Old Mule Songs and Poetry

I have scoured several hundred books, magazines and newsletters searching for old mule songs and poetry that give the honor due to the faithful, long-suffering, hard-working, often cantankerous, mule. Here for your reading pleasure are some of the most compelling ones I found. Please note that, inasmuch as possible, I have not edited the old mule songs and poems. However, in a couple of them, racially denigrating nouns were used. With due respect to the original writers, I substituted a different noun to avoid any offense.

Image from sheet music published in 1893. Copyright has expired.

Perhaps no other mule has been as celebrated in old mule songs and poetry as the Army mule. Equally important to both sides in America's own Civil War, the Army mule played an important role. Without the trusty packs mules who carried men, weapons and supplies into terrains unsuitable for other beasts of burden, many wars, including the Civil War, could have had much different outcomes. Without the draft mules who pulled hundreds of wagons laden with food, water, machinery, weapons, ammunitions and more, the armies could not have survived, much less won their great victories.

Being somewhat of a Missouri Mule myself, I especially love the following poem which celebrates the character of the mule (and me).

Let others sing of the noble horse,
High-stepping, brave and gay,
Who prances proudly o'er the course
In his patrician way.

A humbler figure claims our song,
A victim of misrule,
The poor, oppressed, yet tough and strong,
American army mule.

The long-eared mule, Missouri mule,
The balking, biting, kicking, fighting,
Rough and rusty, tried and trusty,
Tough old army mule.

He's no prize beauty, and, besides,
He wasn't made for show,
The meat inside his leathery hide
Is grislier than crow.

But warring nations wait until
He comes across the sea
Before their armies move to kill
The blasted enemy.

He's ugly, churlish, crabbed, glum,
And cross, and sullen, yet
He's won his crown of martyrdom
A thousand times, you bet!

That tough old mule, Missouri mule,
That aw-he-hawing, kicking, jawing,
Bucking, biting, swearing, fighting,
Ugly, rancorous, rude, cantankerous,
Old, moth-eaten, weather-beaten,
Measly, piebald, glistening eyeballed,
Grouty, grumpy, rope-tailed, dumpy,
Cussed old mule, Missouri mule,
American Army mule.

Poem from The Independent, Volume 53, Issue 1, January 1901 - Image from Farm Animals, 1907, copyright has expired.

Some of the old mule songs and poetry were written to ridicule opposing forces, lending much-needed morale to the troops on both sides. The following old mule song is one such. During the Civil war, two generals gained fame from their encounters with each other.

Confederate leader John Morgan and Yankee Brigadier General John B. Turchin faced each other several times during the Civil War. At each encounter, thousands of mules were stolen by the winning side because all recognized the importance of these animals. The final meeting occurred in Cincinnati, and the victory was won by General Turchin. Soon thereafter the following old mule song / poem was written and taken up by the Yankee soldiers.

A planter came to camp one day,
His servants for to find,
His Mules had also gone astray,
And stock of every kind.

The planter tried to get them back,
And thus was made a fool,
For every one he met in camp
Cried "Mister here's your Mule."

Go back, go back, go back, old scamp,
And don't be made a fool,
Your servants they are all in camp
And Turchin's got your Mule.

His corn and horses all were gone
Within a day or two,
Again he went to Col. Long,
To see what he could do.

I cannot change what I have done,
I won't be made a fool,
Was all the answer he could get,
The owner of the mule.

And thus from place to place we go,
The song is e'er the same,
T'is not as once it used to be,
For Morgan's lost his name.

He went up North and there he stays,
With stricken face, the fool,
In Cincinnati now he cries,
"My Kingdom for a Mule."

The emphasized verse was the chorus of this song; and, therefore, repeated many times throughout the song to the delight of the Yankee soldiers.

Poem from 4 Years in the Saddle, W. L. Curry, 1898

Image from Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Copyright Expired

Wars are famous for phrases that become "battle calls" for the armies involved in them. One of the phrases that was very popular during the Civil War was "Here's Your Mule" or "Mister, Here's Your Mule." It became a taunt to opposing forces although used by hundreds of men who had no idea what it meant. They just knew it ridiculed their enemies, and it became a favorite cry. (Read the full story of this oft-repeated phrase here.)

This song was a battle cry for victory by the Confederate forces, celebrating the many victories of John Morgan. The song mentioned above, "Turchin's Got Your Mule", was the Yankee answer to this old mule song after Morgan's defeat in Cincinnati.

The Yankee tread is on our streets,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
I hear the tramp of the vandal's feet,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
Hark! I hear a rooster squall,
The vandal takes it, hen and all,
And makes the boys and women bawl,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!

There's nothing that escapes their eyes,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
They all are death on cakes and pies,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
Hush! I see a lighted sky,
Our people's houses burning high,
John Morgan's coming by and by,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!

Hark! Morgan's boys are on a raid,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
To meet the foe they're not afraid,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
And when bluecoats, see them come,
They stop and fire and break and run,
And then begins John Morgan's fun,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!

And Pemberton is in the West,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
To hold Vicksburg he'll do his best,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
When General Grant strikes in his flank,
Our faithful Joe will play a prank,
And gobble up the devilish Yank,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!

When Stonewall Jackson's in the field,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
His are the boys that never yield,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!
And when you hear the old man pray,
You may be sure that on next day
The very devil will be to pay,
Here's your mule, 0, here's your mule!

Battles and Sketches of the Army of Tennessee, Bromfeld Lewis Ridley, 1906

American mules made famous in old mule songs and poetry fought in other wars besides the Civil War. The most oft-mentioned type of Army mule was the Missouri mule. The Missouri mule was celebrated by Ira Reeves in Bamboo Tales, giving the mule a great place of honor in the battles in Luzon.

That republics are ungrateful,
Is adage old as sin;
That only he who has a pull
Can rake the chestnuts in;
And he, the faithful, honest heart,
Who meekly bears his humble part.
Is often dubbed a fool.

Oh, Dewey gets a mighty praise,
And everywhere they shout
And yell for Schley until they raise
Their very livers out;
Of rank and file much praise is heard,
But then you never hear a word
About the Army Mule.

He calmly bears his heavy pack,
And twists his tail in glee;
And chews at night a "gunny" sack,
When corn has "gang a-glee";
But for his patient, loving ways
No annals speak a word of praise
Of that poor Army Mule.

He nobly marched where bullets fell,
With calm and even tread;
And when he heard the bursting shell,
He only shook his head;
And at his post he nobly stood
To help the boys what e'er he could,
That faithful Army Mule.

'Neath burning sun of Cuba's isle,
He brought the train along,
To furnish Shafter's men the while
They sang the "rifle song";
And but for him supplies were vain;
They must be brought through sun and rain,
By that same Army Mule.

In Luzon where the Army moves,
The festive Mule is nigh;
Too slow the pokey carabao proves,
For Yankee soldiers fly;
In heat or cold, in wet or dry,
In mud or dust, they can rely
On the true Army Mule.

He brings relief to sick and well,
When other sources fail;
His worth the soldier cannot tell,
His glory shall not pale;
And here a monument we raise,
A tribute to the worthy praise
Of the American Mule.

But first and foremost of them all,
In duty or in danger;
With biggest ears and loudest call,
And to fatigue a stranger;
The first on Santiago's brow,
And in Luzon the friskiest now:
Oh, that's the Missouri Mule.

W. S. Platt, quoted in Bamboo Tales, Ira L. Reeves, 1900

Patience is a Virtue by Gypsy_moon_creations

Singing the old mule songs around the campfires was a favorite pastime of soldiers. In 1893, Elm Street Printing published a book of songs that was titled A Campfire Madrigal. It included "A Song to Old Glory" and "An Ode to the Grand Army Mule." So, here is the last old mule song for today:

To a tribute of love to a personal friend
Of every old soldier, I pray you attend;
We have sung of brave men who nobly left all,
And marched to the front at Freedom's loud call.

Let us now sing the praise of a quadruped true,
A hero o'erlooked, to whom justice is due;
The most versatile genius under the sun,
E pluribus unum, or, many in one.

I sing of the MULE, of the Grand Army Mule
The butt of all jokes, and yet nobody's fool;
A jolly old joker-whose laugh was a snore,
Plus a whistle and snicker, that made the camp roar.

Thus joining the mirth of masses and asses,
And proving a kinship between the two classes.

Still he was wise, and could make Solomon take
A back seat, while he slept and the King kept awake,
For quite early in life he took his degree
Of Master of Arts in the Mule 'Varsity.

A four-footed Solon, he knew his own mind,
And wisely kept part of his foresight behind;
A General, he guarded his forces from fear,
By trailing a battery close in his rear;
A Strategist, he kept his plans under cover,
By marching one way and fighting the other.

A Tactician he, of whom all will agree,
That he taught the whole world, including Hardee,
The science of meeting the battle's fierce brunt,
By swinging his REAR quickly 'round to the front.

A musician also, with charges unpaid,
Who blew all charges for th' Hard Tack Brigade,
Gave open-air concerts on special occasions,
And matinees daily with slight variations.

A Basso who thundered some miles below D,
A Tenor who splintered the scale at high C,
A Nightingale wearing his wings on his head,
A Player of Bones, when we thought he was dead.

A Cornetist who blew" lights out" with a bray,
And woke Creation with his hoarse reveille-
The only recruit, wearing Uncle Sam's brand,
Whose heels were drum-sticks, and his head a brass band.

Tho' generals commanded, and armies obeyed,
No battles were won 'till he came to their aid,
For he drew not his own, but Grand Army rations,
And his traces were linked to th' fate of the nations.

In such service we fed him on bottles and bricks,
And got a move on him with blacksnakes and sticks;
Swore him in with an oath three years in duration,
Cut down his forage to the verge of starvation,

Exposed him to storms and all sorts of weather,
Till he rattled along inside of his leather-
A mummy in harness-dried mule on the hoof.
Abused until conscience became bullet-proof,

He choked down his grief, and smothered his groans,
Slipped out his hide, and marched on in his bones,
Keeping time to John Brown and th' Red, White, and Blue,
Till he crossed the last ditch, and pulled us through.

Then hurrah for the MULE, the Grand Army mule;
Tho' th' butt of all jokes, he was nobody's fool.

When we gather our heroes in bronze and in stone,
In grander Pantheon than that of old Rome.
Where the WOLF found place 'mong warriors and sages,
Whose deeds were Iliads of nations and ages.

Our mule shall be found in that Temple of Fame,
In a bronze which shall ever his virtues proclaim.

The picture in the introduction of this article is from the cover of the songbook.

Work Mule Print 52x52 by MostlyAnimalArt

Today mules are seldom used as pack mules, draft mules, or Army mules. They are still used in certain places, such as the Grand Canyon. Mostly, you will find them turning up as show mules, riding mules, or even racing mules. Annual events are held all over the United States that remind us of the great part mules played in our country's history.

This article is my way of recognizing those wonderful writers who captured for us, in old mule songs and poetry, the incredible history of these magnificent animals.

guardianstar77 is a writer, graphics design artist, nature enthusiast and lover of everything that resembles a horse. She lives in Central Arkansas and shares her life with a husband of almost 40 years, 2 sons, and 4 fabulous grandchildren. guardianstar77 is not domesticated, finding that spending time doing almost anything else beats doing housework. Her passions include recycling, frugal living, feeding the hungry, old-fashioned vintage everything, nature, reading, writing, flea markets and yard sales, Christmas, mystical creatures, carousels, and artwork filled with glorious earthy colors or nature's warm, soothing colors of green and blue.

guardianstar77 is a devout Christian, a staunch conservative, a passionate American, and a defender of capitalism. Although she is, by her own definition, somewhat of a "professional hermit crab" , guardianstar77 is deeply loyal to her family and those she chooses to have as friends. When not pursuing writing and artistic goals, she spends her time deepening those relationships.

guardianstar77 is a long-standing member of Squidoo, and she shares her royalties with many Squidoo charities. View all my lenses!

The old mule songs and poetry presented here have been gleaned largely from Google Books. It is with great thanks to Google that I present them to you.

Google Books

The mule image used in the Table of Contents and Guest Book banners as well as the Return to TOC button in each section is derived from an image whose copyright has expired.