The Victory Won at Richmond



The southern boys may longer lie

On the first and fourth of sweet July

Our General Beauregard resound

For his southern boys at Richmond.



That night we laid on the cold ground

No tents nor shelter could be found

With rain and hail was nearly drowned

To cheer our hearts at Richmond.



Next morn the burning sun did rise

Beneath the cloudy eastern skies

Our general viewed the forts and cried

"We'll have hot work at Richmond!"

As soon as the height we strove to gain

Our balls did fly as thick as rain

I'm sure the plains they did run red

With the blood that was shed at Richmond.



As soon as the heights we did command

We fought the Yankees hand to hand

And many a hero there was slain

On the plains at Richmond.



And many a pretty fair maid will mourn

For her lover who will ne'er return

And parents mourn beyond control

For their sons they lost at Richmond.

Thirty thousand Yankees, I heard them say

Were slain all on that fatal day

And seven thousand Southerners lay

In the bloody gore at Richmond.



Their guns and knapsacks they threw down

And ran like hares before the hounds

I'm sure the plains they did run red

With the blood that was shed at Richmond.

Cease, you Southerners, from your hand

Which from Yankees we cannot stand

Go spread the news throughout the land

Of the victory that was won at Richmond.



From Folksongs of the South, Cox

@America @Civil @war @battle @Confederate

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