Were they French or English, ask you? Oh, neither, neither, child! We were at peace with other lands, and all the nations smiled On the stars and stripes, wherever they floated far and free, And all the foes we had to meet we found this side the sea.
But even between brothers bitter feuds will sometimes rise, And ’twas the cloud of civil war that darkened in the skies; I have not time to tell you how the quarrel first began, Or how it grew, till o’er our land the strife like wildfire ran.
I will not use hard words, my boys, for I am old and gray, And I’ve learned it is an easy thing for the best to go astray; Some wrong there was on either part, I do not doubt at all; There are two sides to a quarrel—be it great or be it small!
You scarce believe me, children. Grief and doubt are in your eyes, Fixed steadily upon me in wonder and surprise; Don’t forget to thank our Father, when to-night you kneel to pray, That an undivided people rule America to-day.
We were stationed at Fort Moultrie—but about a mile away, The battlements of Sumter stood proudly in the bay; ’Twas by far the best position, as he could not help but know, Our gallant Major Anderson, just fifty years ago.
Yes, ’twas just after Christmas, fifty years ago to-night; The sky was calm and cloudless, the moon was large and bright; At six o’clock the drum beat to call us to parade, And not a man suspected the plan that had been laid.
But the first thing a soldier learns is that he must obey, And that when an order’s given he has not a word to say; So when told to man the boats, not a question did we ask, But silently, yet eagerly, began our hurried task.
We did a deal of work that night, though our numbers were but few; We had all our stores to carry, and our ammunition too; And the guard-ship—’twas the Nina—set to watch us in the bay, Never dreamed what we were doing, though ’twas almost light as day.
We spiked the guns we left behind, and cut the flag-staff down,— From its top should float no colors if it might not hold our own,— Then we sailed away for Sumter as fast as we could go, With our good Major Anderson, just fifty years ago.
I never can forget, my boys, how the next day, at noon, The drums beat and the band played a stirring martial tune, And silently we gathered round the flag-staff, strong and high, Forever pointing upward to God’s temple in the sky.