\"The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down\" is a song written by Robbie Robertson and originally recorded by the Canadian roots rock group the Band in 1969 and released on their eponymous second album. Levon Helm provided the lead vocals. The song is a first-person narrative relating the economic and social distress experienced by the protagonist, a poor white Southerner, during the last year of the American Civil War, when George Stoneman was raiding southwest Virginia. Frequently appearing on lists of the best rock songs of all time, it has been cited as an early example of the genre known as roots rock.
Joan Baez recorded a version of the song that became a top-five chart hit in late 1971.
Robertson stated that he had the music to the song in his head but at first had no idea what it was to be about. Then the concept came to him and he did research on the subject. Levon Helm, a native of Arkansas, stated that he assisted in the research for the lyrics.
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The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down
C Am C/G F C/E Dm
Virgil Caine is the name, and I served on the Danville train,
Am C/G F C/E Dm
'Til Stoneman's cavalry came and tore up the tracks again.
Am/E F C/G Dm
In the winter of '65, We were hungry, just barely alive.
Am/E F C/G Dm D/F#
By May the tenth, Richmond had fell, it's a time I remember, oh so well,
C/G F C/G F
The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, and the bells were ringing,
C/G F C/G F
The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, and the people were singin'. They went
C/G Am Gsus4 F C
La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La
Am C F C/E Dm
Back with my wife in Tennessee, When one day she called to me,
Am C F C/E Dm
\"Virgil, quick, come see, there goes Robert E. Lee!\"
Am/E F C/G Dm
Now I don't mind choppin' wood, and I don't care if the money's no good.
Am/E F
Ya take what ya need and ya leave the rest,
C/G Dm D/F#
But they never should have taken the very best.
[Chorus]
Am C F C/E Dm
Like my father before me, I will work the land,
Am C F C/E Dm
Like my brother above me, who took a rebel stand.
Am/E F C Dm
He was just eighteen, proud and brave, But a Yankee laid him in his grave,
Am/E F
I swear by the mud below my feet,
C Dm D/F#
You can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat.
