The Battle of New Orleans - song and lyrics by Johnny Horton | Spotify

About the Song

Johnny Horton‘s “The Battle of New Orleans” is more than just a song; it’s a timeless piece of Americana that has captured the hearts of listeners for generations. Released in 1959, this folk ballad recounts the dramatic events of the War of 1812 and Andrew Jackson’s victory over the British at the Battle of New Orleans. Horton’s vivid storytelling and catchy melody transformed a historical event into a foot-stomping, sing-along anthem.

What makes this song so enduring? It’s a perfect blend of history, music, and a touch of the dramatic. Horton’s deep, resonant voice brings the story to life, painting vivid pictures of the battle. The lyrics are simple yet effective, making them easy to remember and sing along to. The upbeat tempo and lively instrumentation, including the iconic trumpet solo, create a sense of excitement and triumph.

Beyond its musical appeal, “The Battle of New Orleans” has a unique place in American popular culture. It’s a song that has been covered by countless artists, from country to rock, and has appeared in numerous films and television shows. The song’s enduring popularity can be attributed to its ability to connect with people on a deep level. It’s a celebration of American patriotism, a reminder of our nation’s history, and a testament to the power of music to bring people together.

Whether you’re a history buff, a music lover, or simply someone looking for a good tune, “The Battle of New Orleans” is a song that’s worth a listen. It’s a reminder that even the most serious of subjects can be made entertaining and memorable through the power of music.

Would you like me to focus on a specific aspect of the song, such as its historical context, musical style, or cultural impact? Here are some additional ideas we could explore:

  • Historical context: We could delve deeper into the Battle of New Orleans and its significance in American history.
  • Musical style: We could analyze the song’s musical elements, such as the key, tempo, and instrumentation, and compare it to other songs of the era.
  • Cultural impact: We could discuss how the song has been used in films, television, and advertising, and how it has influenced subsequent generations of musicians.

Johnny Horton | Sun Records

Video 

Lyrics: The Battle of New Orleans 

In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we caught the bloody British in the town of New OrleansWe fired our guns and the British kept a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of MexicoWe looked down the river and we seen the British come
And there must have been a hunnerd of ’em beatin on the drum
They stepped so high and they made their bugles ring
We stood beside our cotton bales ‘n’ didn’t say a thing

We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

Old Hickory said we could take ’em by surprise
If we didn’t fire our muskets till we looked ’em in the eye
We held our fire ’till we seed their faces well
Then we opened up the squirrel guns and really gave em
Well we

Fired our guns and the British kept a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

Yeah they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn’t catch ’em
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

We fired our cannon till the barrel melted down
So we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round
We filled his head with cannonballs and powered his behind
And when we touched the powder off the gator lost his mind

We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin’
There wasn’t nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin’
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

Yeah they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn’t catch ’em
On down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

Hup, 2, 3, 4
Sound off, 3, 4
Hup, 2, 3, 4
Sound off, 3, 4
Hup, 2, 3, 4
Sound off, 3, 4

 

You Missed

THE CHAOS STOPS. THE NOISE FADES. AND IN THE FINAL SECONDS, TOBY KEITH STEPS BACK INTO THE LIGHT. For most of the video for “Think As You Drunk,” Riley Green leans into the kind of high-octane, rowdy trouble that country music fans have been raising hell to for decades. He’s losing boots, stumbling through bars, and ending up in handcuffs—with his corgi, Carl, watching the whole mess with a look of pure, sober judgment. It’s the kind of reckless, fun-loving anthem that keeps the honky-tonks loud on a Friday night. But then, just as the dust settles, the mood completely shifts. As the track winds down, the familiar, unmistakable roar of Toby Keith’s voice cuts through, playing “As Good As I Once Was.” The camera stops following the chaos and lingers on a framed photo of Toby, center stage, holding a red Solo cup high in the air—a classic pose for the man who turned that cup into a national symbol. In that quiet moment, the jokes fall away. Riley Green doesn’t need a tearful monologue or a scripted tribute; he lets the music and the image do the heavy lifting. It is a masterful, respectful tip of the hat from one generation of country stars to the man who laid the blueprint for the modern drinking anthem. The tribute is more than just a nod in a video; it’s a commitment. A portion of the proceeds from the song is headed to the Toby Keith Foundation, directly supporting children fighting cancer and their families. While Carl the corgi might win the “funniest moment” award, Toby Keith gets the final word—a hauntingly perfect reminder of the legacy he left behind.

SHE STEPPED UP TO THE MICROPHONE TO SING A LOVE SONG WITH A MAN WHO WAS ALREADY GONE. When Lorrie Morgan walked into the studio to record “‘Til a Tear Becomes a Rose,” she wasn’t just performing a track for a Greatest Hits album. She was stepping into a haunting, high-stakes duet with her late husband, Keith Whitley, who had passed away just a year earlier. The technology was simple, but the emotional weight was crushing. Keith’s voice was already on the tape, preserved from an old demo he’d recorded with his friend Ricky Skaggs. There was no studio collaboration, no sharing a smile between takes, and no husband to hold once the final note faded. Lorrie had to stand in the silence, put on her headphones, and wait for Keith’s voice to come through—then harmonize with a ghost. When the song was released in 1990, it didn’t just climb the charts; it hit a nerve that few country songs ever reach. It felt raw, immediate, and painfully real. That fall, when the industry gathered for the CMA Awards, the song took home the trophy for Vocal Event of the Year. The two names—Lorrie Morgan and Keith Whitley—were etched together on the award, a cruel reminder of a partnership that had been tragically severed in its prime. While Lorrie stood alone to accept the honor, the recording remained a permanent monument to what they had been. It wasn’t just a song about sorrow or a performance about heartbreak; it was a widow using her own voice to reach across the silence and sing one last time with the man she couldn’t hold again. It stands today as a testament to the fact that while death can end a marriage, it can’t always silence the music that two people built together.

A PERFECT FINALE: ALAN JACKSON HANGS UP HIS HAT AND WELCOMES HIS FIFTH GRANDCHILD.For a man who built a career on songs that capture the milestones of life—the memories, the heartbreaks, and the quiet joys—the timing of Alan Jackson’s latest chapter feels like something written into a country standard.On June 27, 2026, Alan Jackson took the stage at Nashville’s Nissan Stadium for his final, massive farewell concert, “Last Call: One More for the Road – The Finale.” With over 50,000 fans in the stands and a roster of country’s biggest names joining him, the mood was one of celebration and reflection. During the show, Alan shared a sweet, prophetic moment with the crowd, pointing out his daughter Dani, who was heavily pregnant at the time. “We have three wonderful daughters and sons-in-law, and now we’ve got 4.75 grandchildren,” he joked. “One’s due any minute. She’s out there… I feel sad for her being here tonight, she’s about to go into labor with all this sound going on.” He wasn’t off by much. Twelve days after that final bow, the Jackson family grew once more. On July 9, 2026, Dani and her husband, Sam Carrington, welcomed Samuel Hudson Carrington—”Hudson”—the couple’s first child and Alan and Denise’s fifth grandchild. Alan shared the news on Instagram with a touching photo of himself and Denise cradling the newborn. It’s a milestone that brings a beautiful full-circle moment to the Jackson household. With all three of his daughters—Mattie, Ali, and Dani—having been pregnant at the same time, this “baby boom” has been the perfect way for Alan to transition from the spotlight of his touring career to the quiet, cherished life of a grandfather. For the man who spent decades singing “Remember When,” this is a new “remember when” in the making: one legendary farewell, one beautiful hello, and a retirement that couldn’t have been timed more perfectly.

PEOPLE SAW WHAT THE CANCER HAD TAKEN, BUT WHEN HE STEPPED TO THE MIC, HE SHOWED THEM THE ONE THING IT COULD NEVER REACH. By the end of 2023, the physical toll was impossible to miss. Stomach cancer had stripped away the frame of the man who once seemed to fill an entire arena just by walking out onto the stage. When Toby Keith stepped onto the boards at Dolby Live in Las Vegas, the audience wasn’t looking at the “Big Dog Daddy” of the 2000s; they were looking at a man who had been through the fires of hell. But then, he started to sing. The voice was different—weathered by pain, tempered by exhaustion, and rougher around the edges. But it wasn’t broken. It carried the same iron-clad authority that had defined his career for three decades. He didn’t try to hide his condition or mask the changes with stagecraft; he stood there, exposed and honest, and let the music do the work. When he performed “Don’t Let the Old Man In,” the atmosphere in the room shifted. It wasn’t just a song anymore; it was a manifesto. Every word felt like a deliberate strike against the inevitable, a defiant declaration from a man who wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t just singing about age; he was singing from the front lines of his own battle. Those shows were meant to be a comeback. Instead, history turned them into a final stand. In the end, cancer succeeded in weakening his body and cutting his time short, but it couldn’t touch the core of who he was. When he began to sing, the noise of his illness vanished, leaving behind only the one thing that had fueled his entire life: an unwavering refusal to back down.