The melody of an old Irish drinking song, "Old Rosin the Beau" (also spelled "Bow") has been used for many, many folk songs. It has been frequently used for political campaigns, including these two of 1840, and many others following.
The 1840 election was a race to victory by the Whig candidate, William Henry
Harrison (Tippecanoe) vs. Democrat Martin van Buren.
Ye jolly young lads of Ohio, And all ye sick Jackson men too, Come out from among the Van party, And vote for old Tippecanoe. CHORUS And vote for old Tippecanoe, And vote for old Tippecanoe, Come out from among the Van party, And vote for old Tippecanoe. The great Twenty-Second is coming. And the Vanjacks begin to look blue, They know there's no chance for poor Marty, If we stick to old Tippecanoe. If we stick... etc. I therefore will give you a warning, Not that any good it will do, For I'm certain you all are a going, To vote for old Tippecanoe. To vote... etc. Then let us be up and a doing. And cling to our cause brave and true, I'll bet you a fortune we'll beat them, With the hero of Tipppecanoe, With the hero... etc. Good men from the Vanjacks are dying, Which makes them look kinder askew, For they see they are joining the standard, With the Hero of Tippecanoe, With the Hero.... etc. They say that he lived in a cabin, And lived on old hard cider too, Well, what if he did, I'm certain, He's the Hero of Tippecanoe, He's the Hero. etc. Then let us all go to Columbus, And form a procession or two, And I tell you the Vanjacks will startle, At the sound of Old Tippecanoe, At the sound... etc. As for one I'm fully determined, To go, let it rain, hail or snow, And do what we can in the battle, For the Hero of Tippecanoe, For the Hero... etc. And if we get any ways thirsty, I'll tell you what we can do, We'll bring down a keg of Hard Cider And drink to Old Tippecanoe, And drink... etc.
Here's another pro-Harrison campaign song written to the tune of "Rosin' the Beau":
You can't make a song to Van Buren, Because his long name will not do, There's nothing about him allurin', As there is about Tippecanoe! He never was seen in a battle, Where bullet and cannon shot flew, His nerves would be shocked with the rattle Of a contest like Tippecanoe! While Harison march'd to the border - Sly Van staid at home as you know, Afraid of the smell of gun-powder-- Then hurrah for Old Tippecanoe! Little Matt was too tender a dandy, To shoulder a musket and go Where Harrison battled so handy, As he did when at tippecanoe; But snug in his pretty sil stalkings, And dressed in his broadcloth all new, He roasted his shins in a parlour-- Not fighting like Tippecanoe. And now with his gold sppoons and dishes, He lives like a king with his crew; He'll feast on the loaves and the fishes, Till we put in Old Tippecanoe.
Last update: April 19, 1998