A Valentine Post– Songs of the Seventh: “Sweet Girl I Left Behind Me”

I must have been eight years old and in the third grade when I read my first Custer biography. Several memories of that book remain, but one is the mention of the song “Sweet Girl I Left Behind Me.” It was played by the 7^th Cavalry’s regimental band as the column paraded out from Fort Abraham Lincoln to begin its campaign against Sioux, Cheyenne and others deemed as ‘hostiles’ in the spring of 1876.

Knowing the outcome of that campaign, at least for Custer and five of his cavalry troops, I assumed at that young age that the song was a sad melody with melancholy words to match. Over time I’ve read numerous references to that song being played by the 7^th’s band as many wives and sweethearts were left behind. Possibly one reference that colored all others had come from a memoir written by Custer’s widow, Elizabeth Custer.

First, remember that Custer and his wife were deeply infatuated with each other throughout their relatively short marriage. As a widow Mrs. Custer remained unmarried. She spent her remaining life maintaining and defending the grand image of the man she so greatly admired — and to whom she was so strongly attached. In May 1876 she was allowed to ride beside her husband as his regiment left Fort Abraham Lincoln on what, for many, would be their final campaign. In her memoir Boots and Saddles she described the departure,

“. . . we came near Laundress Row, and there my heart entirely failed me. The wives and children of the soldiers lined the road. Mothers, with streaming eyes, held their little ones out at arm’s-length for one last look at the departing father. . .Unfettered by conventional restrictions, and indifferent to the opinions of others, the grief of these women was audible, and was accompanied by the desponding gestures, dictated by their bursting hearts and expressions of their abandoned grief.”

In regard to the common marching-out song as the troops passed the officers’ quarters, Libby Custer went on, “. . . when our band struck up ‘The Girl I Left Behind Me,’ the most despairing hour seemed to have come. All the sad-faced wives of the officers who had forced themselves to their doors to try and wave a courageous farewell, and smile bravely to keep the ones they loved from knowing the anguish of their breaking hearts, gave up the struggle at the sound of the music. The first notes made them disappear to fight out alone their trouble . . .”

It must have been references like Mrs. Custer’s that made me perceive that song as a sad one. I assumed it was melancholy until I became curious enough to research its words and melody. Now, Valentine’s Day serves as a prompt for me to post something about what was one of the Seventh Cavalry’s cherished chunks of music.

It turns out that song was hardly slow or sad at all. In fact, it’s a pretty spirited tune and one that most of us would recognize. The song has a long and well traveled history. Many variations on its words can be found, and the melody lends itself to improvisation. Much improvising has occurred over the song’s three- to four-hundred-year history. The one aspect that has stayed the same is its old, familiar tune.

When one envisions marching troops, either British or Continentals, during America’s Revolution, he or she can almost hear drums beating in the background and fifes playing a spirited tune. In film, that tune almost invariably is “Sweet Girl I Left Behind Me.” It comes to mind whenever I see or envision the old painting “Spirit of ’76.” The song undoubtedly got a workout during America’s Revolution that started 250 years ago. With Custer’s flamboyance and love for pageantry, the song undoubtedly saw heavy use 150 years ago as well.

For those wanting a more visual and audible reference, click on the following links:

Some sources say the song might have originated in 1758 when British admirals were setting forth against French ships. Others say the song may have even originated as far back as the 1650’s. The tune made its way to Cornwall and Ireland, where it was readily adopted and adapted. One Irish version had the name “An Spailpín Fánach,” meaning “The Wandering Laborer,” and a version in English ends with “. . . my heart falls back to Erin’s isle, to the girl I left behind me.” (In about a month I’ll post regarding another of the Seventh’s favorite songs, along with the strong Irish influence in the Union Army and the Seventh Cavalry.)

The song saw use by both opponents in the American Civil War. Lyrics were adapted to ridicule the other side and its leaders while elevating its own. Sadly, like today’s liberals gloating at the murder of a conservative, rebel soldiers and maybe others in the South made up their own words for the tune, wishing for the death of the president who wanted desperately to unite the nation.

The following words for the tune may have been those most sung by Union soldiers in our nation’s Civil War:

The hour was sad, I left the maid
A lingering farewell taking
Her sighs and tears, her steps delayed
I thought her heart was breaking
In hurried words, her name I blessed
I breathed the vows that bind me
And to my heart in anguish pressed
The girl I left behind me

Then to the south we bore away
To win a name in story
And there where dawns the sun of day
There dawned our sun of glory
Both blazed in noon on freedom’s height
Where in the post assigned me
I shared the glory of that fight
Sweet girl I left behind me

Full many a name our banners bore
Of former deeds of daring
But they were days of seventy six
In which we had no sharing
But now our laurels freshly won
With the old ones shall entwine thee
Still worthy of our sires, each son
Sweet girl I left behind me

The hope of final victory
Within my bosom burning
Is mingling with sweet thoughts of thee
And of my fond returning
But should I ne’er return again
Still worth thy love thou’t find me
Dishonor’s breath shall never stain
The name I left behind me

Many Union soldiers, especially immigrants, continued in the army after the Civil War’s end. It’s easy to see why that lively tune remained popular, especially with a command like Custer’s. Given its lively nature and happy ending, it’s easy for anyone to see why this song would be played as troops marched out to start a campaign.

Sadly, Custer’s final campaign left many widows on both sides of the conflict along with many saddened sweethearts. As a valentine song, though, this ‘Song of the Seventh’ speaks of the proud return of many soldiers and warriors to the girls they left behind. It is a proud and upbeat march rather than a sad or somber song.