THE CARPET-BAGGER'S LAMENT
by Anonymous
Tune: "Old Rosin the Beau"

I've traveled this country all over,
And now to another must go,
Where the darkies are easier swindled,
And less of my lying do know.

I came from the cold frosty region,
The land of the ice and the snow,
I came with carpet-bag empty,
But now 'tis full as you know.

At home I was ragged and dirty,
And left when the sun had got low,
But soon made a rise in this country,
When I got in the Freedmen's Bureau.

I told how I shouldered my musket,
And fought for the poor old negro,
How I hated the secesh and rebels,
And told them to hate 'em also.

I swore them at night by dark lanterns,
In the league we call loyal you know,
And made them believe if they left it,
Straight down to the devil they'd go.

I promised that land we would give them,
Or acres quite forty or more,
With a mule fat and ready to tend it,
That caught the fool darkey be sure.

I promised to give them all office,
And make them my equals also,
I made them think I was an angel,
And this earth would be Heaven below.

We got every office we wanted,
And threw the poor darkeys a bone,
We robbed and we stole without fearing,
For Grant he would let us alone.

That "mournful fact" speech of old Greeley,
Struck the first heavy blow,
Now the niggers, confound 'em want office,
Then where shall we carpet-bags go?

I see that more trouble is coming,
The mule and the land I can't show,
So like many a swindler before me,
I must pack up my stealings and go.

Songs of the Confederacy