Sung by: Jimmy Driftwood

Click here to listen to the original recording

(Mr. Driftwood: “Now I want to do a little practice on a song that I’ll be singing, one of the numbers I’ll be doing at the World’s Fair. I hope you like it. I guess you know what it is. What do you think it is? Ah, one man’s a good guesser.”)

In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip.
We took a little bacon, and we took a little beans,
We met the bloody British near the town of New Orleans.

Chorus: We fired our guns, and the British kept a-coming.
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago.
We fired once more, and they began to running,
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

I seed Mars Jackson a-walking down the street,
Talking to a private by the name of Jean LaFitte.
He gave Jean a drink that he brought from Tennessee,
And the private said he'd help 'em drive the British to the sea.

The French said, "Andrew, you’d better run,
For Packingham's a-coming with a bullet in his gun."
Old Hickory said he didn’t give a damn.
He was a-gonna rip the britches off of Colonel Packingham.


We looked down the river, and we seed the British come.
Well, there must a-been a hundred of ‘em beating on the drum.
They stepped so high, and they made their bugles ring,
While we stood beside our cotton bales, didn’t say a thing.

Old Hickory said we could take ‘em by surprise
If we didn’t fire our muskets ‘til we looked ‘em in the eyes.
We held our fire ‘til we seed their faces well.
Then we opened up our squirrel guns and really gave ‘em hell.


We fired our cannon ‘til the barrel melted down,
So we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round.
We filled his head with cannonballs and powdered his behind,
And when we touched the powder off, the gator lost his mind.

We’ll march back home, but we’ll never be content
‘Til we make Old Hickory the people's president,
And every time we think about the bacon and the beans,
We’ll think about the fun we had way down in New Orleans.


Well, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles,
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go.
They ran so fast the hounds couldn’t catch ‘em,
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.


All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
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