| "Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!" | |
|---|---|
Sheet music cover, 1864
| |
| Song | |
| Written | 1864 |
| Published | 1864 |
| Genre | War song |
| Songwriter(s) | George F. Root |
"Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! (The Prisoner's Hope)" was one of the most popular songs of the American Civil War. George F. Root wrote both the words and music and published it in 1864 to give hope to the Union prisoners of war.[1] The song is written from the prisoner's point of view. The chorus tells his fellow prisoners that hope is coming. A Confederate version and various other versions have been made.
In the prison cell I sit, thinking Mother, dear, of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears they fill my eyes 'spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching,
Cheer up comrades they will come,
And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again,
Of the free land in our own beloved home.[2]
In the battle front we stood, when their fiercest charge they made,
And they swept us off a hundred men or more,
But before we reached their lines, they were beaten back dismayed,
And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching,
Cheer up comrades they will come,
And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again,
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
So within the prison cell we are waiting for the day
That shall come to open wide the iron door.
And the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor heart almost gay,
As we think of seeing home and friends once more.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! The boys are marching,
Cheer up comrades they will come,
And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again,
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
In addition to the original version, soldiers of the Confederate States of America made their own lyrics to the tune. The Confederate lyrics revolve around General Lee's Army of Northern Virginia invading Pennsylvania, following which prisoners held in Northern prison camps shall be liberated.[3]
In my prison cell I sit,
thinking, Mother, dear, of you,
and my happy Southern home so far away;
and my eyes they fill with tears
'spite of all that I can do,
though I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
In the battle front we stood
when their fiercest charge they made,
and our soldiers by the thousands sank to die;
but before they reached our lines,
they were driven back dismayed,
and the "Rebel yell" went upward to the sky.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
Now our great commander Lee
crosses broad Potomac's stream,
and his legions marching Northward take their way.
On Pennsylvania's roads
will their trusty muskets gleam,
and her iron hills shall echo to the fray.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
In the cruel stockade-pen
dying slowly day by day,
for weary months we've waited all in vain;
but if God will speed the way
of our gallant boys in gray,
I shall see your face, dear Mother, yet again.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
When I close my eyes in sleep,
all the dear ones 'round me come,
at night my little sister to me calls;
and mocking visions bring
all the warm delights of home,
while we freeze and starve in Northern prison walls.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
So the weary days go by,
and we wonder as we sigh,
if with sight of home we'll never more be blessed.
Our hearts within us sink,
and we murmur, though we try
to leave it all with him who knowest best.
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!
The boys are marching;
cheer up, comrades, they will come.
And beneath the stars and bars
we shall breathe the air again
of free men in our own beloved home.
The song has been parodied and the melody has been repurposed numerous times:
Ohio Abolitionist Joshua McCarter Simpson rewrote the lyrics.
