David Kincaid - Vocals, Guitar, Banjo & Percussion Liz Knowles - Fiddle
Jerry O’Sullivan - Uilleann Pipes, Flute & Whistle
Penned by one “Corporal Barney,” this broadside ballad was likely published in the latter part of 1864. As these were rarely, if ever, dated by the publishers, the mention of the deaths of Brig. Gen. Michael Corcoran (Dec. 1863), and Col. James Mulligan (July 1864) in the fourth verse places the narrative in this timeframe. With no traditional melody specified, the phrasing and upbeat character of the lyric immediately brought the traditional song “The Girl I Left Behind Me” to mind, fitting it perfectly.
From the category of humorous Irish recruiting songs, of which there are many, this protagonist claims irresistibility to the fairer sex and exceptional bravery, making light of the horrors of war. An Irish scraper frequenting county fairs, his fighting days are behind him after receiving a knockout blow - that is until he learns of the South’s attack on the American Union, prompting him to emigrate and join the Union Army. Once enlisted, he receives his training Gen. George Meade, the lyric stressing the immense adulation of the crowd - and of course the admiration of the ladies - as the Irish Brigade marches down Broadway, New York City en route to the seat of war.
The entire third verse is dedicated to Cpl. Barney’s alleged magnetism to the “faymales,” who seem to have him in constant pursuit - a further enticement for the prospective recruit. Verse four delves into the actual combat and loss of commanders Corcoran and Mulligan, who are avenged by Irish generals Thomas Meagher and James Shields. Forced to the ground to avoid incoming fire, our hero rises up undaunted to go “at them hot,” with the Irish ultimately winning the day - their usual outcome according to the good corporal.
The final two verses shift to a more serious and common theme with these Irish songs of the war: the current conflict as training for an eventual campaign to liberate Ireland from oppressive British rule, expressing the hope of aid from the US, providing men and even Gen. U.S. Grant. Though unsuccessful attempts by Irish veterans were mounted after the war, the hope of aid was ultimately unfulfilled, the US government not being anxious to provoke another conflict with Britain. Cpl. Barney, however, is unaware of these facts, and is confident and even boastful of an eventual Irish victory against its oppressors.
Though this lyric, like many of them, is humorously bellicose and boastful, history tells us again and again that the courage and bravery of the Irish during the American Civil War cannot be overstated. May this recording serve as a memorial to our brave forebears who fought so valiantly to preserve the Union, and secure the freedom of all Americans.
Engineered, Produced & Arranged by D.K. at Logan Sound, and McCormick Sound Studios, Staten Island, NY, 2024-2025.
Copyright ℗ & © 2025 by David Kincaid, Haunted Field Music THE IRISH-AMERICAN ARMY.
BY CORPORAL BARNEY.
Oh! I'm the boy, from sweet Fermoy, You'd hardly find a tighter,
At every fair, I'm always there, And been a decent fighter;
But in a row, I can't tell how,
I got a whack that floor'd me, And, strange to tell, when I got well, Of fighting nearly cured me, Until I heard the South had dared, Columbia, dear, to harm ye Then I came o'er and joined the corps Of th' Irish American Army!
CHORUS.
Then hip, hurra! come clear the way, And list to Corporal Barney– The ladies' joy–the soldier boy Of th' Irish American Army!
And now enroll'd a soldier bold,
The sarvice I delight in;
I larned the trade with General Meade, For he was made for fightin'.
Och had you seen me dressed in Green, The Green Flag flying o'er us,
As down Broadway we march'd that day, With spirits quite uproarious;
The boys were wild, the girls they smiled, Och, ladies, won't we storm ye, With Cupid's darts besiege your hearts, The boys of the Irish Army.
CHORUS
Then hip hurra! come clear the way, And let the girls come near me, To see their joy-the soldier boy Of th' Irish-American Army!

I could tell ye the tales about faymales That after me are comin': Young Nelly Gray, ould Biddy Bray, And lots o' widdy women; There's Peggy Bawn and Nancy Dawn, (Her mother keeps a diary,)
The widow Wright-but she's a fright And one-eyed Miss O'Leary;
But of them all, lean, fat or tall, Miss Callaghan best warms me;
If she were mine, och wouldn't I shine In th' Irish-American Army!
CHORUS.
Then hip hurra! and clear the way, Dear girls, I won't alarm ye;
To fight the foe, your beaux must go With th' Irish-American-Army!
Brave Corcoran and Mulligan
Fell 'neath the rebel sabres,
But Meagher and Shields, on bloody fields Revenged their death, be japers!
And as we charg'd thro' trenches gorged With wounded, dead and dying,
A ball came by, and made me lie
But I'd no taste for lying;
For up I got, went at them hot
To see them run would charm ye;
We won the day, for that's the way With th' Irish American Army!
CHORUS.
Then hip hurra! and clear the way, No rebel foe can scare me The ladies' joy-the soldier boy Of th' Irish-American Army!
And then at night, when clos'd the fight, Around the camp-fire smoking, Each boy in green, with his dudeen, 'Midst laughter, song and joking; Oh, had we fought that day, I thought, Lov'd Erin's bonds to sever,
How sweet the toil on Irish soil,
To crush her foes for ever!

Hark! "news from home ... .. the mail has come," From private to the colonel
All rush'd to hear the news that cheer,
In the' Irish-American journal.
CHORUS.
Then hip hurra! come clear the way, And let the boys come near me, While I diffuse the glorious news Of th' Irish American Army!
Then let all here give one loud cheer For Erin's sons distinguished, Who in a flood of Irish blood Rebellion's flame extinguished. When comes the hour to fight the Power That tramples Irish freedom, Columbia, then, will give us men,
A Grant, too, if we need him? Then raise the cheer, ye despots hear, And surely 'twill alarm ye,
For soon you'll see Ould Erin free By th' Irish-American Army!
CHORUS.
Then hip hurra! aye clear the way, We're coming, Saxon, arm ye; The fight's begun–it will be won By th' Irish American Army!