A grave or victory!

Now when the deadly struggle rages wildest,
Where shell and shrapnel burst amid the roar,
Our good "Napoleons" bellow forth in anger
And drop the fierce invaders by the score.
Again! Again! For God and Louisiana,
Ram home the charge with energy of hate,
Now give them our swift canister for Mumford,
And - every gun - for Order Twenty-Eight!

Dear Louisiana! By thy waters weeping,
Insulted women watch with tearful eyes;
From ruined homes and desecrated altars,
A cry for vengeance gathers to the sky.
On every field our gallant boys are sleeping,
Their blood hath flown our liberties to save;
And, drop for drop, we
'll force it from the foeman 
Or dying, sweetly sleep in Freedom's grave!

Penned by C.E. McCarty on July 15th, 1864 in Atlanta, Georgia, the title of the song is indeed SONG OF THE FIFTH and is subtitled "Written for the 5th Company - Washington Artillery". The song may be sung to the melody of CHEER, BOYS, CHEER!

The references to "Mumford" and "Order Twenty-Eight" are references to the actions of Federal General Benjamin Butler. Federal Ddmiral Farragut and his Marines raised the Federal flag over the New Orleans branch of the United States Mint, taking possession of the city of New Orleans. Five days later, General Benjamin Butler marched into New Orleans to rule the city under martial law. Butler would rule the city for the next eight months.

Many citizens of lower Louisiana openly displayed their contempt for the Federal troops, the Federal occupation of their land, and Butler himself. Their resentment stemmed not only from the fact that a foreign invader had taken over their native land, but to Butler's orders regarding treating the Federal flag with respect; his orders requiring the citizenry to show courtesy and deference to Federal troops; and his prohibition of their even singing songs deemed "treasonable" by the Federals.

William Mumford, a New Orleanian, showed his contempt for the Federal occupation troops by entering the New Orleans branch of the United States Mint and lowering the Federal flag. For that offense, Butler had Mumford hanged.

As a result of the contempt with which Federal officers and sodiers were treated by the ladies of New Orleans in particular, Benjamin Butler was to issue "Order Twenty-Eight", an order that earned him the nickname "Beast" Butler from P.G.T. Beauregard, and soon all other Southrons. The order read as follows:

As the officers and soldiers of the United States have been subject to repeated insult from the women (calling themselves ladies) of New Orleans, in return for the most scrupulous non-interference and courtesy on our part, it is ordered that hereafter when any female shall, by word, gesture, or movement, insult or show contempt for any officer or soldier of the United States, she shall be regarded and held liable to be treated as a woman of the town plying her avocation.

In other words, the ladies of New Orleans who failed to treat the Federal officers or soldiers as gentleman would find that, not only was their good name as "ladies" forfeit, but they were to be treated as common prostitutes, subject to the indignities of public insult and arrest.


By The Washington Artillery Of New Orleans
On The Occasion Of The Dedication
Of The Washington Artillery Arsenal Building

Our maiden banner courts the wind;
Its stars are beamin' over us.
Each radiant fold now unconfined
Is floating here before us.
It bears a motto proud and high
To those who dare defy us.
And loud shall peal our slogan cry
Whene'er they come to "TRY US!"

The hallowed ray that freedom gave us
To cheer the gloom that bound us,
And shone in beauty over the brave
Still brightly beams around us.
The day our fathers bravely won
Shall long be greeted by us,
And loudly through our ranks shall peal
The gallant war cry "TRY US!"

Words By D.G. Knight
Music By A.E. Blackmar

The shades of night were falling fast - Tra la la! Tra la la!
The bugler blew his well known blast - Tra la la la la la!
No matter be there rain or snow, that bugler still is bound to blow.

Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de! Up-i-da!
Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de-i-da!

He saw, as in their bunks they lay - Tra la la! Tra la la!
How soldiers spent the dawning day - Tra la la la la la!
"There's too much comfort there," said he, 
"And so I'll blow the 'Reveille'."

In nice log huts he saw the light - Tra la la! Tra la la!
Of cabin fires, warm and bright - Tra la la la la la!
The sight afforded him no heat,
And so he sounded the 'Retreat'.

Upon the fire he spied a pot - Tra la la! Tra la la!
Choicest viands smoking hot - Tra la la la la la!
Says he, "You shan't enjoy the stew,"
So 'Boots And Saddles' loudly blew.

They scarce their half-cooked meal begin - Tra la la! Tra la la!
Ere orderly cries out, "Fall in!" - Tra la la la la la!
Then off they march through mud and rain,
P'raps only to march back again.

But soldiers, you are made to fight - Tra la la! Tra la la!
To starve all day and march all night - Tra la la la la la!
Perchance, if you get bread and meat,
That bugler will not let you eat.

Oh hasten then , that glorious day - Tra la la! Tra la la!
When buglers shall no longer play - Tra la la la la la!
When we, through Peace, shall be set free
From 'Tattoo', 'Taps', and 'Reveille'.