Little History by Jim Haney, Jr.
From my earliest memories, back in the Fifties, I was aware that my ancestors had fought in the American Civil War.

There was a room upstairs at my great uncle Albert Bell’s Sarpy County, Nebraska farmhouse which contained my great-great Grandfather Will Bell’s cavalry saber, two battle drums, two Springfield rifles, some cannon balls- a Sharps carbine, his bayonet, and a .36 caliber Navy Colt pistol. We knew he had been a cavalryman, in the Fifth Iowa Cavalry, and a dispatch rider. The story handed down to us was that he had been sabered in a battle and had lost an eye in the fight.

Two years ago, I drew my dad’s name for a Christmas gift. Bought him a copy of ‘Southern Storm’, by Noah Andre Trudeau, a new book about Sherman’s March to the Sea during the Civil War. While reading the bibliography, I saw that one of the sources named was ‘Tramps and Triumphs of the Second Iowa Infantry’ by John T. Bell. My ancestor’s brother. My great great great uncle.

One thing led to another, and we discovered that Uncle John T. Bell was the author of at least five books of history, two about the Civil War. Due to the wonders of the Internet, we were able to obtain copies of those John Bell books, including ‘Tramps and Triumphs’. In places in his dry dispassionate military history, he expresses his-and the other Volunteers’ belief- that common men fought and died for four terrible years –not to preserve the Union- but to end the terrible institution of Slavery.

Because it was wrong.

Hence the inspiration-and title- for our fourth album, ‘Tramps and Triumphs’.

Tramps & Triumphs
music traditional, arrangement & lyrics by Jim Haney
3.28

Ye fighting men of North and South
I'd have your ear my friends
A story of valor and courage told
True to meet my ends
Some volunteer lads from Iowa
Minnesota and Nebrask'
Who broke the cruel slaver's chains
Let's all hoist a flask!

(chorus)
We fought like Hell and rang the bell
Of Liberty for all
These are the tramps and triumphs of
The Second Iowa

In that cold winter of '62,
The blizzards they did blow
On board of a big side-wheeler
All the way from Old St. Lou,
We disembarked at Cairo
To the battle sounds we marched
We charged the Rebs at Donelson,
Old Sam, he tipped his hat

We stood firm at the Hornet's Nest
General Johnston was laid low
Wallace was late and good men died
At the church they called Shiloh
The Rebs, they fought and charged four times
And the Rebel cannon roared
But they doffed their caps
To those that were left
Of the Second Iowa

We tramped on down to Corinth town
And battled the Boys in Grey
We fought for Battery Robinett
And we raised our tattered flag
Headed South with Uncle Bill
Fighting all the way
When Savannah fell
They cheered full well
For the Second Iowa

Foxhunters/Cripple Creek
traditional
3.24

Stewball
traditional
3.40

Old Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He only drank wine

I rode him in England,
I rode him in Spain
And I'll bet you five dollar
I'll ride him again

His bridle was silver
And his mane it was gold
And the worth of his saddle
Has never been told

The fairgrounds was crowded
And Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
On the bay and the mare

They're out there a'runnin'
About half way around
When the gray mare she stumbled
She fell on the ground

Then away up yonder
Ahead of them all
Come a'prancin' and a'dancin'
My noble Stewball

I bet on the gray mare
I bet on the bay
If I'd a bet on old Stewball
Be a free man today

The hoot owl she hollered
The turtle dove moaned
I'm a poor boy in trouble
I'm a long way from home

Old Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine
He never drank water
He only drank wine

Jiggery Pokerwork
Ships in Full Sail/Jiggery Pokerwork/Brother John
Jiggery Pokerwork permission granted by John Spiers, Fellsongs Publishing
3.58

Summerfly
written by Cheryl Wheeler, Bug Music Publishing
3.41

In another younger day, I could dream the time away
In the universe inside my room.
And the world was really mine from June until September
And if it wasn't really so, well I was lucky not to know,
And I was lucky not to wonder why
'Cause the the summer time is all that I remember.

Summerfly was buzzing every night when I was young,
In the gentle world my child-like senses knew
When the world was just my cousin
And the wind was just the tone,
In the voice my lonely moments listened to.

And I look at me today and the dreams have gone away,
And I am where I never thought I would be,
Seeing things I never thought I would see
Happening to me.
And I lay awake at night, while the darkness turns to light,
Hearing voices calling out my name,
Droning over again the same message to me:

Crying who's your partner, who's your darling,
Who's your baby, now?
Who wakes up at night to pull you in?
Well it don't matter, you'll just make her
Lonely anyhow,
I don't know why you even try to win.

Annie Maquire’s Silver Wedding
permission granted by John McCusker PRS/MCPS Publishing
6.12

Rakes of Fargo
Rakes of Fargo/Dubuque
Rakes of Fargo by Jason Thorstad/ Dubuque traditional
3.38

Meeting is a Pleasure
traditional
4.36

Meeting is a pleasure
Between my love and I
And it's down in yonder valley
I will meet her by and by.

It's down in yonder valley
I will meet her by and by
And it's with you, Lovely Molly
I will stay 'til the broad daylight

While going to Mass on Sunday,
My true love, she passed me by
And I knew her mind had altered
By the roving of her eye.

I knew her mind had altered
By the roving of her eye,
And it's farewell, Lovely Molly,
Your thoughts have wounded me.

I stepped up to my own true love
With a bottle in my hand
Saying take you, Lovely Molly
For our courtship is at it's end.

Saying drink you off the top
Leave the bottom unto me
For there's wagers laid, and money made
That it's married we ne'er shall be.

So never marry a fair young maid
With a blue and a roving eye
Just take her in your arms
And don't you tell her the reason why.

Just take her in your arms until
You feel her heart to yield
For a faint-hearted soldier
Will never gain the field.

So fare-thee-well to McCuskey Braes
That place I shall ne'er see more
And fare-thee-well to the Banna Strand
I know I'll ne'er see ye no more

For Americay lies far away
A place I shall soon go see,
And a curse upon the Kerryman who
Has parted my love and I.

Up with the Petticoats
The Smiling Little Man/Up with the Petticoats
written by Jason Thorstad
2.24

Malahide Castle
words and music by Don Rice
3.11

Chorus:
He stands there in Dublin Like Malahide Castle
Unmoving, unchanging For 400 years
And he wished he’d been better to her through the decades
Thank God for the whisky which makes him see clear

And the dwellers at Newgrange
They watched him
Through the haze of their crystal ball
And they wondered why he wasn’t one of them
In the depths of their earth-covered dome.

And every ritual they had there
Called ahead to his hidden name
And the trios of circles prefigured his life
And pointed him back home again

Chorus

He tried to step over the juggler
As he slept in the temple bar
He fell and knocked over the piper
Hit his head as he tumbled down

Now he floats into space around Dublin
And touches the stars spinning round
He hopes to come back for one more pint
And one more chorus of dirty old town

Chorus

He walked with the sheep around Tara
And put his hand on the magical stone
They circled around him pushing him down
Made a meal out of him truth be told

Now his essence is spread over Ireland
He is part of the emerald isle
The sheep made sure he would stay there forever
Or at least for a very long while

Chorus

Merry Blacksmith Reels
The Merry Blacksmith/The New Rigged Ship/Mrs. Margaret MacDonald's Delight
traditional
3.28

Sally Garden
traditional
3.18

Down by the Salley Gardens,
My love and I did meet,
She passed the Salley Gardens
With her little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy,
As the leaves grow on the trees,
But I, being young and foolish,
With her I would not agree.

In a filed down by the river
My love and I did stand.
And on my leaning shoulder
She laid her snow-white hand

She bid me take life easy,
As the grass grows on the weir,
But I was young and foolish,
And now I am full of tears.

Keel Row Slide & Polkas
Keel Row/Gan Ainm/Skipton Road
traditional
2.57

Vicksburg
text traditional, music by Jason Thorstad
6.12

On Vicksburg's globes and bloody ground
A dying soldier lay,
His thoughts were on his happy home,
Some thousand miles away.

Oh comrades dear, come close to me,
My heart's with you today,
Come hear the word I have to send
Some thousand miles away,

An' when you meet my mother dear,
Be careful how you speak,
The cords of life are almost run,
Her heart may be too weak,

An' there's another so dear to me,
She's gentle as a moonbeam
She lives behind yon distant glow,
Down by the murmurin' stream,

An' when I'm dead take this here ring
An' bear it to yon shore,
Tell to her 'tis the gift of one
Who sleeps to wake no more,

An' here's a tress her own hand gave,
With it I never shall part,
An' when I'm dead don't you forget
To press it to my heart,

The blood fast trickled down his side,
A tear stood in his eye,
He sighed, I ne'er shall see thee more,
Sweet maid, before I die.
Oh comrades dear, come close my eyes,
An' make for me my last cold bed,
Before the mornin' sun shall rise
I shall be numbered amongst the dead.