Negro Spirituals + Work Songs

The Negro Spirituals predate the USA, as do the Work Songs. Imagine what has been lost is how the NEgro Spirituals plus work songs changed from the early 1500s to circa 1865, when the war between the states ended. I don't even know how that knowledge can be obtained as written records for black art were not allowed by the white enslavers.....

NEGRO SPIRITUALS

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Religious Folk-Songs of the Southern Negroes This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Religious Folk-Songs of the Southern Negroes Author: Howard Washington Odum Release date: March 8, 2012 [eBook #39078] Language: English Credits: Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RELIGIOUS FOLK-SONGS OF THE SOUTHERN NEGROES *** Religious Folk-Songs OF THE Southern Negroes By HOWARD W. ODUM Fellow in Psychology, Clark University A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF CLARK UNIVERSITY, WORCESTER, MASS., IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY, AND ACCEPTED ON THE RECOMMENDATION OF G. STANLEY HALL Reprinted from the Am. Jour. of Religious Psy. and Ed. July, 1909. Vol. 3, pp. 265-365. [Pg 1] RELIGIOUS FOLK-SONGS OF THE SOUTHERN NEGROES[1] By HOWARD W. ODUM Fellow in Psychology, Clark University. To know the soul of a people and to find the source from which flows the expression of folk-thought is to comprehend in a large measure the capabilities of that people. To obtain the truest expression of the folk-mind and feeling is to reveal much of the inner-consciousness of a race. And the knowledge of those evidences which are most representative of race life constitutes the groundwork of a knowledge of social and moral tendencies, hence of social and moral needs. The student of race traits and tendencies must accept testimony from within the race, and in the study of race character the value of true expressions of the feelings and mental imagery cannot be overestimated. Thus it is possible to approximate knowledge of a race. To bring a people face to face with themselves and to place them fairly before the world is the first service that can be rendered in the solution of race problems. To preserve and interpret the contributions of a people to civilization is [Pg 2]to add to the science of folk-history. Posterity has often judged peoples without having so much as a passing knowledge of their inner life, while treasures of folk-lore and song, the psychic, religious, and social expression of the race, have been permitted to remain in complete obscurity. Likewise peoples have lived contemporaneously side by side, but ignorant of the treasures of folk-gems that lay hidden and wasting all about them. The heart and soul of the real people are unknown, science is deprived of a needed contribution, and the world is hindered in its effort to discover the full significance of the psychological, religious, social and political history of mankind. That which is distinctly the product of racial life and development deserves a better fate than to be blown away with changing environment, and not even remain to enrich the soil from which it sprang. Justice to the race and the scientific spirit demand the preservation of all interesting and valuable additions to the knowledge of folk-life. The successful study of the common development of the human intellect in primitive thought is thus advanced. The exact form of expression itself constitutes a contribution to knowledge and literature. The value and importance of folk-lore are gladly recognized. Its successful study and a more comprehensive recognition of its worth have revealed new problems and new phases of thought. Not only its relation to civilization as an historical science and as it bears definitely upon peoples of modern cultural areas is recognized, but its essential value in the study of psychological, anthropological, and sociological conditions has called forth the most careful study that has been possible to give it. On the scientist’s part, knowledge has been increased, while on the other hand, the peoples of the world have become more united in the appreciation of the kindred development of human thought. The vast contributions to folk-science and their relation to scientific interest, bear testimony to this truth. And perhaps even more with folk-song, a greater work is to be done. As a part of folk-lore it represents less of the traditional and more of the spontaneous. Its collection and study is now being pursued with more zeal and with marked success. And the hope may well be expressed that with the growing interest in folk-song may come an increased knowledge of all that is nearest and truest to the phyletic as well as the genetic concept of a people, and that with this knowledge may come effective efforts toward race adjustment and new aids in the solution of race problems. [Pg 3]The situation of the Southern negro is unique. His problems are peculiarly intricate. The problem of the relations between the whites and blacks is far-reaching. Social conditions are changing and it is of paramount importance that every step taken shall be well founded and in the right direction. The political, the social, and the economical position of the negro, his education, his religion, his tendencies—these are themes that demand definite and accurate comprehension above all else. Truths have too often been assumed. Passion and prejudice have often hindered the attainment of noble ends which were earnestly sought. A true knowledge of actual conditions, if properly set forth, must convince the sincere observer as to the proper relations which should exist between the two races. Nothing else should do it; nothing else can do it. And any evidences that will assist in fixing the real status of the negro should be welcomed by both the whites and the blacks; progress may then be encouraged from the proper starting point. In revealing much of what he is rather than what he appears to be, the folk-songs of the Southern negro are superior to any superficial study made from partial observations. The insight into negro character gained from their folk-songs and poetry accompanied by careful and exhaustive concrete social studies may be accepted as impartial testimony. And on the other hand, the changing economic and educational conditions, the increasing influence of the white man upon the negro, and the rapid progress that is being made on every hand in the South indicate that if the present-day folk-songs of the negro are to be preserved, they must be collected now. Should they be permitted to become a lost record of the race? In the present work some of the popular songs that are current among the negroes of the Southern States are given. They are highly representative. They may be classified into two general divisions: The religious songs or spirituals, and the secular songs. The secular songs are again divided into two classes, the general social songs, and work-songs, phrases and “shanties”. For the most part collections of negro folk-songs in the past have been limited to the old spirituals. The present-day religious songs and the social productions are equally interesting and valuable. The particular nature and characteristics of these songs are discussed in connection with the examples. They are flexible and have various forms, they consist of broken and unbroken melodies, they have stately and rapid minor cadences. Musical notes[Pg 4] can give only a skeleton of the real melody that accompanies the words; the peculiar qualification of the negro singers to render their melodies defies art to exactly symbolize it. The words of the songs are given as they are sung, and the reader must needs employ an imagination kindred in vividness to that which is reflected in the songs themselves if he would comprehend their essential qualities. The characteristic quality is often found in an improvised arrangement of words which makes the dominant feeling that of mingling words and cadencies successfully. The meaningless phrases and refrains do not hinder the expression of feeling through the minor chords. Simple emotion, inherent melody, and colloquial language are combined with fine and differentiating imagery and humor in an under-meaning common to the folk-song. An element of melancholia may be felt underlying many of the songs. But with all alike, vigor of expression, concreteness and naturalness of mental imagery, and simplicity of language and thought are combined with striking folk-art. The negro’s projective mental imagery assumes that the hearer’s comprehension can easily grasp the full picture of description, moral maxims, and dramatic dialogues, all combined in a single verse, and that he can do it without confusion. Here may be seen much of the naked essence of poetry with unrefined language which reaches for the negro a power of expression far beyond that which any modern refinement of language and thought may approach. Rhythm, rhyme, and the feeling of satisfaction are accompanying inherent qualities. The natural poetic spirit and the power of the imagination in the negro are worthy of study. In addition to these general qualities of the negro folk-songs, it need only be suggested here that the best conception of his religious, moral, mental and social tendencies is reflected in them. That which the negro will not reveal concerning his religion, his religious songs tell better than he could possibly do. His social nature and unconscious ideals bubble out from his spontaneous social songs. In the expression of his natural feelings and emotions he gives us the reactions of his primitive thought with environment. That which is subsequently treated at length may be anticipated in the approach to a careful consideration of the fullest spirit of the negro folk-songs, namely, that it is important to note that the faculty of the negro to think, not exactly as the white man, or to think in terms of modern[Pg 5] science and literature, but in terms of his own psychological conditions, is pronounced. The negro is a part of a nation at the same time that he is a distinct people; he, perhaps, has more anthropological importance than historical standing. His present status is an essential consideration of each of these relations to the civilization of to-day. The emotions, the religion, social aspirations and ideals—in fine, the character of a people is accustomed to be expressed in their literature. The negro has no literature save that of his folk-song and story. May these not speak for him, both the good and the bad, in the following chapters? The work here presented is not exhaustive but representative. The songs are not those of a single plantation, community or section of the Southern States. They are not the songs of the coast negroes or of the river type. But they are sung popularly as much in Georgia as in Mississippi, as much in Florida as in Tennessee. They are distinctly the representative average songs that are current among the common mass of negroes of the present generation. They belong to the negroes who have been constantly in contact with the whites and to those who have had less association with the refinement and culture of the white man. They have been collected carefully and patiently under many difficulties. Many of them are sung only when the white man does not hear; they are the folk-song of the negro, and the negro is very secretive. Not only are they not commonly known by the whites but their existence is only recognized in general. They are as distinct from the white man’s song and the popular “coon songs” as are the two races. The scope of investigation is large and the field is a broad one; the supply of songs seems inexhaustible. Yet the student may not collect them hurriedly. He who has not learned by long observation and daily contact with Southern conditions the exact situation will make little progress in gathering valuable data. While all contributions to the total of negro folk-songs have been very valuable, still it is true that they have been too long neglected and the studies made have been too partial. The nature of the negro’s songs is constantly changing; the number is continually increasing. They should be studied as the conditions of the negroes are investigated. They are the product of our soil and are worthy of a distinct place in literature. In the following work the effort is made to present the best of the negro’s[Pg 6] songs and to interpret impartially the exact spirit of their essential qualities. In the following pages the effort is made to note many of the negro’s mental characteristics as studied in the interpretation of the scope, meaning and origin of his songs, and the essential qualities of his religion as found in the analysis of his Religious Songs and Spirituals. The religious songs of the negro have commonly been accepted as characteristic music of the race. The name “spirituals” given them long years ago is still current, while these songs, composed by the negroes, and passing from generation to generation with numerous modifications, retain many of their former characteristics. In former days the spirituals were judged to be the most beautiful production of the race and the truest representation of the negro’s real self. Some of these songs have been published, and for a time their emotional beauty and simplicity of expression won for the negro a definite place in the hearts of those who had not hitherto known him. He was often judged by these songs alone, reported only imperfectly and superficially, and forthwith came many expressions of delight and enthusiasm for the future possibilities of the negro. These expressions indicate not only the power of the singing of negro spirituals upon those who heard them, but also many of the characteristics of the old and present-day spirituals. The following expressions represent a summary of past judgments and criticism of negro spirituals.[2] The hymns of a congregation of “impassioned and impressible worshippers” have been “full of unpremeditated and irresistible dramatic power.” Sung “with the weirdest intonations”, they have indeed appeared “weird and intensely sad”—“such music, touching and pathetic, as I have never heard elsewhere”, “with a mystical effect and passionate striving throughout the whole.” And again, “Never, it seems to me, since man first lived and suffered, was his infinite longing and suffering uttered more plaintively.” Besides being a relaxation to the negroes these quaint religious songs were “a stimulus to courage and a tie to[Pg 7] heaven.” Or again, “I remember that this minor-keyed pathos used to seem to me almost too sad to dwell upon, while slavery seemed destined to last for generations; but now that their patience has had its perfect work, history cannot afford to lose this portion of the record. There is no parallel instance of an oppressed race thus sustained by the religious sentiment alone. These songs are but the vocal expression of the simplicity of their faith and the sublimity of their long resignation.” Such songs “are all valuable as an expression of the character and life of the race which is playing such a conspicuous part in our history. The wild, sad strains tell, as the sufferers themselves could, of crushed hope, keen sorrow and a dull, daily misery, which covered them as hopelessly as the fog from the rice swamps. On the other hand the words breathe a trusting faith in rest for the future to which their eyes seem constantly turned. The attitude is always the same, and, as a comment on the life of the race, is pathetic. Nothing but patience for this life—nothing but triumph for the next.” “One can but feel that these quaint old spirituals with their peculiar melodies, having served their time with effectiveness, deserve a better fate than to sink into oblivion as unvalued and unrecorded examples of a bygone civilization.” Many have thought that these songs would pass away immediately with the passing of slavery and that the old system of words and songs “could not be perpetuated without perpetuating slavery as it existed and with the fall of slavery its days were numbered.” And “if they be found neither touching in sentiment, graceful in expression, nor well balanced in rhythm, they may at least possess interest as peculiarities of a system now no more forever in this country.” The negro found satisfaction in singing not only at church but perhaps even more while he performed his daily tasks. Those who heard the old slaves sing will never forget the scenes that accompanied the songs. After the lighter songs and brisk melodies of the day were over the negroes turned toward eventide to more weird and plaintive notes. The impressions of such singing have been expressed: “Then the melancholy that tinges every negro’s soul would begin to assert itself in dreamy, sad and plaintive airs, and in words that described the most sorrowful pictures of slave life—the parting of loved ones, the separation of mother and child or husband and wife, or the death of those whom the heart cherishes. As he drove his lumbering ox-cart[Pg 8] homeward, sitting listlessly upon the heavy tongue behind the patient brutes, the creaking wheels and rough-hewn yokes exhibiting perhaps his own rude handiwork, the negro slave rarely failed to sing his song of longing. What if his words were rude and its music ill-constructed? Great poets like Schiller have essayed the same theme, and mighty musicians like Beethoven have striven to give it musical form. What their splendid genius failed adequately to express, the humble slave could scarce accomplish; yet they but wrought in the same direction as the poor negro, whose eyes unwittingly swam in tears, and whose heart, he scarce knew why, dissolved in tenderness as he sang in plaintive minor key one or another of his songs.” The above quotations have been given promiscuously, and while others might be added, these suffice to give the general attitude toward the songs of the negroes in the ante-bellum days and since. One other will be added, giving the expression of a present-day negro leader toward the songs of the slave, as the best interpretation that has come from within the race. In his introduction to Twenty-four Negro Melodies by Coleridge-Taylor in The Musicians Library, Booker Washington says: “The negro folk-song has for the negro race the same value that the folk-song of any other people has for that people. It reminds the race of the ‘rock whence it was hewn,’ it fosters race pride, and in the days of slavery it furnished an outlet for the anguish of smitten hearts. The plantation song in America, although an outgrowth of oppression and bondage, contains surprisingly few references to slavery. No race has ever sung so sweetly or with such perfect charity, while looking forward to the ‘year of Jubilee.’ The songs abound in scriptural allusions, and in many instances are unique interpretations of standard hymns. The plantation songs known as the ‘Spirituals’ are the spontaneous outbursts of intense religious fervor, and had their origin chiefly in the campmeetings, the revivals and in other religious exercises. They breathe a child-like faith in a personal father, and glow with the hope that the children of bondage will ultimately pass out of the wilderness of slavery into the land of freedom. In singing of a deliverance which they believed would surely come, with bodies swaying, with enthusiasm born of a common experience and of a common hope, they lost sight for the moment of the auction-block, of the separation of mother and child, of sister and brother. There is in the plantation songs a[Pg 9] pathos and a beauty that appeals to a wide range of tastes, and their harmony makes abiding impression upon persons of the highest culture. The music of these songs goes to the heart because it comes from the heart.” It will thus be seen that emphasis has been placed almost entirely upon the emotional beauty of the negro songs. They have been portrayed as the exponents of sadness in the race, and the feelings of the black folk have been described with no little skill. Observation for the most part has been made by those who have heard the negro songs but have not studied them. No careful analysis has been attempted. Perhaps casual observers have been mistaken as to the intensity of the emotions expressed and have given undue emphasis to its practical relation and effect upon the individual and upon the race. The judgment of those who have not known the negro, and to whom his singing is a revelation, leads to sweeping generalizations. On the other hand, those who have known the negroes in many walks of life, and have come to know him better than any others, have often emphasized a single phase of the negro folk-song. There can be no doubt as to the beauty and weirdness of the negro singing, but a careful analysis of the general emotional feeling predominating, together with careful interpretation of all things concerned, make comparisons less dangerous and expressions less extravagant. Slavery has passed, four decades of liberty for the slave people have signalized the better civilization, and there still remains among the negroes the same emotional nature, the same sad, plaintive, beautiful, rhythmic sorrow-feeling in their songs. Some of the qualities of the negro’s emotions as seen in his singing will be noted subsequently. Omitting for the present this feature of his songs, and qualifying the statement by interpreting his nature and environment, it may be affirmed that all that has been said of the spirituals is true. They are beautiful, childlike, simple and plaintive. They are the negro’s own songs and are the peculiar expression of his own being; much may be said concerning them. Many of the spirituals are still popular among the negroes, and often take the place of the regular church hymns. The less intelligent negroes sing them, and they are sung freely by the more intelligent class. Ministers of all denominations take advantage of their peculiar power to sway the feelings of the negroes into accustomed channels. Many of the old[Pg 10] spirituals that were common in slavery are still current and are sung with but little modification; others are greatly modified and enlarged or shortened. Traces of the slave songs may be found in the more modern spirituals that have sprung up since the war. The majority of the songs have several versions, differing according to localities, and affected by continual modification as they have been used for many years. Some have been so blended with other songs, and filled with new ideas, as to be scarcely recognizable, but clearly the product of the negro singers. Besides the old and the mixed songs, there are many that are entirely new, arising out of various circumstances and developing with successive renditions. The spirituals current among the Southern negroes to-day are very much like those that were sung three or four decades ago. The differences may be seen in the comparisons that follow in the examples given: There are more rhymed words in the present-day negro song than there was in the earlier ones; consequently there is often less meaning in a line or stanza. The tendency seems to be more toward satisfactory sound impression than for spontaneous feeling expression as in the older spirituals. Meaning and words in general are often sacrificed in the effort to make rhyme, to make the song fit into a desired tune, to bring about a satisfying rhythm, or to give prominent place to a single well-sounding word or phrase. It would thus seem that the religious songs composed in the usual way by the negroes of the present generation have less conviction, and more purposive features in their composition. The dialect of the older songs is purer than those of the present-day negro. One finds little consistency in the use of dialect in the songs that are sung now; rarely does one hear the lines repeated in exactly the same form. Dialect or the common form of the word, it would seem, is used according as feeling, the occasion, or the necessity for rhyme or rhythm permits or demands. Many of the negro songs that are the most beautiful in their expression would appear expressionless were they robbed of their dialect and vividness of word portrayal. The imagery and dialect give the songs their peculiar charm; the more mechanical production that is apparently on the increase may be sung to the same melody, but the song itself has little beauty. However, the negroes themselves prefer the old songs and almost invariably return to the singing of the more primitive ones that have become a part of their heritage.[Pg 11] In those cases where the tunes differ from the old melodies, the song has assumed a characteristic nature, either from its origin and composition, from constant usage by the negroes, from local qualities, or from unusual combinations. And in these original creations of the negro religion are found the truest expression of nature and life as it is reflected in the negro of to-day; it is not the expression of complex life, but of simple longing. In the outbursts of joyous song and melody the note of victory is predominant; in the sadder-toned songs, sung in “plaintive, rhythmic melody”, the prevailing note is that of appeal. In either case there is some sort of conviction back of the song, and it becomes the expression of primitive human life. They set forth the more simple thoughts of an emotional and imaginative worship. They magnify the personal and the spectacular in religion. They satisfy the love of melody, rude poetry, and sonorous language. Simple thought is expressed in simple rhyming phrases. Repetition of similar thoughts and a single chorus, with simple and pleasing music which lends itself easily to harmonious expression, are characteristic. The music is specially adapted to the chorus-like singing which is produced by the clever and informal carrying of many parts by the singers. The song often requires a single leader, and a swelling chorus of voices take up the refrain. It is but natural that these songs should be suited to protracted services as good “shoutin’ songs” or “runnin’ speerichils.” The same rhythm makes them pleasing to the toilers who are disposed to sing religious songs while they work and promotes a spirit of good fellowship as well as being conducive to general “good feelin’.” The united singing of children is also beautiful. Throughout these characteristic songs of the negro, the narrative style, the inconsequential, disjointed statements, the simple thought and the fastidious rhymes are all expressive of the negro’s mental operations. All of the negro’s church music tends to take into it the qualities of his native expression—strains minor and sad in their general character. The religious “tone” is a part of the song, and both words and music conform to the minor key. The negroes delight in song that gives stress and swell to special words or phrases that for one reason or another have peculiar meanings to them. For the most part, all religious songs are “spirituals” and easily merge into satisfying melodies when occasion demands. With the idea gained from[Pg 12] the music of the songs must be joined the church scenes and its personalities freely mingled with the music. The preaching, praying, singing and with it shouting and unity of negro worship—perfection of rhythmic sing-song, these with the throbbing instinct of the people make the negro music what it is. The negroes sing their regular denominational hymns with the same feeling, often, as they do the spirituals, and while mention must be made of their church hymns as such, they often reach in singing them a climax similar to their most fervent outbursts, and freely mingle them with the old songs. In addition to the tune in which the hymn is written the negro puts his own music into the singing, and his own interpretation into the words. This together with the “feeling-attitude” which is unconsciously his, and the satisfaction which he gets from his singing, places negro church music in a class of its own. A glance at the part which singing plays in the negro’s church services will aid in the interpretation of his songs. Church services are opened with song; a leader may occupy his place at a central table or chair, select a song and begin to sing. Or they may wait for the “speerit” and a leader from the pews may begin to sing, others join in the song, while the congregation begins to gather in the church. The leader often lines his song aloud, reading sometimes one, sometimes two lines, then singing. He often puts as much music-appeal into the lining of the song as he does in the singing. The rhythmical, swinging tone of the reader adds zest to the singing which follows. Most of the negroes who sing know a great many songs—in fact, all of their regular songs—if they are given a start by the leader. On the other hand, the congregation often gives the leader a start when he lags, and both together keep the song going until they are ready to stop singing or to begin another song. If the service is prayer meeting or a class meeting the leader usually continues the songs throughout the singing part of the exercises; at regular preaching services the preacher reads the regular hymns and leaves the beginning and the final songs to the leaders. In the class meeting, the general congregation led by song-leaders sing, as a rule, while the class leaders are engaged with their classes. Now a woman on this side, now a man or woman on the other side of the church begins the song and others join in the doleful tunes; so too, while collections are being made the singing is kept up continuously. The[Pg 13] process is the same: a leader begins to sing, another joins in the singing, then another and another until the majority of those present are singing. Most negroes who attend church participate in the singing, although many will not do so regularly, preferring to remain quiet for a time, then to burst out into song. The negroes have been proverbial for their good singing, and undoubtedly they have won a deserved reputation. A group of five or ten negroes singing at a mid-week prayer meeting will often appear the volume of song equivalent to that of many times their number of white people singing. The comparison, however, is not a fair one, for the music is entirely different. One can scarcely appreciate the singing of the negroes until he has heard them on various occasions and in different capacities. Let him listen on a quiet Sunday evening from a position on a hill to the singing of four negro congregations, each clearly audible. It would appear to be the rhythmical expression of deep human feeling and longing in an unrestrained outburst of ten thousand souls. Inside the church one may watch the leaders as they line the songs and listen to their rich, tremulous voices; he may see the others respond and listen to the music of each peculiar voice. The voice of the leader seems to betray great emotions as he reads the lines and begins to sing. He appears literally to drink in inspiration from the songs while his soul seems to be overflowing as he sings the words telling of grace and redemption. However, he manifests the same kind of emotion when he sings one song as when singing another, the same emotion when he reads the words wrongly as when he has read them correctly; it makes little difference to him. He is consumed with the music and with the state of feeling which singing brings to him. After all, perhaps one feeling dominates his whole being while he sings, and there can be no song to him which does not accord with this. A complete analysis of the negro church music in its detail is worthy of the efforts of any one who could describe it. And while the folk-song is of more importance in the present work than the music of these same songs, a few further details that are apparently characteristic of the negroes will not be amiss. The singing begins slowly and with time-honored regularity but is followed by the agreeable and satisfying effect made by the joining in of varied voices. Many times the singers begin as if they would sing a simple subdued song, or a hymn with its written music. But in a short while, apparently not[Pg 14] being able to resist the impulse to give their feelings full sway, their voices fall into that rhythmical swing peculiar in a large degree to the negroes; all measures alike become stately. The average negro is proud of his stylish choir because it represents a step towards a model which the negroes wish to follow: but they do not like the choir’s singing as well as their own informal song. In general the negro’s song will characterize his natural self wherever he sings or hears it sung; he is loath to give it up. And while some pastors have testified that there were no members in their church who would not sing the church songs, it is very evident that many of the younger negroes do not enter fully into the spirit of the old songs and they must necessarily undergo radical changes and rapidly pass away. Before coming to the further study of the negro spirituals, it will be well to inquire into the nature of the favorite standard church hymns commonly used by the negroes in their church services. A comparison may then be made with the popular folk-songs. The favorite songs and most common themes sung by the negroes may best be seen at their prayer meetings or class meetings, or at such gatherings as require no formality. One may attend week after week and hear the same songs and feel the same pathos emanating from the songs which the worshippers have learned to sing and love. They enjoy singing of heaven and rest and luxury where ease abounds and where Sabbaths have no end. They love to sing the praises of the Deliverer who shall free them from life’s toils. They have chosen the “good old” songs that have vividness and concrete imagery in them; they have placed a new feeling into them and a different interpretation. The meaning of the words and the sentiment of the song are transcended by the expression in the singing. The accustomed manner, together with their responsive feeling, absorb whatever of pure devotion might have existed in their attitude—the sinking itself becoming devotion. The negro looks always to some future state for happiness and sings often: This earth, he cries, is not my place; I seek my place in heaven. The negroes sing with a peculiar faith the common stanzas of their hymns: “We’ve seen our foes before us flee,” “We’ve seen the timid lose their fears”, “We’ve seen the prisoners burst their chains”,[Pg 15] “We’ve seen the guilty lose their stains.” So, too, they conceive, as of old, of the eternal rest and sing, with its full stanzas: How sweet a Sabbath thus to spend, In hope of one that ne’er shall end. The singing of these hymns is beautiful and impressive, testifying to the truth that their favorites appeal to the fitness of worship and accord with the ideal of rhythmical perfection as expressed in the feeling of the worshipper. The general state of feeling which accompanies the song thus has much to do with the song itself. The singing with its results is the most satisfying and agreeable part of the worship to the negro’s nature. It satisfies his social wants and relieves to some extent his child-like psychophysical cravings. His worship is music to his soul, whether it be in the word-music of the sermon and prayer, or in the natural outburst of his song, or in the rhythm of all combined. It is all freedom from restraint and the gratification of impulse and the experience of sustained languor. Although the negro expends a great deal of energy in his singing, it is nevertheless rest for him as he feels it. Unrestrained expression goes far toward relieving him of his troubles, sometimes real, sometimes imaginary. What the negro imagines to be total confession and contrite submission has a very soothing effect upon him; the songs reach the climax of this state of feeling. Many negroes may be seen, with their heads resting backward and eyes closed, singing vigorously their favorite songs; often they lean forward, sway back and forth, apparently in a complete state of passivity. Tears and shouts of joy are not inconsistent with the saddest strains of pathos. Their senses are all turned toward the perception of one attitude, and besides a wonderful tranquility of feeling, they also feel and see visions. At such a time the negro is at ease and is at liberty to give full expression to his feelings among his own people, without incentive to action and without interruption. Is it surprising that after a day’s work, while he has passed the hours away in emptiness of thought or in misguided thinking and with perverted notions, he finds sweet rest in some melodious songs and rhythmic verses as he rests his body in the pew? Is it surprising that he is unwilling to leave the church until a late hour or that he does not tire of singing? For what has he to attract him at home where he[Pg 16] unwillingly begins to think of work again? It is little surprising that after the outburst of song and shouts which reveals so much of the negro’s nature that his attitude is one of listlessness and apathy when he has finished. This revelation of emotions which the negro shows in his singing but manifests the reality of his religion. And although the greater part of his feeling in religion is pleasurable excitement, it is, nevertheless, for this very reason the one reality in life to him. A study of the emotional element does not, then, detract from the beauty and value of the negro’s song; it does aid in interpreting that part of his songs that arise spontaneously and also shows something of their origin and growth. Indeed without a knowledge of the negro’s nature and environment, one would scarcely realize the fullest appreciation of his folk-songs. In proportion as the investigator becomes acquainted with the people and circumstances which have furnished unique folk-songs, to that degree will he be eager to search out their origin and be able to interpret them intelligently as they are fundamentally related to the race. The negro has found much material upon which to base his songs and many sources from which he has selected a wide range of subject-matter. His religion is often synonymous with his song, and he has sung with little restraint the various religious experiences common to such a religion. The sermon and prayers, even the songs themselves suggest new themes for an imaginative and religious being to sing. So, too, the Church, the Christians and the “world” have furnished themes for his song. Sin, evil and the devil are ever-present subjects for religious thought. The scenes of everyday life form continuous allegories to be imaged with the assistance of the negro’s definite self-feeling. But perhaps nowhere has the negro found more acceptable subject-matter for his song than in the Scriptures; his songs abound in references to scriptural characters and often portray individuals and scenes with unusual concreteness. A perusal of the negro’s songs thus reveals the most common themes, but it is more difficult to locate the accidental circumstances which gave rise to particular forms of a song, or to ascertain the temperamental nature which originated many of the best known spirituals. In general, it may be said that the folk-song of the negroes has found its rise in every phase of negro life. It is scarcely possible to trace the origin of the first spirituals and plantation songs.[Pg 17] The American negroes appear to have had their own songs from the earliest days of slavery. And while their first songs were undoubtedly founded upon the African songs as a basis, both in form and meaning, little trace of them can be found in the present songs: negro folks produce spontaneous song. The linguist and the anthropologists are able to find the parallel and apparent origin of many words, that have been used by the Southern negroes in their lore and song, among the peoples of Africa, but there is now no practical relation between these words and the meaning of the words in their present usage. The origin of folk-song has always been an interesting theme, proving full of fascination for him who finds it, nymph-like, vanishing from his grasp. Still the song of a people is ever present and appear, almost like myths, to have sprung into life in some way and at some time which no one can exactly tell. Many a bard of the common life has intensified their meaning and made them a part of that life. However, many of the negro folk-songs may be explained when one has observed the negro in many walks of life, or has found the origin from which they arose. Many of the old spirituals were composed in their first forms by the negro preachers for their congregations; others were composed by the leaders of the church singing: others were composed by the slaves in the various walks of life, while still others were first sung by the “mammies” as they passed the time in imaginative melody-making and sought harmony of words and music. A great many of these songs never became current because they lacked the pleasurable features that appealed most to the negroes. Those that proved satisfactory were seized upon and their growth and popularity dated from the moment they were heard. With the negroes of to-day songs have arisen in much the same way. The difference of environment must necessarily make a difference in the nature of the songs; at the same time the coloring of present-day life is much in evidence in some of the old songs composed by the slaves but sung by the negroes of the present generation. Some suggestions as to the natural origin and growth of negro songs may be both interesting and valuable. The negroes have always been known as full of feeling and very expressive. Their natures demand not only some expression of their emotions but this expression must be easy and rhythmic, at the same time that it is intense and continuous. The negro’s musical nature[Pg 18] easily turns these expressions into melody, and a word, phrase or exclamation becomes a song in itself. The song is completed by the imaginative mind and the sense of fitness in sound. Worshippers often follow the preacher through his sermon in a mental state of song and when he has finished they burst out into song, singing no other than an elaborate sentence which the preacher has used in his sermon. When this is joined to a familiar chorus and tune, and then varied, a song has originated. Sometimes the song is remembered and sung again; sometimes, like the words of the preacher, it simply becomes a part of the satisfaction of the hour and is forgotten. A negro preacher recently reached a climax in his discourse in the phrase, “Oh, with the wings of the morning, I’d fly to that heavenly land.” He repeated this a number of times and made gestures with his arms suggestive of flying. His black robe added to the forcefulness of the suggestion and the impression became a part of the song of that church. So with praying, the pathetic appeal and word-music of a p-l-e-a-s-e My Lo-rd is often the inspiration for a song when a happy phrase from the prayer becomes an addition to a song that follows. Even more than preaching and praying, shouting gives rise to song among the negroes; during exciting times in worship the negroes often sing unheard of songs nor do they ever recall them again. It is indeed a mixed scene of song and motion, each contributing largely to the other, while the spectator looks on in wonderment at the astonishing inventiveness of the worshippers. The general motion, expressions of the face, words and harmonies, rests and rhythm, sense of fitness and even of humor, repetition—these make an occasion that defies limitation to its expression. If a single personality dominates the whole in an expression that appeals to the present sense of fitness, he is the author of a new song. Such a personality in the person of a visiting minister recently shouted out during such a scene: “Oh, the hearse-wheel a-rollin’ an’ the graveyard opening—h-a, ha,” but got no further for his refrain was taken up by the chorus and the next day was a new version of the well-known song. Such occasions might be cited in great numbers. Not infrequently a negro who has assumed the position of song leader sings a line while the others join in with a chorus of singing and shouting. When the leader has given all the lines that he knows, he will often continue in the simplest manner possible, as if he had known them for a long[Pg 19] time, to improvise lines, which often have little meaning, but which fit into the tune and sound well. This process may be continued indefinitely, sometimes with repetition of lines already uttered but slightly varied and the emphasis placed on the differing particular. It thus happens that the songs need not have a limit. The necessity of the occasion becomes the cause for the invention of the song. Itinerant worshippers are often thus gratified to sing to new congregations. As a rule the negroes always give attention and respect to strangers so that the man or woman who comes to them is at liberty to sing old or new songs, and they often become skilled in improvising songs. The new songs are then learned and begin their history as folk-song. Again, negroes often feel themselves called upon to introduce new features into some of their songs and conceive of various novelties. The negro’s feeling toward leadership puts a premium upon such a practice. In this effort, a song that is little known among the negroes will be changed in some particulars, printed on a sheet of paper and distributed as the song of brother or sister So and So. The song may be found in a hymn book. However, songs entirely new and the efforts of their own poetic attempts are often thus circulated. This gives rise to a new class of negro spirituals, examples of which may be seen in the following pages. A number of popular spirituals apparently had their rise in the effort of the church to satisfy the physical cravings of the negroes. The church deemed the fiddle and the dance instruments of the devil, and although the negro was and is passionately fond of dancing, he was forbidden by the church to do so. The church needed some kind of substitute for the rhythm and excitement of the dance that would satisfy and still be “in the Lord.” Consequently marching services were often instituted. The benches were piled up together and marching room left for the worshippers. They had various orders for this service and many forms of it have been known to exist. Sometimes they marched two by two, a “sister and brother in the Lord”, sometimes they marched singly, and at other times they marched in a general “mix-up.” At first they followed a leader to a simple melody, keeping step and working into a rhythmic swing. Then as they became more excited they became more expressive and with the elaboration of the march into a dance their songs became marching songs. Often they thus marched, with intervals for rest, until the hours of[Pg 20] the morning. Sometimes they all sang; sometimes the leader sang the leading part and all joined in the chorus with more satisfactory effect. In the march the negroes swayed back and forth, to and fro, and found the usual satisfaction that comes from absolute lack of restraint. As the songs given in the following pages indicate, the negroes often imagined themselves to be the children of Israel, while their marching songs represented Moses leading them out from under the bondage of Pharaoh, or they considered themselves as marching around the wall of some besieged city. Victory would be theirs sooner or later. This is not confined to the songs composed by the slavery negroes, but is common in the later songs. Such scenes are often portrayed by negro preachers of the present day and very appropriate applications, as they think, are made. The march songs that have been found current to-day were composed since the war. Often the negroes enacted similar scenes without the formal putting away of the benches in the church, and the same general results were the outcome. Shouting scenes in negro worship to-day are very much similar to the old marches except that they are more promiscuous. The “strange, sweet harmonies and melodies” of the old songs are still good shouting songs. Individuals have composed spirituals while at work or while wandering from place to place, as a simple outgrowth of the circumstances. The expression, so common in negro songs, “O my Lord”, seems to have been introduced into a number of songs in this way. The single expression repeated itself forms a favorite melody that is often sung. A group of negroes sing while working; one sings a new verse of the song: “Where you git dat?” “I made hit maself, didn’t you know I’m a songster?” And he did make it, and thus gratified, tries other attempts; with him others begin and they have become “songsters”. Negroes, in order to verify a boast that they know a certain song to exist, have been known to compose on the moment just such a song, mixing all sorts of songs together with the ideas that arise. Others who have been offered an attractive price for songs have composed them without scruples of conscience and when asked to sing them, have done so with perfect ease. They were paid for the songs, thinking that they had “fooled that white man”, who valued his song thus composed as much perhaps as an old spiritual that was still current. What the negro composed accidentally he learned to sing, and thus[Pg 21] introduced a real song in his community, which was to be soon carried to other localities. The negro is going to sing whether he has a formal song or not. The following song originated with two negro laborers, apparently in a dialogue. The lines may be sung to any tune and put to any chorus. The church bell a ringin’, how sweet I do declar’. Why don’t you go to meetin’ an’ pray all day long? I’m goin’ to church an’ pray all day long. Of course I’m a sinner but prayin’ might do me good An’ if I do succeed I sure will tell the news. Another song that was composed spontaneously in the effort to dignify his conversation is the following. It will be seen that for the most part it is composed of phrases common to other songs, and it is only the combination that is new. Walk right and do right an’ trust in the Lord— Lay down all yo’ sinful ways an’ trust in the Lord. I am goin’ to trust in the Lord, I am goin’ to trust in the Lord, I’m goin’ to trust in the Lord till I die. My God he’s a wonderful God an’ trust in the Lord, He will answer yo’ prayers don’t care wher’ you are, An’ trust in the Lord. The next example was composed by a negro man after he had recently “come through.” He always loved to talk of what he had seen, what he knew would happen and how he could get out of difficulties. Along with this he had an unusually imaginative mind and told many ingenious stories. Here is the song: The devil come down to the worl’ one day An’ I heard him holler, hoo-ray, hoo-ray! Come out, I’m havin’ a holiday. That was the word I heard him say, But I knowed if I danced to his holiday, There’d be something doing an’ the devil to play. The above song is difficult to classify. It would seem to be very much like some rhymes that the negro had seen published in a newspaper but for all his purposes it was a good song and it mattered little where he had obtained the ideas. It was indeed his own song. One[Pg 22] other example of an effort to compose a new song shows the tendency of the negro to mix his serious themes with ridiculous expressions. There was a man by the name of Cy, He never prayed an’ he never try, So when ole Cy was come to die, He hollow out, “in hell I’ll cry.” In hell ole Cy did cry, In hell ole Cy did cry, In hell ole Cy did cry, Now don’t you die like ole Cy die. The song is a variation of two or three secular songs and becomes a religious song because of its chorus. It is actually sung in the churches. The “author” continued, Ole Cy did lead a mighty bad life, He was always after some other man’s wife, which clearly showed the trace of the secular element; this phrase is applied to many of the notorious characters in the negro secular songs. Still there was an opportunity for the moral and the song represents the peculiar gratification which the negroes find in having composed something more or less original. Enough has been said to give a definite idea concerning the actual and possible origin of some of the negro folk-songs. Further examples will be given when the discussion of the negro’s secular song has been reached. The psychology of negro music and song is not difficult to explain in the light of the facts already suggested. His plaintive appeals in prayer, his emotional and religious nature, his primitive expression, his love of rhythm and melody, his feelings and misguided imagination, his interpretation of life and Scripture, his faith in dreams and visions quickly exaggerated into fabrications, his whole nature but reveals within him what we call the musical nature of the race. With the negro, motion and song instinctively go together. Systematic movement is more conducive to singing than a careless, haphazard motion. Movement and song give rhythm that is not to be found under other circumstances. Regularity and rhythm in movement, emphasis and rhythm in music, these give the negro songs essential pleasure-giving qualities that appeal strongly to the negro’s entire being. If his music is primitive and if it has much of the sensuous in it; if his songs and verse are full of primitive art having[Pg 23] many qualities of possible worth, nevertheless they are not thereby rendered less distinct. In no way can a better insight into the negro’s religion be obtained than by a careful study of his songs. An analysis of those songs that have been preserved will give us at once a better conception of his folk-songs and his religion. The references are reproduced in their exact forms in order that they may serve as an aid in the study of the verse contained in the common songs of the negroes from the time of slavery to the present day. Only the chief conceptions which have been portrayed in negro song are here given; further analysis may be made in connection with the songs themselves. The devil is prominent in the religious songs of the negroes. He is the constant terror and proverbial enemy of the race. He is alive, alert, and concrete. He represents the demon trickster incarnate in the form of a man. He is the opposite of God but always less powerful. He is the enemy against whom the battle is always on; it is a personal battle, but he is usually outwitted or disappointed. Here are some pictures of “Old Satan” as found in the songs of the slave and the negro of to-day:[3] Ef you want to see ole satan run, Jes’ fire off dat gospel gun. Ole satan is a liar an’ conjurer, too, An’ if you don’t mind he’ll conjure you. Other forms are An’ if you don’t mind he’ll cut you in two, An’ if you don’t mind he’ll cut you through. Ole satan lak a snake in the grass, Always in some Christian’s path, or If you don’t mind he’ll git you at las’. Ole satan weahs a mighty loose ole shoe, If you don’t min’ gwine a slip it on you. Ole satan like dat hunting dog, He hunt dem Christians home to God. O shout, shout, de debbil is about, O shut yo’ do’ an’ keep him out. [Pg 24] All de debbils in hell can’t pluck me out, An’ I wonder what satan’s a grumblin’ erbout, He’s boun’ in hell an’ can’t get out, But he shall be loose an’ hab his way, Yonder at de great reserection day. I went down de hillside to make a one prayer, An’ when I get dere ole satan wus dere, O what you think he said to me? Said, “Off frum here you better be.” Old satan tole me to my face, “I’ll git you when a you leave this place;” O brother dat scere me to my heart, I was ’feared to walk a when it wus dark. I started home but I did pray, An’ I met ole satan on de way; Ole satan made a one grab at me, But he missed my soul an’ I went free. I tell you brother you better not laugh, Ole satan’ll run you down his path, If he runs you lak he run me, You’ll be glad to fall upon yo’ knee. We shout so fas’ de debbil look, An’ he gits away wid his cluven foot. Ole satan is mad an’ I am glad, He missed the soul he thought he had. What make ole satan hate me so? ’Cause he got me once an’ let me go. Ole satan tole me not to pray; He want my soul at jedgement day. I wrestle wid satan and wrestle wid sin, Stepped over hell an’ come back agin. Ole satan tremble when he sees, The weakest saint upon his knees. Go ’way satan I doan min’ you; You wonder, too, you can’t come through? Oh brother, breth’ren, you better be engaged, For de debbil he’s out on a big rampage. I plucked one block out o’ satan’s wall, I heard him stumble an’ saw him fall. Ole satan thought he had me fas’, Broke his chain an I’m free at las’. I met ole satan in my way; He say, young man, you too young to pray. [Pg 25] The devil tries to throw down everything that’s good, He’d fix a way to confuse the righteous if he could, Thanks be to God-er-mighty he can’t be beguiled, Ole satan will be done fighting after awhile. The negroes have many other phrases which they apply to satan and picture him in other relations. “Ole satan is a mighty busy ole man, an’ throw rocks in my way.” “What makes ole satan follow me so? Satan ain’t got nothin’ fer to do with me.” As a busy man he also has his “shield and sword”, not only gives trouble but gets into trouble. Says the negro: “I heard de debbil howlin’ when I come out’n de wilderness an’ I gib de debbil battle.” “Now stan’ back, satan, an’ let me go by ... why doan de debbil let a me be?” “Ole satan mighty busy, he follow me night an’ day. Ole satan toss ball at me, he think the ball hit my soul, the ball for hell an’ me for heaven.” “Ole satan gettin’ in mighty rage”, for “satan’s camp’s afier.” “Satan mount de iron gray hoss an’ ride half way to pilot bar.” But “We’ll shout ole satan’s kingdom down, gwine a pull down satan’s kingdom, gwine a win ag’in de debbil.” Victory is the negro’s for he exclaims: “I saw dem bindin’ satan”, and “I saw ole satan’s kingdom fallin’.” But while satan is a great schemer and is very busy and “wash his face in ashes”, “put on leather apron”, his greatest attribute is the liar. The negro cannot give too insistent warning: When I got dere Cap’n satan wus dere. Sayin’ “Young man, dere’s no use to pray, For Jesus is daid an’ God gone away.” An’ I made ’im out a liar an’ went on my way. With these pictures and warnings the negro song gives a final bit of advice. “If you ain’t got de grace ob God in yo’ heart, den de debbil will git you sho’”, then the singer rests securely in the knowledge that he is filled with the grace that holds against the devil. “King Jesus” was the original name most commonly given to Christ in the spirituals. Besides this He was the bosom friend of the negro. He comes in to intercept satan and to save the individual from hell. He is very real and no one is more vividly described than He. He bears many relations to his people. Now my Jesus bein’ so good an’ kind, [Pg 26]My Jesus lowered his mercy down, An’ snatch me from de doors of hell, An’ took me in with him to dwell. Oh, Jesus tole you once befo’ To go in peace and sin no mo’. I heard o’ my Jesus many one say, Could move po’ sinner’s sins away. Den Jesus he come ridin’ by, Gib me wings to ride an’ fly. Jesus Christ the first and las’, No man wuks lak him; He built a platform in de air, He meets de saints from eve’where. Virgin Mary had one son, The cruel Jews had him hung. Me an’ my Jesus goin’ live at ease, Me an’ my Jesus goin’ do as we please. If you want er die like Jesus died, Fold yo’ arms an’ clasp yo’ eyes. I tell you breth’ren an’ I tell you twist, My soul done anchored in Jesus Christ. Up on de hillside King Jesus spoke, Out of his mouth come fire an’ smoke. Yer say yo’ Jesus set you free; Why don’t you let yo’ neighbors be? Other shorter lines give equally concrete pictures and mention equally definite attributes. You’ll see my Jesus come to wake up de nations underground. King Jesus died for every man. An’ de son He set me free. I got my Jesus as well as you. If you want to see Jesus go in de wilderness. Gwine serve my Jesus till I die. I call my Jesus king Emanuel. He pluck my feet out’n de miry clay. He sot dem on de firm rock of age. Christ hab bought yo’ liberty. King Jesus’ settin’ in de kingdom. De win’ blow eas’ an’ de win’ blow wes’ from Jesus. Oh yonder comes my Jesus, I know him by his shinin’. Hear my Jesus when he call you? Hear my Jesus callin’? I’m goin’ to hebben where my Jesus dwell. O I walk and talk with Jesus. [Pg 27]Jesus loosen de man frum under de groun’. Jesus ain’t comin’ here to die no mo’. The son of man he dunno where to lay his weary head. See what wonder Jesus done: Jesus make dumb to speak. Jesus make de cripple walk. Jesus gib de blin’ deir sight. Jesus do mos’ anything. I want to do (or die) like Jesus. Jesus stan’ on de udder side Jordan. Jesus settin’ on de water side. Jesus is our captain, Jesus got de hellum. Jesus mount (ride) a milk-white hoss. You had better follow Jesus. Daddy Peter set out for Jesus. Jesus will bring you milk an’ honey. Mas’ Jesus is my bosom friend. Gwine follow King Jesus, I really do believe. King Jesus he was so strong, my Lord, till he jar down de walls ob hell. Gwine to write to my Jesus. King Jesus settin’ in de heaven. King Jesus on de mountain top. O Jesus is a mighty man. Ride in kind Jesus, who set po’ sinner free. For Jesus came an’ lock de do’. De Jews kill po’ Jesus. Jesus call you—Jesus waitin’. I wus los’ in de wilderness; Jesus hand me de candle down. Mas’ Jesus gib me little broom fer to sweep my heart clean. Jesus fed me when I was hungry, he clothed me when I was naked, he gave me drink when I was dry. Jesus rose an’ flew away on Sunday morning. Christ was there four thousand years ago, drinking of the wine. Jesus he wore the starry crown. Did you see Jesus when he wore the starry crown? Jesus he wore long white robe. King Jesus speaks an’ de chariot stops. King Jesus is the Rock. Well did you say you love Jesus? Jesus done bless my soul an’ gone to glory. Won’t you ride on Jesus? O yes. I look fer Jesus all o’ my days. Jesus is a listening all the day long. The scenes of the crucifixion seem to impress the negroes very forcibly and their songs abound in references to His suffering. Some of these expressions are full of feeling, and are touching in their sentiment. They nail my Jesus down [Pg 28]They put him on the crown of thorn (thorny crown). O see my Jesus hangin’ high! He look so pale an’ bleed so free: O don’t you think it was a shame, He hung three hours in dreadful pain? Next to Jesus and often synonymous with Him is God. He is “My Lord”, “My God”, “Lord God-er-mighty”, and “king Jehobah”, and represents the personal God and the ruler of the world. Upon de mountain Jehobah spoke, Out o’ his mouth come fire an’ smoke. My God a walkin’ down hebbenly road, Out o’ his mouth come two edged sword. If yo’ find yo’ way to God, The gospel highway mus’ be trod. De father he look upon de Son an’ smile, De Son he look on me, De Father redeem my soul from hell, De Son he set me free. I’m a chile of God wid my soul set free. For Christ hab bought my liberty. I’m goin’ home fer to see my Lord. My Lord did give me ease. Ever since my Lord set me free. I believe it for God he tole me so. O my Lord’s comin’ ag’in, It may be las’ time. I don’t know. I goin’ to do all I can fer my Lord; I goin’ to mourn, pray, weep all I can fer my Lord. The Lord is a listenin’ all the day long. My Lord is a talkin (preachin’) at de jedgement day. De Lord goin’ to wake up the dead. My Lord come down wid de key an’ unlock de jail house do’. O, my Lord’s a doctor in a weary lan’; My Lord’s a preachin’ and teachin’, and walkin’ in a weary lan’. My Lord calls me by the thunder; by the lightning. Dat mus’ be my Lord in the cloud. My Lord says there’s room enough. I’m goin’ to tell God ’bout my trials. Thank God-a-mighty, My God’s been here. When I talk I talk wid God. Gwine to chatter wid de Fadder. My Fadder call an’ I mus’ go. My righteous Lord shall fin’ you out. Look to de Lord wid a tender heart. [Pg 29]O de Lord He plant de garden dere and raise de fruit for you to eat. O de Lord He comfort sinner. God did go to Moses house an’ tell him who He wus. God an’ Moses walked and talked an’ God did sho’ him who He wus. God sits in Heaven an’ answers prayer. I gwine tell God how you sarved me. Look in my God’s right hand. His chariot wheels roll round. God’s goin’ call dem chilluns frum de distant lan’. My Lord’s a-ridin’ all the time. De Lord has been here an’ de love come tricklin’ down. Me an’ my God goin’ to walk an’ talk. O God don’t talk lak a nat’ral man. My Lord God-ermighty come a steppin’ down, come a steppin’ down on a sea ob glass. Heaven for the negro is an eternal resting place where he shall occupy the best place. It is a place of glory and splendor in the material sense. Nor does he think that he will fail to miss his home when he dies. Hell is a place for thieves and sinners and liars, but such persons are far removed from him. His religion is the panacea for all evils and all sins, and when he has the “love of God in his heart” nothing can doom him, for has he not been “washed in the blood of the lamb?” and had not the “blood done sign his name”? His ideas of heaven are those which his mind naturally conceives of as applying to a home; his conclusions from the Scriptures are not unusual. A few of the references to heaven will give a better conception of the negro’s reality and vividness of interpretation. I want to go to heaven when I die, To shout salvation as I fly. You say yer aiming fer de skies, Why don’t yer quit yer tellin’ lies. I hope I git dere bye an’ bye, To jine de number in de sky. When I git to heaven gwine to ease, ease, Me an’ my God goin’ do as we please, Settin’ down side o’ de holy Lamb. When I git to heaven goin set right down, Gwin-er ask my Lord fer starry crown. Now wait till I gits my gospel shoes, Gwin-er walk ’bout heaven an’ carry de news. We’ll walk up an’ down dem golden streets, We’ll walk about Zion. [Pg 30] Gwine sit in de kingdom, I raly do believe, where sabbaths have no end. Look way in de heaven—hope I’ll jine de band—Sittin’ in de kingdom. I done bin to heaven an’ I done bin’ tried. Dere’s a long white robe in de heaven for me, Dere’s a golden crown, golden harp, starry crown, silver slippers in heaven for me I know. O yes I’m gwine up to see my Lord; gwine all de way up to see my robe; O de heaven is shinin’, shinin’. Gwine shout in hebben, gwine hab a big meetin’. If you want to go to heaven come along wid me. Take my flight up to de skies in de mornin’. O de heaven gates are open. Gwine up to heaven where my Jesus dwells. My Jesus walkin’ de hebbenly road. De bell is ringin’ in odder bright worl’. If you touch one strin’ de whole hebben ring. De sun gib light in de hebben all round. I wish I wus in de kingdom settin’ side o’ my Lord. No more hard trial in de kingdom; no more tribulation, no more parting, no more quarreling, backbiting in de kingdom, No more sunshine fer to bu’n you; no more rain fer to wet you. Ev’y day will be Sunday in heaven. Sweet music in heaven jes beginning to roll. Goin feast off’n milk an’ honey. The negro does not dwell upon thoughts of hell as he does of heaven. Even if he has “stepped over hell an’ come back ’gain,” he does not reveal so much of its character. Some conceptions, however, are definite enough. O hell is deep an’ hell is wide, O hell ain’t got no bottom or side. I’d rather pray myself away, Than live in hell an’ burn one day. O when I git to hebben, I’ll be able to tell, How I shunned dat dismal hell. Ev’y since my Lord done set me free, Dis ole worl’ bin a hell to me. When I come to find out I’s on de road to hell, I fleed to Jesus. The negro song finds little satisfaction in his various ideas of hell. “This ole world’s a hell to me,” says the negro; but “hell is a dark and dismal place,” so that the only immediate conclusion which he[Pg 31] can reach is that he must “shun de gates of hell” and make for the home beyond the Jordan. A rich variety of references to scriptural characters is seen in the majority of the negro spirituals, both of the past and of the present. The negro portrays the conduct of heroes in the past with imaginative skill. Their songs are often running-stories of scripture, in which the effort is made to include as many characters as possible and at the same time draw conclusions which have suitable morals, but these songs may be better studied in the examples that follow. Some of the typical references to the Scriptures will show the average interpretation given them by the negroes. O, sisters, can’t you help me sing, For Moses’ sister did help him. Where wus Ezekiel when de church fell down? Down in de valley wid his head hung down. Ezekiel said he spied de train a comin’, He got on board an’ she never stop runnin’. God made Adam an’ Adam wus first, God made Adam out o’ the dust o’ the earth. Well God show Noah de rainbow sign, No more water but fire nex’ time. Mose live till he got old, Buried in de mountain so I’m told. Mary wept and Martha mourned, Jesus Christ laid de corner stone. Mary wore the golden chain, Every link was in Jesus’ name. Judas was a deceitful man— Well he betrayed the innercent lam’. John wrote a letter an’ he wrote it in haste, If yer want to go to heaven, you better make haste. John declar he saw a man, Wid seben lamps in his right han’. The negroes wonder “wher’s sister Mary, Martha, Brudder Moses, brudder Daniel (and the others) gone.” So, too, “Sister Hannah, Hagar, brudder Moses” and the rest “took dey seat.” And again, “Wondah whar good ole Daniel, doubtin’ Thomas, sinkin’ Peter” and others. Moses “smote de water” and the negro says: I want to go where Moses trod, For Moses gone to de house o’ God. [Pg 32]Peter is commanded again and again to “go ring dem bells”; “Daddy Peter go to Jesus”, “Fisherman Peter out at sea”, the latter perhaps being the origin of “sinkin’ Peter.” Elijah is one of the favorites of the Old Testament. “Elijah gwine ride in de chariot in de mornin’”, and Isaiah who “mounted on de wheel o’ time” is a kindred character to Ezekiel and Elijah. Jacob’s ladder and struggle is vivid enough to be sung. “I’m gwine climb up Jacob’s ladder”; “Rastlin’ Jacob, let me go.” “Jacob tremblin’ on a limb.” Noah’s victory is the common theme. “Dey call Brudder Noah a foolish man”, but that makes no difference for “de Lord tole Noah fer to build him ark”, and “de ole ark a moverin.” The negro remarks characteristically: “God placed Adam in de garden, ’was ’bout de cool o’ day.” Gabriel is proverbial and the attitude of the singer is always ready “fer to hear Gabriel blow his horn.” “Don’t you hear Gabriel’s trumpet in de mornin’”? “Little David play on de harp” has been a shining example for many another “David” who loved to blow on his harp. “Father Abraham sittin’ down side o’ de holy Lamb”, is almost synonymous with Christ. Prominent among the clear impressions made by the Scriptures is that of the delivery of Daniel, the Hebrew children and Jonah. However, one must read the songs in order to get the full significance of the references. Although the negro bases everything in his religion upon the Bible, and his songs and sermons and exhortations abound in quotations from the “Holy word”, he has comparatively little to say of the Bible itself as a book. He thinks sometimes that it is a “cumpass” and also bases his convictions on the truth of the Bible. He asks “How do you know? For my Bible hit tell me so.” For in dat Bible you will see. Jesus died fer you an’ me. Matthew, Mark, Luke an’ John Tell me where my Master’s gone. Go read de fifth of Matthew An’ read de chapter through, It is de guide to Christians An’ tell ’em what to do. Now take yo’ Bible an’ read it through, An’ ev’y word you fin’ is true. As the Bible is the compass, so sometimes the Holy Ghost is thought[Pg 33] of as the pilot. The Holy Ghost is too vague for the negroes to fathom and is not tangible enough for their imaginations. But he says: “If this ain’t de holy Ghost I don’t know”, but goes little further. Just as the negro expects to talk and walk with God and Jesus, so he looks forward to seeing the angels in Heaven. He wants to see them with their white robes and hear them sing; he even says they mourn. “Bright angels hoverin’ on de water by de light”, are but a part of the angel band which he hopes to join. “Join de hebben wid de angels” is his watchword and by it he sees in his child-like fancy all the beauties of ideal creatures. I’m gwine to keep a climbin’ high, Till I meet dem angels in de sky. Dem pooty angels I shall see— Why doan de debbil let a me be? O when I git to heaven goin’ sit an’ tell, Three archangels gwine er ring dem bells. Two white angels come a walkin’ down, Long white robes an’ starry crown. What’s dat yonder dat I see? Big tall angel comin’ after me. The negro makes a terrible picture of the day of judgment. For him it means everything that could possibly happen at the end of the world. It is the destruction of the sinner and the glory of the righteous. Nor does he hesitate to affirm that the Christian in heaven will shout amen to the sinner’s damnation. The sinner will see his mother and friends in heaven while he is doomed to hell. It serves as a warning theme for the song more than it indicates reality of thought. But here is a part of his picture: My Lord what a morning when de stars begin to fall, You’ll see de worl’ on fire, You’ll see de moon a bleedin’ an’ De moon will turn to blood, Den you’ll see de elements a meltin’, You’ll see de stars a fallin’, O yes, de stars in de elements a fallin’, An’ de moon drips way in blood, When God goin’ call dem childuns from de distant lan’, Den you see de coffins bustin’, [Pg 34]Den you see de bones a creepin’, Den you see po’ sinner risin’, Den you hear de tombstones crackin’, An’ you see de graves a bustin’, Hell an’ seas gwine give up their daid, Den you see de forked lightenin’, Den you hear de rollin’ thunder, Earth shall reel an’ totter, Hell shall be uncapped, De dragon be loosed, Don’t you hear them sinners cryin’? Such a scene vividly told of at a revival and sung to the associations of the moment is too much for the average negro; the sinner cries for mercy and turns to a Christian; the latter sings: “Fare you well po’ sinner” and A mighty sea of glass mingled wid fier, Good-bye, brother, I’m goin’ higher. Along with the scenes which are associated with the resurrection and judgment go the sadder strains of the “mourners”; “weepin’ mournin’, cry’n’”—these will be much in evidence. A study of the songs that follow will give some idea of the emotional nature of the themes and music. The negroes sing sympathy. “Weepin’ Mary, weep no mo’”—“Mary wept, Martha cried”, why can’t they too? “Now ain’t dis hard trial and tribulation?” He sings often in his songs of hard times and trials. “When you see me,” he says, “pity me.” “Nobody knows de trubble I seen” but “I boun’ to leave dis worl’; Fare you well, dere’s a better day comin’.” His prayers are more pathetic than his songs; his appeals interpret the spirit of song and of worship. But one would scarcely look for a more pathetic wail than that of the negro who sings Sometimes I hangs my head an’ cries, But Jesus goin’ to wipe my weep’n’ eyes. If the negro loves to mourn and if his songs are full of sadness and pathos, he also loves to shout and vigorously defends the right to shout as much as he pleases. His songs have many “Hallelujahs” in them; many notes of victory may be read in the songs of his choice. They often sing, however, the songs which should be the most joyous in the same sad and plaintive tone of the sadder ones. They forget the words. In many, however, the shouting takes away any sadness and these livelier songs voice the light and sensuous emotions equally[Pg 35] as well as the more serious ones tell of hardships. The negro maintains that always and everywhere, “You’ll hear the Christian shout.” “De richest man I ever seed, his heart was fill wid Jesus an’ Holy Ghost.” “I got de glory in my soul” he says and I real’y do b’lieve widout a doubt, Dat de church hab a mighty right to shout. I tell you what I lak de bes’, It is dem shoutin’ Mefodes’. If the negro’s mother and sister and father and preacher and the others, as the songs put it, “died a shoutin’,” why he is “goin’ die shoutin’ too.” Gwine hab happy meetin’, Gwine shout in hebben, Gwine shout an’ nebber tire, O slap yo’ han’s chilluns, O pat yo’ feets chilluns, I feels de spirit movin’ O now I’m gittin’ happy. Of true love and devotion to God one finds little definite and concrete expressions as compared with other themes. The negro is constantly affirming his love for “his Jesus” and offering his eternal allegiance in a general way. But in the average instance the testimony is subordinated to some special word or phrase which receives the greater part of the significance in the song. What does he mean when he asks: “Does yo’ love continue true?” or when he insists: “I wants to know, does you love yo’ Jesus?” The negroes are often heard to say that they want to do something “for the Lord”. In the same way they sing “I goin’ to weep all I can for my Lord, I goin’ pray all I can for my Lord, I goin’ do all I can for my Lord.” In each case the relation of the negro and his God are ideal and he conceives of his own deeds as being, not the practical every-day life, but as coming in the future when there will be nothing unpleasant about them. It was doubted if the negro’s ideas of God and Heaven and his relation to them were truly expressed in his songs. A series of experiments were made with negro children, wherein questions were answered by them at the time they were given, others being carried to their homes or teachers. Their ideas of hell and heaven, God and the angels are almost identical. Perhaps some of them were gained from[Pg 36] the songs; some of them were certainly not; all seemed to agree with each other and with those of the race in a remarkable way. Nature contributes something to the negro spirituals. Certain parts of nature are symbolic and serve to convey the picture of a vivid imagination as nothing else can do. The wonders of God and the terrors of the judgment must be seen in their relation and effect upon the forces of nature. Certain natural phenomena inspire awe and reverence; they add thus to the conception of his religious fear. Other references to nature convey, as they only could, pleasing features of life, hence of heaven and God. The negro refers to the “break o’ day”, the “settin’ o’ the sun”, the “cool o’ de evenin’” and each is very expressive. Morning and evening are common; he prays in the evening perhaps; in the morning he is going to heaven. The hillside, the mountain and mountain top, the valley, signify and typify the experiences of the Christian of the past and present; the heavenly breeze comes from the valley. The negro sees a paradise and a wilderness, a sunshine and a storm. But Dere’s a tree in paradise, Christians call de tree ob life, and he faithfully believes “I specs to eat de fruit off’n dat tree”. The earth trembles and is jarred; the sky is “shook.” The river is “chilly an’ cold, wide an’ deep.” The “rock” is better than the miry clay and “nebber mind de sun—see how she run.” The stars, moon, and world fall, bleed, and burn. The thunder and the lightning are in the stormy cloud; Jesus may be, too. Satan is a snake in the grass and a hunting dog. Young lambs and “de sheep done know de road.” The summer, spring, flowers and the field are mentioned. The negro wishes he had wings like Noah’s dove. He is sometimes awed: I looked toward dat northern pole, I seed black clouds of fire roll. With his vivid imagination the negro feels much of the thought expressed in the folk-song. Thus sin and the sinner are intimately connected with life and death, religion and repentance. How skillfully the songs express the folk-feeling may better be inferred in the further analysis of the following [Pg 37] Types of Negro Spirituals. An exact classification of negro songs, either as to subject-matter or as to form, is scarcely possible. There is little unity of thought in their content; their metres conform to no consistent standards. A single favorite stanza, regardless of its meaning, is constantly being sung in a dozen different songs. It is a distinct folk-song; and it matters little to which one it belongs; it serves its purpose in any one of them. So in the form of the verse, a single tune is adapted to lines that differ widely in length; likewise a single line is not infrequently made to fit into any tune that is desired. Again, no final version of any song can be given. The lines are rarely sung in exactly the same form. There are ordinarily as many versions of a line as there are combinations of the words without spoiling the effect of the rhyme or emphatic word. The stanzas have no order of sequence, but are sung as they occur in the mind of the singer; a song does not have a standard number of stanzas, but the length depends upon the time in which it is wanted to sing that particular song. In the songs that follow the most common versions are given. In giving the dialect no attempt is made at consistency; for the negro of the present generation has no consistency of speech. He uses “the” and “de”, “them” and “dem”, “gwine” and “goin’”, “and” and “an’”, together with many other varied forms, which will be noted in a later chapter; nor does it matter that each of the forms is used in the same line or stanza. In the old songs that are here quoted for comparisons, the exact form of speech in which they have been published is used. In the miscellaneous songs gathered here and there, what may be called the average dialect is used. The songs that form the basis of this work are those that are found among the present-day negroes of the South; in many cases the corresponding song of earlier days is given in order that a better study of the folk-songs may be made and the many points of resemblance noted. In all instances the basis of the chapter is the present-day song, and these should not be confused with those that have already been published. The words of the chorus and refrain are italicized. Further particulars will be pointed out in connection with the several songs. Perhaps no better beginning can be made towards general classification of the religious songs of the negroes than by introducing some[Pg 38] that combine several characteristics, but still have a general theme predominating. Sin is an important factor in the religious life of the negro and his songs refer to it in many forms. The three general tones which pervade the theme are: A note of victory over sin and the conception of it as being in the past or belonging to some other person; the conception of sin as being present and the singer as being in its grasp; and thirdly, the “sinner-man” himself and warnings given him. The very popular song, “All my Sins Done Taken Away” is typical of the first class mentioned above. There is no reason why the stanzas given below should come in the order presented, except that they are heard in this arrangement as much as in any other. The stanzas consist of two rhymed lines with the refrain. These, however, are usually extended to four, the first two and refrain being sung slowly and in a more or less plaintive tone, while the repetition of the same lines with the rhymed line and refrain are rapid and joyous. The common version follows. I’m goin’ to heaven an’ I don’t want ter stop, Yes, I’m goin’ to heaven an’ I don’t want ter stop, All o’ my sins done taken away, taken away; I’m goin’ to heaven an’ I don’t want ter stop, An’ I don’t want ter be no stumblin’ block, All my sins done taken away, taken away. Instead of repeating the chorus line at the end of the first two lines that are sung, the negroes often vary the song by repeating the last half of the line, as in the following stanza: Well “M” for Mary, an’ “P” for Paul, Well “M” for Mary, an’ “P” for Paul, An’ “P” for Paul; Well “M” for Mary an’ “P” for Paul. “C” for Chris’ who died for us all, All o’ my sins done taken away, taken away. The chorus is again varied from “all my sins” to “all o’ my sins” or “all of my sins,” “done taken away,” or “bin taken away,” while the entire line is sometimes changed in a single stanza. Sometimes it is sung as given above; at other times the line goes: “All my sins done taken away, bin’ taken away,” or omitting either “done” or “bin” it is sung equally well as “All my sins taken away, taken away,” while in the grand chorus at the climax of song the chorus goes: [Pg 39]Yes all o’ my sins bin taken away, Yes all my sins done taken away, Yes all o’ my sins done taken away, Yes all my sins done taken away, Glory, glory to His name-e, All my sins done taken away, taken away. This last chorus may be repeated whenever the singers do not think of words to fit in with the songs, although this is rarely necessary. The following stanzas are sung in the same manner as those just given. If I had er died when I wus young, I never would a had dis rist to run, All o’ my sins done taken away, taken away. Well you oughter bin dere to see de sight, The peoples come runnin’ both cullud an’ white. My feet got wet in de midnight dew, An’ de mornin’ star was a witness, too. If you doan b’leave I bin redeem, Jes follow me down to Jordan stream. When a sinner see me it make him laugh, Thank God-a-mighty, I’m free at las’. Mary wept an’ Martha mourned, Mary wept all ’round the throne. Mary wept an’ Martha mourned, All because deir brother done daid an’ gone. Mary wept an’ Martha cried, All ’cause dey brother done gone an’ died. I’m goin’ to ride on de mornin’ train, All don’t see me goin’ ter hear me sing. I’m gwine to heaven on eagle’s wing, All don’t see me goin’ ter hear me sing. My mother’s sick an’ my father’s daid, Got nowhere to lay my weary head. I went down in de valley to pray, My soul got happy an’ I stayed all day. A number of other versions are common. Instead of “Mary wept all ’round the throne” is sung “all ’round God’s hebbenly throne.” Instead of the morning star as a witness the old songs have it “angels witness too.” Instead of in the valley, the old songs also had “on de mountain” and also inserted “I didn’t go dere to stay.” This[Pg 40] version is sung in some of the songs still. “The Sabbath has no End” is the name of a favorite somewhat similar to “All my sins done taken away.” It has a number of forms for the chorus. I went down in de valley, I didn’t go ter stay, My little soul got happy An’ I like to a stayed all day. I thought I had religion, I b’lieve I thought I had religion, I b’lieve. I thought I had religion, I b’lieve, Dat Sabbath hath no end. I wouldn’t be a sinner, Tell you de reason why— Feard de good Lord might call me, An I wouldn’t be ready ter die. Gwine rock trubbel over, I b’lieve, Rock trubbel over, I b’lieve, Rock trubbel over, I b’lieve, Dat Sabbath has no end. Ole Satan’s mighty busy, Fixin’ up his snares, He’ll ketch all dem mourners, If dey don’t keep deir prayers. Yer better get ready, I b’lieve Yer better get ready, I b’lieve, Yer better get ready, I b’lieve, Dat Sabbath has no end. The singer is a little more definite in his convictions in “I am de light uv de Worl’”. He is no longer a sinner and looks forward to the time when he will “cross de ribber.” Hallaluyer, good Lord, I am de light uv de worl’, Halleluyer, good Lord, I am de light uv de worl’. Ever since my Lord done sot me free, Dis ole worl’ bin a hell to me, I am de light uv de worl’. I looked toward dat Northern pole, I seed black clouds of fier roll, I am de light uv de worl’. [Pg 41] I gwine ’clare de word, I am de light uv de worl’, I’m gwine ’clar de word, I am de light uv de worl’. Der ain’t but one train on dis track, Goes straight to heaven an’ run right back. I am de light uv de worl’. Ever since I bin in de worl’, I am de light uv de worl’, Ever since I been in de worl’, I am de light uv de worl’. When I cross Jordan I’ll be free, Gwine a slip an’ slide dem golden streets, I am de light uv de worl’. ’Way up in de kingdom, Lord, I am de light uv de worl’, ’Way up in de kingdom, Lord, I am de light uv de worl’. The negro is not troubled because he cannot see his Lord; he has heard Him speak and believes that He has gone “on to glory.” His personal relation with Jesus is satisfactory and he sings His praises often as he tells of his own experiences. Says he: One day, one day, while walkin’ along, Jesus done bless my soul; I heard a voice an’ saw no one, Jesus done bless my soul. O go an’ tell it on de mountain, Jesus done bless my soul; O go an’ tell it in de valley, Jesus done bless my soul. He done bless my soul an’ gone on to glory, Good Lord, Jesus done bless my soul; Done bin here an’ bless my soul an’ gone on to glory. Jesus done bless my soul. In one of the old plantation songs a similar idea is given of the blessing, but in a different version. One day when I wus walkin’ along, Oh yes, Lord, De element opened, an’ de Love came down, Oh yes, Lord, I never shall forget dat day, Oh yes, Lord, When Jesus washed my sins away, Oh yes, Lord. Another chorus inquired: “O brothers where were you? O sisters[Pg 42] where were you? O sinners, O Christians, O mourners, etc., where were you?” for “My good Lord’s bin here, bin here, bin here; My good Lord’s bin here, An’ he blessed my soul an’ gone.” So the negro exhorters often conclude their services, saying that the Lord has been to the meeting and gone. Said one deacon who was exhorting for a large collection: “De good Lord’s done bin with us to-night—I knows he has, done been here an’ gone, an’ now we wants to git down to bizness, I wants some money.” Again, the negro fresh and enthusiastic from his religious experience and having “come through” sings with some relief: I have been tryin a great long while, Lord, I jus’ got over on yo’ side. Lord, I jus’ got over-er, Lord, I jus’ got over, Lord, I jus’ got over-er, I jus’ got over on yo’ side. I pray’d an’ I pray till I come over, Lord, I jus’ got over on yo’ side. So also he “weeps” and he “mourns” and “cries” till he “gets over on the Lawd’s side.” Then he sings “O de sunshine,” O the sunshine, O the sunshine, O sunshine in my soul this mornin’, Yes the sunshine, the sunshine, Yes sun shine in my soul. Down in the valley, down on my knees, Sunshine in my soul, There I met that heavenly breeze, Sunshine in my soul. Ole devil like a snake in the grass, Sunshine in my soul, He’s always in some sister’s path, Sunshine in my soul. While the song is also sung at times with more dialect, it lends itself more readily to the above form. Very much mixed and somewhat similar to those already given is “Bless the Name.” I’ve got to go to judgment, I don’t know how soon, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name, I’ve got to go to judgment to hear my sins, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name. [Pg 43] My Jesus fed me when I’s hungry, gave me drink when I’s dry, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name, My Jesus clothed me when I was naked, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name. In the same song and with the same tune are sung the shorter lines that follow. The chorus is often sung “Lor’ bless the name”, and is a form of the phrase “Bless the name of the Lord.” It is used as a refrain after each line or it may be omitted. Mary wept and Martha mourned, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name, Jesus Chris’ laid the corner of stone, Lord bless the name, Lord bless the name. Mary wore the golden chain, Every link was in Jesus’ name. You may talk about me just as you please, I’ll talk about you when I git on my knees. God made man an’ man was sure, There was no sin an’ his heart was pure. God made Adam an’ Adam was first, God made Adam out o’ the dust o’ the earth. The old slave songs also had other interpretations of man’s creation which differ slightly in particular from the last stanza quoted. One form occurs in God made man an’ he made him out o’ clay, Settin’ on de golden altar, An’ he put him on de earth but he did not stay, Settin’ on de golden altar. A favorite chorus for the old spiritual was: “What you gwine do when de lamp burns down?” So there was also another version of the weeping of Mary and Martha: Mary wept an’ Martha cried, To see deir Saviour crucified, Weepin’ Mary weep no mo’, Jesus say he gone befo’. It proves an interesting task to follow the development and changes in a song that has survived from slavery days. In “Free, free my Lord”, one of the verses was quite a puzzle. During the recent summer the following stanza was heard: [Pg 44]The moon come down like a piper’s stem, The sun ’fuse to shine, An’ ev’y star disappear, King Jesus set me free. Inquiry was made in order to see if the words had not been misunderstood. The older negroes gave this version and insisted that it was correct, but none of them could explain what it meant. It was thought that perhaps it was a figure applied to the moon’s rays or that the loss of the sun might have meant the peculiar appearance of the moon. Anyway, they maintained, this was the “way we got de song an’ guess it must be right.” The words of the original song were, The moon run down in purple stream, The sun forbear to shine, An’ ev’y star disappear, King Jesus shall be mine, of which there seemed to be several versions. Other verses that are found to-day are: As I went down in de valley one day, I fell upon my knees, I begged and cried fer pardon, The Lord did give me ease. Free, free, my Lord, Free, free, my Lord, Free, free, my Lord, To march de heaven’s highway. The Lord called Moses, Moses refuse to answer, Free, free, etc. My mother look at de son an’ smile, My Father look at me, My mother turn my soul from hell, King Jesus set me free, is an unusual variation and interpretation of the old song; just how and when the negro inserted the idea of mother would be difficult to ascertain; perhaps it came from “master,” or more likely it was introduced by them while they interpreted father and son as names of the ordinary members of a human family. The original form seems to have been, De Father, he looked on de Son and smiled, [Pg 45]De Son, he looked on me; De Father, he redeemed my soul from hell; An’ de Son, he set me free. The chorus, too, has been much confused and is given as “Children light on dat cross, God bless you forever mo’.” The song is not a common one among the negroes and is not known, apparently, among the younger ones. In contrast with this favorite of the older negroes may be given a favorite of the younger generation, “Glad I got religion.” The repetition represents pretty well the relative depth of the feeling which the convert feels. But he loves to sing it for its pleasing sound and for the faith it gives him in his own religious state. The song is a long and continued chorus and may well be taken as a type of the song which reflects the negro’s feeling of immunity from sin. I’m so glad, so glad; I’m so glad, so glad, Glad I got religion, so glad, Glad I got religion, so glad. I’m so glad, so glad; I’m so glad, so glad, I’m glad all over, so glad, I’m glad all over, so glad. I’m so glad, so glad; I’m so glad, so glad, Glad I bin’ changed, so glad. Glad I bin’ changed, so glad. And so he continues singing; he is glad that he is goin’ to heaven, he is glad that he is not a sinner, glad he has been set free, and many other such states. Then when he has finished he begins all over again, if he wishes and sings: “Sister, ain’t you glad? Brother, ain’t you glad?” and goes through with as many of these as he wishes, preacher, mourner, auntie, and the others. The “sinner-man” is the theme for many verses of the negro favorites. Directed at him are warnings and admonitions. He is told what he must do and when; how he must do and why. He is told of the experiences of the Christians and he is told of the doom of the damned. The negro rejoices over his own safety and boasts of the sinner’s destruction; at the same time he constantly refers to the “po’ sinner” in a sympathetic way. But the sinner must be warned: God knows it’s time, it’s time, it’s time, That a sinner was makin’ up his min’ It’s time, it’s time he was makin’ up his min’ to die. A sinner was walkin’ off his time, his time, An’ when my God call him he did not have the time, God know it was time, it was time, it was time for him to die. [Pg 46]Again the words of the righteous to the sinner are driven home by repetition, and, by a dark and dismal picture, O hell is deep an’ hell is wide, O hell is deep an’ hell is wide, O hell is deep an’ hell is wide, O hell ain’t got no bottom or side. Well before I lay in hell all day, hell all day, Well before I lay in hell all day, hell all day, Well before I lay in hell all day, hell all day, I goin’ to sing an’ pray myself away, self away. O sinner don’t you let this harves’ pass, harves’ pass, O sinner don’t you let this harves’ pass, harves’ pass, O sinner don’t you let this harves’ pass, harves’ pass, Do you die an’ got to hell at las’, hell at las’. The sinner may be a gambler or a dancer or a rogue or a drunkard. But each name has the same signification in the religious phraseology of the negro song. There are various ways of repenting and of serving the Lord just as there are as many ways of offending and sinning against him. “Workin’ on the Building” appeals to the average negro. If I wus a sinner man, I tell you what I’d do, I’d lay down all my sinful ways an’ work on the building, too. I’m workin’ on the building fer my Lord, Fer my Lord, fer my Lord, I’m workin’ on the building fer my Lord, I’m workin’ on the building, too. If I wus a gamblin’ man, I tell you what I’d do, I’d lay down all my gamblin’, an’ work on the building, too. If I was a ho-munger, I tell you what I’d do, I’d lay down all my munglin’ and work on the building, too. And so he sings for the dancer and the drunkard and the “cussin’ man.” So in another song the negro sings of the sinners and mourners. If I wus a mourner jus’ like you, ‘u-m-u’, I’d go to church an’ try to come thru’, ‘um-u’. When I was a mourner, um-u’, jus’ lak you, I prayed an’ prayed till I come thru, um-u’. Upon de mountain King Jesus spoke, um-u’, Out of his mouth come fier an smoke, um-u’. Now mourner won’t you please come on, um-u’, An’ join us in that heavenly lan’, um-u’. [Pg 47]In the “Downward road is crowded” a mournful picture is given of the sinner who failed to repent. His example is held up for the contemplation of those who are following in his steps. Young people who delight in sin, I tell you what I lately seen, A po’ godless sinner die, An’ he said: “In hell I soon’ll lie.” Hark, the downward road is crowded, crowded, crowded, Yes the downward road is crowded with onbelievin’ souls. He call his mother to his bed, An’ these is the dyin’ words he said, Mother, mother, I long farewell, Your wicked son is damned in hell. He dance an’ play hisself away, An’ still put off his dyin’ day, Until at las’ ole death was sent, An’ it ’us too late fer him to repent. They also sing of mother and sister being called to the bedside. The old plantation song of the same name had a similar chorus but the stanzas were quite different. When I wus a sinner, I loved my distance well, But when I come to fin’ myself, I was hangin’ over hell. Ole Satan’s might busy, He follers me night an’ day, An’ every where I ’pinted, Dere’s something in my way. The Lord will come to judge the world and wake up the dead. It is the supreme ambition of the singer to be ready to meet his Lord when He comes. Just what form the Lord will take the negro does not say; perhaps it will be in a cloud or fire or He will come as in the days of Moses. “My Lord’s comin’ again” gives a general conception. O my Lord’s comin’ again, O my Lord’s comin’ again, (Talk about it:) Yes my Lord’s comin’ again, It may be las’ time, I don’t know. Well he’s comin’ to judge the worl’, Well he’s comin’ to judge the worl’, [Pg 48](Talk about it:) Yes my Lord’s comin’ to judge the worl’, It may be las’ time, I don’t know. Well you had better put off lyin’ shoes, Well you better put off lyin’ shoes, (Talk about it:) Better put off lyin’ shoes, For it may be las’ time, I don’t know. And so he sings “Better put off dancin’ shoes”, “better put off gamblin’ shoes”. For the sinner’s shoes will not be suitable to “walk on the cross”. He sings: “God’s goin’ to wake up the Dead” and makes a beautiful melody out of the simple repetition. Goin’ to wake up the dead, Goin’ to wake up the dead, God goin’ to wake up the dead, Who’s a sleepin’ in the grave, God is goin’ to wake up the dead. You had better min’ my brother how you walk on the cross, God’s goin’ to wake up the dead; If yo’ right foot slip, then yo’ soul be los’ God goin’ wake up the dead. Then “you better min’ my sister, my brother, my mother, my preacher” are sung. The old song contained words similar to the lines just given, with the chorus: “De young lambs mus’ fin’ de way”: My brudder better mind how you walk on de cross, For yo’ foot might slip an’ yo’ soul git lost, Better mind dat sun, and see how she run, An’ mind don’t let her catch ye wid yer works undone. But the sinner sometimes gets confused, it would seem; sometimes he heeds the preacher’s warnings, sometimes he scoffs at them. Often he does not hear them. More rarely he inquires into conditions. In the lines which follow the negroes make each a stanza, repeating three times. It perhaps represents the retort of the “sinner man.” Some goin’ thru’ Jordan, some tryin’ to go ’round. The Mef’dis’ they say sprinklin’, de Baptis say’ baptize. Now Lord the sinner man so hard to believe, Now Lord sinner man want you to show him de way But the sinner gets little reply to his inquiries. “Time is comin’ when sinner mus’ die” and there is none so pitiable as the lost sinner. [Pg 49]Sinner, die, sinner die, Sinner dies wid his head hung down, Sinner die, sinner die, Sinner die in de midnight dew. Sinner die, sinner die, Sinner die, with achin’ heart, Sinner die, sinner die, Sinner die with weary min’. Stump’ty up an’ stump’ty down, Time is comin’ when sinner mus’ die, Hurry home, hurry home; Time is a comin’ sinner mus’ die. Don’t you let that sinner change yo’ min’, Time is comin’ sinner mus’ die. Hurry home, hurry home; Time is comin’ sinner mus’ die. The plantation song of some years ago, sometimes called “O sinner, you better get ready”, had the same line refrain, “Time is a comin’ dat sinner mus’ die.” The repetition of “sinner die”, is a new addition. In the old song were lines similar to those quoted: O sinner man you better pray, For it look a like judgment every day. I heard a lumb’ring in de sky, Dat make a me tink my time was nigh. I heard of my Jesus a many one say, Could ’move poor sinner’s sins away. Yes, I’d rather pray myself away, Dan to lie in hell an’ burn a one day. I think I heard my mother say— ’Twas a pretty thing to serve the Lord. O when I git to heaven I’ll be able fer to tell, O how I shun dat dismal hell. In addition to the line-refrain which was sung after each line of the song, an additional chorus followed at intervals; this chorus had “ready my Lord” where the new one has a short line, “Hurry home”. Oh, sinner, you’d better get ready, ready my Lord, Oh, sinner, you’d better get ready. An interesting type of song is that in which an imaginary conversation is carried on between two parties. If the song is correctly[Pg 50] rendered the leader or one part of the chorus sing the first part or take the words of one of the speakers, while the other chorus take up the other speaker’s words. Both then join in the grand refrain, which in the following song is “Lord, I’m on my way”. Sinner, what you goin’ to do When de devil git you? What you goin’ do When de devil git you? What you goin’ do When de devil git you? Lord, I’m on my way. I’m goin’ run to the rocks. Well, they can’t hide you. Goin’ run to the rocks— They can’t hide you; Run to the rocks, Well, they can’t hide you, Lord, I’m on my way. I’m goin’ to run to the water; An’ water goin’ to cry “fire”, Goin’ to run to the water, An’ water cry “fire”, Run to the water, An’ water cry “fire”, Lord, I’m on my way. And so the sinner will then “run to the mountain,” and “De mountain fly open” or “De mountain cry mercy.” The sinner must needs be hopeless at his death and there is neither mercy nor pity for him. It is the idea of the negro that at the great day “we won’t be bothered with them any mo’”. A sad picture he makes of the poor, and forsaken man who dies “with achin’ heart”, with “weary min’”, and with his “head hung down”. Consequently it is not surprising to find appeals of all sorts made to the sinner man; now he is told of his doom, now of possible salvation, now of the joys of being saved, now of immediate satisfaction. Sung like the above song is “Come, sinner, come”. Won’t you come, won’t you come? Come, sinner, come; Great day of wrath is comin’, Come, sinner, come. Look over yonder what I see; Come, sinner, come; Two tall angels comin’ after me, Come, sinner, come. [Pg 51]In the same manner he sings, “Won’t you come an’ see yo’ Lord?” and “Ole Satan like a snake in de grass, Always in some sister’s path,” “Ole Satan weahs mighty loose ole shoe, Ef you don’t min’ gwine slip it on you”. “Up on hill side King Jesus spoke, Out of his mouth come fier an’ smoke”, “Down in de valley, down on my knees, Ask de Lord to save me if He please”, and others. The plantation song asked, O whar you runnin’, sinner? I do love de Lord; De Judgment day is comin’, I do love de Lord; You’ll see de worl’ on fire, I do love de Lord; You’ll see de element a meltin’, I do love de Lord. Besides these stanzas there were sung the various other warnings such as have been given in the idea of Judgment and Resurrection already noted. In the old slave song the sinner asks: My Lord, My Lord, what shall I do? An’ heaven bell ring an’ praise God. What shall I do for hiding place? I run to de sea but de sea run dry. I run to de gate but de gate shut fast. No hiding place for sinner dere. For I am gone an’ sent to hell. Instead of the regular refrain which is sung by the chorus of voices in response to a line by the leader, the negroes often respond with “um-m’” in a general mingling of chant, humming, and “amens”. For the most part they do this with closed lips; the volume is surprisingly strong, however, and makes a stirring effect. The meaning of the expression is something like “Yes?” or “Of course, we know it is true” or “Sure, you talkin’ brother”. The singer says: “I look for Jesus all my days”, and the chorus answers, “um-u’” and he then continues, An’ when I found him this is what he said, um-u’ Yo’ sin forgiven an’ you soul set free, um-u’ I pray all night, an’ I pray all day, um-u’ um-u’, Then my Lord taken my sins away, um-u’, um-u’. [Pg 52] Nex’ day, nex’ day while walkin’ along, um-u’, um-u’, I heard a voice an’ saw no one, um-u’, um-u’, It said, sinner man, you better come home, um-u’, um-u’. One day I was walkin’ long dat lonesome road, um-u’, um-u’, King Jesus spoke unto me an’ lifted off dat load, um-u’. Again, “Brother, you’d Better be a Prayin’”, while mostly repetition makes a long song when sung to its limit. “Sister”, “Sinner”, “Backslider”, “Mourner”, “Children”, each serves to make a complete stanza of eight lines: Brother you’d better be a prayin’, Brother, you’d better be a prayin’, My brother, you’d better be a prayin’, An’ I’ll be carried above, An’ I’ll be carried above, An’ I’ll be carried above, I’ll see king Jesus in his reign, An’ I’ll be carried above. The chorus song, “Wheel in middle of Wheel” is most likely a variation of the old song “Wheel in a wheel” which was “run by love, by faith,” and was sometimes conceived as a chariot wheel upon which “gwine take a ride, On de chariot wheel”, for “de chariot’s comin’, O my Lord”. Sometimes the wheel was conceived as being a “Little wheel a-turnin’ in my heart”, in which case it signified some sort of feeling. The phrase means nothing more than a chorus in the present-day song. O sinner man, how can it be? Wheel in de middle of wheel, If you don’t serve God, you can’t serve me, Wheel in de middle of wheel. In the wheel, in the wheel, Wheel in de middle of wheel, In the wheel, in the wheel, Wheel in the middle of wheel. Well don’t you know it’s prayin’ time? Wheel in middle of wheel; Lay down yo’ way an’ go to God, Wheel in middle of wheel. Well don’t you know it’s mournin’ time? Wheel in middle of wheel; He’ll hear yo’ prayers an’ sanctify, Wheel in middle of wheel. [Pg 53]Jesus and God are represented as “Listenin’ all the day long”, and the sinner is directed to pray. The plantation songs called to him: “Where you goin’ sinner? O come back, don’t go dat way.” And one of the singers affirmed that “about the break o’ day” his sins were forgiven and “his soul set free.” The song “Jesus is a listenin’” seems at some time to have been considerably corrupted. The negroes have sung it: “I’ve been a listenin’ all day long, and all night long, to hear some sinner pray.” However, the correct version now seems to be: Jesus is a listenin’ all the day long, He keep listenin’ all the day long, He keep listenin’ all the day long, For to hear some sinner pray. If I was a sinner I would please him, I would pray an’ pray a day, An’ when I got to heaven, So he could say he heard me pray. But in “Bear yo’ Burden, sinner”, another version is given of the same idea. This song is a popular one, while the figures used give a definite conviction. The Lord is a listenin’ all the day long, Bear yo’ burden sinner, If you will only pray, he will bear you on, Bear yo’ burden in the heat o’ the day. Bear yo’ burden, sinner, Bear yo’ burden, sinner, Bear yo’ burden in the heat o’ the day. I’m goin’ home fer to see my Lord, Bear yo’ burden, sinner, An’ don’t you wish you could go ’long, Bear yo’ burden, let in the heat. The way to bear yo’ burden is to get down on yo’ knees, Bear yo’ burden, sinner, let in the heat, Ask God to forgive you if you please, Bear yo’ burden in the heat of the day. This last stanza is an improvisation made by a young negro of some twenty-five years, although he claimed that it belonged to the song that was regularly sung, maintaining that they only forgot to sing it in the church on that special occasion. “True Religion” gives one view of the requisites of him who will be saved. The song[Pg 54] is based in form on a current secular song, and belongs to the class of colloquies. Well you must have that true religion, You must have true religion an’ yo’ soul converted, You must have that true religion. Or you can’t cross there. Where are you goin’, sinner, Where are you goin’, I say? I goin’ down to de river of Jorden, An’ you can’t cross dere. He continues, “Where are you goin’ gambler, backslider, drunkard, liar, hypocrite?” and answers each with, “An’ you can’t cross there,” while the entire chorus, “You must have that true religion,” is often repeated after each. The sinner is asked still other questions, one of which is given in the song “Waitin’”. Why does you tarry, sinner, Why does you wait so long? For my Lord is a waitin’, Why don’t you come to His call? He is waitin’, Lord, He is waitin’, Lord, He is a-waitin’ fer the good Lord, To come, My Lord. But when my Lord get here, You want have time to pray at all, For he is goin’ to judge you, An’ hell you be bound. The negro preacher often rebukes his flock for talking about each other in uncomplimentary terms. Sometimes the “sisters” who do not like the preacher retort variously, “I heard you talkin ’bout So and So, you know I did” or “We gwine talk ’bout you,” or “Yes, you knows it.” Slander and gossip are fast runners and the average negro assumes that somebody is talking about him or something which he has done. Out of this has grown the song “Talk about me” and others. Yes, I know you goin’ talk ’bout me, Yes, I know you goin’ talk ’bout me, For you talk ’bout my father when he’s on his knees a prayin’, An’ I know you goin’ talk ’bout me. So likewise he sings “I know you’re goin talk about me” because[Pg 55] “you talk about my mother when she’s on her bed a-dyin’”; he actually sings father, brother, mother, sister, mourner, preacher, to both “on his knees a prayin’”, and “on bed a dyin’.” A very popular stanza which is regularly sung in a number of songs goes: “You may talk about me just as you please, I’m goin’ to talk about you when I git on my knees.” The old slave and plantation song asked: “Who’ll jine de Union?” saying, “Say, ef you belong to de union ban’, den here’s my heart an’ here’s my hand.” There have been societies known as “The Union” or “Union Band” both in the church and outside. The name “Union” itself is a favorite one among the negro societies and organizations. It was thought in the old days that a union band would march to heaven and that these only would be enabled to reach the destination. It is almost certain that a number of references in their songs referred to the Union army in and after the war. However, the exact origin of the song as it is now sung has not been found, but appears to be a general corruption of several old songs. Get in the Union, Jesus is a listenin’, Get in the Union, Jesus die. Well, won’t you get in the Union? Jesus is a listenin’, Jesus die. Where was Ezekiel when the church fell down? Down in de valley wid his head hung down. Hypocrite, hypocrite, God do despise, Tongue so keen till he will tell lies. Upon the mountain Jehober spoke, Out of his mouth come fier an’ smoke. With this chorus are sung also as already given, “Satan, the snake in the grass”, “Ole satan weah mighty loose ole shoe”, etc. The “Hallelujah” so common among the old songs is less frequently heard now: it will be found to some degree in the shouting songs and songs of heaven. Not the least among the warnings to the sinner were to be reckoned the times when “Gable” should blow his horn. “Gable” has been proverbial among the negroes; Gabriel and the trumpet are, however, significant in the same way among the whites in vulgar reference. Many ideas of “Gable’s” trumpet have appeared in the negro songs. Sometimes it is “blow louder, Gable.” “How loud mus’ I blow?”[Pg 56] Reference has already been made to these lines. The song “Blow, Gable, blow” has changed considerably from the old plantation songs of the same name. Blow Gable, at the judgment, Blow Gable, at the judgment bar. For my God is a talkin’ at the judgment, For my God is a talkin’ at the judgment bar. Now won’t you blow Gable at the judgment? For my God is a preachin’ at the judgment bar. Now won’t you blow Gable at the judgment bar? Well, I’m goin’ to meet my preacher at the judgment bar. In the same manner, making a four-line stanza of each one, are sung, “Goin’ to meet brother, mother, sister, etc.”, and also “My God is a walkin’, tryin’, etc.,” at the judgment bar. So, too, it is “prayin’ time, mournin’ time, singin’ time, shoutin’ time, tryin’ time, etc., at the judgment bar.” This song may be given as the last one of the class peculiar to warnings and admonitions to sinners. It closes with still other verses that give vivid pictures of the judgment bar. Well, sinners, keep a prayin’ at the judgment bar. Well, it’s too late to pray at the judgment bar. Why didn’t you take heed at the judgment? Some come crippled at judgment. Oh, I look fer my mother, brother, sister, at de judgment. Both the sinner and the seeker has a “hard time” during some time in his experience. The duties of everyday life, too, often seem hard. Now on his knees, now shouting, now sorrowful and now glad, the negro comes from “hanging over hell” to die and “set by de Fadder’s side.” The average negro appears to pity himself, and his song intensifies the feeling. The songs that follow may be classed as those that give the state of uncertainty and doubt, together with pity mingled now and then with the note of triumph. In “Oh, what a hard time”, sisters, brothers, children, preachers, seekers—all have the same difficulties. Oh, what a hard time, Oh, what a hard time, Oh, what a hard time—All God’s children have a hard time. Oh, what a hard time, oh, what a hard time, Oh, what a hard time, my Lord had a hard time, too. So in another division will be given the song “My Trouble is Hard”,[Pg 57] the idea of which seems to be derived from the old plantation songs, though the new song is entirely different from the old ones. The plantation negroes used to sing “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen”, in which they were “sometimes up, sometimes down, sometimes almost to de groun’.” Others sung it “Nobody knows the trouble I see, or I’ve had”, and asked: “Brother, sister, preacher, will you pray for me?” In the same pathetic tone the “Sinner man” gives another phase of the feeling. My mother’ n yo’ mother both daid an’ gone, My mother’ n yo’ mother both daid an’ gone, My mother’ n yo’ mother both daid an’ gone, Po’ sinner man he so hard to believe. My folks an’ yo’ folks both daid an’ gone, Po’ sinner man he so hard to believe. My brother ’n yo’ brother both daid an’ gone, Po’ sinner man he so hard to believe. In the same way “my sister”, etc., completes the song, with favorite lines, “Down in de valley”, “Upon mountain Jehober spoke”, etc., being inserted as often as they desire. “Hanging over hell” gives more intensity to the feeling of the sinner. He says: When I wus hangin’ over hell, over hell, When I wus hangin’ over hell, over hell, Well, I had no one to pity poor me, poor me. Well, my mother sick an’ my father daid, father daid, Well, my mother sick an’ my father daid, father daid, Well, I ain’t got no one to pity poor me, poor me. Well, I ain’t got no one to pray for me, to pray for me. I ain’t got no one to feel for me, feel for me. Likewise he has no one to “cry” for him, to “mourn” or to “care” for him. It will be noticed that the negroes insert the word “well” frequently. There is no regularity or rule for its use; it apparently gives the song a more plastic turn and makes it seem more conversational. In some of their songs they insert in the same way, “says”, and “er”, “a”, “an”, at will. The struggle is well represented by the song “Keep inchin’ along”, which was also common in the old plantation melodies; the chorus is the same, while the words are entirely different from the older song. [Pg 58]Keep er-inchin’ erlong, keep er-inchin erlong, Jesus’ll come bye’m bye, Keep er-inchin’, keep er-inchin erlong, Jesus’ll come bye’m bye. De road is rocky here below, But Jesus’ll come bye’m bye, But Jesus leads me as I go, Jesus’ll come bye’m bye. Sometimes I hangs my head an’ cries, But Jesus’ll come bye’m bye. An’ He gwi’ wipe mer weepin’ eyes, But Jesus’ll come bye’m bye. Uh, run ’long mourner an’ git yo’ crown, By yo’ Father’s side set down. I’m glad that I’m bo’n ter die, Frum trouble here my soul gwi’ fly. In the same hopeful strain the negro sings “Boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat Mornin’,” which has a large number of stanzas, none of which have any similarity of meaning to the general theme. Yonder come er sister all dressed in black, She look lak er hipercrit jes’ got back, I’m boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat mornin’. Cross me over, Great Jehover, My Lord, I’m boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat mornin’. See dat Christian on his knees, He’s gwin’ ter cross dem jasper seas, I’m boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat mornin’. Swing low chariots in er line, Carry me ter glory in due time, I’m boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat mornin’. Ain’t but the one thing grieve my min’ Sister goin’ to heaven an’ leave me behin’, I’m boun’ ter cross Jord’n in dat mornin’. It is a favorite theme of the negroes to sing much of their “Lord” and “God”. Much has been noted of the names and attributes which Deity holds in the negro’s songs. As his friend the negro believes that God is always true; consequently he sings his loyalty to Him. The old plantation song “Tell Jesus” had as its chorus: “Tell Jesus done done all I can, Tell Jesus done done all I can, Tell Jesus done done all I can, I can’t do no more”. Very much like it is the song[Pg 59] “For my Lord” that is much in demand among the present-day negroes. I goin’ to do all I can fer my Lord, I goin’ to do all I can fer my Lord, I goin’ to do all I can fer my Lord, I goin’ to do all I can fer my Lord, I do all I can till I can’t do no more, I goin’ do all I can fer my Lord. In the same way he sings “I goin’ weep all I can till I can’t weep no more”, “I goin’ pray all I can till I can’t pray no more”, and “sing” and “mourn” and “work” for his Lord. The phrases “till I can’t do no mo’”, and the others are characteristic of the negro’s prayers. He usually closes his church prayers, “Now Lord, when we’s done prayin’ an’ can’t pray no mo’; when we’s done meetin’ an’ can’t meet no mo’”, etc. The closing scene, the final act of life, seems to appeal to the negro with wonderful dramatic power. It is in the end that he himself will be great; it is then that God and Jesus and the angels will be made manifest, and it is there in the new home that his condition will be one of ease and rest, at the same time that it is one of prominence. He sings “Gwi’ lay down my life fer my Lord”. De Lord giv’ me mer trumpet an’ tole me ter blow, He giv’ me mer cummission an’ tole me ter go. Fer my Lord, fer my Lord, Fer my Lord, gwi’ lay down my life fer my Lord. You can hinder me here but you can’t hinder me dere, For de Lord in Heaven gwi’ hear my prayer. De enemy’s great but my Cap’n is strong, U’m fightin’ fer de city an’ de time ain’t long. When I git dar I’ll be able fer to tell, How I whipped ole Satan at de door ob hell. Mer head got wet wid de midnight dew, Dat mornin’ star was shinin’ too. So again the negro magnifies his Lord in “a weary Lan’” and makes both a striking picture and a pleasing song. His Lord is not only “a walkin’ in a weary lan’”, but he is also a “doctor”, a “preacher” and a “shelter”. Thus he pictures him “walkin’” “talkin’” “preachin’”, and “healin’” in the weary land. My Lord’s a walkin’ in the weary lan’, [Pg 60]In a weary lan’, in a weary lan’, Yes, my Lord walkin’ in weary lan’, He’s a shelter in a mighty storm. Likewise he is a healer in a mighty storm or in the time of storm. It is but natural that the negro should call upon the Lord to remember him. The old plantation song “Do Lord remember me” was apparently based upon the idea of being remembered at Christmas times; indeed the negroes always ask to be remembered at such a time by the “whitefolks”. They were always remembered and often their homes were made happy. The song asked: “O do Lord remember me, O do Lord remember me, O do remember me until de year roll round, Do Lord remember me.” The song now current is most likely not the same song but an entirely different one. Do my Lord remember me, Do my Lord remember me, Do my Lord remember me, Do Lord remember me. Upon de housetop an’ can’t come down, Do Lord remember me. Upon de house an’ can’t come down. Do Lord remember me. When I am hungry do feed me Lord, Do Lord remember me. When I am thirsty do give me drink, Do Lord remember me. The negroes sometimes call the following song the “riddle song”, asking “who is the Rock”, while the answer comes back, like the Psalmist, “King Jesus is the Rock”. Lead me to the Rock, lead me to the Rock, Lead me to the Rock that is higher an’ higher. O, Lead me to the Rock, Yes, lead me to the Rock that is higher an’ higher. King Jesus is the Rock, yes, King Jesus is the Rock, King Jesus is the Rock that is higher an’ higher, O King Jesus is the Rock, Yes, King Jesus is the Rock that is higher an’ higher. Standing on the Rock, yes standing on the Rock, Standing on the Rock that is higher an’ higher. O, standing on the Rock, Yes, standing on the Rock that is higher an’ higher. As Jesus is the Rock so the negroes have sung “Dere’s no one[Pg 61] lak’ Jesus”. The chorus-line was common in the old songs; the verses of the song of to-day are different. I think I heard a rumblin’ in de sky, Dar’s no one lac Jesus. It mus’ be mer Lord passin’ by, Dar’s no one lac Jesus. Stan’ still, walk study, keep de faith, Dar’s no one lak’ Jesus. Sister Mary went up on de mount’n top, Dar’s no one lak’ Jesus. She sung a li’l song an’ she never did stop, Dar’s no one lak’ Jesus. She argued wid de Fadder an’ chatter’d wid de Son, Dar’s no one lak’ Jesus. She talk’d erbout the ole worl’ she cum frum, Dar’s no one lak’ Jesus. The song “Gi’ me Jesus” was said to have been the product of “over-free spirit and super-religiousness” just after the war. The negro claims that the white man took him at his word when he sang, “Gi’ me Jesus, You may have all this worl”, and has left him nothing in this world but Jesus. At least this is one view of the song, which is represented as a bargain which the white man wants the negro to keep. The song is a typical and well known one, said to have been first sung by a blind negro preacher. In de mornin’ when I rise, In de mornin’ when I rise, In de mornin’ when I rise, Giv’ me Jesus. Giv’ me Jesus, Giv’ me Jesus, You may hab’ all dis worl’, Giv’ me Jesus. Ef it’s midnight when I rise, Ef it’s midnight when I rise, Ef it’s midnight when I rise, Giv’ me Jesus. Jes’ fore day when I cried, Giv’ me Jesus. When I wade death’s cold stream, Giv’ me Jesus. The negro says that if you love Jesus, it seems to him that you[Pg 62] “can’t keep it”, and that you are duty bound to let the world know it. The custom is a common one of asking “members” at the class meeting and revival services whether or not they “love the Lord”. It is the duty of the class leader to see to the religious welfare of the members. The song “Love the Lord” represents this phase of worship. Well, did you say that you love Jesus? Did you say that you love the Lord? Yes, I say that I love Jesus. Yes, I say I love the Lord. All I wants to know is, “Does you love Jesus?” All I wants to know is, “Does you love the Lord?” Yes, I say that I love Jesus, Yes, I say I love the Lord. If you love Jesus, you can’t keep it, All I want to know is, “Does you love the Lord?” Yes, my mother, I love Jesus, Yes, my mother, I love the Lord. The chorus then varies from “Yes, I say” to “Yes, my mother”, “Yes, my sister”, “Yes, my brother”. In striking contrast to his earthly life, the negro sings of his heavenly home. It will be seen in the study of his social songs that home plays a small part in their subject matter. It is true that the negro has little love of home or devotion to loved ones. Perhaps for this very reason he expects to have a better home in the beyond. He wants that which is ideal and impractical; he wants that which will come without effort. If in slavery days he had no home, it was natural that he should look to Heaven for his home. This conception, intensified by the negro’s emotional nature and self-pity, is still prominent. Not only is his home to be a happy one, but it is to be exclusive; only the fortunate, of whom he is the chiefest, may go there. This class of songs—of Heaven and home—is perhaps as large as any. The negro sings: I got a home where liars can’t go, Don’t you see? Jus’ between the heaven an’ earth, Where my Saviour bled an’ died, I got a home where liars can’t go, Don’t you see? [Pg 63] I got a home where sinners can’t go, Don’t you see? Jus’ between the earth an’ sky, Where my Saviour bleed an’ die, Don’t you see? When the earth begin to shake, Don’t you see? You better get a ticket or you’ll be late, Don’t you see? In the same way the singers repeat, using the words “drunkards,” “hypocrits”, and other sinners. Sometimes instead of saying “I got a home where the drunkards can’t come”, the sinner will say “where the drunkards can’t find me”. Another version of the same song is found in different localities: I got a home in the Rock, Don’t you see? Just between the heaven an’ earth, Well, yes, I got a home in the Rock, Don’t you see? Judas was a deceitful man, Don’t you see? Well he betrayed the innercent Lam’, Well he lost a home in the Rock, Don’t you see? Well the sun refuse to shine, Don’t you see? The sun refuse to shine, An’ the sun refuse to shine, Don’t you see? God don’t talk like a natural man, Don’t you see? God don’t talk like a natural man, He talk so sinners can understan’, Don’t you see? Well I don’t want to stumble, Don’t you see? Well I don’t want to fall, I read that writin’ on de wall, Don’t you see? The “Home in the Rock” and the “Rock of ages” mean little to the negroes; they are suitable terms and appeal to their sense of sound. Like other peoples, the negroes have inserted them into their religion as forceful symbols. Interesting comparisons may be made[Pg 64] in a later chapter. The chorus of “Heaven” hummed in a monotone, with lips sometimes closed, makes a beautiful song, and one that appeals much to both old and young negroes. You got a robe, I got a robe, All God’s children got a robe, Goin’ try on my robe an’ if it fits me, Goin’ to wear it all round God’s heaven. Heaben—heaben, ev’ybody goin’ to heaben An’ I’m goin’ dere, too. Gamblers dere an’ gamblers here, I’m so glad dat God declare, Dere ain’t no gamblers in heaven. This version and wording is rather that of the children, who are very fond of singing it. They continue “Heaven so high you can’t go over it”, “Heaven so low you can’t go under it”, “Heaven so deep you can’t go through it”, and “Heaven so wide you can’t go round it”. The most common form of the song is a variation of the above. Sinners, gamblers, dancers, liars, drunkards are everywhere, but not in Heaven. Well there are sinners here and sinners there, An’ there are sinners everywhere, But I thank God that God declare, That there ain’t no sinners in heaven. Heaven, Heaven, Everybody talkin’ ’bout heaven an’ goin’ there, Heaven, Heaven, Goin’ to shine all ’round God’s heaven. Well there are drunkards here an’ drunkards there, An’ there are drunkards everywhere, But I’m so glad that God declare, There ain’t no drunkards in heaven. Heaven, Heaven, Preachers all preachin’ ’bout heaven an’ goin’ there, Heaven, Heaven, Goin’ to shine all ’round God’s heaven. As has been indicated, many of the negro songs consist of single lines repeated in couplets or by fours in order to give length to the singing. The most simple sentences that could be devised may serve as a good song. The negro happens to think of an ordinary truth; he then sings it to his tune and chorus. [Pg 65]I’m goin’ to be a Christian if I keep a prayin’ on, I goin’ to be a Christian if I keep a prayin’ on, I goin’ to be a Christian, I’m goin’ to be a Christian, I goin’ to be a Christian if I keep a prayin’ on. An’ when I git religion, I goin’ to keep a prayin’ on. I goin’ to see my Jesus if I keep a prayin’ on. I goin’ to see my mother if I keep a prayin’ on. In the same way he is “going to see” his father, brother, master, preacher, singing each line four times, altering them as he desires and putting in any chorus that appeals to his fancy. The next song shows a typical variation of a line, and the negro sometimes sings the second version with more determination than the first. Lord, I want to go to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, Lord, I want to go to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, Yes, I want to go to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, Great Judgment day. Well, I’m goin’ to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, An’ I’m goin’ to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, Yes, I’m goin’ to heaven fer to stan’ my trials, Great Judgment day. The darkeys used to sing, “Hail, hail, hail, I’m gwine jine saints above, I’m on my journey home”. So, too, in many of their songs the “promise Lan’” was held out as the goal of future happiness. So it is to-day. “On my journey home” and “Goin’ to Heaven” represent the common conception. Sister when you pray you mus’ pray to de Lord, For I hab some hopes ob glory, I feel like, I feel like I’m on my journey home, I feel like, I feel like, I’m on my journey home. I’ll away, I’ll away to de promise lan’, My Father calls me, I mus’ go, To meet Him in de promise lan’. I have a father in the promise lan’, Go meet him in de promise lan’, I feel like, I feel like I’m on my journey home, I feel like, I feel like I’m on my journey home. So, too, the singer has a mother, a sister, an auntie and others in the “promise lan’”. Likewise he says instead of “sister when you pray,” etc., brother, member, mourner, sinner, preacher, and the others.[Pg 66] As a rule morning signified to the negroes the time for going to heaven and for the resurrection. The morning star shining as a witness to his conversion, and the midnight dew typified the early morning time of his religion. “In the morning” is sung as of old. I have been tempted, O yes, An’ I have been tried, O yes, I have been to the river an’ been baptize, An’ I want to go to heaven in the morning. Won’t you ride on Jesus? Ride on Jesus, ride on crowning King, For I want to go to heaven in the morning. If you see my mother, O yes, Please tell her for me, O yes, That the angels in heaven done change my name, An’ I want to go to heaven in the morning. So if you see “brother John, sister Nancy,” and others makes the song complete. The song once so popular, “Yes, I’ll be dere, When gen’ral roll call” is still heard occasionally. Many of these songs have been corrupted and changed, consolidated and revised into new songs. Such a song is “Study war no mo’”, which combines the old camp meeting, “down by the river side”, and a new element of peace, the origin of which is not known. Well there’s goin’ to be a big camp meetin’, Well there’s goin’ to be a big camp meetin’, Well there’s goin’ to be a big camp meetin’, Down by the river side. Well, I ain’t goin’ to study war no mo’, Well, I ain’t goin’ to study war no mo’, Well, I ain’t goin’ to study war no mo’. Well such a shoutin’ an’ prayin’ Down by the riverside. Well I goin’ to meet my sister, Down by the riverside. Well the brothers got to shoutin’, Down by the riverside. Said the old singers: “Some o’ dese mornin’s, hope I’ll see my mother, hope I’ll jine de ban’, hope I’ll walk bout Zion, Talk wid de angels, Talk my trouble over” while they looked “away to hebben”. Now the negro sings: [Pg 67]Gwine to weep, gwine to mourn, Gwine to git up early in de morn, Fo’ my soul’s goin’ to heaven jes’ sho’s you born, Brother Gabriel goin’ to blow his horn. Goin’ to sing, goin’ to pray, Goin’ to pack all my things away, Fo’ my soul’s goin’ to heaven jes’ sho’s you born, Brother Gabriel gwine ter blow his horn. “Pray come an’ go wid me” sings the Christian, for “I’m on my journey home to the New Jerusalem”. If refused he says, “Now don’t let me beg you to follow me, for I’m on my journey home”, and finally he sings, “Well, brother come an’ go wid me.” If the sinner needs other exhortation he may listen to the mixed song “Dry bones goin’ to rise ergain”, in which there is first warning, then hope of glory. Some go ter meetin’ to sing an’ shout, Dry bones goin’ ter rise again; Fore six month deys all turned out, Dry bones goin’ ter rise again. O little chillun, O little childun, O lit’le childun, dry bones goin’ rise ergin. Talk erbout me but taint my fault, Dry bones goin ter rise ergin; But me an’ Godermighty goin’ walk an’ talk, Dry bones goin’ ter rise ergin. Ef you want ter go to heaven when you die, Dry bones goin’ rise ergin; Jes’ stop yo’ tongue from tellin’ lies, Dry bones goin’ ter rise ergin. In the old plantation song Ezekiel was represented down in a valley “full of bones as dry as dust” and He gib de bone a mighty shake, Fin’ de ole sinners too dry to quake, Death for the Christian is shouting: death for the sinner is doom. “When I git to heaven, goin’ shout on my knees” gives an accurate picture of what the negro conceives to be happiness. But he not only expects to shout while on earth and when he gets home, but even when he dies. For says he, My mother dies a shoutin’, an’ I goin’ die shoutin’, too, Yes, my mother died a shoutin’ an’ I goin’ die shoutin’, too. [Pg 68] My mother died a shoutin’, my mother died a shoutin’, Yes, my mother died a shoutin’ an’ I goin’ die shoutin’, too. Still his mother is not the only one who has died shouting; he sings in the same way of father, preacher, brother, sister and others; the slave song included “Missus” and “Marster” or “Massa”. But shouting must not be all. The negro and his brothers, sisters, mother are all to die “mournin’”, and “prayin’”. In “Join de Heaven wid de Angels” the rich voice of one or two leaders and the swelling chorus produce an effect scarcely surpassed. O join on, join my Lord, Join de heaven wid de angels; O join on, join my Lord, Join de heaven wid de angels. What kin’ er shoes is dem you wear? Join de heaven wid de angels; Dat you kin’ walk upon de air, Join de heaven wid de angels. Oh, God don’t talk like a nat’al man, Join de heaven wid de angels; He talk to de sinner, he understan’, Join de heaven wid de angels. I’m Baptis’ bred an’ I’m Baptis’ bo’n, Join de heaven wid de angels; An’ when I die dey’s a Baptis’ gone, Join de heaven wid de angels. Jes’ so de tree fall jes’ so it lie, Join de heaven wid de angels; Jes so de sinner lib’ jes’ so he die, Join de heaven wid de angels. The song has been found in several forms among which one has it that John is to be in de heavens with the angels. In fact the probable origin of “join on” seems to have been “John saw de heaven wid de angels”. In one of the old songs the singer answers, Dem shoes I wears is gospel shoes, View de lan’, view de lan’; An’ you can wear dem if you choose, View de lan’, view de lan’. There are other references, too, besides the above, to the denominations of the negro churchmen. It has already been seen that the negro likes “bes’” the “shoutin’ Mefodes’”. So he says “There’s fire in de[Pg 69] eas’ an’ fire in de wes; An’ fire among de Methodes’”. He is loyal and proclaims: “Methodist, Methodist is my name, Methodist till I die, I’ll be baptize in the Methodist name, An’ I’ll lib’ on the Methodist side”. In the same way he is Baptist and Presbyterian; the Baptist is the favorite church of the negro, however, and there are more Baptists than all other denominations combined. The “Angel Band”, while a very simple song in which the chorus constitutes the greater part, is one of the most beautiful that the negroes sing. The tune is a variation of a well-known hymn used by the whites. The power of the song seems to lie in the tender interest which centres about the vivid portrayal of the little angels in the heavenly band. The chorus is repeated after each stanza, while each stanza itself is the repetition of a single line. From one to ten; from ten to twenty and so on to one hundred is ordinarily sung, thus making a lengthy song. The children love to sing the chorus; two forms are ordinarily found, varying the monotony enough to please the negro. Dere’s one little, two little, three little angels, Dere’s four little, five little, six little angels. Dere’s seven little, eight little, nine little angels, Dere’s ten little angels in de band. Dere’s leben, dere’s twelve, dere’s thir’een little angels, Dere’s fourteen, dere’s fifteen, dere’s sixteen little angels. Dere’s seventeen, dere’s eighteen, dere’s nineteen little angels, Dere’s twenty little angels in de band. The “little” in the chorus is preferred to the “dere’s” as a rule, apparently serving to describe the angels. The stanzas of the song are equally as unlimited and as simple as the chorus. “Sunday morning” is the common factor to all of the verses; sometimes it is omitted. Jesus rose on Sunday mornin’, Jesus rose on Sunday mornin’, Jesus rose on Sunday mornin’, On Sunday mornin’ so soon. He rose an’ flew away on Sunday mornin’. My mother died on Sunday mornin’. Oh wasn’t that sad on Sunday mornin’? Dere’s goin’ to be a big camp meetin’ on Sunday mornin’. Dere’s goin’ to be a mournin’ on Sunday mornin’. [Pg 70] Mourners got to shoutin’ on Sunday mornin’. I’m goin’ away to leave you on Sunday mornin’. Well, my sister’s goin’ to heaven on Sunday mornin’. While this form of the song may be continued indefinitely, other verses may also be inserted. Instead of the “On Sunday mornin’” is often substituted “Fer to see my Lord”. Well, my sister’s goin’ to heaven fer to see my Lord, To see my Lord, to see my Lord; Well, my sister’s goin’ to heaven fer to see my Lord, What’s de onbelievin’ soul? And so he continues with preacher, brother, mother, auntie and any others that he wishes to enumerate. As a shouting song or as a “collection” song, it is not surpassed. The negro’s fancies of the “Heaven’s bright home” are not exceeded by the world’s fairy tales. There are silver and golden slippers; there are crowns of stars and jewels and belts of gold. There are robes of spotless white and wings all bejewelled with heavenly gems. Beyond the jasper seas he will outshine the sun; the golden streets and the fruit of the tree of life are far superior to any golden apples or silver pears of a Mother Goose. In fact the negro’s fairy stories centre on heaven; the children’s definitions of heaven consisted entirely of pictures of splendor and glory. To this place the negro imagines he will go and who knows but that he may fly there? Some o’ dese mornin’s bright an’ fair, Way in de middle of de air; Gwi’ hitch on my wings an’ try de air, Way in de middle of de air. Come over, den, John saw de holy number, Way in de middle of de air; John saw de holy number, Way in de middle of de air; If yer wanter dream dem heavenly dreams, Way in de middle of de air; Lay yo’ head on Jord’n’s stream, Way in de middle of de air. I got a book goin’ read it thru’, Way in de middle of de air, I got my Jesus well as you, Way in de middle of de air. [Pg 71]With a golden “band all round his waist, An’ de palms ob victory in a-his hands”, the negro sings in reality: “Pray come an’ go wid me”, for so vivid is his picture that he has been known to start up a post or pillar in the church, saying, “Good bye brothers, I’m gone”. His songs make much of flying; different from that just quoted he repeats: One mornin’ soon, One mornin’ soon, my Lord, One mornin’ soon, I goin’ try the air, I goin’ try the air, Pray come an’ go wid me. Well I got on my travellin’ shoes, Well I got on my travellin’ shoes, Well I got on my travellin’ shoes, Pray come an’ go wid me. He sings, too, “I goin’ to put on my long white robe”, “We’ll try on de slippah shoe an’ wear de golden belt”. Again he sings of his doings in the morning, noontime, and midnight. In the morning—um-u’, In the morning—um-u’, In the morning—um-u’, I goin’ put on my golden shoes. In the midnight—um-u’, In the midnight—um-u’, In the midnight—um-u’, I goin’ put on my long white robe. Talk about it—um-u’, Talk about it—um-u’, Talk about it—um-u’, I goin’ wear that starry crown. The angels and Jesus wear the starry crown and long white robes; there will be no separating line between us and God in the new world. “Oh how I long to go dere, too”, sang the old negroes. Now he pictures again the appearance of Jesus. Jesus, he wore the starry crown, Jesus he wore the starry crown, Jesus he wore the starry crown, starry crown. How does you know he wore the crown? How does you know he wore the crown? How does you know he wore the crown? wore the crown? [Pg 72] For the Bible it tell me so, For the Bible it tell me so, For the Bible it tell me so, tell me so. Then, too, Jesus “he wore the long white robe, for the Bible it tell me so.” More than the world or riches or dress the singer claims he values the treasures of heaven. In this assertion he is doubtless sincere, both because he is thinking only of his religious state while he sings, and because he has little opportunity for obtaining these earthly riches. Says he: I don’t care fur riches, Neither dress so fine, Jes’ giv’ me my long white robe, An’ I want my starry crown. For my Lord done bin here, Done bless my soul an’ gone away. Po’ man goin’ to heaven, Rich man goin’ to hell, For po’ man got his starry crown, Rich man got his wealth. This “ole worl’ bin a hell to me” indicates the contrast between the everyday life of the world and that which the negro will enjoy after death. In his eagerness and impatience to rest in the “promise lan’,” the negro does not always think kindly of the world and he does not care even though “Death is in dis lan’.” Ever since my Lord has set me free, Death is in dis lan’, This ole worl’ bin a hell to me, Death is in dis lan’. I’m so glad death is in dis lan’, I’m so glad death is in dis lan’. O run ’long mourner ’n git yo’ crown, Death is in dis lan’, By yo’ father’s side set down, Death is in dis lan’. Some er dese mornin’s bright and fair, Death is in dis lan’, Gwin’r hitch on my wings an’ try de air, Death is in dis lan’. If the negro expects to go to heaven and there mingle with God, the angels and his loved ones, he also expects to sing in all the glory[Pg 73] and splendor imaginable. The negroes used to sing of “jinin’ de association, climbin’ Jacob’s ladder, climbin’ higher an’ higher, sittin’ down at de welcome table, feastin’ off’n milk an’ honey, tell God how you served me, jine de big baptizin”, after which “den my little soul gwine shine.” So they sang of a mother, father, brother in heaven who “outshines de sun”, and ended by declaring that when they got to heaven “we will outshine de sun.” In very much the same way the negroes sing to-day in one of their favorites, “Goin’ to Outshine de Sun.” Well, my mother’s goin’ to heaven, She’s goin’ to outshine the sun, O Lord, Well, my mother’s goin’ to heaven, She’s goin’ to outshine the sun, Yes, my mother’s goin’ to heaven to outshine the sun, An’ it’s way beyon’ the moon. You got a home in the promise lan’, Goin’ to outshine the sun, O Lord, An’ it’s way beyon’ the moon. The crown that my Jesus give me, Goin’ to outshine the sun, my Lord, An’ it’s way beyond the moon. Goin’ to put on my crown in glory, An’ outshine the sun, O Lord. ’Way beyon’ de moon. Other verses sing of putting on slippers, long white robe, in each case the singer is to “outshine the sun.” The dazzling splendor of it all makes anticipation full of staying qualities; it makes the picture one of reality because of the vigor of an imaginative power. Who knows if the negroes often dream of the grandeurs of the sky? The negro uses many figures and symbols in his religion. He can see the chariot wheel and the chariot of fire taking him to heaven as easily as Elijah. He can imagine that he, too, can ascend even as Christ and the angels. Besides these methods he has the Gospel Train and the Ship of Zion. The train has much fascination for the negro: much will be seen of this in his social songs. It is but natural that he should bring it into his religious songs. The negro often goes to meet the train at the station, even when sick. It is a great social event of a Sunday. So again, he wishes to go on an excursion; few things can hinder him. Very much in the same strain is the religious song, “When the train come along.” [Pg 74]Well, I may be sick an’ cannot rise, But I meet you at de station when de train come along. When de train come along, When de train come along, I’ll meet you at de station when de train come along. Well, I may be blind an’ cannot see, But I’ll meet you at de station when de train come along. Well, I may be lame and cannot walk, But I’ll meet you at de station when de train come along. While no mention is made of the exact kind of train, it is generally understood to mean the Gospel train. This song also has a popular variant which is used in a secular way. In either case it expresses in a very forceful way the importance of meeting the train. In proportion as a picture resembles real life or magnifies that which has been imaged, to that degree does it bring home its truth to the negro’s mind. The negro continues to sing of the train on which he is to ride into the Kingdom. Says he: I am talkin’ ’bout the same train, Same train that carried my father, Same train. Same train that carried my mother, Same train, Same train will be back to-morrow, Same train. Same train will be here to-morrow, Same train, Well you better be ready, It’s the same train. The “same train” also carried his brother, sister, preacher and others. But the train which will come back to-morrow will not wait always. One must not only be at the station but must also have a ticket. There is plenty of room, according to the negro’s conception, but there is not plenty of time. It would be a wistful negro that looked upon the train pulling out for heaven and he all alone is left behind. He sings, Well you better git yo’ ticket, Well you better git yo’ ticket, Well you better git yo’ ticket, Bye and bye. [Pg 75] There’s a great day er comin’, There’s a great day er comin’, There’s a great day er comin’, Bye and bye. For the train it’s er comin’, For the train it’s er comin’, For the train it’s er comin’, Bye and bye. I am sure God is ready, I am sure God is ready, I am sure God is ready, Bye and bye. Instead of the chorus just given he often sings: “I sure God am ready,” and “I sho’ God is ready.” With this in view he is willing and glad for the train to come along. If he is ready, all the better for him to be on his journey. So he continues in another song and at another time: If God was to call me I would not care—um-u’, For he done move away my fears—um-u’. I’m goin’ to heaven, an’ I’m goin’ fo’ long—um-u’, All don’t see me will hear my song—um-u’. When de gospel train come ’long—um-u’, That’s the train carry me home—um-u’. Wake up, sinner, you will be too late—um-u’, Gospel train done pass yo’ gate—um-u’. In the old plantation songs the exhortation was given to “Git on board little children, dere’s room for many a mo’.” So also they sang: De gospel train’s a comin’, I hear it jus’ at hand, I hear de car wheels rumblin’, An’ rollin’ thru de land. I hear de train a comin’, She’s comin’ round de curve, She’s loosened all her steam an’ brakes, An’ strainin’ eb’ry nerve. De fare is cheap an’ all can go, De rich an’ pore are dere, No second class abord dis train, No difference in de fare. In addition to the above stanzas the Jubilee singers added others. They heard the bell and whistle and “she’s playin’ all her steam an’[Pg 76] power.” The rhyme and imagery of the old song struck a more responsive chord than the present song; this is due to the fact that the negro of to-day sings his railroad songs and enjoys them in his secular music. There he pictures the train with such vividness that the train may be easily heard and seen in his imagination. Other verses of the Gospel Train as it was sung by the Jubilee singers are: There’s Moses and Noah and Abraham, And all the prophets, too, Our friends in Christ are all on board, O what a heavenly crew. We soon shall reach the station, O how we then shall sing, With all the heavenly army, We’ll make the welkin ring. She’s nearing now the station, O sinner, don’t be vain, But come an’ get your ticket, And be ready for the train. No signal for the other train, To follow on the line, O sinner, you’re forever lost, If once you’re left behind. While the song as reported by the Jubilee singers does not possess the mere characteristics of form and dialect, it nevertheless appeals to the negroes and it is sometimes sung. One of the fears of the negro is that others may go to heaven and he be left behind. This, as has been indicated, constitutes the sum total of misery. So he has a number of songs in which he expresses this feeling and prays that he may not be left behind in the race of life for the eternal goal. One of the most touching of these songs represents the negro as an orphan who is unwilling to stay alone in the world: My muther an’ my father both are daid, both are daid, My muther an’ my father both are dead, My mother an’ my father both are dead, Good Lord, I cannot stay here by merself. I’m er pore little orphan chile in de worl’, chile in de worl’, I’m er pore little orphan chile in the worl’, I’m a pore little orphan chile in de worl’, Good Lord, I cannot stay here by merself. [Pg 77] De train done whistled an’ de cars done gone, cars done gone, De train done whistled an’ de cars ere gone, De train done whistled an’ de cars ere gone, Ezekiel, I cannot stay here by merself. My brothers an’ my sisters are all gone, all gone, My brothers an’ my sister’re all gone, all gone, My brothers an’ sisters all are gone, Mer Jesus, I cannot stay here by merself. Git me ticket fer de train, fer de train, Git me ticket fer de train, I got mer ticket fer de train, Thank God, I ain’t gwine stay here by merself. Very much like the song just given the negroes used to sing: “Dar’s room in dar, room in dar, room in de heaven, Lord, I can’t stay behin’”. So, too, “I can’t or don’t want to stay here no longer” are common and classic verses of negro song. Again they sang the “good news” because “De chariot’s comin’, I doan want her to leave a-me behind, Gwine get upon dat chariot, Carry me home”. In a prayer the negro sang: “Jesus, don’t leave me behind”. In his songs to-day the negro says: Dear brother, don’t you leave, Dear brother, don’t you leave, This ole world’s a hell to me. This ole world’s a hell to me, This ole world’s a hell to me. Yes, I bleedzed to leave this world, Yes, I bleedzed to leave this world, Sister, I’s bleedzed to leave this world, For it’s a hell to me. While the old negroes used to sing “Oh brother, sisters, mourners, don’t stay away, For my Lord says there’s room enough”, the modern negro sings “You can’t stay away”. Sister, you can’t stay away, Sister, you can’t stay away, Sister, you can’t stay away, stay away. My Lord is a callin’ an’ you can’t stay away, My Lord is a callin’ an’ you can’t stay away, Yes, my Lord is a callin’ an’ you can’t stay away, An’ you can’t stay away. King Jesus is a ridin’ an’ you can’t stay away, O preacher, you can’t stay away. [Pg 78]There have been a great many versions of the song “Ole Ship of Zion”, none of which differ materially. The four or five versions most common in the slave and plantation song represented the Ship of Zion somewhat as follows: “She has landed many a thousand, She can land as many more, Do you think she will be able, For to take us all home? You can tell ’em I’m comin’ home”, “Dis de good ole ship of Zion, An’ she’s maken’ fer de promise lan’. She hab angels fer de sailors. An’ how you know dey’s angels? Dat ship is out a sailin’ she’s a sailin’ mighty steady. She’ll neither reel nor totter, She’s a sailin’ ’way cold Jordan. King Jesus is de captain, captain”. “De gospel ship is sailin’, O Jesus is de captain, De angels are de sailors, O is yo’ bundle ready? O have you got yo’ ticket!” Another version has “her loaded down with angels”; Another “wid a-bright angels”. Another asks what ship is that “you’re enlisted upon”? and answers that it is the “Good ship of Zion”, which “sails like she’s heavy loaded”, and “has King Jesus for the captain”, and “the Holy Ghost is de pilot” The coast negroes had many songs that originated in ideas suggested by the boats. To-day the river negroes have songs of their own, but they do not go into the church songs. The Old Ship of Zion, however, is sung, but only as a remnant of the former song, less elaborate. This ole ship is a reelin’ an’ a rockin’, This ole ship is a reelin’ an’ a rockin’ rockin’ rockin’ Makin’ fer de promise lan’. While the negro sings, he sees the ship reelin’ an’ rockin’, and repeats these phrases enough and in a rhythmic manner, so that he imitates the imagined motion of the ship. The other stanzas of the song are practically the same as those of the earlier days. O my Lord, shall I be the one? O my Lord, shall I be the one? O my Lord, shall I be the one? Makin’ for the promise lan’? Yes, ’tis that good ole ship of Zion, of Zion, Yes, ’tis that good ole ship of Zion, of Zion, Yes, ’tis that good ole ship of Zion, Makin’ for the promise lan’. O the ship is heavy loaded, loaded, loaded, Makin’ for the promise lan’. It’s loaded with many er thousand, thousand, thousand, Makin’ fer the promise lan’. [Pg 79]“This ole worl’s a rollin’” is most likely a figure of the ship and modelled on the same song. However, it conveys a different idea, one of judgment and the end of the world. The negro sings: Well the ole worl’ is a rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, Yes, the ole worl’ is rollin’, rollin’ away. Well ain’t you goin’ to get ready? Yes, ain’t you goin’ to get ready? for it’s rollin’ away. Well get on board little children, children, children, Well get on board, for this ole worl’s rollin’ away. He sings for the sinner, mourner, and all his friends and relatives to get on board the world as she rolls away. It reminds one somewhat of the song once current among the negroes: “O de ole ferry boat stan’ a-waitin’ at de landin’, Chilluns we’se all gwine home”. The same feeling of motion and the end of the world as is indicated in the moving of the train, ship, and the world itself is also reflected in the opening of the graveyards and the rolling of the hearse wheel. The same rhythmic effect of motion and words give a strikingly appropriate attitude to the singer. O the lightening flashin’ an’ the thunder rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, O the lightening flashin’ an’ thunder rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, O the light’ning flashin’ an’ thunder rollin’, Lawd, I know my time ain’t long; Lawd, I know my time ain’t long. The hearse wheel rollin’ an’ graveyard openin’, openin’, openin’, The hearse wheel rollin’ an’ graveyard openin’, openin’, openin’, The hearse wheel rollin’ an’ the graveyard openin’, Lawd, I know my time ain’t long, my time ain’t long. And very much like the above song is “Every Day”. However, it is so similar to other songs that one concludes that it is only a putting together of what the singer already knew. The Bahama negroes have a song, “If hev’ry day was judgment day”, that is almost exactly the same in meaning as this one. The song, however, is a powerful one and seems to be gaining in popularity. Well the hearse wheel rollin’, Every day, every day, Carryin’ yo’ brother to the graveyard, Every day, every day—move, Zion, move. Well ain’t it a pity, pity? [Pg 80]Every day, every day, Well ain’t it a pity, ain’t it a pity? Every day, every day, move, Zion, move. Well they’re carryin’ a sinner, sinner, Every day, every day, Yes, they’re carryin’ a sinner, Every day, every day, move, Zion, move. Move, Zion, move, for you got to go to judgment, Every day, every day, Move, Zion, move, for you got to go to judgment, Every day, every day, move, Zion, move. The getting of mail, and especially of letters, usually means much to the negroes; perhaps simply because they receive little mail. To have a letter from a distinguished person is superlative honor and the recipient usually makes the fact known generally. Just how the negro conceived of receiving letters from God, or why he imagined the angels and apostles as writing letters does not appear clear. One gets a letter, another reads it; one writes a letter and all know its contents. Such a reference is found in a number of songs, that serve as a warning or admonition. Well my mother got a letter, O yes, Well she could not read it, O yes, What you reckon that letter said? That she didn’t have long to stay here. Won’t you come, won’t you come? Won’t you come an’ get ready to die? Won’t you come, for my Lord is callin’ you? How do you know that my Lord is callin’, O yes? If you look at this letter, O yes, You see it come from the Hebrews, O yes, Won’t you come, for my Lord is callin’ you. Perhaps the idea of the letter came from the epistles of the New Testament. John and Peter wrote letters; Mary and Martha read them. The letters of the Hebrews and Ephesians are spoken of. The idea “It just suits me” seems to have sprung up from satisfaction in reading the “word” or in hearing the sermon and praying in the usual way. John wrote a letter and he wrote it in haste, An’ it jus’ suit me: John wrote a letter and he wrote it in haste, An’ it jus’ suit me. [Pg 81] John wrote a letter and he wrote it in haste, If yer want to go to heaven yer better make haste, An’ it jus’ suit me. I’ll tell you a little thing that was in that letter, An’ it jus’ suit me. I’ll tell you a little thing that was in John’s letter, The Holy Ghost came to make us better, An’ it jus’ suit me. In the same form and repetition are sung other stanzas, all of which “suit” the negroes pretty well. If this isn’t the Holy Ghost I don’t know, I never felt such a love befo’, But it jus’ suit me. O my brother, you oughter been at de pool, To see me put on my gospel shoes, An’ it jus’ suit me. Ezekiel said he spied the train a comin’, We got on board an’ she never stopped runnin’, An’ it jus’ suit me. This kind er religion is better than gold, It’s better felt than ever told, An’ it jus’ suit me. I tell you a little thing you can’t do, You can’t serve God and the devil, too, But it jus’ suit me. When trouble is done an’ conflict have passed, I rise to reign in peace at last, An’ it jus’ suit me. By this time the singers are happy enough and the preacher joins them in shouting, “Yes, brethren, it just suits me.” It is gratifying to the negroes that their sins have been “washed in the blood of the Lamb”, as indeed it ought to be. Perhaps they give it its undue prominence without thought; for they have no conception of the seriousness of their claims. The negro singers have exhibited a characteristic specimen of their word combinations, concrete pictures, and theological principles in their song, “De blood done sign my name.” O de blood, O de blood, O de blood done sign my name; O Jesus said so, Jesus said so, [Pg 82]O de blood done sign my name. I believe it for God he tole me, That the blood done sign my name, I believe it for God he tole me, That the blood done sign my name, Yes, the blood done sign my name. How do you know so, God he said so That the blood done sign my name. Well it’s written in de Kingdom, That the blood done sign my name. Well in de Lamb’s book it is written, That the blood done sign my name. Well the wheels a turnin’, wheels a turnin’, Blood done sign my name. I’m boun’ for glory, boun’ for glory, The blood done sign my name. On de mountain, on de mountain, The blood done sign my name. In the valley, in the valley, Blood done sign my name. But the Christian does not have an easy time after his conversion. Satan is always at hand and ready to lead him away if there is a chance. The negro’s idea of satan and the devil has been noted. In his march songs the negro imagines that he is marching against his foe; this foe is sometimes satan himself. “The other world is not lak’ dis” is a typical marching song. I er’s walkin’ ’long de oder day, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis, I met ole satan on de way, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis, He said, “Young man, you’re too young to pray”, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis. Tell all dis worl’, Tell all dis worl’, Tell all dis worl’, De odder worl’ is not lak’ dis. As I went down in de valley to pray, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis, I met a little looker on de way, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis, He said: “Look out fer de Judgment day”, De udder worl’ is not lak’ dis. [Pg 83]Another marching song that is a rousing one is “Goin’ down to Jord’n”. It represents, like the one just given, the attributes of satan and his relation to the Christian. The scene as pictured, the army marching on down to Jordan, the imaginary foe, and the rhythm of the song make it a favorite. Halleluyer to the Lam’, Goin’ on down to Jordan, Lord God’s on that givin’ han’, Goin’ on down to Jordan. Goin’ down to Jordan, Goin’ down to Jordan, I got my breas’plate, sword an’ shield, Goin’ down to Jordan, Boldly mar chin’ thru’ the field, Goin’ on down to Jordan. I plucked one block out’n satan’s wall, Goin’ on down to Jordan, I heard him stumble an’ saw him fall, Goin’ on down to Jordan. Ole satan’s a liar an’ a conjurer, too, Goin’ on down to Jordan, If you don’t mind he’ll conjure you, Goin’ down to Jordan. Ole satan mad an’ I am glad, He missed a soul he thought he had. Ole satan thought he had me fast, Broke his chain an’ I’m free at last. I’ve landed my feet on Jordan’s sho’, Now I’m free forever mo’, Goin’ on down to Jordan. Something has been observed about the negro’s attitude toward the crucifixion. The old songs asked: “Wus you dere when dey crucified my Lord? When dey put the crown of thorns on?” and other scenes. In some of the songs the negroes sang “I wus dere when”, etc., while still others only affirm the facts. The songs of the present generation of negroes are less vivid and less full of feeling for the suffering of the Master. Some of the verses are similar to those of the plantation songs. He carried his cross, he carried his cross, [Pg 84]Up Zion hill, up Zion hill, He carried his cross, he carried his cross, Up Zion hill, up Zion hill, He carried his cross up Zion hill, Zion hill, Zion hill. They put on him the thorny crown (3), Then they nail my Jesus down, They nail him down, nail him down, nail him down, They lif’ the cross high in the air (3), To show the worl’ how they nail him there, How they nail him there, nail him there, nail him there. A peculiar corruption of this song represents the prodigal son as being in the place of Christ; now it is the prodigal, now it is the Lord. It indicates the manner of the development of many of these songs, and shows something of the insignificance of the words on the minds of the singers. He sings with his holy laugh: Yes, the prodigal son come home, ha, ha, Yes, the prodigal son come home, ha, ha, The prodigal son come home by hisself. An’ they nail him to the cross, ha, ha, An’ they nail him to the cross, ha, ha, An’ they nail him to the cross on that day. An’ the blood come runnin’ down, ha, ha, The blood come runnin’ down, ha, ha, An’ the blood come runnin’ down, on that day. An’ they kill the fat’nin’ calf, ha, ha, An’ they kill the fat’nin’ calf, ha, ha, They kill the fat’nin’ calf on that day. An’ they carried my Lord away, ha, ha, An’ they carried my Lord away, ha, ha, They carried my Lord away, by hisself. Paul and Silas, Peter and John are models for proper contemplation. One of the old songs represented Peter and Paul as bound in jail. “Togedda dey sung, togedda dey prayed, De Lawd he heard how dey sung an’ prayed. Den humble yo’selves, de bell done rung.” “Paul an’ Silas bound in jail, The Christians pray both night and day,” represented another song, one version of which has survived and is current to-day. Most of the song consists in repetitions. Paul and Silas bound in jail, Paul and Silas bound in jail, Paul and Silas bound in jail, Paul and Silas bound in jail. [Pg 85] Paul did pray one mournful prayer (4). Don’t you wish you could pray like Paul?(4) He prayed an’ the good Lord set him free (4). Another version prays for the angels to come down and unlock the door of the jail. It has a striking parallel among the secular songs and might have been composed with the idea of the negro in jail as being rescued. Come down angel with the key, Come down angel with the key, My Lord, angel, come down with the key. Unlock the door for me-e-e, Unlock the door for me-e-e, My Lord, unlock the door for me. Paul and Silas is in jail, Paul and Silas is in jail, My Lord, Paul and Silas is in jail. Unlock the jail-house door, Unlock the jail-house door-oor, My Lord, unlock the jail house door. Among those of the Bible who have been the special subject of song, Noah has a prominent place. References to him have been made already. He is always the hero of the flood. In most of the songs wherein a special character has an important part, it is in the chorus or refrain. So in “Fohty days an’ nights”, a general mixture of songs and ideas, Noah and the flood make the chorus. Dey calls bro’ Noah a foolish man, Fohty days an’ nights, He built de ark upon de lan’, Fohty days an’ nights. En, ho, ho, didn’t it rain? O yes, you know it did. Ho, ho, didn’t it rain? O yes, you know it did. Ole Satan wears a iron shoe, Hit’s fohty days an’ nights, Ef you don’t mind gwine slip it on you, Fohty days an’ nights. Some go to meetin’ to put on pretense, Fohty days an’ nights, Until de day ob grace is spent, Fohty days an’ nights. [Pg 86] Some go to meetin’ to sing an’ shout, Fohty days an’ nights, Fo’ six months dey’ll be turned out, Fohty days an’ nights. I tell you brother an’ I tell you twice, It’s fohty days an’ nights, My soul done anchored in Jesus Christ, Fohty days an’ nights. If you git dar befo’ I do, Forty days an’ nights, Look out fer me I’se comin’ too, Fohty days an’ nights. You baptize Peter an’ you baptize Paul, It’s fohty days an’ nights, But de Lord-God-er-mighty gwine baptize all, It’s fohty days an’ nights. Another version in one of the old songs says: “Some go to church to laugh and talk, but dey knows nuthin’ ’bout de Christian’s walk”. “De Ole Ark a-moverin’” was the title of a plantation song which gave the story of Noah and the flood. Noah and his sons “went to work upon dry lan’”, and everything went according to the original “plan”. Jes’ wait a little while, I’m gwine tell you ’bout de ole ark, De Lord told Noah for to build him an ole ark, Den Noah and his sons went to work upon dry lan’, Dey built dat ark jes’ accordin’ to comman’, Noah an’ his sons went to work upon de timber, De proud begin to laugh the silly to point de finger, When de ark was finished jes’ accordin’ to plan, Massa Noah took his family both animal an’ man, When de rain begin to fall and de ark begin to rise, De wicked hung round wid der groans and der cries, Fohty days and fohty nights de rain it kep’ a fallin’, De wicked clumb de trees an’ for help dey kep’ callin’, Dat awful rain she stopped at las’, de waters dey subsided, An’ dat ole ark wid all aboard on Ararat rided. This is the picture which the plantation and slave negro has made for his satisfaction. The present-day song that apparently originated in the above song is less elaborate, having only portions of the old song, and not being much in demand. It, too, is called “Didn’t it rain?” God told Noah ’bout de rainbow sign— [Pg 87]Lawd, didn’t it rain? No more water but fier nex’ time— O didn’t it rain? Halleluyer. O didn’t it rain, O didn’t it rain? Halleluyer, didn’t it rain? Some fohty days an’ nights. Well it rain fohty days an’ nights widout stoppin’, Lawd, didn’t it rain? The sinner got mad ’cause the rain kept a droppin’, O didn’t it rain? Halleluyer. Among the most interesting of all the negro spirituals are those which have been composed in recent years. These are significant in their bearing upon the temperament and religion of the present-day negro. These songs are efforts at poetry, while at the same time they unite biblical story with song. How they are often begun and for what purposes they are composed was mentioned in the previous discussion concerning the origin of negro songs. Further analysis of the form may be made in the study of the negro’s mental imagery. The following song, which gets its name from the chorus, is entitled “My Trouble is Hard”, and was composed by “Sister Bowers”. It was printed on a single sheet for distribution; each person who contributed to the collection was entitled to a copy, or a copy could be had for a nickel. She sung her new song to the crowds wherever she went, and then was given a pro-rata of the collections. With the chorus repeated after each stanza, as the negroes always do, it becomes a song of unusual length: I know a man that was here before Christ, His name was Adam and Eve was his wife, I’ll tell you how this man lived a rugged life, Just by taking this woman’s advice. My trouble is hard, O yes, My trouble is hard, O yes, My trouble is hard, O yes, Yes indeed, my trouble is hard. Whilst you are sitting on your seat, Let me tell you something that is sweet, When all God’s people in glory meet, They will slip and slide the golden street. Stop young man, I’ve something to say; You know you’re sinful and why don’t you pray? You’re sinning against a sin-venged God, Who has power to slay us all. [Pg 88] O Lord, aint it a pity—ain’t it a shame— To see how my Lord and Saviour was slain? I hate to call the murderer’s name, I know they are dead but left the stain. Read the Scriptures and be content, You are bound to know what Jesus meant, John was here before his advent; Stood in the wilderness and cried “Repent”. Christ called his apostles two by two, He particularly told them what to do, Preach my gospel as I command you, And I’ll be with you all the way through. Just me tell you what David done, Old man Jesse’s youngest son: He slayed Goliath that mighty one, Ole Saul pursued him but he had to run. Ole Saul pursued poor David’s life— It’s a mighty good thing he had a wife, They went to his house and did surround And she took a rope and let him down. God called Jonah in a powerful way, He told old Jonah just what to say; Tell them people if they don’t pray, I’ll destroy the city of Nineveh. Just let me tell you how this world is fixed, Satan has got it so full of tricks, You can go from place to place, Everybody’s runnin’ down the colored race. Almost equally interesting is “That’s another Witness for my Lord.” It will be noticed in these songs that references and phrases taken from the old songs are often used, but in different combinations. They thus lose their former worth. It will be interesting, too, to compare the negro’s religious conceptions of the Bible and God as expressed in these songs with those expressed in the older productions: Has he advanced in his theology? Read in Genesis, you understand, Methuselah was the oldest man, Lived nine hundred and sixty-nine, Died and went to heaven in due time. Methuselah is a witness for my Lord, Methuselah is a witness for my Lord. You read about Sampson from his birth, [Pg 89]Strongest man that lived on the earth, ’Way back yonder in ancient times, He slayed three thousand of the Philistines. Sampson he went wanderin’ about, For his strength hadn’t been found out, His wife dropped down upon her knees, Said: “Sampson, tell me where your strength lies, please.” Delila’ talked so good and fair; He told her his strength lie in his hair; “Shave my head just as clean as your hands, And my strength’ll be like a nachual man’s.” Wasn’t that a witness for my Lord? Wasn’t that a witness for my Lord? Isaiah mounted on de wheel o’time, Spoke to God-er-mighty way down the line: Said, “O Lord, to me reveal, How can this vile race be healed?” God said: “Tell the sons of men, Unto them’ll be born a king, Them that believe upon his Way, They shall rest in the latter day.” Isaiah was a witness for my Lord, Isaiah was a witness for my Lord. There was a man amongst the Pharisees, Named Nicodemus and he didn’t believe, He went to the Master in the night, And told him to take him out er human sight. “You are the Christ, I’m sure it’s true, For none do de miracles dat you do, But how can a man, now old in sin, Turn back still and be born again?” Christ said, “Man, if you want to be wise, You’d better repent and be baptized; Believe on me, the Son of Man, Then you will be born’d again.” Wasn’t that a witness for my Lord? Wasn’t that a witness for my Lord? “After ’While” gives a slightly different form of verse, but with somewhat the same characteristics in other respects as those just given. There is little regularity in the metrical arrangement, but it makes a good song. The worl’ is full of forms and changes, It’s just now so confuse, [Pg 90]You will find some danger In everything you use: But this is consolation to every blood washed child, God’s goin’ to change our station after while. Afterwhile, afterwhile, God’s goin’ to change our station, afterwhile. The devil tries to throw down Everything that’s good, He’d fix a way to confine The righteous if he could, Thanks be to God almighty, he cannot be beguiled, Ole satan will be done fightin’ afterwhile. Some men and women who help the world along, By constantly complaining of everything that’s done, They want to be called Christians and all their badness hide, God’s goin’ to open the secret afterwhile. Preachers in their sermons stand up and tell the truth, They’ll go about and murmur with slander and abuse; They want the whole arrangement to suit their selfish style, God’s goin’ to rain down fire afterwhile. In a general mixture of old song and new song, of old traits and new traits, the negro sings a beautiful song which he has called: “Whar’ shall I be?” The usual imagery is seen. Moses lived til he got old, Whar’ shall I be? Buried in de mountain, so I’m told, Whar’ shall I be? Whar’ shall I be when de fust trumpet sounds? Whar’ shall I be when it sounds so loud? When it sound so loud that it wake up the dead, Whar’ shall I be when it sounds? Well God showed Noar de rainbow sign, Whar’ shall I be? No more water but fire nex’ time, Whar’ shall I be? Mathew, Mark, Luke and John, Whar’ shall I be? Tole me whar’ my Saviour gone; Whar’ shall I be? John declar’d he saw a man, Whar’ shall I be? Wid seben lamps in his right han’, Whar’ shall I be? [Pg 91]The exact meaning of the following song could not be ascertained. It is apparently derived from some idea of the scriptural invocation and blessing upon the disciples. It is said to have a special message to the preacher, and is sometimes represented as being the words of God; at other times the encouragement of a friend and the reply. Go and I will go with you; Open your mouth and I’ll speak for you; If I go and tell them what you say they won’t believe me. Shout and I shout with you; Throw out your arms and I catch you; If they see you going with me, they won’t believe on you. So it’s go and I go with you; Open your mouth and I speak for you, Shout and I shout with you, Throw out your arms and I catch you, If I go and tell them what you say they won’t believe me. Another song of the modern type seems to appeal to the negroes very strongly. Again he is seeing a vivid picture of the Christ in the long years ago. But just where he gets the exact ideas by which to make the combinations is a little doubtful. Perhaps he gets the central thought from the miracle of Cana. If my mother ask you for me, tell her I gone to Gallerlee, I ought to a been there four thousand years ago, To drink of the wine. Drinkin’ of the wine, drinkin’ of the wine, Drinkin’ of the wine, Drinkin’ of the wine, Christ was there four thousand years ago, Drinkin’ of the wine. You may mourn, sinner, mourn, the Lord help you to mourn, Christ was there four thousand years ago, Drinkin’ of the wine. So, too, you may moan, weep, cry, pray, brother, sister, father, mother, backslider, and any others that the singer happens to think of, and the chorus, “Drinkin’ of the wine,” is the favorite refrain. Again in “The Blind Man” the picture is one of confusing the scriptural scenes with those of the present, and of placing himself in the stead of the central character of the story. Well the blind man stood by the grave and cried, Well the blind man stood by the wave and cried, Yes, the blind man stood by the wave and cried. [Pg 92] He cried, “O Lord, don’t you hear po’ me?” Hark, the blind man stood by the wave and cried, He cried, “O Lord, don’t you hear po’ me?” Brother don’t you hear the blind cries, blind cries? Brother don’t you hear the blind cries, blind cries? O brother, don’t you hear the blind cries? Jesus he give de blind man sight, blind man sight, Jesus he give de blind man sight, blind man sight, Yes, Jesus he give de blind man sight. He also sings “sister, don’t you hear,” etc., brother, father, preacher. A peculiar modification of “Walking in the Light” is the song of the same name among the negroes, which seems to have its origin in the scriptural injunction, “Ye are the light of the world.” Let yo’ light shine all over the world, Walkin’ in the light, beautiful light. Mos’ wonderful light, shine by night, Let yo’ light shine all over the world. I am the light, most pitiful light, Let yo’ light shine all over the world. Follow the light, mos’ beautiful light, Let yo’ light shine all over the world. Sinner, what you gwine do when the lamp stops burnin’, Let yo’ light shine all over the world? The negro prays to be remembered at Calvary; so, too, he asks to remember Calvary and the Lord. A single fragment of the old song remains: O Lord remember me, remember Calvary, For without any doubt and you remember the Lord, I pray thee, Lord, remember me, O Lord, remember me, remember Calvary. The “Pilgrim’s song” that has been considered so beautiful is still a favorite; the words of the stanzas differ little. It may be called a standard hymn of the negroes. There is a story that Bishop Allen, the founder of the A. M. E. church, composed the song on his dying bed. He was very well educated and a man of considerable ability and feeling. While the sadly hopeful words of the song are of a higher type than the average spiritual, and while its metrical form is far above the usual, the song still combines many of the ideas and phrases of the favorite spirituals of the slaves. One of these songs,[Pg 93] “I hope my mother will be there, In that beautiful world on high”, embodies the same sentiment and in similar words. Another, “Give ’way Jordan, I want to go across to see my Lord. I heard sweet music, I wish dat music would come here”, represents the other part of the song. The Pilgrim’s song as it is found is: I am a poor way-faring stranger, While journeying through this world of woe, But there is no sickness, toil, nor danger, In that bright world to which I go. I’m going there to see my classmates, They said they’d meet me when I come, I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just going over home. I know dark clouds’ll gather round me, I know my road is rough and steep, Yet there bright fields are lying just before me, Where God’s redeemed and vigils keep. I’m going there to see my mother, She said she’d meet me when I come, I’m just going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home. I’ll soon be free, free every trial, My body will sleep in the old churchyard. I’ll quit the cross of self-denial, And enter in my great reward. I’m going there to see my mother, She said she’d meet me when I come, I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just going over home. The only differences in the versions of the old song and its present form is the substitution of “But” for “yet”, “and” for “their”, and “free” for “from”, “drop” for “quit” in the various lines. Very much in the same class of song is “Steal Away”. The present version is much the same in general as the old, of which there were several, differing only in minor details. There is in some of the church song books a version of the song; however, the most common verses now sung are: O the green trees a-bowin’, An’ po’ sinner stan’ tremblin’, Well the trumpet soun’ in my soul, An’ I ain’t got long to stay here. [Pg 94] O steal away, steal away, O steal away to my Jesus, Steal away, steal away, For I ain’t got long to stay here. My Lord is a callin’, Po’ sinner he can’t answer, Well, the trumpet sound in my soul, An’ I ain’t got long to stay here. One of the most beautiful and at the same time simple and pathetic songs of the negroes is “Heal me, Jesus”. Here the negro is at his typical best in prayer: without pretension, without reserve, claiming nothing, he simply pleads for his desire. O Lord, I’m sick an’ I want to be healed, O Lord, I’m sick an’ I want to be healed, O Lord, I’m sick an’ I want to be healed, O Lord, I’m sick an’ I want to be healed. Heal me Jesus, heal me Jesus, Along the heavenly way, Heal me Jesus, heal me Jesus, Along the heavenly way. O Lord, I’m blind an’ I want to see, O Lord, I’m blin’ an’ I wan’ ter see, O Lord, I’m blin’ an’ I wan’ ’er see, Heal me Jesus along the heavenly way. O Lord, I’m crippl’d an’ I wan’ ’er walk, O Lord, I’m crippl’d an’ I wan’ ’er wa-a-a-l-k, O Lord, I’m cri-p-p-l-e-d an’ I want ’er walk, Heal me Jesus along the heavenly way. O Lord, I’m deaf an’ I want to hear, etc. The negroes are great believers in dress and uniform. Color, too, appeals to them as significant and the more strikingly distinct the color, the stronger impression it makes upon their imaginations. Chief among all others is the white which the angels wear; gold and purple, too, are concerned with the heavens. Among men red and black are strongest. This idea of color dressing has become interwoven in many of their songs. The rhyme helps to give the picture its vividness. The following song, with its variants, is still sung with considerable zest. Who is that yonder all dressed in red? [Pg 95]I heard the angels singing; It look like the children Moses led, I heard the angels singin’. Down on my knees, Down on my knees, I heard the angels singing. Well who that yonder all dressed in black? I heard the angels singing; It look like it’s de mourner jus’ got back, I heard the angels singing. Yes’ who’s that yonder all dressed in blue? It look like the children just come through. Instead of “mourners jus’ got back” the negroes sing “a sister, a sinner, a hypocrite, etc., jus’ got back”. Once the negroes sang: “Who’s that yonder all dressed in black? Must be children of the Israelites”, which is the common version for the answer to “Who’s all them come dressed in white?” The songs almost invariably have a different chorus for the different versions and combinations. In one of the old songs, the above verses were sung to the chorus Oh, what you say, John? Oh, what you say, John? Oh, what you say, John? De ressurection drawin’ nigh. with this last line as a refrain after each line of the song, just as above in “I heard the angels singing”. In another of the old songs the chorus was: Go, Mary, an’ ring de bell, Come, John, and call de roll, I thank God. The negro visualizes with a good deal of satisfaction. He imagines that he can see the things about which he sings. So they have imagined seeing the people dressed in white, black, red and blue; so he imagined that he could see “two tall angels comin’ after me”, or “big tall”, “long tall”, “band of angels” or whatever form the song has taken. So the negroes have told wonderful stories about the whale and the gourd vine; about the “cutter worm” as well as Jonah. The old song, modified and adapted with characteristic phraseology and expression still appeals to the negro. The “Big fish” and “Sherk” represents the terror of the sea to the negro. One old darkey explained this fact by saying that it was because the negroes were terrified[Pg 96] as they were brought over from Africa, and that they saw the whales and “fishes” in “de sea” and that “de race hain’t nebber got ober it yet”. Another ascribes the fear and imagination much to the biblical story of the whale and Jonah. Perhaps neither determines to any marked degree this feeling. However, the song “Big fish swallow Jonah”, which has made such a hit in its paraphrases and in the glee clubs, and variously, is still current in this form: Lord, the big fish, big fish, big fish, swallow ole Jonah whole, The big fish, the big fish, the big fish swallow ole Jonah; The big fish, big fish, big fish, swallow ole Jonah whole. Ole Jonah cried, “Lord save my soul”, Ole Jonah, ole Jonah, ole Jonah cried “save my-save-m-y-y”, Ole Jonah cried “Lord save my soul”. In the same manner are sung other lines: Lord, the gourd vine, gourd vine, gourd vine growed over Jonah. Well, the cutter worm, cutter worm, cutter worm cut that vine down. In addition to Jonah—and the last two stanzas are not common in the old songs—“Peter on the sea”, “Gabriel, blow your trump”, “Daniel in the lion’s den”, are sung. Those who have heard the latest form of this song rendered would scarcely imagine that it was a very appropriate church song. It has been stated that the negro makes a song his own by the simple act of singing it. If he is free and unrestrained at the same time that he is thoroughly wrought up, he adds enough to his song or changes its version sufficiently to make it almost unique. In the common tunes sung by both white and black people, the negro’s rhythm and graceful passing from one line to another, together with the insertions of shouts and “amens” renders them distinct. A number of the favorite “old time” religious songs are thus rendered by the negroes. They are the old “stand-by” hymns. The nature of some of them was indicated in the first chapter. The following songs will serve to illustrate the common practice of singing among the “spiritualists”. In “The old-time Religion” there are as many versions as the singer can make combinations. It is “Gi’ me dat ole-time religion”, or it is “’Tis that ole time religion”, or it is “Was that ole-time, etc.,” or “Will be the old time religion”. In the same way it may[Pg 97] be “good enough”, “It’s good enough”. It is, was, will be good enough for “mother, my mother, my ole mother, father, brother, sister,” and all the list of biblical names, chiefest among whom are Paul and Silas, Peter and John. So again, it is “good when dying, living, mourning, sinking, praying, talking”. It is good “when in trubble, when de worl’s on fier, when the lightening flashes, when the thunder rolls, when the heavens are melting, when the stars are falling, when the moon is bleeding, when the grave yards are opening”, and all other times that are conceived as being a part and factor in destiny. Likewise the chorus or the lines may be sung with additional “Yes”, “sure”, “well”, “Uh”, and various other expressions that are the product of the moment. One who has heard the song “Bye and bye we’ll go and see them”, rendered in an effective way must recognize its power and beauty. It is pre-eminently a song for the emotions, and suggests scenes of the past and of the future; it brings back memories that have been forgotten and forms emotions and conceptions that have not before existed. To the negro it is all this—in so far as he is able to grasp the better emotions—but it is mostly a medium through which he can sing his rhythmic feeling off. And with the additional interpretations and additions both in words and in expression, it is scarcely surpassed by any of his spirituals. The simplest form is exactly the same as that of the regular song: “Bye and bye, we’ll go and see them”, From this the negroes vary to “Bye and bye I’m a goin’ to see him, them, her”. To this chorus they nearly always add in alternate lines “Well it’s”, “Well”, “An’” and such expressions, thus: Bye an’ bye I’m goin’ to see them, Bye an’ bye I’m goin’ to see them, Well, it’s bye an’ bye I’m goin’ to see them, On de oder shore. These expressions inserted or omitted at pleasure, serve to give an additional rhythm to the song that seems otherwise to be lacking. The verses of the song, like many others, are practically unlimited. Each is repeated three or six times as the singers prefer, with the refrain “On the other shore” added at the end of each stanza. The negroes sing not only of a brother, sister, father, mother, auntie, preacher and friends, but they also sing of Paul and Silas and Daniel and Moses; they are at liberty to use any name that comes to mind. And they[Pg 98] manifest as much feeling and emotion about meeting Moses or Noah or Abraham as they do about a dear old mother. Not only will they meet these loved ones but there will be scenes “over yonder.” I’m got a brother over yonder-on the other shore. I’m goin’ to meet my brother over yonder. Tryin’ time will soon be over, on the other shore. Well, it’s mournin’ time will soon be over, on the other shore. Cryin’ time will soon be over. Prayin’ time will soon be over, etc. Shoutin’ time will soon be over, etc. If necessary they then turn to the sinner and sing: “Sinnin’ time, gamblin’ time, etc., will soon be over.” The old plantation song, instead of saying, “Brother Daniel over yonder,” had it, “Wonder where is good ole Daniel? Bye an’ bye we’ll go an’ meet him, ’Way over in de promise lan’. Wonder where’s dem Hebrew children? Wonder where’s doubtin’ Thomas? Wonder where is sinkin’ Peter?” This form is apparently not sung to-day. In the same way the negroes have modified the comparatively new songs that have been successful among the evangelists the country over. One would scarcely recognize even the tunes at first hearing, while the verses are usually entirely different. The chorus, as a rule, remains the same, save for the variations already mentioned. One or two songs may be taken as illustrations. “When the Roll is Called up yonder” appealed to the negroes for many reasons. Most of the churches sing it, and sing it “rousing” well. Their chorus is beautiful and the parts, though carried informally, make a splendid effect. But the negro does not sing the prescribed stanzas. After singing the chorus, with such additions as he feels disposed to make, and after two or three, perhaps one, of the written verses, he sings his own song: When the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there. By the grace of God up yonder, I’ll be there. Yes, my home is way up yonder, an’ I’ll be there. I got a mother way up yonder, I’ll be there. I got a sister way up yonder, I’ll be there. And without limitations he sings this new song into his old and favorite themes, often inserting stanzas and words that belong to the oldest existing negro spirituals in the same verse with the evangelist’s best efforts. Another may illustrate further: “Blessed be the Name of the Lord”, has a great many variations, some of which would never[Pg 99] be recognized without considerable study and investigation. At first the searcher is inclined to wonder at the distance the singer has got from his original, but the evolutionary steps make the process quite clear. The negroes love to sing blessing to the Lord; much of the basic principle of their theology is based upon gratitude for the final deliverance of bondage from work and suffering. It is not surprising, then, that this song should become a favorite. One of the present versions, most commonly sung is: If you git there before I do, Blessed be the name of the Lord, Tell my God I’m a comin’ too, Blessed be the name of the Lord. I turn my eyes toward de sky, Blessed be the name of the Lord, I ask the Lord for wings to fly, Blessed be the name of the Lord. And encouraged by the happy putting in to this new song an old verse, the singer proceeds to put in as many as he wishes; then in his desire for rhythm and his habit of repetition, together with the cries of “amen” or “Lord” the chorus often becomes: “My Lord, blessed be the name of the Lord.” The outcome of such a chorus may be seen in the song already cited: “Lor’ bless the Name.” In the effort to make new songs or to appropriate songs themselves, the negroes are thus constantly introducing various songs into their worship. The most common method, that of having the song printed on a single sheet for distribution, has already been mentioned. And as was there suggested, these songs are often verses taken at random from song books or poems, and put into song form. In most cases such songs are varied in such a way that the song may both meet the demand for a song of its kind and at the same time appear original. Some, indeed, are purely original productions, some of which have been cited. Just between the “spirituals” and the standard hymns are these innovation songs. They show well the circumstances which they represent. The effort is often made by members of the younger generation of negroes to substitute the new songs, together with the standard hymns for the old spirituals. They represent a step forward; young educated negroes do not like to be heard singing the simple spirituals. They claim that they are songs of the past, and, as such[Pg 100] only, are they beautiful. The following song, given in the exact form in which it was distributed, will serve to illustrate. BLESSED HOPE. By Rev. W. E. Bailey. Blessed hope that in Jesus is given, All our sorrow to cheer and sustain, That soon in the mansions of heaven We shall meet with our loved ones again. Blessed hope, blessed hope, We shall meet with our loved ones again, Blessed hope, blessed hope, We shall meet with our loved ones again. Blessed hope in the word God has spoken, All our peace by that word we obtain, And as sure as God’s word was never broken, We shall meet with our loved ones again. Blessed hope how it shines in our sorrows, Like the star over Bethlehem’s plain, We will see our Lord ere the morrow, We shall meet with our loved ones again. Blessed hope the bright star of the morning, That shall herald his coming to reign, He will come and reward all the faithful, We shall meet with our loved ones again. (Sung by Rev. J. T. Johnson.) Such a song is neither sung to an old melody nor a new tune; it is not a spiritual; it is scarcely native nor yet borrowed. It represents the general result that comes from a free intermingling of all. To such a song there may be any number of tunes; likewise there are a great many such songs introduced and may be sung alike to simple tunes. A tune is as easily selected and rendered as are the words; words are as easily improvised, or written with some care, as the melodies are natural. But they appeal less strongly to the negroes as a rule for the simple reason that “they don’t put a feelin’ in you like the old songs.” Thus the negro’s religion is dependent upon feeling; song facilitates and intensifies the feelings, and song is the essential joy of much of the negro’s life. Whenever and wherever occasion demands religious manifestation, the song is the prerequisite. Not only at the[Pg 101] church, but at lodge celebrations, funerals and memorial services, the song begins the process of “putting a feelin’” in the congregation. Again, the stress of the negro’s religion is placed upon the supernatural and the life that lies beyond his present sphere. A religious attitude is scarcely conceived by the negro without the fundamental conception of the next world. Thus is life contrasted with heaven and hell; the sinner and the righteous are but temporary; so will the souls of all one day sing with Jehovah the songs that the angels love; and there will be feeling there, too. It is thus that the central themes of the negro’s religious songs reveal both his religious nature and his mental attitude, together with the emotional characteristics that predominate. And it is easily seen that the negro’s imagery and imagination are scarcely surpassed. His religious fervor depends upon the reality of such imagery; the folk-song reflects this imagery as nothing else does. Again, the negro’s sense of sin is ever present in a feeling of guilt in the struggle between himself and the real or the imaginary; consequently he insures himself against a final sense of guilt by strong declarations of his righteousness as opposed to the sinner’s state. His sense of sin thus becomes less practical; it is rather an imaginative expression of a religious feeling. As the clearest exponent of the negro’s real self, the folk song reveals the heart of his psychic nature; it is indeed a witness to the fact that “’Ligion’s so sweet”. Does he not sing well and truthfully? I jus’ got home f’um Jordan, I jus’ got home f’um Jordan, I jus’ got home f’um Jordan, ’Ligion’s so-o-o sweet. My work is done an’ I mus’ go, My work is done an’ I mus’ go, My work is done an’ I mus’ go, ’Ligion’s so-o-o sweet. Footnotes: [1] This paper presents in substance the contents of Chapters I and II of a study on “Negro Folk-Song and Character,” with other chapters as follows: Chapter III, The Negro’s Social and Secular Songs; Chapter IV, Types of Social Songs among the Negroes; Chapter V, Work Songs and Phrases; Chapter VI, The Negro’s Mental Imagery; Chapter VII, Negro Character as Revealed in Folk-Songs and Poetry. [2] See Atlantic Monthly, Vol. XIX, pp. 685 seq., Scribners, Vol. XX, pp. 425 seq., Lippincott’s, Vol. II, 617 seq. [3] For verses not found in the present-day negro spirituals, see Slave Songs in the United States, W. F. Allen, New York, 1867, The Jubilee Singers, New York, 1873, Plantation and Cabin Songs, New York, 1892. *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RELIGIOUS FOLK-SONGS OF THE SOUTHERN NEGROES *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. 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WORK SONGS

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Negro workaday songs This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook. Title: Negro workaday songs Author: Howard Washington Odum Guy Benton Johnson Release date: November 18, 2022 [eBook #69378] Language: English Original publication: New Caledonia: University of North Carolina Press, 1926 Credits: Tim Lindell, Harry Lamé, Jude Eylander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEGRO WORKADAY SONGS *** Please see the Transcriber’s Notes at the end of this text. The cover image and music transcriptions have been created for this e-text and are in the public domain. Cover image THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA SOCIAL STUDY SERIES NEGRO WORKADAY SONGS THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA SOCIAL STUDY SERIES The Negro and His Songs $3.00 Folk Beliefs of the Southern Negro 5.00 Negro Workaday Songs 3.00 Southern Pioneers 2.00 Law and Morals 2.00 The Scientific Study of Human Society 2.00 Systems of Public Welfare 2.00 Roads to Social Peace 1.50 The Country Newspaper 1.50 Children’s Interest in Reading 1.50 NEGRO WORKADAY SONGS BY HOWARD W. ODUM, Ph.D. Kenan Professor of Sociology and Director of the School of Public Welfare, University of North Carolina AND GUY B. JOHNSON, A.M. Institute for Research in Social Science, University of North Carolina Logo Lux Veritas CHAPEL HILL THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA PRESS LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 1926 [vii] Copyright, 1926, By The University of North Carolina Press ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Presses of Edwards & Broughton Company RALEIGH [viii] A vast throng of Negro workaday singers, mirrors of a race Workingmen in the Southern United States from highway, construction camp, from railroad and farm, from city and countryside, a million strong A half million migrants from the South, Eastward, Northward, Westward, and some South again Negro offenders in thousand fold in local jails, county chain gangs, state and federal prisons A horde of Southern casual laborers and wanderers down that lonesome road A brown black army of “bad men”—creepers and ramblers and jamboree breakers, “travelin’ men” de luxe Itinerant full-handed musicianers, music physicianers and songsters, singly, in pairs, quartets, always moving on A host of women workers from field and home and factory at once singers and subjects of the lonesome blues A swelling crescendo, a race vibrato inimitable, descriptive index of group character, folk urge and race power [ix- x] PREFACE Negro Workaday Songs is the third volume of a series of folk background studies of which The Negro and His Songs was the first and Folk-Beliefs of the Southern Negro was the second. The series will include a number of other volumes on the Negro and likewise a number presenting folk aspects of other groups. The reception which the first volumes have received gives evidence that the plan of the series to present scientific, descriptive, and objective studies in as interesting and readable form as possible may be successful in a substantial way. Since the data for background studies are, for the time being, practically unlimited, it is hoped that other volumes, appearing as they become available and timely, may glimpse the whole range—from the Negro “bad man” to the æsthetic in the folk urge. In this volume, as in previous ones, the emphasis is primarily social, although this indicates no lack of appreciation of the inherent literary and artistic values of the specimens presented. Indeed, so far as possible, all examples of folk expression in this volume are left to tell their own story. The type melodies and musical notations are presented separately with the same descriptive purpose as the other chapters, and they are not offered as a substitute for effective harmonies and musical interpretation. For the purposes of this volume, however, the separate chapters on the melodies and phono-photographic records with musical notations are very important. It is also important that they be studied separately, but in the light of the preceding chapters, rather than inserted in the text to detract from both the social and artistic interpretation of the songs enumerated. [xi] The Seashore-Metfessel phono-photographic records and musical notations mark an important contribution to the whole field of interpretation of Negro music. There may be an outstanding contribution both to the musical world and to the whole interpretation of Negro backgrounds in the possible thesis that the Negro, in addition to his distinctive contribution to harmony, excels also in the vibrato quality of the individual voice. These studies were made at Chapel Hill and at Hampton by Dr. Carl E. Seashore and Dr. Milton Metfessel of the University of Iowa, under the auspices of the Institute for Research in Social Science at the University of North Carolina through a special grant of the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial. Full acknowledgment to them is here made. It should be kept constantly in mind that this volume, like The Negro and His Songs, is in no sense an anthology or general collection, but represents the group of songs current in certain areas in North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia, during the years 1924-25. Of course all of this collection cannot be included in this volume; and no doubt many of the most important or most attractive specimens extant have escaped us at this time. It is also important to note that in this volume, as in the previous one, all specimens listed, except lines or references otherwise designated, were taken directly from Negro singers and do not represent reports from memory of white individuals. So far as we know none of the songs in this collection has been published, although there are countless variations, adaptations and corruptions of the modern blues and jazz songs represented in the group. The songs, however, were all[xii] sung or repeated by actual Negro workers or singers, and much of their value lies in the exact transcription of natural lines, words, and mixtures. The collection is still growing by leaps and bounds. In this volume every type is represented except the “dirty dozen” popular models and the more formal and sophisticated creations. Since this volume presents a series of pictures of the Negro as portrayed through his workaday songs it is important that all chapters be read before any final judgment is made. Even then the picture will not be complete. It has not been possible, of course, to make any complete or accurate classification of the songs. They overlap and repeat. They borrow sentiment and expression and repay freely. Free labor song becomes prison song, and chain gang melody turns to pick-and-shovel accompaniment. The chapter divisions, therefore, are made with the idea of approximating a usable classification and providing such mechanical divisions as will facilitate the best possible presentation. The reader who approaches this volume from the point of view of the technical student of folk song will likely be disappointed at what he considers the lack of discrimination displayed by the authors in admitting so many songs which cannot be classed as strictly folk songs. We have frankly taken the position that these semi-folk songs, crude and fragmentary, and often having only local or individual significance, afford even more accurate pictures of Negro workaday life and art than the conventional folk songs. While we have spared no effort to make the collection valuable for folk song students, we have approached the work primarily as sociologists. [xiii] For assistance in recording the type melodies in Chapter XIV we are specially indebted to Mr. Lee M. Brooks, and for many of the songs of women to Mrs. Henry Odum. We wish to thank Mr. Gerald W. Johnson for his goodness in going over much of the manuscript and making valuable suggestions. To Dr. L. R. Wilson, Director of the University of North Carolina Press, we are much indebted for coöperation and suggestions. Chapel HillH. W. O. January, 1926G. B. J. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. Background Resources in Negro Songs and Work 1 II. The Blues: Workaday Sorrow Songs 17 III. Songs of the Lonesome Road 35 IV. Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 47 V. Songs of Jail, Chain Gang, and Policemen 71 VI. Songs of Construction Camps and Gangs 88 VII. Just Songs to Help With Work 118 VIII. Man’s Song of Woman 135 IX. Woman’s Song of Man 152 X. Folk Minstrel Types 166 XI. Workaday Religious Songs 188 XII. The Annals and Blues of Left Wing Gordon 206 XIII. John Henry: Epic of the Negro Workingman 221 XIV. Types of Negro Melodies 241 XV. Types of Phono-photographic Records of Negro Singers 252 Bibliography 265 Index to Songs 271 NEGRO WORKADAY SONGS [1] CHAPTER I BACKGROUND RESOURCES IN NEGRO SONG AND WORK To discover and present authentic pictures of the Negro’s folk background as found in his workaday songs is a large and promising task of which there are many phases. Here are spontaneous products of the Negro’s workaday experiences and conflicts. Here are reflections of his individual strivings and his group ways. Here are specimens of folk art and creative effort close to the soil. Here are new examples of the Negro’s contributions to the American scene. Here is important material for the newer scientific interest which is taking the place of the old sentimental viewpoint. And here is a mine of descriptive and objective data to substitute for the emotional and subjective attitudes of the older days. It is a day of great promise in the United States when both races, North and South, enter upon a new era of the rediscovery of the Negro and face the future with an enthusiasm for facts, concerning both the newer creative urge and the earlier background sources. Concerning the former, Dr. Alain Locke recently has said:[1] “Whoever wishes to see the Negro in his essential traits, in the full perspective of his achievement and possibilities, must seek the enlightenment of that self-portraiture which the present development of the Negro culture offers.” One of the best examples of that self-portraiture is that of the old spirituals, long neglected, but now happily the subject of a new race dedication and appreciation. Now comes another[2] master index of race temperament and portrayal, as found in some of the Negro’s newer creations. No less important, from the viewpoint of sheer originality and poetic effort as well as of indices of traits and possibilities, are the seemingly unlimited mines of workaday songs, weary blues, and black man ballads. In a previous volume[2] we presented a sort of composite picture from two hundred songs gathered two decades ago and interpreted with something of prophetic evaluation. In this volume of Negro Workaday Songs is presented a deeper mine of source material, rich in self-portraiture and representative of the workaday Negro. [1]The New Negro, edited by Alain Locke. [2]The Negro and His Songs, by Howard W. Odum and Guy B. Johnson. In his Peter the Czar, violent story of “lashed sentences,” perfectly suited to the depiction of primitive character, Klabund pictures vividly a certain Great Enemy about whose “shivering shoulders lay a rainbow like a silken shawl.” Digging to the syncopated rhythm of song and fast-whirling pick, a Negro workman sings of another rainbow, equally vivid and shoulder-draped, more concrete, personal, and real: Ev’ywhere I look this, Ev’ywhere I look this mo’nin’, Looks like rain. I got rainbow Tied ’round my shoulder, Ain’t gonna rain, Lawd, ain’t gonna rain.[3] [3]Musical notation will be found in Chapter XIV. In addition to the poetic imagery in this seemingly unconscious motor-minded product, one may glimpse evidences of simple everyday experience, wishful thought, childlike faith, workaday stolidity, physical[3] satisfaction, and subtle humor. But he can find still more humor and experience, with a good bit of metaphor thrown in for good measure, in the “feet rollin’” stanza of another wanderer’s song of the road: I done walk till, Lawd, I done walk till Feet’s gone to rollin’, Jes’ lak a wheel, Lawd, jes’ lak a wheel. Resourcefulness, humor, defense mechanism, imagination, all might be found in the spectacle of a group of Negroes singing over and over again on a hot July day the refreshing lines, Oh, next winter gonna be so cold, Oh, next winter gonna be so cold, Oh, next winter gonna be so cold, Fire can’t warm you, be so cold. With the thermometer around a hundred, and the work of digging at hand, this song of “parts,” with some of the singers using the words, “be so cold, be so cold” as an echo, undoubtedly had peculiar merit. Perhaps there have been few, if any, lines of poetry more popular than Wordsworth’s “The light that never was on sea or land.” The Negro worker sings of a more earthly yet equally miraculous light to guide his pathway, when he complains, Now ev’y time I, Time I start ’round mountain, My light goes out, Lawd, Lawd, my light goes out. I’m gonna buy me, Buy me magnified lantern, [4] It won’t go out, Lawd, Lawd, it won’t go out. How much of symbolism is to be found in the Negro’s workaday songs? How much subjective imagery, how much unconscious allegory? There are abundant examples of the free use of symbolism in his love songs and popular jazz appeals. But what does he mean when he sings, Ever see wild cat Hug a lion, Lawd, Lawd? My ol’ bear cat Turn to lion, Lawd, Lawd. Ever see lion Run lak hell, Lawd, Lawd? Or contrast this simple individual song, with its humor and easy-going rhythm, with the power and appeal of group singing. Here is a goodly party of two-score white folk, seated at twilight under the trees in a grove, joyous guests at a turkey dinner near the old colonial home. There is merriment. Song and jest, toast and cheer abound. The waiters have gone. Then from the kitchen door comes the song of Negroes, beginning low, rising in volume, telling of the sinking of the Titanic. What is it in that final harmony of “God moved upon the waters,” sung by a Negro group, which silenced the merrymakers into willing recognition that here may be perfect art and perfect effect? Does this Negro minstrel type, rendered thus in native setting, become for the moment the perfect expression of folk spirit and folk art? Hundreds of verses dedicated to the business of moving about give evidence that the trail of the black knight of the road is strewn with spontaneous[5] song, often turned into polished phrase. A favorite stanza has long been descriptive of being “on road here few days longer, then I’ll be going home.” Sung again and again, the song takes on a new form but loses nothing of its emphatic meaning: I’m gonna row here, I’m gonna row here Few days longer, Then I’ll be gone, Lawd, I’ll be gone. For, says the worker, “If I feel tomorrow like I feel today, I’m gonna pack my suitcase and walk away,” and “reason I’m workin’ here so long, hot flambotia and coffee strong.” Following the trail of the workaday Negro, therefore, one may get rare glimpses of common backgrounds of Negro life and experience in Southern communities. Here were the first real plantings of the modern blues, here songs of the lonesome road, here bad man ballads, here distinctive contributions in songs of jail and chain gang, here songs of white man and captain, here Negro Dr. Jekyls and Mr. Hydes. Here are found new expressions of the old spirituals and remnants still surviving. Here man’s song of woman is most varied and original, and woman’s song of man is best echoed from days and nights of other times. Here are reflected the epics of John Henry, Lazarus, Dupree, and the others. Here are folk fragments, cries and “hollers,” songs to help with work, physical satisfaction and solace, the “Lawdy-Lawdy” vibrato of evening melancholy and morning yodel. Here may be found the subliminal jazz, rare rhythm and movement, coöperative harmony as characteristic as ever the old spirituals revealed. Nevertheless, too much emphasis[6] cannot be placed upon the danger of over-interpretation, for while the workaday songs provide a seemingly exhaustive supply of mirror plate for the reflection of folk temperament and struggle, too much analysis must not obscure their vividness or the beauty and value of their intrinsic qualities. It is important to note the extent to which the notable popular blues of today, more formal embodiment of the Negro’s workaday sorrow songs, have come from these workaday products. Here are true descendants of the old worshipers who sang so well of the Rock in a weary land. And echoing from Southern distances, from Memphis and Natchez, from New Orleans and Macon, from Charleston and Atlanta, and from wayside roads and camps, from jail and chain gang, come unmeasured volume of harmony, unnumbered outbursts of song, perfect technique of plaintive appeal. Many of the most plaintive lines of blues yet recorded were gathered decades ago from camp and road in Mississippi before the technique of the modern blues had ever been evolved. Eloquent successors to the old spirituals with their sorrow-feeling, these songs of the lonesome road have gathered power and numbers and artistic interpretation until they defy description and record. Today the laborer, the migrant, the black man offender constitute types as distinctive and inimitable as the old jubilee singers and those whom they represented. Wherever Negroes work, or loaf, or await judgment, there may be heard the weary and lonesome blues so strange and varied as to reveal a sort of superhuman evidence of the folk soul. No amount of ordinary study into race backgrounds, or historical annals of African folk, or elaborate anthropological excursions can give so simply and completely the story of this Negro quest for expression,[7] freedom, and solace as these low-keyed melancholy songs. And what names and lines, words and melodies, records and improvisations of the new race blues! Plaintive blues, jolly blues, reckless blues, dirty dozen blues, mama blues, papa blues,—more than six hundred listed by one publisher and producer. Here they are—the workaday sorrow songs, the errant love songs, the jazz lyrics of a people and of an age—as clearly distinctive as the old spirituals. And how like the road songs and the gang lines, straight up from the soil again, straight from the folk as surely as ever came the old spirituals. Samples of the growing list of blues, some less elegant, some more aggressive, will be found in Chapter II. And of course we must not forget the bad man blues: Dangerous Blues, Evil Blues, Don’t Mess With Me Blues, Mean Blues, Wicked Blues, and most of all the Chain Gang Blues, Jail Blues, and the Cell-bound Blues. All boun’ in prison, All boun’ in jail, Col’ iron bars all ’roun’ me, No one to pay my bail. And the singer presents, as one of his standard versions of many songs, a regular weekly calendar: Monday I was ’rested, Tuesday I was fined, Wednesday I laid in jail, Thursday I was tried, Friday wid chain gang band, Saturday pick an’ shovel, Sunday I took my rest, Monday wanta do my best. [8] Perhaps the most common concept found in the chain gang and road songs and appearing here and there in all manner of song is the concept of a letter from home, the inability to go home without “ready money,” the attempt to borrow from the captain, or to get a parole. Every, every mail day, I gits letter from my mother, Cryin’, “Son, come home, Lawdy, son, come home.” I didn’t have no, No ready-made money, I couldn’t go home, Lawd, couldn’t go home. A constant source of song is the conflict between actual conditions and desirable ends, between life as it is and ideals of wishful dreaming. “I want to go home,” says the workman, but “I don’t want no trouble wid de walker.” The resulting product is absence from home, absence of trouble with the captain or walker, and abundance of song. I don’t want no trouble, I don’t want no trouble, I don’t want no trouble wid de walker. Lawd, Lawd, I wanta go home. Me an’ my buddy jes’ come, Me an’ my buddy jes’ come, Me an’ my buddy jes’ come here. Lawd, Lawd, wanta go home. Again and again the Negro wanderer portrays home, parents, brothers and sisters, friends, as the most highly esteemed of life’s values—striking paradox to the realism of his practice. Idealism in song and dreams, in workaday songs as well as spirituals,[9] alongside sordidness in living conditions and physical surroundings, appear logical and direct developments from the type of habitation which the Negro common man has ever known. The Negro “bad man” who sings sorrowfully of his mother’s admonitions and his own mistakes, glories also in the motor-imaged refrain: In come a nigger named Billy Go-helf, Coon wus so mean wus skeered uf hisself; Loaded wid razors an’ guns, so they say, ’Cause he killed a coon most every day. A later chapter is devoted to this notable character, the “bad man,” whose varied pictures represent a separate Negro contribution. Here are new and worthy Negro exhibits to add to the American galaxy of folk portraits: Railroad Bill alongside Jesse James, the Negro “bad man” beside the Western frontiersman, and John Henry by Paul Bunyan. For from the millions of Negroes of yesterday and as many more today, with their oft-changing and widely varying economic and social conditions, has come a rare and varied heritage of folk tradition, folk character, and folk personality. Much of this might remain forever unknown and unsung were it not for the treasure-house of Negro song, the product of a happy facility for linking up the realities of actual life with wishful thinking and imaginative story. Of the grand old “saints,” white haired “Uncles” and “Aunties,” we have viewed from near and far scores of inimitable examples. Of the thousands of musicianers, songsters and workers, and those who sing “down that lonesome road,” recent epochs have mirrored many. But what of the real and mythical jamboree breakers and bad men, or of Po’ Lazarus and[10] Stagolee, or of John Henry, “forehanded steel-drivin’ man” and ideal of the Negro worker? Here are rare folk figures silhouetted against a sort of shifting race background with its millions of working folk and wanderers moving suddenly and swiftly across the scene. A brown-black army of ramblers, creepers, high flyers, standin’ men, all-night workers, polish men, “stick and ready” from the four corners of the States—Lazarus, Billy Bob Russel, Shootin’ Bill, Brady, Dupree, and the others. And then John Henry, stately and strong in contrast, noble exponent of sturdy courage and righteous struggle, faithful to death. John Henry went to the mountain, Beat that steam-drill down; Rock was high, po’ John was small, He laid down his hammer an’ he died, Laid down his hammer an’ he died. A chapter on “Man’s Song of Woman” will make but a small beginning of a large task. Its sequel must be deferred until the lover’s specialisms can be published with a liberal usage of the psychiatrists’ terminology. A chapter on “Woman’s Song of Man” ought also to have a companion sequel in the book of Negro symbolism. A chapter on “Workaday Religious Songs” can present only a small portion of those now being sung, but will be representative of the present heritage of the old spirituals. A chapter on the miscellaneous fragments, “hollers,” lines, incoherent and expressive “Lawdy-Lawd-Lawds” gives one of the best pictures of the Negro workaday character and habits. Some of these types make a very good safety valve for the Negro singer; in a different way their plainness may restrain the enthusiast from setting too much “store” by all the Negro’s songs. The characters of John Henry and[11] Left Wing represent two types, one the mythical and heroic, the other the real and commonplace, both typical of the Negro’s idealism and his actual life. The examples of “movement and imagery” are as characteristic of the Negro workaday experience as were the harmonies and swaying of the old spirituals. They are indices to guide judgment and interpretation of the Negro temperament. In each of these chapters, it will be understood, only enough material is presented to illustrate the case, including, however, always the most representative specimens which the authors have been able to collect within their field and time limit. Much that is similar will necessarily await publication in volumes in which the chief objective will be preservation and completeness rather than interpretation. Many pictures of the workaday Negro are presented in this volume through the medium of his songs. They are silhouetted, as it were, at first against a complex background of Negro life and experience. The pictures are vivid, concrete, distinct, often complete. But most of all, perhaps, they have been moving pictures. From the first glimpse of the Negro singer with his “feet’s gone to rollin’ jes’ lak a wheel,” to the last great scene of John Henry dying with the “hammer in his hand,” there is marvelous movement alongside rare imagery. Sometimes rhythm and rhyme, but always movement, have dominated the Negro’s chief characterizations. And this movement in the workaday songs is as much a distinctive feature as were the swaying bodies, the soothing rhythm, and swelling harmony of the old spirituals. Picture the Negro workingman in his song and story life and you picture him on the move. It is scarcely possible to describe this element of movement in the Negro workaday songs. And yet[12] the mere citation and classification of representative examples will suffice to point out the particular qualities of action which might justify the added element of epic style, if one remembers that the singer’s concept of the heroic, while very real, is not exalted in the Greek sense. There are those who do not feel that the Negro’s workaday songs are characterized by the qualities of poetry; yet do they not arouse the feelings and imagination in vivid and colorful language? The type of language used—that is the Negro’s own. In the same way there can be no doubt of his songs emphasizing the quality of action; his heroes and principal figures, like his language, reflect his concepts and tell his stories. Whether epic or heroic, I’m the hot stuff man, From the devil’s land, I’m a greasy streak o’ lightning, Don’t you see, don’t you see? has plenty of action and imagery in it. And it is characteristic of much of the Negro workaday style of talk, imagination, and thought. Many of the pictures are vivid because of the action concept and the rhyming metaphors. In come a nigger named Slippery Jim, None of de gals would dance wid him, He rech in his pocket an’ drew his thirty-two, Dem niggers didn’t run, good Gawd, dey flew. There was also a woman, one Eliza Stone, from a bad, bad land, who threatened to break up the jamboree with her razor but who also “jumped in de flo’, an’ doubled up her fist, say ‘You wanter test yo’ nerve jes’ jump against this.’” Note further a varying reel of moving characters and scenes. [13] Police got into auto An’ started to chase that coon, They run ’im from six in the mo’nin’, Till seven that afternoon. The coon he run so bloomin’ fas’ Till fire come from his heels, He scorched the cotton an’ burnt the corn, An’ cut a road through farmers’ fiel’s. The continuous search after the workaday folk song will always provide one of the most important guides to the “discovery” of the Negro. The task of finding and recording accurately the folk expression is a difficult one under most circumstances. Under certain circumstances it is an easy task, and always an interesting one. If we keep a record of efforts, taken at random, as experimental endeavor, in a cross country visit through North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia, about ten per cent, at best, of the requests for songs will be successful. There are other times, when setting and procedure are worked out well, when almost one hundred per cent success would be attained. In most instances the Negro is at his “best” when being urged to coöperate in the rendering of his folk songs. By his “best” is meant that he reveals a striking nature and strong personality, whether in affirming stoutly that he knows no songs now or that he has forgotten what he used to know. He protests vigorously that he does not sing well enough, that he cannot say the words of songs unless he can sing, that he cannot sing unless others are singing, that he has to be in the spirit of the song, or that he will get some songs together and bring them in, or that he will bring a quartet or a pal. Rarely ever does he “produce” if let alone with only a first approach. Nor can he be blamed. He is entirely within his own self-protecting domain, so that his attitude may be put[14] down, not only as a characteristic one but also as a commendable one. He has his own fun, too, in the situation. In general there are several types from which little success may be expected. The more educated and sophisticated Negro not only does not as a rule coöperate, but looks with considerable condescension upon those who seek his help. There are many who believe that all songs desired are for immediate transcription to printed music or phonograph record. These are of little assistance. Others feel that some hidden motive is back of the request. Still others for various reasons do not coöperate. Nor will the Negro student or musician himself find ready coöperation among his common folk who feel constrained to withhold their folk art from the learned of their own race. Perhaps the most striking observation that comes from the whole experience is the seemingly inexhaustible supply of songs among the workaday Negroes of the South. We have yet to find a “bottom” or a limit in the work songs among the crowds of working men in one community. Just as often as there is opportunity to hear a group of Negroes singing at work, just so often have we found new songs and new fragments. There is so far no exception to this rule. Likewise we have yet to find an individual, whose efforts have been freely set forth in the offering of song, whose supply of songs has been exhausted. Time and time again the approach has been made, with the response, “Naw, sir, cap’n, I don’t know no songs much,” with an ultimate result of song after song, seemingly with no limit. Partly the singer is honest; he does not at the time, think of many songs nor does he consider himself a good singer; but when he turns himself “loose” his capacity for memory and singing is astonishing. [15] The same general rule with reference to dialect is used in this volume as was the case in The Negro and His Songs.[4] There can be no consistency, except the consistency of recording the words as nearly as possible as rendered. Words may occur in two or three variations in a single stanza and sometimes in a single line. The attempt to make formal dialect out of natural speech renders the product artificial and less artistic. We have therefore followed the general practice of keeping the dialect as simple as possible. Dialect, after all, is a relative matter. It is the sort of speech which is not used in one’s own section of the country. As a matter of fact, much of what has passed as Negro dialect is good white Southern usage, and there is nothing to justify the attempt to set aside certain pronunciations as peculiar to the Negro simply because a Negro is being quoted. Consequently we have refrained from the use of dialect in all cases where the Negro pronunciation and the usual white pronunciation are the same or practically the same. If the reader will grasp the basic points of difference between Negro and white speech and will then keep in mind the principle of economy, he will have no difficulty in following the peculiarities of dialect. [4]The Negro and His Songs, pp. 9-11, 293-94. There is a good discussion of dialect in James Weldon Johnson’s Book of American Negro Spirituals, pp. 42-46. The principle of economy will be found to operate at high efficiency in Negro speech. It will nearly always explain the apparent inconsistencies in dialect. For example, the Negro often says ’bout and ’roun’ for about and around. But he might vary these to about, aroun’, ’round, and around in a single song, depending upon the preceding and succeeding sounds. He would say, “I’ll go ’bout two o’clock,” but he[16] also would say, “I went about two o’clock,” because in the former case it is easier to say ’bout than about, while in the latter the reverse is true. Rhythm is also related to dialect. In ordinary speech most Negroes would say broke for broken, but if the rhythm in singing called for a two-syllable sound they would say broken rather than broke. Very few of the popular songs which we heard twenty years ago are found now in the same localities. The places that knew them will know them no more. The same disappearing process is going on now, only more rapidly than formerly because of the multitude of blues, jazz songs, and others being distributed throughout the land in millions of phonographic records. One of the first tasks of this volume is, therefore, to take cognizance of these formal blues, both in their relation to the workaday native creations and as an important segment of the Negro’s music and his contribution to the American scene. In the next chapter we shall proceed, therefore, to discuss the blues. [17] CHAPTER II THE BLUES: WORKADAY SORROW SONGS No story of the workaday song life of the Negro can proceed far without taking into account the kind of song known as the blues, for, next to the spirituals, the blues are probably the Negro’s most distinctive contribution to American art. They have not been taken seriously, because they have never been thoroughly understood. Their history needs to be written. The present chapter is not a complete statement. It merely presents some of the salient points in the story of the blues and offers some suggestions as to their rôle in Negro life. Behind the popular blues songs of today lie the more spontaneous and naïve songs of the uncultured Negro. Long before the blues were formally introduced to the public, the Negro was creating them by expressing his gloomy moods in song. To be sure, the present use of the term “blues” to designate a particular kind of popular song is of recent origin, but the use of the term in Negro song goes much further back, and the blue or melancholy type of Negro secular song is as old as the spirituals themselves. The following song might be taken at first glance for one of the 1926 popular “hits,” but it dates back to the time of the Civil War.[5] [5]Allen, Ware, and Garrison, Slave Songs of the United States, p. 89. This note is appended: “A very good specimen ... of the strange barbaric songs that one hears upon the Western steamboats.” I’m gwine to Alabamy,—Oh, For to see my mammy,—Ah. [18] She went from ole Virginny,—Oh, And I’m her pickaniny,—Ah. She lives on the Tombigbee,—Oh, I wish I had her wid me,—Ah. Now I’m a good big nigger,—Oh, I reckon I won’t git bigger,—Ah. But I’d like to see my mammy,—Oh, Who lives in Alabamy,—Ah. Very few of the Negro’s ante-bellum secular songs have been preserved, but there is every reason to suppose that he had numerous melancholy songs aside from the spirituals. At any rate, the earliest authentic secular collections abound in the kind of songs which have come to be known as the blues. The following expressions are typical of the early blues. They are taken from songs collected in Georgia and Mississippi between 1905 and 1908, and they were doubtless common property among the Negroes of the lower class long before that.[6] [6]This collection was published by Howard W. Odum in the Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 24, pp. 255-94; 351-96. Went to the sea, sea look so wide, Thought about my babe, hung my head an’ cried. O my babe, won’t you come home? I got the blues, but too damn mean to cry, Oh, I got the blues, but I’m too damn mean to cry. Got nowhar to lay my weary head, O my babe, got nowhar to lay my weary head. I’m po’ boy long way from home, Oh, I’m po’ boy long way from home. Ever since I left dat country farm, Ev’ybody been down on me. [19] Here are blues in the making. This is the stuff that the first published blues were made of, and some of it sounds strikingly like certain of the latest blues records issued by the phonograph companies. About 1910 the first published blues appeared, and since that time they have been exploited in every imaginable form by music publishers and phonograph companies.[7] The inter-relations between the formal blues and the native blues will be discussed later. At present it is necessary to take up certain questions concerning the nature of the blues. [7]W. C. Handy is credited with having published the first blues (Memphis Blues, 1910) and with having had much to do with their popularization. He is still writing songs. His works include Memphis Blues, St. Louis Blues, Beale St. Blues, Joe Turner Blues, Yellow Dog Blues, Aunt Hagar’s Blues, and others. What are the characteristics of the native blues, in so far as they can be spoken of as a type of song apart from other Negro songs? The original blues were so fragmentary and elusive—they were really little more than states of mind expressed in song—that it is difficult to characterize them definitely. The following points, then, are merely suggestive. In the first place, blues are characterized by a tone of plaintiveness. Both words and music give the impression of loneliness and melancholy. In fact, it was this quality, combined with the Negro’s peculiar use of the word “blues,” which gave the songs their name. In the second place, the theme of most blues is that of the love relation between man and woman. There are many blues built around homesickness and hard luck in general, but the love theme is the principal one. Sometimes the dominant note is the complaint of the lover: [20] Goin’ ’way to leave you, ain’t comin’ back no mo’, You treated me so dirty, ain’t comin’ back no mo’.[8] Where was you las’ Sattaday night, When I lay sick in bed? You down town wid some other ol’ girl, Wusn’t here to hol’ my head.[9] Sometimes it is a note of longing: I hate to hear my honey call my name, Call me so lonesome and so sad.[10] I believe my woman’s on that train, O babe, I believe my woman’s on that train.[11] At other times the dominant note is one of disappointment: I thought I had a friend was true; Done found out friends won’t do.[12] All I hope in this bright worl’, If I love anybody, don’t let it be a girl.[13]  [8]The Negro and His Songs, p. 184.  [9]Ibid., p. 185. [10]Ibid., p. 224. [11]Ibid., p. 222. [12]Ibid., p. 250. [13]Ibid., p. 181. A third characteristic of the blues is the expression of self pity.[14] Often this is the outstanding feature of the song. There seems to be a tendency for the despondent or blue singer to use the technique of the martyr to draw from others a reaction of sympathy. Psychologically speaking, the technique consists of rationalization, by which process the singer not only excuses his shortcomings, but attracts the attention and sympathy of others—in imagination, at least—to[21] his hard lot. The following expressions will make the point clear.[15] [14]For a discussion of this subject, see Lomax, “Self-pity in Negro Folk Song,” Nation, vol. 105, pp. 141-45. [15]Illustrations are taken from The Negro and His Songs unless otherwise indicated. Bad luck in de family, sho’ God, fell on me, Good ol’ boy, jus’ ain’t treated right. Poor ol’ boy, long ways from home, I’m out in dis wide worl’ alone. Out in dis wide worl’ to roam, Ain’t got no place to call my home. Now my mama’s dead and my sweet ol’ popper too, An’ I ain’t got no one fer to carry my troubles to. If I wus to die, little girl, so far away from home, The folks, honey, for miles around would mourn. Now it is apparent to any one familiar with the folk songs of various peoples that the blues type, as it has been described above, is not peculiar to the Negro, but is more or less common to all races and peoples. So far as subject matter and emotional expression are concerned, the lonesome songs of the Kentucky mountaineer, of the cowboy, of the sailor, or of any other group, are representative of the blues type. If this be so, then why was it that the Negro’s song alone became the basis for a nationally popular type of song? The answer to this question is, of course, far from simple. For one thing, the whole matter of the Negro’s cultural position in relation to the white man is involved. The Negro’s reputation for humor and good singing is also important. Perhaps, too, the psychology of fads would have to be considered. But, speaking in terms of the qualities of the songs themselves, what is there about them to account for the superior status enjoyed by the Negro’s melancholy songs? [22] To begin with, the Negro’s peculiar use of the word “blues” in his songs was a circumstance of no mean importance. Much more significant, however, was the music of the blues. The blues originated, of course, with Negroes who had access to few instruments other than the banjo and the guitar. But such music as they brought forth from these instruments to accompany their blues was suited to the indigo mood. It was syncopated, it was full of bizarre harmonies, sudden changes of key and plaintive slurs. It was something new to white America, and it needed only an introduction to insure its success. But there is still another feature of the blues which is probably responsible more than any other one thing for their appeal and fascination, and that is their lack of conventionality, their naïveté of expression. The Negro wastes no time in roundabout or stilted modes of speech. His tale is brief, his metaphor striking, his imagery perfect, his humor plaintive. Expressions like the following have made the blues famous. Looked down the road jus’ far as I could see, Well, the band did play “Nearer, My God to Thee.” Well, I started to leave an’ I got ’way down the track; Got to thinkin’ ’bout my woman, come a-runnin’ back. Wish to God some ol’ train would run, Carry me back where I came frum. I laid in jail, back to the wall: Brown skin gal cause of it all.[16] [16]See Perrow, “Songs and Rhymes from the South,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 28, p. 190. When the first published blues appeared, the problem for the student of Negro song began to become complicated. It is no longer possible to speak with certainty of the folk blues, so entangled are the relations[23] between them and the formal compositions. This inter-relation is itself of such interest and importance that it demands the careful attention of students of folk song. Only a few points can be touched upon in the present work, but an attempt will be made at least to indicate some of the ramifications of the subject. There is no doubt that the first songs appearing in print under the name of blues were based directly upon actual songs already current among Negroes.[17] Soon after Handy began to issue his blues, white people as well as Negroes were singing them heartily. But a song was never sung long in its original version alone. The half-dozen stanzas of the original often grew to a hundred or more, for many singers took pride in creating new stanzas or adapting parts of other songs to the new one. Sometimes publishers would issue second and third editions, incorporating in them the best of the stanzas which had sprung up since the preceding edition. Thus, even before the phonograph became the popular instrument that it is today, the interplay between folk creations and formal compositions had become extremely complex. [17]See James Weldon Johnson, The Book of American Negro Poetry, pp. x-xiv; and Dorothy Scarborough, On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs, pp. 269-70. In the last ten years the phonograph record has surpassed sheet music as a conveyor of blues to the public. Sheet music, however, is still important. In fact, practically every “hit” is issued in both the published and phonographed form. But the phonograph record obviously has certain advantages, and it is largely responsible for the present popularity of the blues. Most of the large phonograph companies now maintain special departments devoted to the recording[24] of “race blues.” They employ Negro artists, many of whom have already earned national reputations, and they advertise extensively, especially in the Negro press. In spite of the extremes to which exploitation of the blues has gone in recent years, there is often an authentic folk element to be found in the present-day formal productions. Some of the phonograph artists are encouraged by their employers to sing blues of their own making. When the artist has had an intimate acquaintance with the life of his race and has grown up among the blues, so to speak, he is often able to produce a song which preserves faithfully the spirit of the folk blues. The folk productions of yesterday are likely to be found, albeit sometimes in versions scarcely recognizable, on the phonograph records of today. That this is the case is indicated by the following comparison of a few of the lines and titles of songs collected twenty years ago with lines and titles of recent popular blues songs. Lines and Titles of Songs Collected Twenty Years Ago[18] Lines and Titles of Recent Popular Blues Laid in jail, back to the wall. Thirty days in jail with my back turned to the wall. Jailer, won’t you put ’nother man in my stall? Look here, mister jailer, put another gal in my stall. Baby, won’t you please come home? Baby, won’t you please come home? Wonder where my baby stay las’ night? Where did you stay last night? I got my all-night trick, baby, and you can’t git in. I’m busy and you can’t come in. I’ll see her when her trouble’s like mine.[25] I’m gonna see you when your troubles are just like mine. Satisfied. I’m satisfied. You may go, but this will bring you back. I got what it takes to bring you back. Joe Turner Joe Turner blues. Love, Kelly’s love. Love, careless love. I’m on my las’ go-’round. Last go-’round blues. [18]See Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 24; also The Negro and His Songs. When a blues record is issued it quickly becomes the property of a million Negro workers and adventurers who never bought it and perhaps never heard it played. Sometimes they do not even know that the song is from a record. They may recognize in it parts of songs long familiar to them and think that it is just another piece which some songster has put together. Their desire to invent a different version, their skill at adapting stanzas of old favorites to the new music, and sometimes their misunderstanding of the words of the new song, result in the transformation of the song into many local variants. In other words, the folk creative process operates upon a song, the origin of which may already be mixed, and produces in turn variations that may later become the bases of other formal blues. A thorough exposition of this process would take us far beyond the limits of this volume, but the following instances are cited to illustrate generally the interplay between the folk blues and the formal blues. Here is a specimen captured from a Negro girl in Georgia who had just returned from a trip to “Troit,” Michigan. When you see me comin’ Throw yo’ woman out de do’, [26] For you know I’s no stranger, For I’s been dere once befo’. He wrote me a letter, Nothin’ in it but a note. I set down an’ writ him, “I ain’t no billy goat.” Standin’ on de platform, Worried in both heart an’ soul; An’ befo’ I’d take yo’ man I’d eat grass like a Georgia mule. I love my man Lak I love myse’f. If he don’t have me He won’t have nobody else. Now this song is a mixture of several popular blues. The first stanza is from the House Rent Blues, and is sung practically the same as on the phonograph record. The second stanza is from the Salt Water Blues and is like the original except for the repetition in the original of the first two lines. The third stanza is also from the Salt Water Blues, but it is a combination and variation of two stanzas which go as follows: Sittin’ on the curbstone, Worried in both heart an’ soul; Lower than a ’possum Hidin’ in a ground-hog hole. I wrote my man, “I ain’t nobody’s fool; An’ befo’ I’d stand your talkin’ I’d eat grass like a Georgia mule.” This girl does not worry over the lack of consistent meaning in the third stanza of her song. Furthermore, as far as she is concerned, “soul” and “mule” rhyme about as well as “fool” and “mule.” The fourth[27] stanza of her song, finally, is taken from Any Woman’s Blues, there having been, however, a slight variation in the second line. The original is: I love my man Better than I love myself; An’ if he don’t have me, He won’t have nobody else. Thus in a single song we have examples of the processes of borrowing, combining, changing, and misunderstanding through which formal material often goes when it gets into the hands of the common folk. The composite of four stanzas presented above has no very clear meaning in its present form, but at that it is about as coherent as any of the blues from which it was assembled. Left Wing Gordon, whose story is told in Chapter XII, is a good study in the relation of folk song and formal blues. Left Wing’s repertoire is practically unlimited, for he appears to have remembered everything that he has ever heard. One of his favorite expressions is You don’t know my mind, You don’t know my mind; When you see my laughin’, I’m laughin’ to keep from cryin’. This comes from You Don’t Know My Mind Blues, a popular sheet music and phonograph piece today. Left Wing sings dozens of stanzas, some evidently from the published versions, some of his own making, ending each one with “You don’t know my mind,” etc. Nearly all of his songs showed this sort of mixture of formal and folk material. As an example of the misunderstanding, deliberate twisting of the words of a phonograph blues, or lapse[28] of memory, the following instance may be cited. In the Chain Gang Blues this stanza occurs. Judge he gave me six months ’Cause I wouldn’t go to work. From sunrise to sunset I ain’t got no time to shirk. A Southern Negro on a chain gang recently sang it thus: Judge he give me sentence ’Cause I wouldn’t go to work. From sunrise to sunset I don’t have no other clean shirt. Examples of this kind might be multiplied indefinitely, but these will suffice. In the notes on the songs in the various chapters of this book will be found comments bearing upon the relation of formal blues and folk songs. Thus it is clear that in many cases there is a complex inter-relation and interaction between the folk song and the formal production. But the tendency has been on the whole for the latter to get further and further away from folk sources. Few authors now attempt to do more than imitate certain features of the old-time blues. In order to understand more clearly the present situation, it is necessary to consider for a moment the blues as they are manufactured today. There are at least three large phonograph companies which give special attention to Negro songs. They will be designated herein as “A,” “B,” and “C.” The following table, compiled from data obtained from the general “race record” catalogs of these three companies, gives an idea of the importance of the blues. [29] Brand of Record Total No. of Titles in Catalog No. Religious and Classical Titles No. Secular Titles Titles Containing Word “Blues” Number Percentage of Secular Songs “A” 592 34[19] 558 263 43 “B” 430 90[20] 340 154 40 “C” 298 44[19] 254 108 42 [19]No classical titles listed. [20]Includes 28 classical titles. In this table only those titles including the word “blues” have been counted as blues. If the term were expanded to include all songs which are now popularly known as blues, it would be found that upwards of seventy-five per cent of the total number of secular songs listed in the catalogs would fall in this class. The “A” catalog bears the title, “A” Race Records—The Blue Book of Blues; the “B” catalog follows titles like Oh, Daddy, Brown Baby, Long Lost Mama, etc., with the explanation, “blues song” or “blues record”; and the “C” catalog bears the title, “C” Race Records—The Latest Blues by “C” Colored Artists. Certainly the popular notion among both whites and Negroes now is that practically every Negro song which is not classed as a spiritual is a blues. The term is now freely applied to instrumental pieces, especially to dance music of the jazz type, and to every vocal piece which, by any stretch of the imagination, can be thought of as having a bluish cast. A survey of the titles in the three catalogs mentioned above yields some interesting data concerning the nature of the formal blues. For one thing, there are sixty or seventy titles of the place or locality type. Southern states and cities figure prominently in this[30] kind of blues, although the popularity of Northern localities is on the increase. The favorite states are Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, and Virginia. The chief titles for these states are as follows: Alabama Alabama Blues Birmingham Blues Mobile Blues Selma Bama Blues Bama Bound Blues Georgia Atlanta Blues Decatur Blues Georgia Hunch Georgia Blues Louisiana Lake Pontchartrain Blues Lou’siana Low-down Blues New Orleans Hop Scop Blues New Orleans Wiggle Shreveport Blues Mississippi Mississippi Blues Ole Miss Blues Mississippi Delta Blues Texas Dallas Blues Houston Blues Red River Blues Waco Texas Blues Seawall Special Blues Virginia Virginia Blues Hampton Roads Blues Norfolk Blues There are also, to name only a few others, Arkansas Blues, Florida Blues, California Blues, Carolina Blues, Omaha Blues, Michigan Water Blues, Memphis Blues, Tulsa Blues, St. Louis Blues, Salt Lake City Blues, Wabash Blues, and Blue Grass Blues. Finally there are foreign titles, such as London Blues and West Indies Blues. Titles, of course, are not to be taken as accurate indices of the contents of the songs. As a matter of fact, most of the songs bearing titles of the locality type really deal with the relation of man and woman. Another feature of the formal blues is their tendency to specialize in certain slang expressions. “Sweet[31] mama,” “sweet papa,” “daddy,” “jelly roll,” and a few other expressions have been thoroughly popularized among certain classes, white and Negro, by the blues songs. By actual count, titles containing one or more of the words, “mama,” “daddy,” “papa,” “baby,” constitute twenty-five per cent of the total number of secular titles in the catalogs referred to above. It is to be expected that a very large proportion of these present-day blues (using the term now in the broad sense as it is popularly used) deals with the relation of man and woman. In fact, if the locality types, most of which are based on the love relation, and the “mama-papa” type were eliminated from the count, there would be a mere handful left. The following titles will give some impression of the nature of the songs which deal with the man-woman relation.[21] [21]Any one who is acquainted with the slang and vulgarity of the lower class Negro will suspect immediately that there are often double meanings in titles like those listed here. Such is the case. Negro songs writers and phonograph artists usually have had intimate acquaintance with Negro life in all of its forms, and they have doubtless come across many a song which was too vulgar to be put into print, but which had certain appealing qualities. Often a melody was too striking to be allowed to escape, so the writer fitted legitimate verses to it and, if it was at all possible, preserved the original title. Thus it comes about that many of the popular Negro songs of today—and white songs, too, as for that—have titles that are extremely suggestive, and are saved only by their perfectly innocuous verses. The suggestiveness of the titles may also be one explanation of why these songs have such a tremendous appeal for the common folk, black and white. It may be that in these songs, whitewashed and masked though they be, they recognize old friends. Leave My Sweet Papa Alone I’ve Got a Do-right Daddy Now Mistreated Mama Slow Down, Sweet Papa, Mama’s Catching up With You Sweet Smellin’ Mama Black but Sweet, O God How Do You Expect to Get My Lovin’?[32] He May Be Your Man, but He Comes to See Me Sometimes Changeable Daddy Go Back Where You Stayed Last Night How Can I Be Your Sweet “Mama” When You’re “Daddy” to Some One Else? You Can Have My Man if He Comes to See You Too That Free and Easy Papa of Mine You Can’t Do What My Last Man Did Mistreatin’ Daddy If I Let You Get Away With It Once You’ll Do It All the Time Daddy, You’ve Done Put That Thing on Me I’m Tired of Begging You to Treat Me Right My Man Rocks Me With One Steady Roll Do It a Long Time, Papa No Second Handed Lovin’ for Mine I Want a Jazzy Kiss I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down Beale Street Mama Big Fat Mama Lonesome Mama You’ve Got Everything a Sweet Mama Needs but Me If You Don’t Give Me What I Want I’m Gonna Get It Somewhere Else Mama Don’t Want Sweet Man Any More If You Sheik on Your Mama Mean Papa, Turn in Your Key Take It, Daddy, It’s All Yours How Long, Sweet Daddy, How Long? You Can Take My Man but You Can’t Keep Him Long Can Anybody Take Sweet Mama’s Place?[33] You Don’t Know My Mind Baby, Won’t You Please Come Home? Then there are innumerable miscellaneous titles and sentiments. One may have the Poor Man Blues, Red Hot Blues, Through Train Blues, Railroad Blues, Crazy Blues, Stranger Blues, Don’t Care Blues, Goin’ ’Way Blues, Bleedin’ Hearted Blues, Cryin’ Blues, Salt Water Blues, Mountain Top Blues, Thunderstorm Blues, Sinful Blues, Basement Blues, House Rent Blues, Reckless Blues, and even the A to Z Blues. Here again however, titles are misleading, for practically all songs bearing such titles really deal with the man-woman theme. It may be worth mentioning that the majority of these formal blues are sung from the point of view of woman. A survey of titles in the “A,” “B,” and “C” catalogs shows that upwards of seventy-five per cent of the songs are written from the woman’s point of view. Among the blues singers who have gained a more or less national recognition there is scarcely a man’s name to be found. It is doubtful whether the history of song affords a parallel to the American situation with regard to the blues. Here we have the phenomenon of a type of folk song becoming a great fad and being exploited in every conceivable form; of hundreds of blues, some of which are based directly upon folk productions, being distributed literally by the million among the American people; and the Negro’s assimilation of these blues into his everyday song life. What the effects of these processes are going to be, one can only surmise. One thing is certain, however, and that is that the student of Negro song tomorrow will have to know what was[34] on the phonograph records of today before he may dare to speak of origins. Whether the formal blues have come to stay or not, it is impossible to tell at present. Possibly they will undergo considerable modification as the public becomes satiated and the Negro takes on more and more of the refinements of civilization. That their present form, however, is acceptable to a large section of Negro America is indicated by the fact that the combined sales of “A,” “B,” and “C” blues records alone amount to five or six millions annually. The folk blues will also undergo modification, but they will always reflect Negro life in its lower strata much more accurately than the formal blues can. For it must be remembered that these folk blues were the Negro’s melancholy song long before the phonograph was invented. Yet the formal songs are important. In their own way they are vastly superior to the cruder folk productions, since they have all of the advantages of the artificial over the natural. They may replace some of the simpler songs and thus dull the creative impulse of the common Negro folk to some extent, but there is every reason to suppose that there will be real folk blues as long as there are Negro toilers and adventurers whose naïveté has not been worn off by what the white man calls culture. The plaintiveness of the blues will be encountered in most of the songs of this volume. It is present because most of the songs were collected from the class of Negro folk who are most likely to create blues. In the next chapter certain general songs of the blues type have been brought together but the note of lonesomeness and melancholy will be struck in the songs of the other chapters as well, especially in those dealing with jail and chain gang, construction camp, and the relation of man and woman. [35] CHAPTER III SONGS OF THE LONESOME ROAD The blues par excellence are, of course, to be found in those songs of sorrow and disappointment and longing which center around the love relation.[22] But the song of the “po’ boy long ways from home” who wanders “down that lonesome road” is rich in pathos and plaintiveness. The wanderer is not unlike the old singer who sang, Sometimes I hangs my head an’ cries I’m po’ little orphan chile in de worl’ Sometimes I feel like a motherless chile Nobody knows de trouble I’ve had This ol’ worl’s been a hell to me I’m rollin’ through an unfriendly worl’ [22]See Chapters VII and VIII for the songs of this type. This chapter deals with more general lonesome songs. Typical of the lonesome note in the present-day songs of the wanderer are the following lines: I’m gonna tell my mama when I git home How people treated me way off from home Freezin’ ground wus my foldin’ bed las’ night Got up in the mornin’, couldn’t keep from cryin’ My shoes all wore out My clothes done tore to pieces Trouble gonna follow me to my grave Bad luck in family, sho’ God, fell on me Ain’t got nuthin’ to eat Sick all night on de street I been mistreated all my days[36] Po’ boy got nowhere to lay his head Well, rock was my pillah las’ night Clothes all wet, feet on the ground Po’ boy, dey don’t give me no show Law’, I’m so worried I don’t know what to do I’m gonna ketch dat train, don’t know where it’s from The workhouse settin’ ’way out on lonesome road Always wanderin’ about Nowhere to lay my head Dis po’ man’s life is misery Pocketbook was empty, my heart was full of pain In the “Annals and Blues of Left Wing Gordon”[23] will be found something of the story of one representative of all those black folk who sing down the lonesome road. Left Wing had traveled the lonesome road in at least thirty-eight states of the union. His type is legion. Here is another whose parents died before he was eight years of age. Thence to Texas, and Louisiana, across Mississippi to Georgia, then down to Florida, back through South Carolina to his home state, North Carolina. Abiding there shortly, thence to Maryland and Washington, to St. Louis, thence to Ohio, thence to New York, back to Philadelphia, across again to Ohio, then the war and camp, and armistice and more travels, with periods of “doing time.” Then back again to the lonesome road. [23]See Chapter XII. Nowhere is self-pity in the plaintive song better expressed than in the forlorn Negro’s vision of himself, the last actor in the wanderer drama, folks mourning his death, hacks in line, funeral well provided for.[37] Sometimes reflecting on his hard life, he pictures his own funeral! Look down po’ lonesome road, Hacks all dead in line; Some give nickel, some give a dime, To bury dis po’ body o’ mine. Perhaps he will jump into the sea or off the mountain or lay his head on a railroad track. Then folks will miss him and mourn his tragic end. He feels that he has more than his share of trouble and hard luck. Sometimes he sings that he cannot keep from crying: I can’t keep from cryin’ Look down dat lonesome road an’ cry You made me weep, you made me moan Woke up in de mornin’, couldn’t keep from cryin’ I got de blues an’ can’t keep from cryin’ The following songs show this note of hard luck, weeping, and self-pity: Ship My Po’ Body Home If I should die long way from home Ship my po’ body home. Ax fer a nickel, ax fer a dime, Ax fer a quarter, ship my po’ body home, Lawd, ship my po’ body home. Ain’t got no money, Ain’t got nothin’ to eat, Sick all night on de street; If I die long way from home Ship my po’ body home. [38] Pity Po’ Boy Pity a po’ boy Stray ’way from home, Pity a po’ boy Stray ’way from home. If I ever gits back, I sho’ never mo’ to roam; If I ever gits back, I sho’ never mo’ to roam. I Rather Be in My Grave I lef’ my rider standin’ in back do’ cryin’, “Lawd, please don’t leave me behin’.” You mistreat me, you drove me from yo’ do’, Good book say you got to reap what you sow. I’m goin’ ’way, Lawd, I’m goin’ ’way, I ain’t comin’ back, Lawd, at all. If my mind don’t change, Lawd, If my mind don’t change, I ain’t comin’ back. Woke up this mornin’, blues all around my bed, Snatch up my pillow, blues all under my head. I’m feelin’ blue, mama, feel blue you know, I feel blue all day long. Lawd, I’m worried now, Lawd, But I won’t be worried long. I feel like train, mama, Ain’t got no drivin’ wheel. I rather be daid in six foot o’ clay, I rather be in my grave. Throw Myself Down in de Sea Goin’ up on mountain top, Lord, goin’ up on mountain top, O Lord, goin’ up on mountain top, Throw myself down in de sea. [39] Throw myself down in sea, O Lord, throw myself down in sea; Goin’ up on mountain top, Throw myself down in sea. Po’ Nigger Got Nowhere to Go Po’ nigger got nowhere to go, Po’ nigger got nowhere to go, Po’ nigger got nowhere to go, Nothin’ but dirt all over de flo’. Clothes am dirty rags, Clothes am dirty rags, Clothes am dirty rags, Stuff in dirty bags. Beds am ragged an’ ol’, Beds am ragged an’ ol’, Beds am ragged an’ ol’, No money to buy no mo’. I Wish I Was Dead Over de hill is de po’ house, Please don’t let me go. A place to sleep, somethin’ to eat, I don’t ast no mo’, I don’t ast no mo’. My clothes am done tore to pieces, My shoes am all wo’ out; Got nobody to do my patchin’, Always wanderin’ about, Always wanderin’ about. Ain’t got nobody to love me, Nowhere to lay my head. Dis po’ man’s life am a misery, Lawd, Lawd, how I wish I was dead, Lawd, Lawd, how I wish I was dead. [40] Trouble All My Days[24] Trouble, trouble, Been had it all my days. Trouble, trouble, Got to mend dis nigger’s ways. Trouble, trouble, I believe to my soul Trouble gonna kill me dead. Trouble, trouble. But I’s gwine away, To rid trouble off my min’. But I’s gwine away, To rid trouble off my min’. Fair brown, fair brown, Who may yo’ regular be? If you got no regular, Please take a peep at me. Trouble, trouble, Been had it all my day; Believe to my soul Trouble gonna kill me dead. Say, look here, man, See what you done done; You done made me love you, Now you tryin’ to dog me ’roun’. [24]This song is very much like a popular phonograph record, Downhearted Blues. Cf. also Trouble, Trouble Blues. I Can’t Keep From Cryin’[25] I received a letter that my daddy was dead, He wasn’t dead but he was slowly dyin’. Just to think how I love him, I can’t keep from cryin’. I followed my daddy to the buryin’ ground, I saw the pall-bearer slowly ease him down. That was the last time I saw my daddy’s face.[41] I love you, sweet daddy, but I just can’t take your place. [25]A somewhat condensed version of a phonograph song, Death Letter Blues. Po’ Little Girl Grievin’ Po’ little girl grievin’, Po’ little girl grievin’, Lawdy, Lawdy, po’ little girl grievin’, Po’ little girl grievin’. Little girl wid head hung down, Little girl wid head hung down, Lawdy, Lawdy, little girl wid head hung down, I’m sorry for little girl wid head hung down. Sorry yo’ man, Sorry yo’ man, Lawdy, Lawdy, sorry Yo’ man done left you. Standin’ at station weepin’, Standin’ at station weepin’, Lawd, standin’ at station weepin’ ’Cause her man done gone. Don’t treat me lak used to, Don’t treat me lak used to, Lawd, girl don’t treat me lak used to, Don’t treat me lak used to. Lawd, I don’t know why, Lawd, I don’t know why, Lawdy, Lawdy, I don’t know why, Don’t treat me lak used to. It won’t be long, It won’t be long, Lawdy, Lawd, it won’t be long, Lawd, it won’t be long. The old line, “po’ boy ’long way from home,” is still a favorite. In the Negro’s songs and stories of wanderings, home and father and mother are themes of constant appeal, apparently much in contrast to the[42] Negro’s actual home-abiding experiences. The old spirituals sang mostly of the heavenly home of dreams and ideals as opposed to the experience in which “this ol’ world been a hell to me.” In his wanderer song of today the Negro’s wish-dream to be back home appears an equally striking contrast. Nowhere in the workaday songs is childlike and wishful yearning so marked as in these constant songs of homesickness and of the desire for something that is not. Always accompanying the singer’s dreams of home is his contrasting forlorn condition in the present hour. It would be difficult to find better description of situations than that in which he pictures himself as tired and forsaken on the lonesome road. Parts of this picture may be gathered from the following lines taken here and there from his songs: Take, oh, take me, take me back home My sister’s cryin’ back home If I die long way from home My home ain’t here an’ I ain’t got to stay O Lord, captain, won’t you let me go home Daddy sick, mammy dead, Goin’ back South, dat’s where I’m bound. Every mail day I gits letter from my mother, Sayin’, “Son, son, come home.” I’m one hundred miles from home An’ I can’t go home this way. I didn’t have no ready-made money, I couldn’t go home. A place to sleep, something to eat, I don’t ast no mo’. Look down dat lonesome road an’ cry [43] A variety of songs of home or home-folk, of surcease from work, will be found wherever Negroes sing. This fact is recognized by the publishers of blues when they advertise, “These blues will make every Negro want to hurry back home.” The plaintive longing for home, alongside expressions of weeping and self-pity, is the theme of most of the following songs of the road: I’m Goin’ Home, Buddie All ’round the mountain, Buddie, So chilly and cold, Buddie, So chilly and cold, Buddie, But I’m goin’ home, Buddie, I’m goin’ home. Take this hammer, Buddie, Carry it to the boss, Buddie, Carry it to the boss, Buddie, Tell him I gone home, Buddie, I gone home. I got a wife, Buddie, With two little children, Buddie, With two little children, Buddie, Tell ’em I’m comin’ home, Buddie, I’m comin’ home. That Ol’ Letter That ol’ letter, Read about dyin’; Boy, did you ever, Think about dyin’? Then I can’t read it Now for cryin’, Tears run down, Lawd, Lawd, tears run down. Po’ Homeless Boy In de evenin’ de sun am low, In de evenin’ de sun am low, In de evenin’ de sun am low, [44] Dis po’ homeless boy got nowhere to go, Dis po’ homeless boy got nowhere to go, Nowhere to go. Daddy sick, mammy daid, Daddy sick, mammy daid, Po’ boy got nowhere to lay his haid, Po’ boy got nowhere to lay his haid, Lay his haid. Clothes all wo’, feet on de groun’, Clothes all wo’, feet on de groun’, Goin’ back down South, dat’s where I’s boun’, Goin’ back down South, dat’s where I’s boun’, Where I’s boun’. Home in a two-room shack, Home in a two-room shack, Home in a two-room shack, Cook in de fire, pipe in de crack, Cook in de fire, pipe in de crack, Pipe in de crack. Take Me Back Home Take me, oh, take me, Take me back home. My mammy’s weepin’, daddy’s sleepin’, In de ol’ grave yard. Take me, oh, take me, Take me back home. Please, Mr. Conductor When I left home mother was ill, And she needed the doctor’s care, That’s the reason I came to the city, I’ll pay you my fare next time. Please, Mr. Conductor, Don’t put me off this train. The best friend I have in this world Is waiting for me in pain. [45] Captain, I Wanta Go Home When I call on captain, Lawd, Lawd, He ast me what I need. Captain, captain, I tol’ captain, Lawd, I wanta go back home. He tol’ me, Lawd, why you want to go home, Shine? Say you got to make your time. Captain call me ’bout half pas’ fo’, Captain, Lawd, I wouldn’t go. Want me to go in kitchen, Draw water, make fire. Captain, captain, what make you call me so soon? Poor Shine, Lawd, captain, wish I was home. I went out on road Wid pick and shovel, too. I pick a lick or two, Captain, can’t I go back home? Captain, captain, won’t you take me, Lawd, Lawd, captain, won’t you take me back? My home ain’t here, captain, An’ I ain’t got to stay. O Lawd, captain, captain, Lawd, Won’t you let me go home? Will I Git Back Home? Law’, I do wonder, Law’, I do wonder, Law’, I do wonder, Will I git back home, huh? Will I git back home, huh? Well cuckoo, cuckoo, Keep on hollerin’, An’ mus’ be day, Law’, Mus’ be day. [46] Well whistle, whistle, Keep on blowin’, An’ time ain’t long, Uhuh, time ain’t long. Lawd, Lawd, I’m on My Way Ain’t had nothin’ to eat, Ain’t had nowhere to sleep, Freezin’ ground wus my foldin’ bed, But I’m on my way, O Lawd, I’m on my way. What makes you hold yo’ head so high? Any way you hold yo’ head, That’s way you gonna die, That’s way you gonna die. I sho’ don’t want to go, But I’m goin’ up country Singin’ nothin’ but you; I’m goin’ up country, Singin’ nothin’ but you. Goin’ Down Dat Lonesome Road[26] Goin’ down dat lonesome road, Oh, goin’ down dat lonesome road, An’ I won’t be treated this-a way. Springs on my bed done broken down, An’ I ain’t got nowhere to lay my head. Now my mamma’s dead an’ my papa, too, An’ it left me alone wid you. An’ you cause me to weep an’ you cause me to moan, An’ you cause me to leave my happy home. Longest train I ever saw Was nineteen coaches long. Darlin’ what have I done to you? What makes you treat me so? An’ I won’t be treated this-a way. [26]For the music of this song, see Chapter XIV. A song of this name has been found in the Kentucky mountains, and a phonograph record (Lonesome Road Blues) based on it has recently appeared. Cf. also The Lonesome Road in Miss Scarborough’s On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs, p. 73. [47] CHAPTER IV BAD MAN BALLADS AND JAMBOREE There is this fortunate circumstance which contributes to the completeness and vividness of the Negro portraits as found in workaday songs: the whole picture is often epitomized in each of several characters or types of singers and their songs. Thus the picture may be viewed from all sides and from different angles, with such leisure and repetition as will insure accurate impressions. One of these types is the “po’ boy long way from home” singing down “that lonesome road,” as represented in the previous chapter. Whether in his ordinary daily task, or on his pilgrimages afar, or in the meshes of the law, this singer approaches perfection in the delineation of his type. Another type is that to be found in the story of Left Wing Gordon as presented in Chapter XII, and of John Henry in Chapter XIII. Likewise, the songs of jail and chain gang, the songs of women and love, and the specialized road songs all embody that fine quality of full and complete reflection of the folk spirit in the Negro’s workaday life and experience. There is perhaps no type, however, which comes more nearly summarizing certain situations, experiences, and backgrounds than the Negro “bad man,” whose story will make an heroic tale of considerable proportions. In many ways the “bad man from bad man’s land” is a favorite. He is eulogized by the youngsters and sung by the worker by the side of the road. One preacher even described Christ as a man who would “stand no foolin’ wid.” “Jesus such great man, no one lak him. Lord, he could pop lion’s head[48] off jes’ lak he wus fryin’-size chicken an’ could take piece o’ mountain top and throw it across the world.” And as for that other bad man, “Nicotemus,” why Jesus, when he got through with him, had him following behind a donkey like any other slave.[27] There was that other young Negro who “was no comfort to preacher, but was a hawk like pizen. Mens like him and wimmin belonged to him wid his winnin’ ways.” In a previous volume[28] we pointed out some of the characteristic experiences and modes of the Negro bum, “bully of this town,” Railroad Bill, Stagolee, Brady, and the others, of twenty years ago. Since that time the tribe has apparently not diminished and flourishes well in the atmosphere of modern life, migration, and the changing conditions of race relations. Of the statistical and environmental aspects of the Negro criminal much will be reported in another study.[29] In this chapter we are concerned with the portrait of a type, perhaps inexorably drawn into the maelstrom of his day and turned into an inevitable product. He is no less an artist than the wanderer, the “travelin’ man,” or Left Wing Gordon. He is the personification of badness mixed with humor, of the bad man and the champion of exploits. We have already referred to the Negro who “wus so mean wus skeered of hisself,” competitor to that other one whose ... eyes wus red an’ his gums wus blue, ’Cause he wus a nigger right through and through. There were still other companions to these in Slippery Jim, Slewfoot Pete, and Ann-Eliza Stone, “mean wid[49] her habbits on” and breaking up the “jamboree.”[30] A common phrase, indeed, threatened always to “break up dis jamboree” in exchange for slighting one’s “repertation.” [27]Cited by Dr. E. C. L. Adams of Columbia, S. C. [28]The Negro and His Songs, page 164 seq. [29]A study of Negro crime directed by J. F. Steiner, for the Institute for Research in Social Science, at the University of North Carolina. [30]See Swan and Abbot, in Eight Negro Songs, New York, 1923. Many are the bad men, and vivid the descriptions. Said one, “Lawd, cap’n, take me till tomorrow night to tell ’bout dat boy. Eve’ybody skeered uv him. John Wilson jes nachelly bully, double j’inted, awful big man, didn’t fear ’roun’ nobody. Would break up ev’y do he ’tended. Go to picnic, take all money off’n table. Couldn’t do nothin’ wid him. Seen feller shoot at him nine times once an’ didn’t do nothin’ to him, an’ he run an’ caught up wid feller an’ bit chunk meat out o’ his back, ... but one man got him wid britch loader an’ stop ’im from suckin’ eggs.” We have found no black bad-man ballads superior to the old ones, Railroad Bill, Stagolee, That Bully of this Town, Desperado Bill, Eddy Jones, Joe Turner, Brady,[31] and the others. And yet, the current stories sung on the road are more accurate portrayals of actual characters and experiences, and perhaps less finished songs, less formal rhyme. Take Lazarus, for instance, a hard luck story, portraying something of Negro sympathy, burial custom, general reaction. Here is a character more to be pitied than censured, according to his companions. Listen to three pick-and-shovel men, tracing “po’ Lazarus” from the work camp where he, poor foolish fellow, robbed the commissary camp and then took to his heels. Thence between the mountains where the high sheriff shot him down, back to the camp and burying ground, with mother, wife,[50] brothers, sisters, comrades weeping, attending the funeral, where they “put po’ Lazarus away at half pas’ nine.” [31]The Negro and His Songs, pages 196-212. Bad Man Lazarus Oh, bad man Lazarus, Oh, bad man Lazarus, He broke in de commissary, Lawd, he broke in de commissary. He been paid off, He been paid off, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd, He been paid off. Commissary man, Commissary man, He jump out commissary window, Lawd, he jump out commissary window. Startin’ an’ fall, O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd, Commissary man startin’ an’ he fall, O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd. Commissary man swore out, Lawd, commissary man swore out, Lawd, commissary man swore out Warrant for Lazarus. O bring him back, Lawd, bring him back, O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd, Bring Lazarus back. They began to wonder, Lawd, they began to wonder, Lawd, they began to wonder Where Lazarus gone. Where in world, Lawd, where in world, Lawd, where in world Will they find him? [51] Well, I don’t know, I don’t know, Well, Lawd, Lawd, Well, I don’t know. Well, the sheriff spied po’ Lazarus, Well, the sheriff spied po’ Lazarus, Lawd, sheriff spied po’ Lazarus Way between Bald Mountain. They blowed him down, Well, they blowed him down, Well, Lawd, Lawd, They blowed him down. They shot po’ Lazarus, Lawd, they shot po’ Lazarus, Lawd, they shot po’ Lazarus With great big number. Well, forty-five, Lawd, great big forty-five, Lawd, forty-five, Turn him roun’. They brought po’ Lazarus, And they brought po’ Lazarus, Lawd, they brought po’ Lazarus Back to the shanty. Brought him to de number nine, Lawd, brought him to number nine, Lawd, they brought him to the number nine, Lawd, they brought po’ Lazarus to number nine. Ol’ friend Lazarus say, Lawd, old friend Lazarus say, Lawd, old friend Lazarus say, “Give me cool drink of water. “Befo’ I die Good Lawd, ’fo’ I die, Give me cool drink of water, Lawd, ’fo’ I die.” [52] Lazarus’ mother say, Lawd, Lazarus’ mother say, “Nobody know trouble I had with him, “Since daddy died, Lawd, since daddy been dead, Nobody know the trouble I had Since daddy been dead.” They goin’ bury po’ Lazarus, Lawd, they goin’ bury ol’ Lazarus, They goin’ bury po’ Lazarus In the mine. At half pas’ nine, O Lawd, Good Lawd, Lawd, Lawd, Goin’ bury po’ Lazarus At half pas’ nine. Me an’ my buddy, Lawd, me an’ my buddy, We goin’ over to bury him, Half pas’ nine. Half pas’ nine, O Lawd, Lawd, half pas’ nine, We goin’ over to bury him, Half pas’ nine. Lazarus’ mother say, “Look over yonder, How dey treatin’ po’ Lazarus, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd.” They puttin’ him away, Lawd, they puttin’ him away, Lawd, they puttin’ Lazarus away, Half pas’ nine. It would be difficult to find a scene and setting more appealing than this ballad being sung by a group of workingmen in unison, with remarkable harmony, fine voices, inimitable manner. “Doesn’t this singing[53] hinder you in your work?” we asked one of the pick-and-shovel men, just to see what type of reply he would make. With first a slow look of surprise, then a sort of pity for the man who would ask such a question, then a “Lawdy-Lawd-Cap’n” outburst of laughter, “Cap’n dat’s whut makes us work so much better, an’ it nuthin’ else but.” And one of the group acted the part of the “shouter” very much like the hearers in the church. He would sing a while, then dig away in silence, then burst out with some exhorter’s exclamation about the song, giving zest to the singing, contrast to the imagery, authority to the story. Once as the singers recorded the shooting of Lazarus, he shouted, “Yes, yes, Lawd, Lawd, I seed ’em, I wus dere”; and again when they sang of his mother weeping, “Yes, Lawd, I wus right dere when she come a-runnin’. I know it’s true.” Taken all in all, the sorrowful story of Lazarus, with its painstaking sequence and its melody as sung on this occasion, it is doubtful if ever Negro spiritual surpassed it in beauty and poignancy. The above version was heard at Danielsville, Georgia. A similar but shorter one, current in North Carolina, is called Billy Bob Russell. “Reason why dey calls it dat is Billy Bob Russell an’ Lazarus been buddies for years, pretty mean boys til dey gits grown. Billy Bob Russell, he’s from Georgia an’ I think Lazarus act sorta like robber or highway robber or somethin’, follow road camp all time.”[32] [32]Other Negroes affirm that Billy Bob Russell was a white man, a Georgia construction foreman and a very noted one. [54] Billy Bob Russell Cap’n tol’ high sheriff, “Go an’ bring me Lazarus, Bring him dead or alive, Lawd, bring him dead or alive.” Eve’ybody wonder Where in world dey would find him, Then I don’t know, Cap’n, I don’t know. Lazarus tol’ high sheriff, He had never been ’rested By no one man, Lawd, Lawd, by no one man. Then they found po’ Lazarus In between two mountains, Wid his head hung down, Lawd, Lawd, wid his head hung down. Shoot po’ Lazarus, Carried him over to shanty, Lawd, shoot po’ Lazarus, Carried him over to shanty. Lazarus’ sister she run An’ tol’ her mother That Lazarus wus dead, Lawd, Lazarus wus dead. Then Lazarus tol’ high sheriff, “Please turn me over On my wounded side, Lawd, on my wounded side.” Lazarus tol’ high sheriff, “Please give me drink water Jes’ befo’ I die, Lawd, jes’ befo’ I die.” [55] Lazarus’ mother, She laid down her sewin’, She wus thinkin’ bout trouble She had had wid Lazarus. In contrast to the more finished rhyming stanzas of Railroad Bill and the earlier heroic epics, note the simple, vivid ballad-in-the-making type of unrhymed song so common as a type of pick-and-shovel melody. Note the accuracy of the picture, its trueness to actual workaday experience, the phrase description. Such a song in the making and in the rendering defies description or competition as a folk-mirror. Differing somewhat and yet of the same general sort of characterization is the current story of Dupree, versions of which have been taken from Asheville, North Carolina, and various other places in Georgia and North Carolina. One of the most interesting aspects of this Dupree song is that it may be compared with the Atlanta ballad of the white Frank Dupree as popularly sung on the phonograph records. The story of the white culprit warns his young friends in the usual way and asks them to meet him in heaven. His crime was, first, snatching a diamond ring for his sweetheart, then shooting the policeman to death, then fleeing but coming back because he could not stay away from his “Betty.” There is little similarity of expression between the white version and the Negro one. Here is the more finished of the Negro songs. Dupree Dupree was a bandit, He was so brave and bol’, He stoled a diamond ring For some of Betty’s jelly roll. [56] Betty tol’ Dupree, “I want a diamond ring.” Dupree tol’ Betty, “I’ll give you anything.” “Michigan water Taste like cherry wine,[33] The reason I know: Betty drink it all the time. “I’m going away To the end of the railroad track. Nothing but sweet Betty Can bring me back.” Dupree tol’ the lawyer, “Clear me if you can, For I have money to back me, Sure as I’m a man.” The lawyer tol’ Dupree, “You are a very brave man, But I think you will Go to jail and hang.” Dupree tol’ the judge, “I am not so brave and bol’, But all I wanted Was Betty’s jelly roll.” The judge tol’ Dupree, “Jelly roll’s gonna be your ruin.” “No, no, judge, for that is What I’ve done quit doin’.” The judge tol’ Dupree, “I believe you quit too late, Because it is Already your fate.” [33]See phonograph record, Michigan Water Blues. In striking contrast to the Dupree just given is one sung by a young Negro who had been in the chain gang[57] a number of times and whose major repertoire consisted of the plaintive chain gang songs. Here the singer has translated the version into his own vernacular, varying lines, eschewing rhyme, carrying his story through the regular channels of the prison type. The lines are given exactly as sung, repetitions and irregularities constituting their chief distinction. And yet something of the same story runs through it. It is perhaps a little nearer the Atlanta version, and the singer adds still another interpretation that Dupree and Betty had quarreled and as a result Dupree had killed her and hidden her body in the sawdust. An interesting local color is that Dupree was sent to Milledgeville, Georgia, where as a matter of fact is situated the combined state prison and hospital. Here, then, is the song with its mixed imagery and reflection of a certain mentality. Dupree Tol’ Betty Betty tol’ Dupree She want a diamond ring; Betty tol’ Dupree She want a diamond ring. Dupree tol’ Betty, Gonna pawn his watch an’ chain; Dupree tol’ Betty, Gonna pawn his watch an’ chain. Dupree left here cold in han’, Dupree left here cold in han’, But when he git back to Georgia, He was wrapped up all in chains. Dupree tol’ Betty, “Gonna git that diamond ring.” Betty tol’ Dupree, “If you stay in love with me, [58] Hurry an’ git that diamond ring; If you stay in love with me, Hurry an’ git that diamond ring.” Dupree tol’ Betty, He git that diamond ring; Dupree tol’ Betty, He git that diamond ring, He went to the pawnshop An’ snatched the diamond ring, He went to the pawnshop An’ snatched the diamond ring. High-sheriff come git Dupree, Took him in the jail. Lawd, jail keeper come and git Dupree, Took him to the jail. Lawd, jail keeper took Dupree An’ put him in his cell, Lawd, jail keeper took Dupree An’ put him in his cell. Dupree ask the sheriff What he had done, Lawd, Dupree ask the sheriff What he had done. Sheriff tol’ him He had snatched diamond ring, Sheriff told him He had snatched diamond ring. Dupree say he ain’t killed no man. Jailer tol’ him take it easy, ’Cause he done snatched the diamond ring, ’Cause he done snatched the diamond ring. He say, “I aint got no case ’gainst you But I bound to put you in jail.” He say, “I aint got no case ’gainst you But I bound to put you in jail.” Dupree laid in jail So long they tried to hang him; They tried to take him to court [59] An’ taken him back again, Judge give him the same old sentence, Lawd, judge give him the same old sentence. Say, “Dupree you kill that po’ little girl An’ hid her in the sawdust. Dupree, we got hangin’ for you, Sorry, Dupree, we got to hang po’ you.” They try to take him to Milledgeville, Lawd, tried to take him to Milledgeville, Put him in a orphans’ home, Lawd, to keep him out of jail. A popular bad man song of many versions is the Travelin’ Man. No one has ever outdistanced him. A long story, rapidly moving, miraculously achieving, triumphantly ending, it represents jazz song, phonograph record, banjo ballad, quartet favorite, although it is not easy to capture. Three versions have been found in the actual singing, one by a quartet which came to Dayton, Tennessee, to help entertain the evolution mongers; another by Kid Ellis, of Spartanburg, South Carolina, himself a professed traveling man; a third by a North Carolina Negro youth who had, however, migrated to Pennsylvania and returned after traveling in seven or eight other states of the union. The South Carolina version, which is given here, is of the Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’ type of vaudeville and ballad mixture. Travelin’ Man Now I jus’ wanna tell you ’bout travelin’ man, His home was in Tennessee; He made a livin’ stealin’ chickens An’ anything he could see. Chorus: He was a travelin’ man, He certainly was a travelin’ man, [60] He was mos’ travelin’ man That ever was in this lan’. And when the law got after that coon, He certainly would get on the road. An’ if a train pass, no matter how fas’, He certainly would get on boa’d. He was a travelin’ man, Was seen for miles aroun’, He never got caught, an’ never give up Until the police shot him down. The police shot him with a rifle, An’ the bullet went through his head, The people came for miles aroun’ To see if he was dead. They sent down South for his mother, She was grieved and moved with tears, Then she open the coffin to see her son, An’ the fool had disappeared. The police got in an auto An’ started to chase that coon, They run him from six in the mornin’ Till seven that afternoon. The coon ran so bloomin’ fast That fire come from his heels; He scorched the cotton an’ burnt the corn An’ cut a road through the farmer’s’ fields. The coon went to the spring one day To get a pail of water; The distance he had to go Was two miles and a quarter. He got there an’ started back, But he stumbled an’ fell down; He went to the house and got another pail, An’ caught the water ’fore it hit the ground. The coon stole a thousand dollars, Was in broad open day time. [61] I ast the coon if he wa’n’t ashame To commit such an awful crime. They put the coon on the gallows An’ told him he would die; He crossed his legs an’ winked his eye And sailed up in the sky. The coon got on the Titanic An’ started up the ocean blue, But when he saw the iceberg, Right overboa’d he flew. The white folks standin’ on the deck, Said “Coon, you are a fool.” But ’bout three minutes after that He was shootin’ craps in Liverpool. For the rest of this picture of the bad man the simple presentation of songs and fragments in sufficient numbers to illustrate main types will suffice. His name is legion, and he ranks all the way from the “polish man” to the “boll-weevil nigger,” much despised of the common man of the better sort. Bad men come into peaceful and industrious communities and disturb the peace. They flow in from other states to add to the number of offenders, yet in spite of their numbers and character, the church throng, the picnic, the funeral and other social occasions seem to have much fewer murders and fracases than formerly. If the bad man can be turned into song and verse, with the picture of adventure and romance becoming more and more mythical, the Negro will profit by the evolution. For the present, however, here are samples of the portrayals most commonly sung, with apologies to all improvisators, minstrel artists, and white-folk imitators of Negro verse. [62] Bolin Jones Bolin Jones wuz A man of might, He worked all day And he fit all night. O Lawsy, Lawsy, He’s a rough nigger, Han’ to his hip, Fingers on de trigger. Lay ’em low, Lay ’em low, When Bolin’s ’round, Mind whar you go. Roscoe Bill I’m de rowdy from over de hill, I’m de rowdy called Roscoe Bill, Roscoe Bill, Roscoe Bill, When I shoots I’m boun’ to kill. I’m Roscoe Bill Dat never gits skeered, Goes frum shack to shack, Tries de udder man’s bed. I’m Roscoe Bill, De man of might, Plum tickled to death When I raise a fight. I’m Roscoe Bill Dat de women all foller. Takes what dey got, Den steals deir dollar. Layin’ Low Layin’ low, never know When de cops about. Shootin’ crap on my gal’s lap, I’ve got to go my route. [63] Layin’ low, never know, When de p’liceman’s walkin’ about, Walkin’ in, stalkin’ about, Dat p’liceman’s walkin’ about. Don’t Fool Wid Me Dark town alley’s too small a place For me and that cop to have a fair race. I lay low till de night am dark, Den dis here nigger is out for a lark. Han’s up, nigger, don’t fool wid me, I put nigger whar he ought-a be. Creepin’ ’Roun’ Work in de mornin’, In de evenin’ I sleep. When de dark comes, Lawd, Dis nigger got to creep. Chorus: Creepin’ ’roun’, Creepin’ in, Creepin’ everywhere A creeper’s been. Eats in de mornin’, In de evenin’ I looks ’roun’. When de dark comes, Lawd, A chocolate gal I’ve foun’. Shootin’ Bill Dere’s a nigger on my track, Dere’s a nigger on my track, Dere’s a nigger on my track, Let de undertaker take him back. I’m a man shoots de two-gun fire, I’m a man shoots de two-gun fire, I’m a man shoots de two-gun fire, I’se got a gal who’s a two-faced liar. [64] When I shoots, I shoots to kill, When I shoots, I shoots to kill, When I shoots, I shoots to kill, Dat’s why dey fears Shootin’ Bill! I Am Ready For de Fight When at night I makes my bed, When at night I makes my bed, When at night I makes my bed, Puts my feets up to de head. If dey hunts me in de night, If dey hunts me in de night, If dey hunts me in de night, I am ready fer de fight. I sleeps wid one year out, I sleeps wid one year out, I sleeps wid one year out, Got to know when dem rounders ’bout. Up an’ down dis worl’, Up an’ down dis worl’, Up an’ down dis worl’, Lookin’ fer dat tattlin’ gal. Slim Jim From Dark-town Alley Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop, Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop, Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop From dark-town alley. Slim Jim drapped down a cop, Slim Jim drapped down a cop, Slim Jim drapped down a cop In dark-town alley. Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las’, Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las’, Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las’ In dark-town alley. [65] De jails kotch him at las’, dat chocolate drop, De jails kotch him at las’, dat chocolate drop, De jails kotch him at las’, dat chocolate drop From dark-town al-ley. Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away, Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away, Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away, Back to dark-town alley. I’m a Natural-bo’n Ram’ler I’m a natural-bo’n ram’ler, I’m a natural-bo’n ram’ler, I’m a natural-bo’n ram’ler, An’ it ain’t no lie. I travels about on Monday night, I travels about when de moon is bright. I travels about on Tuesday, too, I travels about when got nuthin’ else to do. I travels about on Wednesday mo’n, Been travelin’ ever since I been bo’n, On Thurs’ I rambles ’round de town, Dey ain’t no Jane kin hol’ me down. Friday ketches me wid my foot in my han’, I’m de out-derndest traveler of any man. Saturday’s de day I rambles fo’ sumpin to eat, An’ Sunday de day dis ram’ler sleeps. I’m de Hot Stuff Man I’m de hot stuff man Frum de devil’s lan’. Go on, nigger, Don’t you try to buck me, I’m de hot stuff man Frum de devil’s lan’. I’m a greasy streak o’ lightnin’, Don’t you see? Don’t you see? Don’t you see? [66] I can cuss, I can cut, I can shoot a nigger up. Go on, nigger, Don’t you try to buck me, I’m de fas’est man, Can clean up de lan’. I’m a greasy streak o’ lightnin’, Can’t you see? I’m a greasy streak o’ lightnin’, Can’t you see? Reuben[34] Dat you, Reuben? Dat you, Reuben? Den dey laid ol’ Reuben down so low. Say ol’ Reuben had a wife, He’s in trouble all his life. Den dey lay Reuben down so low. Dat you Reuben? Dat you Reuben? Den dey laid Reuben down so low. Says ol’ Reuben mus’ go back, When he pawn his watch an’ hack. Den dey laid Reuben down so low. Says ol’ Reuben mus’ be dead, When he laid upon his bed. Den dey laid Reuben down so low. Dat you Reuben? Dat you Reuben? Den dey laid Reuben down so low. [34]We are told that this song is common among the whites of Western North Carolina. Bloodhoun’ on My Track Bloodhoun’ from Macon right on my track, Right on my track, right on my track. Bloodhoun’ from Macon right on my track, Wonder who gonna stan’ my bon’? [67] Buffalo Bill I’m de bad nigger, If you wants to know; Look at dem rounders In de cemetery row. Shoot, nigger, Shoot to kill, Who’s you foolin’ wid? My Buffalo Bill? Buffalo Bill Wus a man of might, Always wore his britches Two sizes too tight. Split ’em nigger, Ride ’em on a rail; I’ve got de mon to Pay yo’ bail. Dat Leadin’ Houn’ Dere’s a creeper hangin’ ’roun’, I’m gwiner git ’im I be boun’. Den dey put dat feller in de groun’ An’ I be listenin’ fer dat houn’, Dat leadin’ houn’. All aroun’ here, All aroun’ here, What does I keer? Listenin’ fer dat leadin’ houn’. Steal in home middle o’ de night, Give dem folksies sich a fright. Say, “Feed me, woman, treat me right,” But she send fer de sheriff An’ de leadin’ houn’. Outrun Dat Cop Hi lee, hi lo, happy on de way, Hi lee, hi lo, outrun dat cop today. Hi lee, hi lo, watch his shirt-tail fly, Hi lee, hi lo, ’splain to you by and by. [68] Don’t You Hear? Don’t you hear dat shakin’ noise? Don’t you hear dat creepin’ ’roun’? Don’t you hear dat stefly walkin’? Dat’s dat man I laid down, laid down. Can’t you hear dem bones a-shakin’? Can’t you hear dem dead man’s moan? Can’t you see dem dead man’s sperrits? Can’t you see dat man ain’t gone? I’s a Natural-bo’n Eastman I’s a natural-bo’n eastman, An’ a cracker jack, I’s a natural-bo’n eastman An’ a cracker jack, On de road again, On de road again. I Steal Dat Corn I steal dat corn From de white man’s barn, Den I slips aroun’, Tells a yarn, An’ sells it back again. I steal dem chickens From de white man’s yard, Den I tells dat man I’s workin’ hard, An’ I sells ’em back again. I steal de melons From his patch, It takes a smarter man dan him Fer ter ketch, An’ I sells ’em back again. [69] I’m de Rough Stuff I’m de rough stuff of dark-town alley, I’m de man dey hates to see. I’m de rough stuff of dis alley, But de womens all falls for me. Lawd, Lawd, how dey hates me! Lawd, Lawd, how dey swear! Lawd, Lawd, how dey hates me! Lawd, Lad, what-a mo’ do I care? I Ain’t Done Nothin’ Went up to ’Lanta, Who should I meet? Forty-leben blue coats Comin’ down de street, Forty-leben blue coats Comin’ down de street. I ain’t done nothin’, What dey follerin’ after me? I ain’t done nothin, Can’t dey let me be? When He Grin His head was big an’ nappy, An’ ashy wus his skin, But good God-a’mighty, man, You forget it when he grin. His nose wus long an’ p’inted, His eyes wus full o’ sin, But good God-a’mighty, man, You forget it when he grin. His foots wus long an’ bony, An’ skinny wus his shin, But good God-a’mighty, man, You forget it when he grin. [70] He’d fight ten, He could sin, always win, But good God-a’mighty, man, You forget it when he grin. Shot My Pistol in the Heart o’ Town[35] O Lawd, Shot my pistol In the heart o’ town. Lawd, the big chief hollered, “Doncha blow me down.” O Lawd, Which a-way Did the po’ gal go? She lef’ here runnin’, Is all I know. O Lawd, Which a-way Do the Red River run? Lawd, it run east and west Like the risin’ sun. Black gal hollered, Like to scared my brown to death. If I hadn’t had my pistol I’d a-run myself. O Lawd, Jes’ two cards In the deck I love Lawd, the Jack o’ Diamonds An’ the Ace o’ Clubs. O Lawd, Stopped here to play Jes’ one mo’ game. Lawd, Jack o’ Diamonds Petered on my han’. [35]For music see Chapter XIV. [71] CHAPTER V SONGS OF JAIL, CHAIN GANG, AND POLICEMEN Not all Negro “bad men” achieve an abiding place in jail or chain gang. Not all Negroes in jail or chain gang are “bad men”—not by long odds. And yet the prison population of the South contains abundant representations of both major and minor Negro offenders, although the indications are that the ratio of Negroes to whites is decreasing rapidly. And if one wishes to obtain anything like an adequate or accurate picture of the workaday Negro he will surely find much of his best setting in the chain gang, prison, or in the situations of the ever-fleeing fugitive from “chain-gang houn’,” high sheriff or policeman. “I ain’t free, Lawd, I ain’t free,” sings the prisoner who bemoans the bad luck in which he had “nobody to pay my fine.” Never did the old spiritual, as in “Go down, Moses, tell ol’ Pharaoh, let my people go,” express more determined call for freedom than the Negro singer behind the bars. Yet the Negro prisoner combines admirable humor with his wailing song: I Ain’t Free De rabbit in de briar patch, De squirrel in de tree, Would love to go huntin’, But I ain’t free, But I ain’t free, But I ain’t free, Would love to go huntin’, But I ain’t free, ain’t free. [72] De rooster’s in de hen house, De hen in de patch, I love to go shootin’ At a ol’ shootin’ match; But I ain’t free, But I ain’t free, But I ain’t free, At a ol’ shootin’ match, But I ain’t free, ain’t free. Ol’ woman in de kitchen, My sweetie hangin’ ’roun’, ’Nudder man gonna git ’er, I sho’ be boun’, ’Cause I ain’t free, ’Cause I ain’t free, ’Cause I ain’t free, ’Nudder man ’ll git ’er, ’Cause I ain’t free, ain’t free. Dig in de road band, Dig in de ditch, Chain gang got me, An’ de boss got de switch I ain’t free, I ain’t free, I ain’t free, Chain gang got me, An’ I ain’t free, ain’t free. This chapter makes no approach to the study of the Negro criminal. That will be done in the scientific inquiries which are now being made at length and in later studies of the Negro bad man. What the chapter attempts is simply to give further pictures of the Negro workaday singer as he is found behind prison bars, or with ball and chain, or in humorous workaday retrospect or prospect of experiences what time he pays the penalty for his misdoings. For these prison and road songs, policeman and sheriff epics, jail and chain[73] gang ballads constitute an eloquent cross-section of the whole field of Negro songs. Many are sung even as the ordinary work songs; others are improvised and varied. One may listen to high-pitched voices, plaintive and wailing, until the haunting melody will abide for days. The prisoners sing of every known experience from childhood and home to “hard luck in the family, sho’ God, fell on me.” One youngster about twenty-one years of age, periodic offender with experience on the chain gang and in jail, sang more than one hundred songs or fragments and the end was not yet. They cannot be described; selections are not representative. And yet, listen for a while: Jail House Wail The jail’s on fire, Lawd, The stockade’s burnin’ down. Well, they ain’t got nowhere, Lawd, to put the prisoners now. Taken prisoners out o’ jail, Lawd, Carried ’em to county road. Say, I ruther be in chain gang Than be in jail all time. Say, jailer keep you bound down, Lawd, say jailer dog you ’roun’. Says if I had my way wid jailer, I’d take an’ lock him in cell. I’d take key an’ tie it on door, An’ go long way from here, Lawd, Lawd. Says jail keeper tol’ me, Lawd, Gonna help me get back home. When time come to be tried, Jail keeper lied on me. [74] I told my mother not to worry at all, Lawd, not to worry at all. Lawd, goin’ to road, mama, Tryin’ to make good time. Mama, she cried all night long, O mama, she cried all night long. Well, she wiped her tears off, Say, son, she won’t cry no more. Mama come to the road, Lawd, See her son on the gang. I tol’ her not to bother, Lawd, cause I got short time. Once on the gang or in the jail continuous song is not unusual. Waking folk with song in early morning, chanting after meal time, plaintive in the evening, the Negro lives over his past life, gives expression to his feelings, and plans the new day, “standin’ on rock pile with ball an’ chain,” or “standin’ on rock pile, with hammer in my hand.” He sings of past days, sorrows that some other man will get his girl, boasts a woman in the white man’s yard— My gal she bring me chicken, My gal she bring me ham, My gal she bring me everything, An’ she don’t give a damn. Sometimes he is more cheerful and sings, “cawn pone, fat meat, all I gits to eat, better’n I git at home,” “Rings on my arms, bracelets on my feet, stronger’n I has at home!” And with bunk for a bed and straw for his head, he sings, “baby, baby, let me be.” How could he help falling into the hands of the officers anyway? [75] ’Tain’t as Bad as I Said Good God a’-mighty! What’s a fellow gonna do, When ol’ black mariah[36] Come a-sailin’ after you? Good God a’-mighty! My feet’s got wings, Dey can take dis ol’ body Lak she on ’iled springs. Good God a’-mighty! She’s right ’roun’ de corner, Sho’s you bohn, Dis nigger’s a goner. Good God a’-mighty! ’Tain’t bad as I said, Three square meals a day An’ bunk fer a bed. [36]“Black Mariah” is frequently encountered in Negro songs. It refers to the patrol wagon. The songs that follow will illustrate further the Negro’s story of his prison life, his desire for freedom, his efforts to escape, his attitude toward the policeman, jailer and sheriff, and his humorous interpretation of various situations in which he finds himself. Vivid pictures they are. If I Can Git to Georgia Line If I can git to Georgia line, If I can git to Georgia line, Lawd, if I can git to Georgia line, Georgia, murderer’s home. Monday I was ’rested, Tuesday I was fined, Wednesday I laid in jail, Thursday I was tried. [76] If I can git to Georgia line, Lawd, if I can git to Georgia line, O Lawd, if I can git to Georgia line, Georgia, murderer’s home. Don’t ask about it, If you do I cry. Don’t ask about it, If you do I cry. What did redbird, redbird Say to crow, crow? You bring rain, rain, I bring snow, snow! Friday wid chain gang band, Saturday pick an’ shovel, Sunday I took my rest, Monday want to do my best. Every, every mail day, Mail day, I gits a letter, Cryin’, “Son, come home, Lawd, Lawd, come home.” I didn’t have no, No ready money, I couldn’t go home. No, no, couldn’t go home. I’m on road here Just a few days longer, Then I’m goin’ home Law’, Law’, I’m goin’ home. Got Me in the Calaboose Got me in the calaboose, Got me in the calaboose, Got me in the calaboose, Ain’t nobody turn me loose. Hit’s bad, bad on the inside lookin’ out, Hit’s bad, bad on the inside lookin’ out, [77] Hit’s bad, bad on the inside lookin’ out, This po’ boy know what he’s talkin’ about. My gal come to the bar and done peep in, My gal come to the bar and done peep in, My gal come to the bar and done peep in, She say, “Honey man, where you been?” When I git out I ain’t gonna stay here, When I git out I ain’t gonna stay here, When I git out I ain’t gonna stay here, Ain’t let nobody treat me dis way. Po’ boy, don’t give me no show, Po’ boy, don’t give me no show, Po’ boy, don’t give me no show, Ain’t gonna be bossed around no mo’. I Don’t Mind Bein’ in Jail I never turn back no more, Lawd, I never turn back no more, Every mail day I gets letter from my mother, Say, “Son, son, come home.” I been fallin’ ever since Mary was a baby, An’ now she’s gone. I’m nine hundred miles from home An’ I can’t go home this way. I wish I was a contractor’s son, I’d stand on the bank and have the work well done. If he don’t work, I’ll have him hung, Lawd, if he don’t work, I’ll have him hung. I wish I had a bank of my own, I’d give all the po’ workin’ men a good happy home. She used to be mine, look who’s got her now. Sho’ can keep her, she don’t mean no good to me no mo’. I laid in jail, back turned to the wall, Told the jailer to put new man in my stall. I don’t mind bein’ in jail If I didn’t have to stay so long.[37] [37]This stanza is found in somewhat different form in the popular song entitled Jail-House Blues. [78] Chain Gang Blues[38] Standin’ on the road side, Waitin’ for the ball an’ chain. Say, if I was not all shackled down I’d ketch that wes’ boun’ train. Standin’ on the rock pile Wid a hammer in my hand, Lawd, standin’ on rock pile, Got to serve my cap’n down in no-man’s land. The judge he give me sentence ’Cause I wouldn’ go to work. From sunrise to sunset I have no other clean shirt. All I got is lovin’, Lovin’ an’ a-sluggin’, Say I feels just like a stepchild, Just gi’me the chain gang blues. Oh, my captain call me An’ my gal work in white folks’ yard. I believe I’ll go there too, ’Cause I got the chain gang blues. My gal she bring me chicken, My gal she bring me ham, My gal she bring me everything, An’ she don’t give a damn. My gal she got a molar Right down below her nose, She got teeth in her mouth I’d swear to God was gold. My gal she cried las’ night, She cried the whole night long; She cried because judge sentence me, ’Cause I had to go so long. [79] My gal she cried all night, I told her not to worry at all. I’m goin’ on the chain gang, I ’spec’ I’ll be back in the fall. [38]The first four stanzas of this song, except for some slight variations, are also found in Chain Gang Blues, a popular phonograph piece. All Boun’ in Prison[39] Hey, jailer, tell me what have I done. Got me all boun’ in prison, Tryin’ to ’bide dis woman’s time, Tryin’ to ’bide dis woman’s time. Chorus: All boun’ in prison, All boun’ in jail, Col’ iron bars all ’roun’ me, No one to go my bail. I got a mother and father Livin’ in a cottage by de sea. I got a sister and a brother, too, Wonder do dey think o’ po’ me. I walked in my room de udder night, My man walked in and began to fight. I took my gun in my right han’, Told de folks I’m gonna kill my man. When I said dat, he broke a stick ’cross my head. First shot I made my man fell dead. De paper comed out and strowed de news, Das why I say I’s got de cell-bound blues. [39]Cf. phonograph record, Cell Bound Blues. I Went to de Jail House O Lawd, Lawd, good Lawd, Lawd, I went to de jail house, fell down on my knees. I ask that jailer, “Captain, give me back my gal.” Jailer told me, “Sorry, brother, she said her las’ goodbye.” Lawd, I went to judge to ask for a fine. Judge say, Lawd, he ain’t got no time. [80] Lawd, I laid in jail so long, Ain’t got no home at all. Good lawd, look-a here, jail keeper, Won’t you put another gal in my stall? Say, I been here so long, Don’t know what I’ll do. Judge Gonna Sentence Us So Long Say, brother, we better get ready to leave jail, ’Cause judge gonna sentence us so long. Judge gonna sentence us so long, We ain’t gonna come back here no mo’. Lawd, we have laid in jail so long, Lawd, we have laid in jail so long. Say, judge sentence me so long, He ain’t had no mercy on us. Lawd, captain, come an’ got me, Taken me to road to work. Lawd, taken me out one mornin’, Taken me out so soon. Told captain didn’t know how to work. Told me, “Shine, get down that line.” I told the court, Lawd, “Rather be layin’ in jail Wid my back turned to de wall.” I am worried, pretty mama, But I won’t be worried long. Thought I rather be in my grave Than be treated like a slave. Say, rather be in Birmingham Eatin’ pound cake and all. Say, these women in Georgia Keep you in trouble all the time. [81] Say, you better catch your train, Go to Alabama bound. I am leavin’ here, rider, Sho’ don’t want to go. But I ’spect I have to leave here, Or I’ll be in chain gang, too. Gonna git me a black woman, Play safe all the time. For your brown skin woman Keep you in trouble all the time. My Man He Got in Trouble Mr. T. Bluker, Don’t work my man so hard, ’Cause he’s po’ player, Ain’t never had no job. Oh, my man he got in trouble, He didn’t have no friend at all. They carried him to jail house, Locked him up in cell. I asked the judge be light on him. Judge told him not bring nothin’ like that, Judge give him six months in jail, Lawd, judge give him six months in jail. Captain put him on the road. “Captain, how long have I got?” Captain say to the shine, “Eat your supper and run on down the line.” Captain say, “Git your supper, Lawd, and change your clothes.” Captain say, “Git your supper, Git your chains and balls.” [82] The Judge He Sentence Me I laid in the jail with my back to the wall, I laid in the jail with my back to the wall, Prayed to the Lord that Big rock jail would fall. The judge he sentence me, Lawd, Give me twelve long months. The judge he sentence me, Lawd, Give me twelve long months. Den captain come take me to de road. I ask the captain what I gonna do. Captain told me to pick and shovel too. I rather be dead, Lawd, and in my grave. Captain told me, Say, “Lawd, you ain’t gonna work, Lawd, you ain’t gonna work nowhere else But on this chain gang.” Say, “If I let you go home this time, You be right back in jail. When judge gets you again Gonna give you five long years.” Say, “If you don’t quit drinkin’ An’ don’t quit killin’, robbin’ and stealin’, You gonna git life time An’ in chain gang, too.” Told captain, “I ain’t robbin’ no trains, I swear to God I ain’t kill no man.” Lawd, I told the captain, “I ain’t robbin’ no trains, Swear to God I ain’t kill no man.” I Got a Letter, Captain I got a letter, captain, Say, Lawd, come home, Lawd, captain, come home, Lawd, say, son, come home. [83] I don’t have, I don’t have, Lawdy, I don’t have, Lawdy, no ready-made money, An’ I can’t go home. I got a gal, Lawd, Stays right in town. I got a gal, Lawd, Stays right in town. Lawd, street car run Right by her door, Lawd, she don’t have to walk Nowhere she go. Say she take a walk up town, Lawd, she take a walk up town. Well, she got in town, Lawd, An’ come back home. Well, she caught street car An’ come back home. Lawd, she got street car, Lawd, Lawd, an’ come back home. Prisoner’s Song[40] Wished I had some one to love me, Some one to call me their own, Because I’m tired of livin’ alone, Lawd, I’m tired of livin’ alone. I has a gran’ ship on de ocean, Filled wid silver an’ gold; An’ befo’ my darlin’ should suffer, Dat ship will be anchored an’ go. I’ll be carried to de jail tomorrow, Leavin’ my po’ darlin’ alone, With the cold prison bars all around me An’ my head on a pillow of stone. [84] If I had wings lak an angel, Over dese prison bars I would fly. An’ I would fly to the arms of my po’ darling, An’ dere I’d lay down and die. [40]Except for a few minor variations, this is the now popular Prisoner’s Song. It was of folk origin, however. Woke up Wid My Back to the Wall O Lawd, I woke up in the morning, Woke up wid my back to the wall. O Lawd, I woke up in the morning, Woke up wid my back to the wall. I took a peep out at the bars O Lawd, I thought I was home. Lawd, I heard a key rattlin’, High-sheriff comin’ in. Thought I heard a sheriff comin’, Lawd, bring my breakfas’ to me. Thought I see my coffin, Lawd, rollin’ up to my do’. Lawd, he say, “Dat gal say she don’t want you no mo’.” Lawd, I lay right down, hung my head and cried. Lawd, he say, “Dat gal say she don’t want you no mo’.” Lawd, I laid right down in jail and cried. Lawd, I’m so awful worried till I don’t know what to do. Well, I mistreated Daddy, he hangs ’roun’ me day and night. He wakes me in the mornings, He moans when I am sleepin’. He makes me swear, Lawd, Have no other man but you. In the Negro’s prison songs is revealed again that dual nature which sings of sorrowful limitations alongside humorous and philosophical resignation. Here are scenes of the lonesome road illuminated by entertainment of rare quality. “I’m in jail now,” he sings,[85] “but jes’ fer a day.” “I ain’t got no parole, but I’m a-comin’ back.” It is true that he has only corn bread and fat meat to eat but that’s “better’n I has at home.” And then with genuine humor he sings also of the iron cuffs about his hands which also are “stronger’n I has at home.” Better’n I Has at Home Cawn pone, fat meat, All I gits to eat— Better ’n I has at home, Better ’n I has at home. Cotton socks, striped clothes, No Sunday glad rags at all— Better ’n I gits at home, Better ’n I gits at home. Rings on my arms, Bracelets on my feet— Stronger ’n I has at home, Stronger ’n I has at home. Bunk fer a bed, Straw under my head— Better ’n I gits at home, Better ’n I gits at home. Baby, baby, lemme be, Chain gang good enough fer me— Better ’n I gits at home, Better ’n I gits at home. I’m Comin’ Back I write you a letter Sayin’, “Come back home.” I sent you a message, “Honey, don’t you roam.” Comin’ back, comin’ back, Hound on my track, yes baby, I’m comin’ back. [86] Went to de gov’nor, Ast a parole. Dat man he answered, “Not to save yer soul.” Comin’ back, comin’ back; Ain’t got no parole, But I’m comin’ back. Lawd, Lawd, I’m comin’ back, Hounds on my track, Ol’ clothes on my back, Ol’ woman in my shack. No parole, but I’m comin’ back. Goin’ Back to de Gang De night wus dark, de guard wus gone, I slipped dat chain off’n my laig, De night wus dark, an’ de rain hit poured. Dis nigger astray wid nowhere to board. I’s hungry and cold, nowhere to go, When de niggers see dese clothes, dey shets de do’. Out all night, de dawgs am comin’, Goin’ back to de gang, tired o’ bummin’. Shin up a tree, no time to be los’, ’Cause here’s de dawgs, and, golly, de boss! Dem Chain Gang Houn’s I ain’t no possum, I ain’t no squir’l, But I can shin de highes’ tree in all de worl’, When I hear dem houn’s, dem chain gang houn’s. Hear dem ol’ houn’s, soun’ goes up to heav’n, If dey’s one dawg, dey mus’ be ’lev’n. Oh, dem houn’s, dat ol’ lead houn’. ’Tain’t good fer a nigger’s health to stay on de ground. Hear dem houn’s, dem chain gang houn’s. Come git me, boss, come take me down, Anything’s better’n de chain gang houn’. [87] Shoot, Good God, Shoot! De jedge and de jury Thought ’twas a shame. Dey called me up dere, Axed me my name. My God a-mighty, What’s a feller gwiner do, When a nigger gits his wife An’ my wife, too? Shoot, good God, shoot! Ol’ Black Mariah Look over de hill, see what’s a-comin’, Ol’ black mariah, natchel-bo’n hummin’. Drive up to de do’, grab me by de collar, Good Lawd, man, ain’t got time to holler. Jes’ Fer a Day I’m ’hind de bars, but jes’ fer a day, ’Cause walkin’ out de do’ ain’t de only way. I’ve got a saw, and I work like de devil, All t’ings in dis case am sho’ on de level. All Us Niggers ’hind De Bars I got a gal, you got a gal, All us niggers got a gal. He fool ’roun’, I fool ’roun’, All us niggers fool ’roun’. I got a razor, he got a razor, All us niggers got a razor. I ’hind de bars, he ’hind de bars, All us niggers ’hind de bars. [88] CHAPTER VI SONGS OF CONSTRUCTION CAMPS AND GANGS In the old days—and sometimes in more recent years—there were characteristic and unforgettable scenes of groups of Negroes singing in the fields. Here was a picture of late afternoon in the cotton field, the friendly setting sun a challenge to reviving energies; rows of cotton clean picked, rivalry and cheerful banter, faster picking to the row’s end, sacks and baskets full for weighing time; group singing, now joyous, then the melancholy tinge of eventide, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Since I Laid My Burden Down or Keep Inchin’ Erlong. Another picture is vivid: A spring morning, a few Negroes following mule and plow, many chopping cotton to the accompaniment of song, all making rhythm of song, movement, and clink of hoe resound in rare harmony, duly interspersed with shouts and laughter. Or the morning yodel or “cornfield holler,” with its penetrating vibrato, Ya-a-ee-ah—oo-a-ee-ou—indescribable either in words, sound, or musical notation.[41] Or wagons lumbering on cold mornings, drivers and workers on the way to field or mill, songs echoing across the hills. And there were the other group scenes: the roustabouts on the levee, the singers around the cabins, the groups in the kitchen. Many of these scenes, of course, in modified form may yet be found and songs of their setting are still to be heard, but they do not constitute the most commonly abounding characteristic workaday songs of the present. [41]The phono-photographic record of such a yodel is given in Chapter XV. [89] Modern scenes, however different, are no less impressive. Whoever has seen a railroad section gang of five score Negroes working with pick and shovel and hammer and bars and other tools, and has heard them singing together will scarcely question the effectiveness of the scene. Likewise steel drivers and pick-and-shovel men sing down a road that is anything but “lonesome” now. Four pickmen of the road sing, swinging pick up, whirling it now round and round and now down again, movement well punctuated with nasal grunt and swelling song. Another group unloading coal, another asphalt, another lime, or sand, sing unnumbered songs and improvisations. Another group sings as workers rush wheelbarrows loaded with stone or sand or dirt or concrete, or still again line up on the roadside with picks and shovels. And of course there are the songs of the chain gangs already described, but nevertheless gang songs of the first importance. All these singers constitute the great body of workers and singers who sing apparently with unlimited repertoire. The selections in this chapter, as in the others, are representative in that they were taken directly from Negro singers and workers in the South during 1924 and 1925. Among the most attractive of all the Negro workaday songs are those sometimes called “free labor gang songs,”[42] of which there are many. Some of these are reserved for Chapter VII in which many miscellaneous examples of songs to help with work are given. Other samples have been included in the “Songs of the Lonesome Road.” Examples of the melodies are given in Chapter XV. It will be understood, of course, that other songs such as John Henry,[90] Jerry on the Mountain, Lazarus, are sung in this capacity, although classified primarily in other groups for the sake of better illustration. [42]The Negroes use the term “free labor” to distinguish ordinary work from convict labor. “Free Labor” Gang Song Cap’n, did you hear ’bout All yo’ men gonna leave you, Nex’ pay day, Lawd, Lawd, nex’ pay day? Ev’y mail day, Mail day, I gits letter, From my dear ol’ mother, She tell me, “Son, come home.” That ol’ letter, Read about dyin’. Boy did you ever Think about dyin’? Then I can’t read it Now for cryin’, Tears run down, Lawd, Lawd, tears run down. Jes’ wait till I make these few days I started, I’m goin’ home, Lawd, Lawd, I’m goin’ home. Everywhere I Look this morning, Look lak rain, Lawd, Lawd, look lak rain. I got rainbow Tied all ’roun’ my shoulder, Ain’t gonna rain, Lawd, Lawd, ain’t gonna rain. Mike an’ Jerry Come down main line Southern, [91] Didn’t stop to get No water neither coal. I done walk till Feets gone to rollin’ Jes’ lak a wheel, Lawd, Lawd, jes’ lak wheel. Now ev’y time I, Time I start ’round mountain, My light goes out, Lawd, Lawd, my light goes out. I’m gonna buy me Magnified lantern, It won’t go out, Lawd, Lawd, it won’t go out. I got a wife, Two-three children in mountain, Cryin’ fer bread, Lawd, Lawd, cryin’ fer bread. O Lawd, Mamie O Lawd, Mamie, Poke yo’ head out window, Jes’ to see me fall, Lawd, jes’ to see me fall. I been fallin’ From my shoulder, Lawd, I been fallin’ All day long. O Lawd, Mamie, If I make it You shall have it, If it’s all in gold. I been fallin’ Ev’y since Mamie wus baby, Now she’s grown, Lawd, now she’s grown. [92] When we meet my Little curly headed woman, Bow yo’ head, O Lawd, an’ tip yo’ hat. If I make it Through July an’ August, O Lawd, I’ll be a man, O Lawd, I’ll be a man. He-i-Heira He-he-heira! Look how my captain stan’, Stand more like a farmer Than he do a railroad man! Oh, oh, oh! If I had listen to what mama said. I’d be at home now, Lawd, in mama’s bed. He-i-heira! Believe I will Take my pick, Lawd, over on the hill. Goin’ up town, Hurry right back, Gonna see Corinne When she ball that jack. Oh, oh, Lawd, oh, Goin’ on up town, Buy my gal a hat, Lawd, buy my gal a hat. She brought it back, Lawd, Laid it on the shelf Every time she turn around Makes her wanter jazz. Goin’ up town, Lawd, Gonna walk in the yard; [93] Two-and-a-half hours to work, Work ain’t hard. O you, down, boys, Yes, we goin’ down. O you, down, boys, Yes, we goin’ down. I don’t know, But believe I will Make my home In Jacksonville. Section Boss Yonder come the engine Ringin’ o’ the bell; Engineer on the right, Fireman on the left. See the engine makin’ time, See the engineer gone. Fall off the car, Throw off the tools. Throw off the tools, Let the engine go by. If I could run like he runs, I’d run an’ never stop. See the train makin’ up speed, See the cars go ’long. If I had wings like that engine, I could run an’ fly. I could pull the bell, I could blow the whistle, I could pull the bell, An’ let the engine run. If I could run like he runs, I never would quit, I’d always railroad I’d always run an’ fly. [94] The mind of the worker and wanderer is perhaps reflected better in his annals of the day’s work as expressed in his “captain” songs than anywhere else. Some of the “captain” songs have been sung until they are on the verge of folk songs; some approach the haven of the blues, and many more are in the formative stage. The examples immediately following in this chapter are combinations of all three, with the predominating mode that of combination and improvisation. Some of them are clearly songs of the chain gang as well as of free labor construction work. That they are fairly accurate portrayals of the worker and his task, of the captain and his ways, of the thoughts and customs of the worker and singer will be evident to any one who knows the field. To the uninitiated the laborer is merely a laborer, silent, reserved, certainly keeping back from the white man his innermost thoughts, wishes, and feelings. But hear him sing—hear him repeat the formal songs, hear him make new ones. O Captain, Captain[43] O captain, captain, Where you been so long? O captain, I been at home An’ done got in trouble again. O captain, captain, Won’t you be kind? Don’t work me so hard, Captain, I been used to light work. O captain, captain, I ain’t used to no hard work. O captain, captain, Won’t you be light on me? [95] O captain, captain, If you be light on me, When I git back home I won’t be hard on you. O captain, captain, Where we gonna work? “Oh, we goin’ down the road, Pick and shovel dirt.” O captain, captain, call me An’ I didn’ hear; Captain took me back To bodyguard. O Lawd, captain, captain, On the side of the bank, Lawd, Lawd, buddy, I’m too tired to work. O captain, captain, I done got too hot Captain, O Lawd, captain, Let po’ Shine rest. Captain, O Lawd, captain, I set down on a bank, O Lawd, captain, captain, Set down on a bank. O captain, captain, I cannot work no longer, ’Cause I’s done, O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd, I’s done. O captain, captain, Po’ boy done got too hot, O Lawd, captain, captain, An’ I couldn’t make it go. Captain, captain, You got letter from my mother, Captain, captain, Read it all the way through. [96] Lawd, she say, “Son, Lawd, come back home.” Lawd, Lawd, she say, “Son, come back home.” Captain, captain, Ain’t got no ready money. Captain, O Lawd, captain, Won’t you loan me some? Sittin’ in dining room, O Lawd, captain, Sittin’ in dining room In yo’ chair. O Lawd, captain, I aint too dumb, Hear yo’ back door slam, Lawd God a-mighty. I got a letter, Letter from my brown. My brown she dyin’, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd. I got a letter, Letter from my rider. My rider was dyin’, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd. Lawd, gonna follow My brown, Lawd, Lawd. Gonna follow my brown To buryin’ groun’. [43]This song and some others in this chapter are excellent illustrations of the chain gang sentiment becoming mixed with ordinary “free labor” gang songs. I’m Goin’ Back Home I can jerry,[44] I can jerry All around the mountain. Lord, I can jerry, I can jerry All the way home. [97] Lord, I see my gal a-comin’, Lord, to bring me my dinner. Lord, I see my gal a-comin’, Lord, I’m goin’ home. Lord, she brought me something, Lord, she brought me something good. Lord, she brought me good dinner, Didn’t know what it was. Lord, I’m gonna buy me rubber-tire hack, Lord, I’m gonna buy me rubber-tire hack, Lord, I’m gonna buy me rubber-tire hack, Goin’ home, take me right back. I’m tired workin’, Lord, Lord, I’m tired workin’. Goin’ buy me rubber-tire hack, Take me back home. Lord, captain standin’, He may hear me sing, Lord, some old day I’m goin’ back home. Lord, I reckon I’ll sell my, Lord, I reckon I’ll sell my rubber-tire hack An’ buy me a Ford, Lord, Buy me a Ford. Lord, captain told me, O Lord, captain told me, Time to go to dinner, Lord, we’re goin’ back home. Lord, I got back home An’ had my dinner. Lord, I went and et, Lord, I got back home. Then ’bout half pas’ one Captain call us all, Say we got a-go back, Lord, say we got a-go back to work. [98] Lord, some o’ these mornings, Lord, some o’ these mornings, Captain ain’t gonna hear me sing ’Cause I’m goin’ back home. Sunshine in my back door, Lord, sunshine in my back door, Some o’ these mornings, Lord, captain, I’m goin’ back home. Lord, my gal cryin’ all day, Lord, my gal cryin’ all day. Lord, she made a pallet on floor ’Cause she’s feelin’ right bad. Captain say, “O Shine, When you go home, Say, Shine, you comin’ back?” Yes, captain, O Lord, captain. Yonder come my girl, Comin’ down the track. Bring me good cool water, Keep cool all day long. I got sun low ’cross the field, I got sun low ’cross the field plowin’. Lord, Lord, he tol’ me, O Lord, it was too hot. Lord, took out the mules, Lord, I took out my mules An’ went straight home, ’Cause it was too hot. [44]The meaning of this expression is uncertain. In other songs it appears as “Hikin’ Jerry” or “Mike and Jerry.” There is a tradition among the Negro workers that two large mules, named Mike and Jerry, broke loose from their driver and hiked a remarkable distance in one day. If this was the origin of the song, then “I can Jerry” is a result of misunderstanding. My Home Ain’t Here, Captain H-e-y- L-a-w-d, Lawd, Lawd, O Lawd, Lawd, captain. My home ain’t here, captain, An’ I ain’t got to stay. I’m goin’ back home, captain, I’m long time sinner, goin’ back home. [99] Ol’ Aunty Dinah had candy wagon, I ast her could I be her driver. Lawd, Lawd, tol’ me “No,” Lawdy, Lawd, tol’ me “No.” O captain, captain, what’s matter now? Ain’t thing matter, but I ain’t gwine. Woke up dis mornin’ ’bout half pas’ fo’, Cap’n call me, but I jes’ ain’t gonna go. O Lawd, captain, captain, How long you gonna hold dis job? Lawd, captain you look jes’ lak new man Comin’, Lawd, on dis job. Cap’n, captain, will you send me some water, Ain’t had none since dis long mornin’. All I hate ’bout captain, Lawd, He want to take me by de tent. Captain, captain, do you drink co’n liquor? “Yes, by God, but I ain’t got none now.” Captain, captain, when you go to town, Bring me back a God-damn dram. Captain, captain, I won’t let on, Lawdy, O Lawdy, captain, I won’t let on. O Lawd, captain, captain, O Lawd, Won’t you let me go home? Captain tol’ me I have to wait, O Lawd, till I work out my time. Captain call me an’ I laugh, Cap’n get shoe shine off my britches. O captain, don’t think hard of me, O Lawd, captain, I don’t mean no harm. Captain, captain, don’t mean no harm, Jes’ won’t carry on no fun. [100] Captain, what kin’ o’ state you come from? Come from country or come from town? Captain say, “I come out o’ town, Lawdy, I’ll lay yo’ body down.” Captain, captain, you look mo’ lak farmer Than you look lak guard man. Captain, I’ll Be Gone O Lawd, captain, hurry, hurry? Captain, you can’t take my time. What’s the use o’ hurryin’? ’Cause I got a life time. Captain, captain, what time o’ day? Captain, captain, what time o’ day? Say he look at Waterbury, Throw his watch away. Lawd, captain, captain, did you hear, Lawd, captain, did you hear about it? All your men gonna leave you, All your men gonna leave you on next pay day. On next pay day, Lawd, On next pay day, Lawd. Captain, all your men gonna be gone On next pay day. Captain gonna call me some of these mornings, Lawd, I’m gonna be gone. Captain gonna call me, go back home, Lawd, Lawd, I’ll be gone. Wake up one mornin about half pas’ fo’, Ask captain could I git drink of water. Wake up one mornin’ about half pas’ fo’, Ask captain could I git drink of water. Captain tol’ me to git my pick and shovel, Git on down the line. Captain tol’ me to git my pick and shovel, Git on down the line. [101] Lawd, captain carried me to the road, Tol’ me I had to work. Tol’ my captain I couldn’t pick and shovel, Captain told me have to carry me back to camp. I ask the captain how long I got. Captain told me git my shovel, Say, “Git on down the line, Lawd, git on down the line.” Say I went to road, captain. Captain put chains all ’round my legs. I tol’ captain no use to chain me, ’Cause ain’t gonna run no mo’. Captain say, “Yes, I know you won’t run, ’Cause I gonna chain you good.” Lawd, say, “Yes, I know you won’t run, ’Cause I gonna chain you good.” Captain, captain, little too hard on me, Lawd, captain little too hard on me. Captain, captain, I’ll be glad to git home; I’ll never come this way no mo’. Captain called water boy, Water boy begun to laugh. Cap’n got shoe shine Off water boy’s pants. Captain mus’ be big, Weighs two-fifty pounds. Captain, Lawd, mus’ be big, Weighs two-fifty pounds. Captain, captain, good long ways, Lawd, captain, come from Chicago. I ask the captain the time of day, Say, “None of you damn business to know.” If I’d A-Known My Cap’n Was Blin’[45] If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’, darlin’, If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’, darlin’, If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’ I wouldn’ a-went to work till ha’f pas’ nine, darlin’. [102] Cap’n, cap’n, you must be cross, darlin’, Cap’n, cap’n, you must be cross, darlin’, Cap’n, cap’n, you must be cross, Five-thirty an’ you won’t knock off, darlin’. When I’m late an’ behin’, darlin’, When I’m late an’ behin’, darlin’, When I’m late an’ behin’, I can’t go to work till ha’f pas’ nine, darlin’. Why I love my cap’n so, darlin’, Why I love my cap’n so, darlin’ Why I love my cap’n so, Ask him for a dollar an’ he give me fo’, darlin’. [45]For music see Chapter XIV. I Tol’ My Cap’n That My Feet Was Col’[46] I tol’ my cap’n that my feet was col’. “God damn yo’ feet, let the car wheel roll.” Cap’n, cap’n, old Ben won’t pull. “God damn his soul, put the harness on the bull.” Cap’n Morgan and Bill Dolin come to line this track, Pick it up and shake it back. Cap’n, cap’n the track is wet. “Knock ’er right on, black boy, till the evenin’ sun do set.” Cap’n, cap’n, can you tell The track is slick and cold as hell? Captain, Captain, Let Wheelers Roll Captain, captain, let wheelers roll, Captain, captain, Lawd, let wheelers roll. Told my captain hands an’ feet wus cold, Say, “You ought-a warm ’em befo’ you come here.” Captain call me early in mo’nin’, Call me to shake six-hoss plow. I told my captain, captain, I could not shake dis plow. [103] O captain, captain, what time you gonna quit? “’Tain’t none o’ yo’ business when I quit.” Gonna buy me ticket, long as my long right arm, Gonna catch dat train call Cannon Ball. Goin’ to Atlanta, gonna spend de night, Gonna catch dat train dey call Western Sight. Goin’ to New York an’ I aint comin’ back, Lawd, I ain’t gonna come back at all. Say, I’m in trouble, Lawd, Lawd, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Say, if you want to see me, Lawd, You’ll have to come where I am. Say, I’m long way off, mama, I ain’t comin’ back at all. Have you ever seen risin’ sun, Seen risin’ sun turn over? Lawd, makes me feel low down, Lawd, lak I’m on my las’ go-’round. Lawd, I hate to see you go, Make me feel so low down. Lawd, Lawd, have you ever seen, Lawd, wild cat hug a lion? Say, hug him so hard, Lawd, Wild cat hug him so hard. Lawd, captain, I’m workin’ on road, An’ I’m in trouble again. Lawd, you won’t come see me, An’ I’m workin’ in chains. Lawd, I’m not comin’ home no mo’, O Lawd, I’m not comin’ home no mo. Now I don’t want you here no mo’, Yo’ hair look lak curry comb. [104] I got brown woman better’n you, Lawd, I don’t want you no mo’. [46]For music see Chapter XIV. ’Way up in the Mountain ’Way up in the mountain Diggin’ coal, All I hates about diggin’ coal, I can’t find my parole. Peach and honey, Rock and rye, You can line track If you try. Goin’ up Church Street, Comin’ down Main, Huntin’ for a woman That ain’t got no man. Trottin’ Liza, She come a-trottin’ By one this mornin’ With ’er head rag on. Blues on my mind, Blues all ’round my head. I dream last night That the man I love was dead. I went to the graveyard, Fell down on my knees. I ask the grave-digger To give me back my railroad man. The grave-digger, He looked me in the eye and said, “I’m sorry to tell you, But yo’ good man is dead.” Thirty days in jail With my back turned to the wall. Please, Mr. Jailer, Put another man in my stall. [105] I don’t mind stayin’ there But I got to stay so long, so long, Ever’ friend I had Done shook hands an’ gone.[47] [47]This stanza and the preceding one are also found in a popular song, Jail-House Blues. Don’t You Give Me No Cornbread I don’t want no cornbread, black molasses, Supper time, O my Lawd, supper time. Don’t you give me cornbread, black molasses, Supper time, O my Lawd, my supper time. Don’t let the ’gaiter Beat you to the pone, Give you mo’ trouble Than days done gone. Put ’em up solid An’ they won’t come down. When I gets in Illinois I won’t be bothered with the lowland boys. John the Baptist, he declare That none but the righteous Will be there In the mornin’, oh, when I rise. I got a woman On Jennielee Square; If you would die easy, Let me ketch you there. The reason I stay With captain so long, Ever’ morning he give me Biscuits to rear back on. Little Evaline Sittin’ in the shade, Figurin’ on the money I done made. [106] Captain got a lugger Tryin’ to play bad, I’m goin’ to take it in the mornin’ If he makes me mad. July’s for the Red-bug July’s for the red-bug, August for the fly, I’m diggin’ for the bottom, Bottom must be dry. I ask my captain What was the time of day. Captain got so mad, Threw his watch away. I told my captain, Captain, my feet was cold. “Doggone your feet, Lawd, Let the wheelbar’ roll.” I told my captain, Just to keep down trouble, I reckon I must obey. Here come the chain gang boss. But after all there are no workaday songs superior to the gang songs, heave-a-horas, steel-driving songs, short pick-and-shovel songs, and the scores of other short specimens which accompany special tasks requiring hard work, team unison, or continuous effort. There is, of course, no attempt here to present even an approach to exhaustive lists. We have so far found no intimation of where the number of such songs will stop. But the examples which follow are adequate to continue the portraiture of the Negro as he works and as he sings. [107] Boys, Put Yo’ Hands on It O boys, put yo’ hands on it, O boys, put yo’ hands on it, When I say go, boys, go! O boys, put yo’ hands on it, O boys, when I holler set it on time, Everybody goes around. Say pick up, boys, pick up high, Goin’ line that track steel, O boys, pick it up high. Say, boys, when you get back here, Pick up that steel, Say, put your hands on it. Say, boys, put your hands on it, Everybody goin’ to jump at it. Set it in the bed, boys. Say, boys, raise your hand higher, Says, boys, raise your hand higher, Everybody goin’ to jump at it. Never Turn Back[48] No mo’, oh, no mo’! No mo’, oh, never no mo’! My Lord Be here. I will never Turn back, Never turn back No mo’, no mo’. If you get there Befo’ I do, Oh, you can tell ’em I’m comin’ too. I will never turn back, Never turn back no mo’. [108] An’ I would never turn back, Never turn back no mo’. Jesus my all To heaven is gone, An’ whom may I fix My hopes upon? No mo’, no mo’, No mo’, never, my Lawd, I would never turn back, Never turn back no mo’. [48]Here a spiritual theme is used as a gang song. No More No—more, No—more, No—more, O—Lord. O—Lord, O—Lord, O—Lord, No—more, I’m—through, I’m—through, I’m—through, O—Lord. O—Lord, O—Lord, O—Lord, I’m—through. I’m—tired, I’m—tired, I’m—tired, O—Lord. O—Lord, O—Lord, O—Lord, I’m—tired. [109] I’m—goin’, I’m—goin’, I’m—goin’, O—Lord. O—Lord, O—Lord, Yes, O—Lord, I’m—tired. All Right All—right, O—Lord, All—right, Push—on. All—right, O—Lord, Let’s—go, Little—mo’. All—right, O—Lord, Get—it—over, Let’s—go. All—right, O—Lord, Get—around—it—boys, Let’s—go. All—right—boys, Pick—it—up, Gang—around—it, Let’s—go. Help Me Drive ’Em[49] O King’s Mountain, O King’s Mountain, O King’s Mountain, So high! [110] O run here, buddy, O run here, buddy, O run here, buddy, O boy! O help me drive ’em, O help me drive ’em, O help me drive ’em, All day! [49]This is an example of a steel-driving song. As the driver raises his hammer he sings a line, then stops singing for a moment, brings the hammer down with a grunt, then sings another line, and so on. The technique is the same as the digging technique described in some detail in Chapter XIV. I Belong to Steel-drivin’ Crew O shake ’em up, buddy, An’ I’ll drive ’em down; O shake ’em up, buddy, An’ I’ll drive ’em down; I belong to steel-drivin’ crew, Lawd, I belong to steel-drivin’ crew. O lovin’ buddy, Where you been so long? O lovin’ buddy, Where you been so long? I belong to steel-drivin’ crew, Lawd, I belong to steel-drivin’ crew. O Buckeye Rabbit The rabbit run, the rabbit jumped, The rabbit skipped the river. O buckeye rabbit, hey, hey! O buckeye rabbit, Susan! O buckeye rabbit, hey, hey! The rabbit skipped the river! U—h, U—h, Lawdy[50] U—h, u—h, Lawdy, I wonder why I got to live Fer de by an’ de by. [111] U—h, u—h, Lawdy, Don’t you bother me. I’m always mighty happy When I’m on a spree. U—h, u—h, Lawdy, U—h, u—h, Lawdy, U—h, u—h, Lawdy, U—h, Lawdy, u—h, Lawdy, po’ me! [50]This is an example of a pick song, although it could be used, of course, for almost any kind of rhythmic work. For a description of the singing-digging technique see Chapter XIV. This Ol’ Hammer This ol’ hammer, hammer Mus’ be loaded; This ol’ hammer, hammer Mus’ be loaded; This ole’ hammer, hammer Mus’ be loaded; Do bear down, Do bear down. Bitin’ spider, where did You leave Trottin’ Sallie? Bitin’ spider, where did You leave Trottin’ Sallie? Bitin’ spider, where did You leave Trottin’ Sallie? In Birmingham, O Lawd, In Birmingham. We Are Clambin’ Jacob’s Ladder[51] Get ’em over yonder, Get ’em long, Get ’em short. Lord, get ’em over yonder, Get ’em over yonder. We are clambin’, clambin’ Jacob’s ladder, Jacob’s ladder. Oh, we are clambin’ Jacob’s ladder, Almos’ home, yes, almos’ home. Every little roun’ gets[112] Higher and higher, Higher and higher. Every little roun’ gets higher and higher, Almos’ home, home, almos’ home. [51]Here a theme from a spiritual is made to do service as a pick song. Reason I Stay on Job So Long[52] Reason I stay on job so long, Lawd, dey gimme flamdonies An’ coffee strong. Reason I love my captain so, ’Cause I ast him for a dollah, Lawd, he give me fo’. Reason why I love Boleen, She keeps my house An’ shanty clean. Why I like Roberta so, She rolls her jelly Like she do her dough. [52]For music see Chapter XIV. Hot Flambotia an’ Coffee Strong Reason I stay on job so long, Oh, reason I stay on job so long, O Lawd, reason I stay on job so long: Hot flambotia an’ coffee strong. Hot flambotia an’ coffee strong, Yes, Lawd, hot flambotia an’ coffee strong. O Lawd, hot flambotia an’ coffee strong, Reason I stay on job so long. I’m Goin’ On[53] I’m gonna row here, I’m gonna row here, I’m gonna row here few days longer, Then, Lawd, I’m goin’ on. [113] Oh, I’m gonna row here, Lawd, I’m gonna row here, Yes, Lawd, I’m gonna row here few days longer, Then I’m goin’ on. Yes, Lawd, I’m goin’ on, Then, Lawd, I’m goin’ on, Yes, Lawd, I’m gonna row here few days longer, Then I’m goin’ on. [53]This song has been heard also as “I’m on road here few days longer” and “I’m gonna roll here few days longer.” “Row” may well be a corruption of “road” or “roll.” I Don’t Want No Trouble With de Walker[54] I don’t want no, Want no trouble with de walker. I don’t want no, Want no trouble with de walker. I wanta go home, Lawd, Lawd, I wanta go home. Oh, me an’ my buddy Jes’ came here this mornin’. Wanta go home, Lawd, Lawd, wanta go home. I can drive it, Drive it long as anybody. Wanta go home, Lawd, Lawd, wanta go home. Cap’n, did you hear about, Hear about two your womens gonna leave you? Wanta go home, Lawd, Lawd, wanta go home. I’m gonna roll here,[55] Roll here a few days longer. I’m goin’ home, Lawd, Lawd, I’m goin’ home. [114] Cap’n an’ walker, Walker been raisin’ san’. Cap’n told walker He could git ’im another man. Lawd, dey got my buddy, Buddy an’ his forty-fo! Next ’lect’ocution Dey’ll git him sho’. [54]This is a pick song commonly heard around Chapel Hill, N. C. The “walker” refers to the walking boss or overseer on the job. The first two lines of each stanza are repeated as shown in the first stanza. For music see Chapter XIV. [55]See footnote, p. 112. I Don’t Want No Cornbread[56] I don’t want no,[57] Want no cornbread, peas, an’ molasses; I don’t want no, Want no cornbread, peas, an’ molasses, At supper time, Lawd, Lawd, at supper time. Oh, hand me down a Can o’ corn an’ tomatoes, For my meal, Lawd, Lawd, for my meal. My little woman, She don’t treat me like she used to. No she don’t, Lawd, Lawd, no she don’t. She used to feed me, Feed me on biscuits an’ butter For my meal, Lawd, Lawd, for my meal. She used to give me, Give me lots o’ huggin’ every mornin’. Now she don’t, Lawd, Lawd, now she don’t. [56]This is sung to the same tune as the preceding song, I Don’t Want No Trouble With the Walker, the music of which is given in Chapter XIV. [57]All of the stanzas have this form, first two lines always repeated. [115] Turning from the songs of construction or railroad gangs, some of the mixed songs, partly remnants of former years, partly products of sophistication, may be cited. There are many songs about the white man and the captain, excellent samples of which have already been cited in this chapter. Some were given in The Negro and His Songs and many more are to be found. Indeed, songs about the white man may well constitute a separate chapter in a later volume. A stock joke among the older Negroes used to be that of telling how the white man always brought “nigger out behind.” The modern singer, albeit not always in joking mood, still thrusts “at” his “captain” or “boss” or “white man.” “Captain,” he sings, “you look mo’ lak farmer than railroad man,” and with considerable glee asks, “Captain, captain, where’d you come frum?” On the other hand, reminiscent of farm days and echoing current life, he still sings: Niggers plant the cotton, Niggers pick it out, White man pockets money, Niggers does without. In another song the Negro complained that no matter if he worked all the time, “Boss sho’ bring nigger out behin’.” So now in some Georgia scenes he sings: Nothin’ to Keep Up at fo’ ’clock, Work till dark, Wages han,’ I’m de man. Twelve a month an’ boa’d, Lawd, twelve a month an’ boa’d. Hope I die, Mo’ I try, I comes out [116] Owin’ boss mo’, I comes out, Lawd, owin’ boss mo’. Plenty to eat, Place to sleep, All night to stray about; But nothin’ fer a feller, Lawd, nothin’ fer A feller to keep. Everybody Call Me the Wages Man Early in the spring I’m plowin’ my lan’, Early in the spring I’m plowin’ my lan’, Early in the spring I’m plowin’ my lan’, Everybody calls me the wages man, Baby, baby. Next down de row with guano horn, Next down de row with guano horn, Next down de row with guano horn, Never work so hard since I’ve been born, Baby, baby. Little bit later I swings de hoe, Little bit later I swings de hoe, Little bit later I swings de hoe, I’se de nigger dat leads de row, Baby, baby, baby. Sack an’ basket all that I pick, Sack an’ basket all that I pick, Sack an’ basket all that I pick, Never stop for nothin’, even if you sick, Baby, baby. White man in starched shirt settin’ in shade, White man in starched shirt settin’ in shade, White man in starched shirt settin’ in shade, Laziest man that God ever made, Baby, baby. [117] Missus in de Big House Missus in de big house, Mammy in de yard. Missus holdin’ her white hands, Mammy workin’ hard, Mammy workin’ hard, Mammy workin’ hard. Missus holdin’ her white hands, Mammy workin’ hard. Ol’ marse ridin’ all time, Niggers workin’ ’roun’. Marse sleepin’ day time, Niggers diggin’ in de groun’, Niggers diggin’ in de groun’, Niggers diggin’ in de groun’. Marse sleepin’ day time, Niggers diggin’ in de groun’. [118] CHAPTER VII JUST SONGS TO HELP WITH WORK In some respects it is unfortunate that classification of the Negro workaday songs must be attempted, for, strictly speaking, accurate classification is not possible. There is much overlapping apparent in most of the best types. There are mixed pictures in the majority and a cross index would be necessary for any sort of complete analysis. And yet the total picture is clearer when the songs are grouped according to prevailing themes, as has been done in other chapters on the wanderer songs, the bad man ballads, chain gang and jail songs, favorites of the construction gang, songs of woman, songs of man, and religious remnants. In each of these classes it is readily seen that there is abundance of new material of great value. And yet, after these attempts at classification, there are scores of songs, some the favorites of the present day, some among the most attractive, which appear best as simple work songs, sung as an integral physical part of the Negro’s workaday efforts. These songs are not simply the “miscellaneous” and “all others” group. They are more than that; they are the songs for song’s sake, expression for expression’s sake, and “hollerin’ jes’ to he’p me wid my work.” This chapter, therefore, presents a varied group of songs, many of which, for simple spontaneity, imagery, and creative art might well represent the choice of the collection. Among these are the lyric types like those quoted in Chapter I, figures of a “rainbow ’round my[119] shoulders,” the “feet rollin’ lak a wheel,” the winter song in summer, and many other fragments of similar quality. There are fragments, pick-and-shovel songs, driving songs, mostly short, which are sung perhaps more often than any others by the group of workers. This chapter will present, first, some of the miscellaneous and more artistic songs that are most difficult to classify except as “just songs to help with work.” Then will follow certain types, corruptions from blues, jazz and minstrel, but sung on any and all occasions, one as well as another, in the kitchen, on the road, in the field, in the alley, in the barber shop, or on the street. Then, finally, there will be the group of incoherent words and lines, senseless for the most part and merely expressive of feeling and effort. In addition to these there are still more than one hundred miscellaneous songs, improvisations, fragments and other collected items which must await a special collection of this sort. One of the most attractive of all the work songs is Mule on the Mountain, in which the title constitutes the bulk of the song. It is a pick-and-shovel favorite repeated over and over with variations and exclamations. The simplest form of this song is as follows: Mule on the Mountain Mule on mountain Called Jerry, I can ride ’im Any time I want to; Lawd, I can ride ’im Any time I want to. In the following version this simple stanza has taken seven others for companions, thus making a lengthy pick song. [120] I Got a Mulie[58] I got a mulie, Mulie on the mountain, call ’im Jerry. I got a mulie, Mulie on the mountain, call ’im Jerry. I can ride ’im, Ride ’im any time I want to, Lawd, Lawd, all day long. Lawd, this ol’ mountain, Mountain must be hanted, My light goes out, Lawd, Lawd, my light goes out. I’m gonna buy me, Buy me a magnified lantern. ’Twon’t go out, Lawd, Lawd, won’t go out. I’m gonna buy me, Buy me a winchester rifle, Box o’ balls, Lawd, Lawd, box o’ balls. I gonna back my, Back myself in the mountains To play bad, Lawd, Lawd, to play bad. Mike an’ Jerry[59] Must be a gasoline burner; Didn’t stop here, Lawd, Lawd, didn’t stop here. Mike an’ Jerry Hiked from Jerome to Decatur[60] In one day, Lawd, Lawd, in one day. [121] Didn’t stop here, Lawd, To get no coal, neither water, Hiked on by, Lawd, Lawd, hiked on by. [58]For music see Chapter XIV. [59]See footnote, p. 96. [60]Probably refers to Rome and Decatur, Georgia. The distance between these two places is about a hundred miles, a pretty good “hike” for the mules if they made it in one day! Very much after the same manner and type is the pick-and-shovel song, Lookin’ over in Georgia, which apparently has nothing specific as its historical base and no more sense to it than Mule on the Mountain. And yet it is one of the prettiest of Negro songs when accompanied by group movement, rhythm, and harmony. Lookin’ Over in Georgia Well I can stan’, Lookin’ ’way over in Georgia; Well I can stan’, Lookin’ ’way over in Georgia; Well I can stan’, Lookin’ ’way over in Georgia, O-eh-he, Lawd, Lawd, She’s burnin’ down, Lawd, she’s burnin’ down. For sheer artistry, however, one would have to search a long time to find a superior to the following verses, sung by a young Negro workingman, on platform and swing, washing the brick walls of a newly constructed university building. Bear Cat Down in Georgia I’ll be back here, I’ll be back here, Lawd, Lawd, I’ll be back here. Bear cat, Lawd, Bear cat, Lawd, Turn to lion Down in Georgia. [122] Look-a yonder, Look-a yonder, Lawd, Lawd, Down in Georgia. Ever see bear cat Turn to lion, Lawd, Lawd, Down in Georgia? My ol’ bear cat, My ol’ bear cat Turn to lion, Lawd, Lawd, Lawd. Ever see a bear cat Hug a lion, Lawd, Lawd, Down in Georgia? If I make it, If I make it, Lawd, Lawd, Down in Georgia. Lord, I been fallin’, Lord, I been fallin’, Lawd, Lawd, From my place. ’Fo’ long, Lawd, Yes, ’fo’ long, Lawd, I’ll be back here, I’ll be back here. Scarcely less mixed and informal is the delightful song Shoot that Buffalo sung in low undertone suitable to any sort of work such as digging, cutting, laying rock, unloading coal or gravel, or doing domestic duties. The melody of this “song just to help with work” is presented in Chapter XIV. [123] Shoot That Buffalo Went down to Raleigh, Never been there befo’, White folks on the feather-bed, Niggers on the flo’. Chorus: Shoot that buffa-, Shoot that -lo, Shoot that buffalo. Went down to low groun’ To gather up my corn, Raccoon sot the dogs on me, ’Possum blowed his horn. Las’ year was a bad crop year, Ev’ybody knowed it. I didn’t make but a bushel o’ corn An’ some damn rascal stoled it. I had ol’ back-band, It was made out o’ leather; Kept me all the doggone time Keepin’ it sewed together. One of the bad man songs listed in Chapter IV was Dupree, of which two versions were presented. The following song was sung by a young Negro recently from the chain gang. It purports to be a song made up by Dupree while in prison. As a matter of fact it is a composite jumble composed largely while being sung. It illustrates well the general situation in which any song of any sort will do just as well as any other. Dupree’s Jail Song I don’t want no coal-black woman for my regular, Give me brown, Lawd, Lawd, give me brown. Black woman study evil, That’s why I want brown, yes, yes, give me brown. [124] I’m gonna roll here a few days longer, Then I’m goin’ home, yes, then I’m goin’ home. Don’t you hear those rein-deers cryin’? But it ain’t gonna rain, no, no, ain’t gonna rain. If it rain I can’t see Betty, That’s why it ain’t gonna rain. Every mail day I get a letter Saying, “Daddy, come home, yes, yes, daddy, come home.” Some of these days I’ll see Betty, An’ it won’t be long, no, no, it won’t be long. If I could see her just one mo’ time, My mind would be changed all the time. The jailer told Dupree, “Just be good,” And he surely would, yes, yes, he surely would. Dupree was the best man in the pen Just to get that thing, yes, yes, that thing. Another illustration of the common promiscuity of these current songs adapted as a part of the physical effort of work is the following mongrel song of the self-styled bad man who mixes metaphors and lines to his own satisfaction. I’m Goin’ out West When you see me comin’ Wid my new shine on, ’Cause I got my col’-iron burner[61] Under my ol’ left arm. Lawd, I goin’ out West, Goin’ out ’mongst the robbers. Say, if I don’t get back, Lawd, don’t worry at all. [125] ’Cause the Western men call theirself bad, ’Cause the Western men call theirself bad. Say, when they get unruly, Say, I got their water on. Say, my gal lay down, Lay down and cried ’Cause I’s goin’ out West, But I’m satisfied. Say, I grab an’ hug an’ kiss her, Say, don’t worry at all, ’Cause I’m goin ’way from here, Goin’ to kill some rowdy men. I reach down an’ kiss my gal, Kiss an’ hug her all day long, Lawd, she make me so much worry I had to leave home. [61]That is, his pistol. The selections that follow are typical of the large number of miscellaneous songs of almost every imaginable mixture and variety. They are examples of corruptions and also of the song-making process and of the insignificance of words and meaning in the workaday song. Julia Long O Lawd, Aunt Julia! Julia Long, Julia Long! O Lawd, Aunt Julia! Julia Long, Julia Long. Julia Long, dead and gone, Julia Long, Julia Long! O Lawd, Aunt Julia! Julia Long, Julia Long! Julia Long I used to know, Julia Long, Julia Long. O Lawd, Aunt Julia! Julia Long, Julia Long! [126] Turn Yo’ Damper Down When you see me comin’ Raise yo’ winder high, When you see me leavin’ Hang yo’ head an’ cry. I got lovin’ Way a rabbit hug a houn’, An’ if you two-time me, daddy, Turn yo’ damper down. Casey Jones[62] Casey was goin’ about ninety-four, An’ he forgot to blow. Casey told the fireman he’d better jump, For there’s two locomotives that’s about to bump. Chorus: Casey Jones, marchin’ to the cabin, Marchin’ to the cabin with the orders in his hand. Casey said before he died, “Three mo’ roads I want to ride.” The fireman ask him what could they be, “Southern Pacific an’ the Santa Fe.” Casey told his children, “Go to bed and hush your cryin’, You have another papa On the Salt Lake Line.” [62]Casey Jones is still heard occasionally. The version given here is somewhat below par, but represents the sort of thing a worker is likely to sing. Note that Casey wants to ride “three mo’ roads,” but names only two. Also, in the last stanza, Casey, instead of his wife, is represented as speaking to the children. Wash My Overhalls Wash my overhalls, Search my overhalls, Starch my overhalls, Wash ’em clean, ’Cause I’m goin’ to ketch de train. [127] Listen at dis fireman blow de train. If I don’t ring dat bell, You ring it fer yo’self; If you don’t ring it, Won’t be no fault o’ mine. Dove Came Down by the Foot of My Bed Dove came down by the foot of my bed, By the foot of my bed, By the foot of my bed, Dove came down by the foot of my bed, And he carried the news that I was dead. I’m going away one day before long, One day before long, One day before long. I’m going away one day before long, And I won’t be back before judgment day. If you don’t believe I’ve been redeemed, I’ve been redeemed, I’ve been redeemed. If you don’t believe I’ve been redeemed, Just follow me down by Jordan stream. Dig my grave and dig it deep, Dig it deep, Dig it deep. Dig my grave and dig it deep, And cover me up with a linen sheet. Tell my mother if she wants to see me, If she wants to see me, If she wants to see me, Tell my mother if she wants to see me, She must ride that horse in the battlefield. He Wus de Gov’nor of Our Clan He wus de gov’nor of our clan, He wus a rough-an’-tumble man, He wus a rough-an’-tumble man. He pull his pistol an’ a feller drap, He make his money playin’ crap, He make his money playin’ crap. [128] I Got Chickens on My Back I got chickens on my back, An’ the white folks on my track, I am hunting for a shanty, God knows, nobody knows. I am hunting for a shanty, God knows, nobody knows. I Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Make a Fool Out o’ Me I’ve been all over the U. S. A., I’ve seen most everything; I’ve shot craps with the president, Played cards with the queen and king. But I ain’t gonna let nobody, Nobody make a fool out o’ me. If you give your gal everything she needs, You will spend the winter in your B. V. D.’S. I ain’t gonna let nobody, Nobody make a fool out o’ me. On My Las’ Go-’Round[63] I had it in my head to join the U. S. A., But instead of gettin’ better I got still worse. Every time I hear some church bell ringin’, I begin to think I was on my las’ go-’round. O I believe I am on, I think I am on, I know I am on my las’ go-’round. So when I am dead, wear no black, When Gable blows his trumpet I’ll rush on back. [63]There are now popular songs entitled Last Go-’Round Blues and I’m on My Last Go-’Round, but they do not resemble this song. For an older version, see The Negro and His Songs, p. 180. Berda, You Come too Soon O Lord, Berda, you come too soon, Found a man in my saloon. Berda walked out screamin’ an cryin’, Girls on front street skippin’ an’ flyin’. Berda, you come too soon, Berda, you come too soon. [129] Rain or Shine I hoes an’ I plows In all kinds o’ weather, I got to keep a-goin’ ’Cause I can’t do no better. Rain or shine, Sleet or snow, When I gits done dis time, Won’t work no mo’. Empty or full, Sleep or ’wake, I’m gwine to de party, Dance fer dat cake. Who’s Goin’ to Buy Your Whiskey? Who’s goin’ to buy your whiskey When I’m gone away from you? Who’s goin’ to do your holdin’ When I’m gone from you, Lawd, Lawd? Who’s goin’ to bring you chicken From the white folks’ house When I’m gone away from you? You Calls Me in de Mornin’ You me in de mornin’, You calls me in de night, An’ you is de cause o’ me Losin’ my life. My home ain’t here, I don’t have to stay. When I leaves don’t wear no black, Do, I sho’ gonna come creepin’ back, Do, I sho’ gonna come creepin’ back. Dig-a My Grave Wid a Silver Spade Dig-a my grave wid a silver spade, Let me down wid a golden chain. Oh, who’s gonna dig-a my grave? Let me down wid a golden chain. Yonder come mudder, Look lak mudder comin’ on. Oh, who’s gonna dig-a my grave? [130] Yonder Come de Devil Yonder come de devil, Yonder come de devil, Ketch him, devil, ketch him, Ketch him, devil, ketch him. He done sin, he done sin, He done sin, he done sin. Ketch him, devil, ketch him, Ketch him, devil, ketch him. Dem Turrible Red Hot Blues[64] Nothin’ new, Her name wuz Sue, I got de turrible Red hot blues, Oh, dem turrible red hot blues. I got a pal, This gal is Sal, Bofe got de turrible red hot blues, Oh, dem turrible red hot blues. [64]Compare Red Hot Blues, a popular phonograph and sheet music piece. Das ’Nough Said Hit rains, hit hails, Different sorts o’ wedder, Hit rains, hit hails, Wusser de better. Steal up to de back do’ Den on to de bed, Lawsy, lawsy, mister, Das ’nough said. Diamond Joe Diamond Joe wants a sack of flour, Diamond Joe wants a sack of flour, Diamond Joe he don’t work by de hour. Drive on, Diamond Joe. Sometimes he works in de country, Sometimes he works in de town, Sometimes he has a good notion To jump in de river an’ drown. Drive on, Diamond Joe. [131] He Run Me In Talkin’ ’bout yo’ ghosts, let me tell: I thought I drapped dat nigger in dat well But he run me in, yes, Lawd, he run me in. ’Tain’t no fun I’s here to tell When a dead nigger gits out’n an ol’ fiel’ well An’ runs me in, yes, Lawd, he run me in. He ain’t got no arms, he ain’t got no haid, I didn’t stop an’ count dem tracks I made, ’Cause he run me in, yes, Lawd, he run me in. I believes in a ghost an’ I believes in a hant Dis here nigger sho’ ain’t no saint, ’Cause he run me in, yes, Lawd, he run me in. De Goat’s Got a Smell De goat’s got a smell, De skunk’s got a stink, But de black gal Got a ’culiar odor. De black gal, de balmoral, Dey bofe got a ’culiar odor. Goodby Sookie Goodby, Sookie, good by, Sal, You struts about in dat balmoral. Goodby, Sookie, good by, Sal I’s leavin’ dis hot town wid dat yallow gal. Out in de Cabin Out in de cabin, banjo pickin’ low; Out in de cabin, banjo pickin’ low. Up in de big house, singin’ soft an’ low; Up in de big house dancin’ to an’ fro. I lubs my missus, I lubs ol’ marse; I lubs my white folks mo’ an’ mo’, Mo’ an’ mo’. [132] Darlin’ Get on de Road Darlin’, when you see me comin’, Hang your head an’ cry. When you see me leavin’, Get on the road. Darlin’, get on the road, Darlin’, get on the road. When you see me cryin’, Hang you head in shame. When you see me smilin’, You know I am the same. So let us get on the road, Darlin’, get on the road. I’m Gonna Have Me a Red Ball All My Own Lawd, lissen, I believe I go to town An’ ketch the Red Ball.[65] An’ I walked up to get in. What you reckin’ the man said to me? “No nigger can ride the Red Ball.” So I turned around an’ went back home An’ began to paint my face. But I forgot to paint my neck an’ hands. So I went back an’ tried him again. Didn’t have no luck. An’ I’m Gonna get me a mule an’ name him Red Ball, An’ I can ride just the same. I’m gonna have me a Red Ball all my own. [65]A fast freight train. Great Scots, You Don’t Know What to Do Bull frog sittin’ on mantel-piece, Great scots, you don’t know what to do, Clapped his hand in a pan of grease, Great scots, you don’t know what to do. I’m going down in new town to live. [133] Look out, ladies, let him by, You don’t know what to do, Here he comes with a greasy eye, Great scots, you don’t know what to do. I’m going down in new town to live. Chicken Never Roost too High fo’ Me[66] Ol’ massa’s chicken Live in the tree, Chicken never roost Too high fo’ me. Went out strollin’, See what I can see. Chicken never roost Too high fo’ me. Ever since the Yankee Set-er me free, Chicken never roost Too high fo’ me. They think the old lady An’ me agree. Chicken never roost Too high fo’ me. I’s in jail, Not long till I’m free, Chicken never roost Too high fo’ me. [66]In a somewhat different version, this song was popular as a minstrel some twenty years ago. Stewball Was a Racer[67] Stewball was a racer, Mollie was too. My mist’iss bets by hundred, My master bets by thousands. [134] I bet you mo’ cash money Ol’ Stewball won. Run on, ol’ Stewball, Mollie done run. [67]This is a fragment of a song, Skewball, which used to be almost an epic among the Negroes. Its origin probably goes back to an old Irish song. For a discussion of this point, see Scarborough, On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs, pp. 61-4. Shanghai Rooster Shanghai rooster done lost all his feathers, Shanghai pullet eat by her betters. You gits de gizzard, I eats the breast, Got to save the preacher all the rest. Chicken wid a preacher don’t stand no show, When the preacher is about chicken gotta go. Went over to fishin’ on a little stream, All I got is a nod and dream. Catch Miss Catfish by the snout, Led Miss Catfish all about. [135] CHAPTER VIII MAN’S SONG OF WOMAN There is probably no theme which comes nearer being common to all types of Negro songs than the theme of the relation of man and woman. It is the heart and soul of the blues. The Negro bad man is often pictured as being bad because of a woman. The jail and chain gang songs abound in plaintive references to woman and sweetheart, and the worker in railroad gang and construction camp often sings to his “cap’n” about his woman. Likewise, in the songs of woman, man plays the leading rôle. These man and woman songs are of such significance that special attention must be given to them as a type of Negro song in order to round out the picture of Negro workaday life which this volume is trying to present. In this chapter and the one following, therefore, there have been brought together examples of songs which deal primarily with the relation of the sexes. Conflicts, disagreements, jealousies and disappointments in the love relation have ever been productive of song. They are the chief source of “hard luck” songs or blues, and the Negro’s naïve way of singing of his failure and disappointments in love is what has made the blues famous. Sometimes his songs portray vividly, often with a sort of martyr-like satisfaction, his difficulties with women. At times his song is defiant. At other times it is merely a complaint. Again, it is despondent, in which case he is going “to jump in the rivuh an’ drown” or “drink some pizen down” or do[136] something else calculated to make the woman sorry that she mistreated him. Some of the “hard luck” stories of the Negro man are told in the following group of songs. Lawd, She Keep on Worryin’ Me Lawd, Lawd, she keep on worryin’ me, Lawd, captain, she keep on worryin’ me. Lawd, she cry all night long, Lawd, Lawd, she cry all night long. Mama, the mo’ I pet her, Lawd, The mo’ I pet her the mo’ she cries. Lawd, I gonna give her mouf full o’ fist An’, Lawd, she won’t cry no mo’. Captain, captain, I don’t bother nobody, Works every day as bes’ I can. Captain, look like you could make her, Lawd, leave me alone. Captain, she say she love me Like school boy love his pie. Lawd, she say I leave her alone, Lawd, ain’t got no friends at all. My Girl She’s Gone and Left Me My girl, she’s gone and left me, She left me all alone, She promised that she would marry me The day that she left home. So kiss me, all you brown skins And all you yellows, too. I would give anything in this wide, wide world Just because I do love you. [137] Brown Gal Baby Done Turn Me Down I’s goin’ down to de rivah, Jump in an’ drown, Dat brown gal baby Done turn me down, Done turn me down. Goin’ down to de drug sto’, Pisen I drink down, Den dey take de news To my baby brown, To my baby brown. Call up de doctah Mighty quick, Tell my brown baby I sho’ is sick, I sho’ is sick. Den my black baby Come hurryin’ ’roun’, She sho’ be sorry She turn me down, She turn me down. I Brung a Gal From Tennessee Ain’t yer heard my po’ story? Den listen to me: I brung a gal from Tennessee Tennessee, Tennessee I brung a gal from Tennessee. Ain’t yer heard my po’ story? Den listen to me: Dat Georgia gal set de police on me. Tennessee, Tennessee, I brung a gal from Tennessee. Don’t Wanta See Her No Mo’ I ain’t never seed her befo’, I ain’t never seed her befo’, I ain’t never seed her befo’, Don’t wanta see her no mo’, baby. [138] She say, “Come on, go to my house,” She say, “Come on, go to my house,” She say, “Come on, go to my house,” She ain’t nuffin but a roust-about, baby. She s’arch my pockets through, She s’arch my pockets through, She s’arch my pockets through, Den say, “I ain’t got no need of you, baby.” Don’t e’r wanta see her no mo’, Don’t e’r wanta see her no mo’, Don’t e’r wanta see her no mo’, Never had seed her befo’, baby. I’s Havin’ a Hell of a Time I’s a-havin’ a hell of a time, I’s a-havin’ a hell of a time, I’s a-havin’ a hell of a time, Livin’ wid dese two women o’ mine. De po’ boy, dey got no mercy at tall, De po’ boy, dey got no mercy at tall, De po’ boy, dey got no mercy at tall, Dey lock in de room, he sets out in de hall. Ain’t gonna stay here no mo’, Ain’t gonna stay here no mo’, Ain’t gonna stay here no mo’, De creepers all ’roun’ my do’. Goin’ back down to Georgia lan’, Goin’ back down to Georgia lan’, Goin’ back down to Georgia lan’, Where women don’t have jes’ one man. Yer don’t haf to have no clo’es, Yer don’t haf to have no clo’es, Yer don’t haf to have no clo’es, De women don’t never lock deir do’s. [139] Lawdy, What I Gonna Do? U—h, Lawdy, what I gonna do? U—h, Lawdy, what I gonna do? U—h, Lawdy, what I gonna do? Been havin’ jes’ ol’ lady, but now I got two, baby! U—h, Lawdy, ol’ lady got rough, U—h, Lawdy, ol’ lady got rough, U—h, Lawdy, ol’ lady got rough, Say, hell in fire, she sho’ got ’nough, baby! U—h, Lawd, ol’ un bring in de meat, U—h, Lawd, ol’ un bring in de meat, U—h, Lawd, ol’ un bring in de meat, Dis new gal of mine she got all de sweet, baby! U—h, Lawdy, dem rations am good, U—h, Lawdy, dem rations am good, U—h, Lawdy, dem rations am good, Have sech a good time, if de ol’ woman would, baby! Some o’ Dese Days Some o’ dese days, Hit won’t be long, Mammy gonna call me An’ I be gone. Some o’ dese nights, An’ I don’t kere, Mammy gonna want me An’ I won’t be here. Some o’ dese days In de by an’ by, You won’t have no’n’ t’eat, Den you gonna cry. Some o’ dese days While I’s here to home, Better feed me an’ pet me, Don’t, I’s gonna roam. [140] You Take de Stockin’, I Take de Sock You take de stockin’, I take de sock, honey, You take de stockin’, I take de sock, baby, You take de stockin’, I take de sock, Take you all night to wind dat clock, honey. You take de garter an’ I take de string, honey, You take de garter an’ I take de string, baby, You take de garter an’ I take de string, You gits de money, I don’t git a thing, honey. You take de slipper, I take de shoe, honey, You take de slipper, I take de shoe, baby, You take de slipper, I take de shoe, I don’t kere now whut you gonna do, honey. You take de boot an’ I take de laig, honey, You take de boot an’ I take de laig, baby, You take de boot an’ I take de laig, You ain’t nuffin but a rotten aig, honey. Pull off Dem Shoes I Bought You A Goin’ up de country, Don’t you wanta go? Git me out my Rag time clo’es. Pull off dem shoes I bought you, Pull off dem socks I bought you, Pull off dat hat I bought you, You know you have mistreated me. Tore up all my clo’es; Pull off dat wig I brung you, Let yo’ devilish head go bal’. B Mary, Mary, when I met you You didn’t have no clo’es at all. Now I ax you kindly, Miss Mary, Give me dem shoes, stockin’s, an’ dat petticoat, An’ dat dress an’ hat, an’ las’ dat wig, An’ let yo’ head go bal’. [141] Mammy-in-Law Done Turn Me Out Keep on a-worryin’, What’s it all about? Mammy-in-law Done turn me out. Don’t bring in no sugar, Don’t bring in no meat, Don’t never bring in Nothin’ to eat. Mammy-in-law done turn me out. Don’t bring in no rations, Don’t bring in no dough, ’Nother man hang around her do’. Mammy-in-law done turn me out. De Women Don’t Love Me No Mo’ De women don’t love me no mo’, I’s a broke man from po’ man’s town. De women don’t love me no mo’, ’Cause I can’t buy her stockin’s an’ a gown, ’Cause I can’t buy her stockin’s an’ a gown. I don’t kere, don’t matter wid me, I don’t love to work no mo’. Got to have money, got to have clo’es, Don’t, a feller can’t make no show. De gal love de money An’ de man love de gal; If dey bofe don’t git what dey wants, It’s livin’ in hell. The Negro man runs true to masculine style when he philosophizes upon the subject of woman. Needless to say, his philosophy is often the result of his failure to get along with the other sex. When he is “down” on womankind the burden of his song is that woman is the cause of most of the trouble in the world. He avows that Woman is a good thing an’ a bad thing, too, They quit in the wrong an’ start out bran’ new. [142] Or he declares that he will never again have anything to do with women: All I hope in dis bright worl’: If I love anybody, don’t let it be a girl. One of his strong points is giving advice to others in order that they may avoid his mistakes. “Listen to me, buddy,” he says, “let me tell you what a woman’ll do.” Don’t never git one woman on yo’ min’, Keep you in trouble all yo’ time. De Woman Am De Cause of It All and the songs immediately following it are typical of the songs of the woman-hater. Dey Got Each and de Other’s Man is as clever a bit of cynicism as one could want. De Woman Am de Cause of It All A De woman am de cause of it all, De woman am de cause of it all, She’s de cause of po’ Adam’s fall, De woman’s de cause of it all. Bill and John fall jes’ de same, Bill and John fall jes’ de same, De onliest difference, dey ain’t got po’ Adam’s name, But de woman am de cause of it all. She strips yo’ pocket book, She strips yo’ pocket book, Den tells de police you a damn crook, De woman am de cause of it all. Workin’ in de gang, ’out no frien’, Workin’ in de gang, ’out no frien’, Nobody comes, brings nuffin’ in, De woman am de cause of it all. [143] B De woman is de cause of it all, She’s de cause of Daddy Adam’s fall. Ol’ Daddy Adam, Ol’ Mudder Eve, Takin’ all dese years to bring in de sheaves. Ol’ Miss Eve didn’t have no showin’ Widout heaps of stags to keep her goin’. If dey’d been twenty stags in de Garden of Eden, De devil and de sarpent sho’d got beaten. If Dere’s a Man in de Moon[68] If dere’s a man in de moon, Dere’s a woman hangin’ roun’. If dere’s a man in de moon, She nag at ’im, I be boun’. Man in de moon, man in de moon, Wonder if dat man’s a coon, Wonder if dat man’s a coon, Wonder if dat man’s a coon, Dat man in de moon. Go fer a walkin’ out at night, See dat woman pickin’ a fight. Man in de moon, man in de moon, Wonder if dat man am a coon, Wonder if dat man am a coon, Wonder if dat man am a coon, Dat roun’ face man in de moon. [68]Probably derived from the song If the Man in the Moon Were a Coon, which was a popular minstrel several years ago. A Vampire of Your Own If you want to have a vampire of your own, Let these loose women alone. Fix up your wife you have at home, An’ you’ll have a vampire of your own. [144] Stop spendin’ your money on other women, An’ your friends, you have not any. Go home at night, treat your own wife right, An’ you’ll have a vampire of your own. Dey Got Each and de Udder’s Man See two passenger trains, Lawd, Runnin’ side by side. See two womens, see two womens, Stan’ an’ talk so long. Bet yo’ life dey got Each and de udder’s man. The Negro man is at his best when he sings of his “gal” or his “baby.” Sometimes his song is boastful of the qualities of his “gal.” Sometimes he compares the merits of the brown girl and the yellow girl or of the black and the yellow and casts his vote for his favorite color. Again, he sings the story of his courtship, and he counts it a never-to-be-too-much-talked-about experience to have been driven away from his sweetheart’s house by an irate father. In My Jane the lover characterizes his “gal” with enviable terseness and humor. My Jane My Jane am a gal dat loves red shoes, My Jane am a gal dat loves silk clo’es. My Jane am a gal what loves plenty money, She can devil a feller till it ain’t even funny. My Jane am a gal dat loves heaps o’ men, Gits what you got an’ dat’s yo’ en’. My Jane am a gal loves to frolic all night, Won’t cook fer a feller, not even a bite. My Jane’s a gal gits all she can, If you ain’t got it, she hunts another man. My Jane am a gal drive a feller to de bad, But Jane’s, hell-o-mighty, bes’ gal I ever had! [145] My Gal’s a High Bo’n Lady My gal she’s a high bo’n lady, She’s dark but not too shady, All de mens fall fer dat High bo’n gal o’ mine! Chorus: She’s a high bo’n baby, She’s a high bo’n lady, She’s a brown dat suits my eye. De mens dey calls her cutie, Dat gal a natural bo’n beauty, All de same I’s in de ring Fer dat high bo’n brown o’ mine. If You Want to See a Pretty Girl Rubber is a pretty thing, You rub it to make it shine. If you want to see a pretty girl, Take a peep at mine, take a peep at mine. Talkin’ about a pretty girl, You jus’ ought-a see mine. She is not so pretty But she is jus’ so fine. She gives me sugar, She gives me lard, She works all the while In the white folks’ yard. Honey Baby If I could lay my head on yo’ sweet breas’, Honey baby, I could fin’ sweet res’. Sweet res’, sweet res’, Honey baby, I could fin’ sweet res’. If I could set down in your lap, Baby mine, I could have a nap. Good nap, sweet nap, Honey baby, I could have a nap. [146] Give Me a Teasin’ Brown If ’twant fer de ter’pin pie And sto’-bought ham, Dese country women Couldn’t git nowhere. Some say, give me a high yaller, I say, give me a teasin’ brown, For it takes a teasin’ brown To satisfy my soul. For some folksies say A yaller is low down, But teasin’ brown Is what I’s crazy about. You Take de Yaller, I Take de Black Yaller gal’s yourn An’ de black gal’s mine, You never can tell When de yaller gal’s lyin’. Give me a chocolate drop, She’s white on de inside, Black on de back. She don’t cause a feller To ride de railroad track. You take yaller, I take de black, Hurry up, nigger, Come out’n dat shack. Dat chocolate Gal am mine. Long, Tall, Brown-skin Girl I’m Alabama boun’, Long, tall, brown-skin girl. I’m Alabama boun’, I’m Alabama boun’. [147] I have a mule to ride To that long, tall, brown-skin girl. I have a mule to ride, I have a mule to ride. She is on the road somewhere, She is a long, tall, brown-skin girl. She is on the road somewhere, She is on the road somewhere. You can leave me here With my long, tall, brown-skin girl. You can leave me here, You can leave me here. I Got a Gal an’ I Can’t Git Her I got a gal an’ I can’t git her, I got a gal an’ I can’t git her, I got a gal an’ I can’t git her, Mammy won’t lemme see ’er, can’t even go wid her. Went to de house, I wus lovin’ sick, Went to de house, I wus lovin’ sick, Went to de house, I wus lovin’ sick, I got over dat spell, Lawd, mighty quick. Daddy had a pistol, mammy had a gun, Daddy had a pistol, mammy had a gun, Daddy had a pistol, mammy had a gun, Totin’ my stuff roun’ de corner, Lawd, wus fun. I Went to See My Gal I went to see my gal at half pas’ fo’ Her ol’ fool daddy met me at de do’. “I come to git a match,” so says, says I. “Write it on yo’ tombstone, by and by.” I kicked up dirt, I kicked up san’, Lawd, I kicked up everything but dry lan’. You ax me did I run?—No, Lawd, I flew. I’s a mighty black nigger, he skeered me blue. [148] Baby, Why Don’t You Treat Me Right I’m goin’ down to the rivuh, I’m goin’ to jump overboard an’ drown, Because the girl I love, I can’t see her all the time. Chorus: Baby, why don’t you treat me right, So that I can love you all the night? Then you will be my sweet little wife. Baby, why don’t you treat me right? I’m coming to see you tomorrow night, I want everything to be just right, I’m coming to get my own, An’ I want that shine to leave you alone. Dey’s Hangin’ ’Roun’ Her Do’ Dey’s a-hangin’ ’roun’ her do’, Dey’s never done dat befo’, Fer she’s wearin’ her aprons low. Lawdy, Lawdy, I don’t wanta go, All dese niggers hang ’roun’ her do’, ’Cause she’s wearin’ ’em hangin’ low. Unfaithfulness in love is another great source of song. “Somebody stole my gal” is a common tale, and the sequel, “I’m gonna git dat man,” is equally common. The “creeper,” the man who “fools wid another man’s woman,” is the most despised of all Negro characters. Says the Negro man, A sarpent crawls on his belly, A cat wallers on his back; De meanest varmint in de worl’ Is de creeper in my shack. In the following group of songs the man pays his respects to the unfaithful woman and to the “creeper.” [149] A Creeper’s Been ’Roun’ Dis Do’ You don’t think I don’t know A creeper’s been ’roun’ dis do’, dis do’. A sarpent crawls on his belly, A cat wallers on his back, De meanest varmint in dis worl’ Is de creeper in my shack. My woman say hit’s her brother, Den say hit’s her daddy, too; If dat midnight creeper don’t stay ’way, I know what I’s gonna do. My han’s am long, My fingers am strong and slim, When I gits through wid dat creeper’s neck Dey won’t be creeps lef’ in him. Dew-drop Mine Keep me, sleep me, close on yo’ heart, Tell me, angel Susie, never mo’ to part. My black baby, you got no wings, But, my black baby, you got better things. Angel mine, you quit lyin’ In de bed wid dat udder man, Dew-drop mine, I’s a cryin’ Fer you, but I’s spyin’. Angel mine, dis I know, You don’t love me no mo’. Dew-drop mine, dis I know, A midnight creeper come in my do’. He Tuck Her Away I sho’ got to fight, I’s got to use de knife, ’Cause dat stray done got my wife. Oh, he tuck her away, he tuck her away. [150] I Got My Man Look out, nigger, hol’ up yo’ han’. Waited long time, but I got my man. You got de gal, I got you, Devil git us bofe ’fore we gits through. Home Again, Home Again[69] Home again, home again, Crazy to git back. When I gets dere, Finds a stray man in my shack, Finds a stray man in my shack, Finds a stray man in my shack, Home again, home again, Finds a stray man in my shack. Home again, home again, Axe handle in de yard, Whales dat nigger over de head. Now I’s workin’ hard, Now I’s workin’ hard, Now I’s workin’ hard, Home again, home again, Now I’s workin’ hard. De chain gang got me, an’ de coal mine, too, But, Lawd, what’s a po’ nigger gonna do When a creeper comes creepin’ in, When a creeper comes creepin’ in, When a creeper comes creepin’ in? Home again, home again, When a creeper comes a-creepin’ in. [69]Cf. Home Again Blues, a popular phonograph piece. I’s Done Spot My Nigger Han’ on my gun, Finger on de trigger, I’s goin’ to jail ’Cause I’s done spot my nigger. [151] My woman done fool me, Everything gone wrong; I ain’t never gonna live To sing dis song. Jedge an’ jury Sentenced me to hang, Jes’ as lieve to go dere As to go to de gang. He Got My Gal Come up Whitehall, Run out ’Catur, I’se boun’ fer to fin’ dat Big black waiter. Chorus: He got my gal, he got my gal, He got my gal, he got my gal, I boun’ now to git dat man. He give her money, He give her fine wear; But when I finds dat waiter, Watch out fer his hair. She’s Got Another Daddy Bill Snipe’s wife couldn’t buy no coffin, But ’hin’ her veil I seen her laughin’. She’s got another daddy, Lawd, She’s got another daddy. Bill’s wife rid ’hin’ de hearse, She rid in a hack, I kotch her grinnin’ at her new daddy Out’n a crack. She’s got another daddy, Lawd, She’s got another daddy. [152] CHAPTER IX WOMAN’S SONG OF MAN Woman’s song of man is in most respects parallel to man’s song of woman. Her themes are about the same. She sings of her “man” or “daddy,” of her disappointments and failures in love, of her unfaithful lover, and of her own secret amours. It will be noticed that woman’s song conforms quite closely to the blues type as it is popularly known today. In Chapter I examples of the “mama” blues titles were given and in Chapter II it was pointed out that the majority of the formal blues of today deal with the sex theme. Furthermore, most of these blues are sung from the point of view of woman. Consequently, as songs that may be remembered and sung from day to day, they appear more acceptable to woman than to man. Perhaps this explains why the influence of the formal blues is encountered so frequently in the kind of songs with which this chapter is concerned. At any rate, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find a song of woman on the man theme which does not show the influence of the popular blues.[70] [70]After consulting dozens of popular pieces, in both sheet music and phonograph record form, we have been able to trace some of these songs to them, but we feel sure that the influence of the formal blues is present in many other songs in this and other chapters, even though we have failed so far to locate the direct evidence. We have omitted many songs that were clearly of formal origin, although the singers insisted that they were entirely original. Woman’s song of man frequently concerns itself with “the other woman,” the rival in the case. The first two songs given here are only indirectly concerned with man, but they are of interest because they[153] touch upon the “conflict of color” within the Negro community. They are only samples of a voluminous literature of “chocolate” versus “yellow,” or “black” versus “brown,” which is to be found in the songs of the Negro. De Mulatto Gal De mulatto gal got yaller skin, yaller skin, De mulatto gal got yaller skin, yaller skin, De mulatto gal got yaller skin, yaller skin, De mulatto gal got yaller skin, Den she got a devilish grin, daddy. De mulatto gal got kinky hair, kinky hair, De mulatto gal got kinky hair, kinky hair, De mulatto gal got kinky hair, kinky hair, De mulatto gal got kinky hair, Always wears her big laigs bare, daddy. De mulatto gal got white-gray eyes, gray eyes, De mulatto gal got white-gray eyes, gray eyes, De mulatto gal got white-gray eyes, gray eyes, De mulatto gal got white-gray eyes, An’ dat’s a gal dat never lies, daddy. De mulatto gal got great big laigs, big laigs, De mulatto gal got great big laigs, big laigs, De mulatto gal got great big laigs, big laigs, De mulatto gal got great big laigs, She’s de gal makes de men beg, daddy. De mulatto gal got great big hips, big hips, De mulatto gal got great big hips, big hips, De mulatto gal got great big hips, big hips, De mulatto gal got great big hips, She’s de gal got kissin’ lips, daddy. De Chocolate Gal De chocolate gal got greasy hair, greasy hair, De chocolate gal got greasy hair, greasy hair, De chocolate gal got greasy hair, greasy hair, She is de gal can cuss an’ rare, daddy. [154] De chocolate gal got col’ black eye, black eye, De chocolate gal got col’ black eye, black eye, De chocolate gal got col’ black eye, black eye, She am de gal what steals an’ lies, daddy. De chocolate gal got thick black skin, black skin, De chocolate gal got thick black skin, black skin, De chocolate gal got thick black skin, black skin, She de kin’ of gal what go to de pen, daddy. De chocolate gal she got big laigs, big laigs, De chocolate gal she got big laigs, big laigs, De chocolate gal she got big laigs, big laigs, She am de gal what cries an’ begs, daddy. De chocolate gal got heavy hips, heavy hips, De chocolate gal got heavy hips, heavy hips, De chocolate gal got heavy hips, heavy hips, She’s de gal got lyin’ lips, daddy. Songs like those just given are varied to suit the color of the singer. If the black girl has an off-color rival, she sings that it is the yellow girl who “steals an’ lies,” who “cries an’ begs,” who “can cuss an’ rare,” and so on. In the next few songs woman sings of her “man.” Her appellations, “my man,” “my daddy,” “sweet papa,” “chocolate drop,” “Black Jack,” and others, are an interesting study in themselves. I’s Dreamin’ of You has simplicity and a note of tenderness which approaches the better type of love song. The other songs are quite crude, but it should be remembered that they are characteristic only of the Negro woman of the lower class. I’s Dreamin’ of You I’s dreamin’ of you, I’s dreamin’ of you, I’s dreamin’ of you Every night. [155] I’s thinkin’ of you, I’s thinkin’ of you I’s thinkin’ of you All right. I’s wantin’ of you, I’s wantin’ of you, I’s wantin’ of you Day an’ night. On de Road Somewhere On de road somewhere, I got a long, tall chocolate-drop On de road somewhere. Don’t you leave me here, Don’t you leave me here, If you will leave me here, Leave me dime fer beer. On de road somewhere, On de road somewhere, I got a long, tall chocolate-drop On de road somewhere. My Black Jack When I gits to heaven I don’t wanta stay Widout my Black Jack live out dat way. Black Jack’s a rounder, but I don’t kere, All us need to be happy is a bed an’ a cheer. Daddy Mine Over de fiel’ an’ ’cross de line, I got a daddy dat I call mine. Daddy mine, daddy mine, Keep me cryin’ all de time. Ain’t got no heart, ain’t got no mon, But, God, I loves dat daddy lak fun. Daddy mine, daddy mine, I got a daddy dat I calls mine, Daddy mine, daddy mine. [156] My Man Am a Slap-stick Man My man am a slap-stick man, My man dance wid de band. His head am nappy, His feetsies is long; None o’ dese things Make my man wrong. My man’s a slap-stick man. My man am a slap-stick man, My man dance wid dat yaller gal. Her head am nappy, Her feet am long; All o’ dese things Make dat gal dead wrong. My man’s de slap-stick man. Don’t You Two-time Me If you gonna be my honey Don’t you two-time me. If you gonna be my papa, Better have one man ’stead of three. Don’t you two-time, Try to two-time me. Can Any One Take Sweet Mama’s Place?[71] Can any one take sweet mama’s place? I ain’t good lookin’, Ain’t got no curly hair, But my mama give me somethin’ Take me each an’ everywhere. Come here, sweet papa, Look me in de face, Is dere anybody can take yo’ mama’s place? De Mississippi River Is so deep and wide, Can’t see my good brown From de other side. [71]Cf. phonograph record, Can Anybody Take Sweet Mama’s Place? [157] But the chief theme in woman’s song, as in man’s, is trouble. Sometimes the dominant note is disappointment: Dat nigger o’ mine don’t love me no mo’, Dat ungrateful feller don’t love me no mo’. Sometimes it is regret: I wish I was single again, Oh, I wish I was single again. Again the key-note is one of despondency: Done sol’ my soul to de devil, An’ my heart done turned to stone. And it is usually the “other woman” who is at the bottom of the trouble. He don’t send me no hearin’— I knows another gal’s dere an’ I’s fearin’. Dat sly, ’ceitful, lyin’ gal, Yes, Lawd, she stole my man away. These “hard luck” songs of woman are presented in the next group. It is here that one finds the closest relation between folk songs and the formal blues. When I Wore My Ap’on Low When I wore my ap’on low, When I wore my ap’on low, When I wore my ap’on low, Boys would pass by my do’. Now I’m wearin’ it to my chin, Now I’m wearin’ it to my chin, Now I’m wearin’ it to my chin, Boys all pass and dey won’t come in. [158] I Done Sol’ My Soul to de Devil[72] I done sol’ my soul, Done sol’ it to de devil, An’ my heart done turned to stone. I got a lot o’ gol’, Got it from de devil, Because he won’t let me alone. He says he can make me happy An’ give me back my man If you follow me in sin, An’ I wus so blue he took me in. Look what a fool I am. Done sol’ my soul, Done sol’ it to the devil, An’ my heart done turned to stone. I live down in de valley By a hornet’s nest, Where de lions, bears, and tigers Come to take deir rest. [72]Very similar to phonograph piece, Done Sold My Soul to the Devil. I Got a Letter From My Man[73] I got a letter from my man, My man’s dyin’, Lawd, Lawd. I’m goin’ down track, never look back, Goin’ where my man fell dead. I’m gonna follow my man, Lawd, gonna follow him to the buryin’ groun’. But I’m so sorry, Lawd, But I just can’t take your place. Well, captain, told you about my man, Say, I’m goin’ away, can’t stay behind. [159] Say, I’m goin’ away, captain, Lawd, I done lef’ this town. Say, I’m goin’ home, captain, an’, captain, I won’t be here so long. Say, I’m goin’ away, Lawd, Lawd, Say, I’m on my way home. O Lawd, captain, tell me what’s matter now, Nothin’ matter, jus’ leavin’ the town. Captain, captain, I’m goin’ away so long, You make me think o’ my man. Say, captain, captain, don’t be so hard on me, O Lawd, I don’t do nothin’ but wash an’ iron all day. Say, captain, captain, I can’t work so hard, O Lawd, I can’t wash an’ iron so hard. Say, captain, when you call my name, You make me think, Lawd o’ my man. Say, captain, I ain’t got no husban’, Lawd, captain, you got my man. [73]This song represents the lament of a construction-camp woman. The sentiment of the first four stanzas is found, in a very different form, in the phonograph piece, Death Letter Blues. I Ain’t No Stranger I ain’t no stranger, I ain’t no stranger, I jes’ blow into your town. I didn’t come here, I didn’t come here. To be dawged around. Look-a here, daddy, Look-a here, daddy, See what you done done. Done made me love you, Den tryin’ to throw me away. See dem crazy fellows, daddy? Go to jail about ’em, But I wont go in— [160] What Can the Matter Be?[74] What can the matter be, O dear, what can the matter be? What can the matter be, O dear, Johnnie is so long at the fair. He promised to bring me a ring an’ a locket An’ all the nice things you wear in your pocket. He promised to bring me a bunch of blue ribbon To wear on my pretty brown hair. He said if I’d love him he never would leave me, But now I have chased him I hope he won’t grieve me, I love him so dearly I hope he won’t leave me, But Johnnie is so long at the fair. O dear, what can the matter be? Johnnie is so long at the fair. [74]This song, which is probably of white origin, has a wide distribution. The present version is from North Carolina. The song is mentioned in Pound’s syllabus, Folk Song of Nebraska and the Central West. Perrow gives a version in Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 28, p. 169. Worried Anyhow[75] When de man dat I love says He didn’t want me no mo’, I thought it was de hardest word I ever heard befo’. When de blues overtake you, I’s can’t beat a deal, If it wusn’t fer my mother An’ de man I loves. I give myself to de sick An’ my soul to de God above. If you quit me, daddy, It won’t worry me now, Because when we are together I am worried anyhow. [75]Cf. phonograph record, Worried Anyhow Blues. [161] Dere’s Misery in Dis Lan’ I got a man an’ a sweetheart, too, I got a man an’ a sweetheart, too, I got a man an’ a sweetheart, too, Dere’s misery in dis lan’, dis lan’. Can’t please my man an’ my sweetheart, too, Can’t please my man an’ my sweetheart, too, Can’t please my man an’ my sweetheart, too, Dere’s misery in dis lan’, dis lan’. My man makes money an’ my sweetheart makes none, My man makes money an’ my sweetheart makes none, My man makes money an’ my sweetheart makes none, Dere’s misery in dis lan’, dis lan’. My sweetheart makes love an’ my man makes none, My sweetheart makes love an’ my man makes none, My sweetheart makes love an’ my man makes none, Dere’s misery in dis lan’, dis lan’. Dat Chocolate Man I ain’t never goin’ to be satisfied, All day an’ night I cried. Dat big Bill o’ mine he hide From me, yes, from me. My ol’ haid it’s weary, My ol’ heart it’s dreary For dat chocolate man. I wonder where dat slim Bill’s gone, I can’t do nothin’ but set an’ mo’n. Dat big Bill stray from me, Yes, he stray from me. My bed it’s lonesome an’ col’, I can’t sleep to save my soul. Dat big Bill o’ mine, He’s got dat yaller gal. My ol’ haid it’s achin’, My ol’ heart it’s breakin’ For dat chocolate man. [162] Dem Longin’, Wantin’ Blues I loves dat bully, he sho’ looks good to me, I always do what he wants me to. Den he don’t seem satisfied. I got de blues, Yes, Saro, I’s got dem wantin’ blues, Dem longin’, wantin’ blues. He don’t send me no hearin’, I know another gal’s dere an’ I’s fearin’. He don’t seem satisfied. Now I got de blues, Yes, Lawd, I got dem wantin’ blues, Dem longin’, wantin’ blues. Dat Nigger o’ Mine Don’t Love Me No Mo’. Up an’ down de street, ain’t got no show, Dat nigger o’ mine don’t love me no mo’. No mo’, no mo’, no show, no show, ’Cause dat ungrateful feller don’t love me no mo’. Stroll to de corner, cop in sight, Gonna kill dat man, he ain’t treat me right. No mo’, no mo’, no show, no show, ’Cause dat ungrateful feller don’t love me no mo’. I Don’t Love Him No Mo’. If I don’t come back, If I don’t come back, Put de cop on dat Black man’s track. He’s a rough-neck black, Keep de p’liceman on his track, Put ’im in de jail house, Keep ’im dere. I don’t love him no mo’, So I don’t care. [163] I Wish I Was Single Again[76] When I was single I was livin’ at my ease, Now I am married a drunker to please. I wish I was single again, I wish I was single again. When I was single, fine shoes I wo’, Now I am married, my feet on the flo’. I wish I was single again, I wish I was single again. The water is to bring, the flo’ to sweep, The children are cryin’ and nothin’ to eat. I wish I was single again, I wish I was single again. Wash their little faces, tuck them in their bed, In comes that drunken man—I wish he was dead. I wish I was single again, I wish I was single again. [76]Cf. Campbell & Sharp, English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians, p. 256; also phonograph record version, I Wish I Was a Single Girl. Dere’s a Lizzie After My Man Dere’s a Lizzie after my man, Dere’s a Lizzie after my man; She git ’im if she can, ’Cause I kotch her holdin’ his han’, Dis-a mawnin’, dis evenin’ more ’n late. Her face am powdered white, Her face am powdered white; Her hair am greasy an’ slick, On my man she try to work ’er trick, Dis-a mawnin’, dis evenin’ more ’n soon. She comed ’roun’ to my do’, She comed ’roun’ to my do’; Den I ripped offen her skirt, Den I tore offen his shirt, Dis-a mawnin’, dis evenin’, more ’n soon. [164] Dat Sly Gal Dat sly gal, Oh, dat sly, ’ceitful, lyin’ gal, She leads dat long tearful prayer Wid her head propped on my chair. She stole my man away, Yes, Lawd, she stole my man away. I Don’t Feel Welcome Here I’s goin’ down de road Where I can get better care. I believe I’ll go ’Cause I don’t feel welcome here. I’s goin’ to ketch dat train, Dont’ kere where it’s from, ’Cause I ain’t gonna stay here An’ be made no stumblin’ block. I landed here one night When de clock wus strikin’ nine, Lookin’ fer dat woman Dat had stole dat man o’ mine. I hunts dat woman high, I hunts dat woman low, I’s gonna rip dat woman From her mouf clean down befo’. Occupied Coon, coon, coon, great big yaller coon, He sets all night jis’ outern my do’. He says, “Please lemme res’ dere jis’ once mo’,” But, Lawd, it’s occupied, But, Lawd, it’s occupied. Dat coon’d be hot if he knowed de troof, Dat a chocolate-drop lef’ over de roof. But he wanta come in once mo’ An’ be occupied, An’ be occupied. [165] I’m Gonna Get Me Another Man My man ain’t treatin’ me right, He haven’t been home this week. I’m goin’ get me another man An’ let that black kinky-headed bastard go. He don’t love me an’ he don’t mean me no good. I’m a brown-skin woman an’ tailor-made, I believe I can get me a man in anybody’s town. The man I love an’ am wild about, He is brown-skin, Got curled hair an’ tailor-made hisself. I Got Another Daddy Leavin’ here, I sho’ don’t wanta go. Goin’ up de country, Brown-skin, I can’t carry you. Don’t write me no letters, Dont’ sen’ me no word, I got another daddy To take your place. [166] CHAPTER X FOLK MINSTREL TYPES One of the most interesting of all the Negro’s secular songs is the folk minstrel type. This minstrel song is similar to the original minstrel, in which one or more wandering musicians and songsters travel from place to place rendering song and music with varied accompaniments. Sometimes one singer goes alone, sometimes two, sometimes a quartette. They are entertainers in the real sense that they exhibit themselves and their art with all the naturalness and spontaneity possible. Furthermore, such minstrels are not infrequently ingenious in composing new verses and adapting them to old tunes or to newly discovered ones. Such songs are also well adapted to social gatherings and to various special occasions. They should be distinguished from the black-face type of vaudeville song and the minstrel show, although of course the song of the traveling show must inevitably influence the minstrel type a great deal. For sheer type-portraiture, however, the minstrel Negro and his song must undoubtedly be presented if the whole picture is to be complete. Typical scenes are the singing on special gala occasions, such as fairs, holidays, and picnics, at resorts of the whites, on the road or on street corners. Such singers also accompany many a patent-medicine man or other street-corner vender of wares. Sung in this way, of course, are many of the ordinary secular creations, but in general the minstrel type is[167] more finished and formal, with more of rhyme and something of the ballad technique, with much of the humor and entertaining qualities implied in its kind. Most of these songs would repay special study on the part of the student of folk songs and ballads who wishes to trace origins and developments. While all the songs we have listed are Negro songs in the sense that they are sung much and regularly by Negroes, with the special artistic expression and manner common to them, they are, of course, often much mixed with similar songs originating elsewhere. In the case of It Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’,[77] for instance, the origin of course is a common one, and many of the scores of verses are sung alike by white and Negro minstrels, with only minor distinctions due to manner and situation. And yet of the several hundred verses which are even now extant, some are very clearly of Negro origin, exhibiting something of the Negro’s traditional phrases and his blues. A Negro quartette singing It Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’ is undoubtedly singing a Negro song. Among the songs in the previous volume which are adapted to the minstrel type of singing are Railroad Bill, Lilly, Stagolee, Eddy Jones,[78] and some of the more recently composed religious types. [77]No verses of It Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’ are given in this volume, although our collection included several score. They are scarcely within the bounds of the present collection. [78]See The Negro and His Songs, pp. 196, 198, 205, 228. One of the most attractive of all the Negro songs we have heard was That Liar, sung by two elderly Negro men at Columbia, South Carolina, through the courtesy of Dr. E. L. C. Adams. The main part of the song is always chanted by the leader in recitative sing-song very much after the fashion of a sermon when the minister has reached his emotional climax. Then upon reaching the chorus, he suddenly turns into rapid[168] song, accompanied by his companion. They sing the chorus with the usual accompaniment of “Oh” or “Lawd” or “Let me tell you.” The song, with some variations and repetitions, is good for almost an hour’s entertainment. It is also a very good shouting song. That Liar[79] Jes’ let me tell you how a liar will do. Always comin’ with somethin’ new, He’ll steal yo’ heart with false pretense, Makin’ out like he’s yo’ bes’ frien’; An’ when he finds out you believe what he say, Then that liar gonna have his way. He’ll bring you news ’bout women and men, Make you fall out with yo’ bes’ frien’. Chorus: If you don’t want to get in trouble, If you don’t want to get in trouble, If you don’t want to get in trouble, You better let that liar alone. When a liar takes a notion his friends to improve, He lay around de neighbors and git de news. Nearly every day when you look out, See that liar come to yo’ house, Tell you sich lies surprise yo’ min’ An’ mix a little truth to make it shine. An’ when he git his news fix jes’ right, That liar gonna cause a fight. When everything’s in perfect peace, Here come that liar with his deceit, Make believe that he love you so well, Till every day he must come an’ tell. “Let me tell you, my sister, if you jes’ knew What a certain somebody tell me ’bout you.” He studies up lie and tell it so smooth, Until you think undoubtedly must be true. He’ll bring you out to trace de tale, An’ if you don’t mind you’ll be put in jail. [169] A hypocrite and liar both keep up a fuss, Dey both very bad, but a liar’s the wuss; He’ll come to yo’ house in powerful rush, Say, “I can’t stay long for I must go to my work, I jes’ come to tell you what somebody say.” Then he’ll take a seat an’ stay all day. He’ll tell you some things that’ll cause you to pout, Then at las’ he’ll force you out. He knows that he owes you, an’ if you ask him for pay, He’ll fall out wid you and stay away. [79]Cf. The song given by Ballanta in his St. Helena Island Spirituals, p. 72. Sung in very much the same way is the War Jubilee Song, itself a type of popular traveling song. It was the favorite of the same two singers, both noted songsters of the Columbia environs, and they claimed to have learned it from a traveling Negro secretary of the Y. W. C. A., who came from Florida immediately after the World War. Here again the chorus was sung with effective variations, “Now I’m so glad,” or “You know I’m so glad,” or “I declare I’m so glad,” and many others. War Jubilee Song When the U. S. got in de war Wus de saddes’ day I ever saw. Registration day began to start An’ it come near breakin’ all mothers’ heart. Chorus: Now I’m so glad, I’m so glad, Now I’m so glad, I’m so glad, Now I’m so glad, I’m so glad Jesus brought peace all over dis lan’. You know, I declare, Jesus brought peace all over dis lan’. But God who called us here below Tol’ de boys, “Get ready, with you I’ll go.” Jes’ take me over in Germany lan’ An’ I will conquer every man. [170] When time fer train to roll, Uncle Sam had boys under his control, An’ when town bell begin to ring Some tried to be happy and begin to sing. Some from Newport News, so I am tol’, An’ some in France where it was col’. Jes’ carry me over in de lan’ of France Where every soldier will have a fightin’ chance. That vessel leave New York with thousands on board, Steam ship carry such a heavy load. Lawd, I’m over in very strange lan’, Wid all soldiers walk han’ in han’. An’ no good Christian did not fear, ’Cause Jesus Christ was engineer, Engineer standin’ at chariot wheel Backin’ up children on battle fiel’. Reason why war did last so long, So many people was livin’ wrong, Jes’ goin’ round runnin’ down colors and race An’ oughter been beggin’ fer little mo’ grace. Whilst dey wus fightin’ great noise wus heard, Smoke wus flyin’ jes’ lak a bird, Men were dyin’ wid thousands of groans, Now peace declared an’ boys at home. Uncle Sam he made and signed a decree For American nation to ben’ de knee. God sits in Heaven an’ answers prayer, An’ dey had to stop fightin’ over there. We put ourselves as debt to God, We say we’d follow where he trod, But de way got dark and we couldn’t see Jes’ who de winner of war would be. But de Christians prayed until dey cried, Hypocrite say dat dey had lied. But in deir heads dey had a doubt, But when peace was declared, Lawd, dey wanted to shout. [171] One of the most entertaining songs in all the repertoire of the Negro’s aggregate creations is Mr. Epting, sung by four Negro pick-and-shovel men with such zest and harmony as we have rarely heard. It is apparently a parody on the war song Good Morning, Mr. Zip, and with this particular quartette of workers would make a hit on any stage. In the singing, the largest member of the group dances a jig and exclaims in his big bass voice, “Lawd, Lawd, I feels funny when I sings this song. Lawd, Lawd, I can’t keep still, it gives me such a funny feelin’. Whoopee! Singin’ ’bout white man gives me funny feelin’.” In addition to the verses sung here the singer may substitute for whiskey and cocaine such words as gun, woman, policeman, work, and other forces which may be calculated to lead to the demise of these slanderers of Mr. Epting. Good Morning, Mr. Epting Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just nappy as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, You belong to the K. K. kind. Well, ashes to ashes, Well, dust to dust, Show me a woman That you can trust. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just nappy as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just kinky as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, You belong to the K. K. kind. Well, ashes to ashes, Well, dust to dust, Show me a woman That you can trust. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just kinky as mine. [172] Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just as black as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, You belong to the K. K. kind. Well, if whiskey don’t kill me, Well, cocaine must, Show me a woman That you can trust. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just black as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just black as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, You belong to the K. K. kind. Pistol don’t kill me, Well, cocaine must, Show me a woman That you can trust. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just as black as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just short as mine. Good morning, Mr. Epting, You belong to the K. K. kind. Well if whiskey don’t kill me, Well, cocaine must, Show me a woman That you can trust. Good morning, Mr. Epting, Your hair just as short as mine. The old song Raise a Rukus Tonight is now a popular one in various forms, those given here representing Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina. There are many other versions and fragments, but these will suffice to indicate the type and mixture so common at present. One may easily see the similarity to the old song but also its corruption by such modern types[173] as It Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’. Wring Jing, while not a “rukus” chorus, is so much of the same sort as to make its comparison of value. The other much varied and corrupted types are also valuable for comparative purposes. Raise a Rukus Tonight A My ol’ master promise me, Raise rukus tonight; Before he died he’d set me free, Raise rukus tonight. Chorus: Come along, chillun, come along, While the moon is shining bright, Get on board, down the river float, ’Cause we gonna raise a rukus tonight. His hair come out and his head turned bal’, Raise rukus tonight; He got out o’ notion dyin’ at all, Raise rukus tonight. ’Scuse me, mister, don’t get mad, Raise rukus tonight; ’Cause you look like sumpin the buzzards had, Raise rukus tonight. Look at that nigger, ain’t he black? Raise rukus tonight; Got hair on his head like a carpet tack, Raise rukus tonight. Black cat settin’ on chimney jam, Raise rukus tonight; If that ain’t hot place, I’ll be damn, Raise rukus tonight. Way down yonder on chit’lin’ switch, Raise rukus tonight; Bull frog jump from ditch to ditch, Raise rukus tonight. [174] Bull frog jump from bottom of well, Raise rukus tonight; Swore, by God, he jumped from hell, Raise rukus tonight. Raise a Rukus Tonight B Some folks say preacher won’t steal, Raise rukus tonight; I caught two in my corn fiel’, Raise rukus tonight. One had a bushel, one had fo’, Raise rukus tonight; If that ain’t stealin’ I don’t know, Raise rukus tonight. My ol’ missus promised me, Raise rukus tonight; When she died she’d set me free, Raise rukus tonight. She live so long ’til she got bal’, Raise rukus tonight; She got out notion dyin’ at all, Raise rukus tonight. So come along, chillun, come along, Where moon shine bright tonight; Get on board before boat gone, Gonna raise rukus tonight. Raise a Rukus Tonight C Come on, niggers, While the moon is shining bright, Get on the boat, Down the river we’ll float, We’re gonna raise a rukus tonight. Come on, little chillun, While the moon is shining bright, [175] We’re gonna raise cornbread An’ sweet potatoes tonight, Raise rukus tonight. My ol’ missus promised me, Raise rukus tonight, When she died she’d set me free. We’re gonna raise a rukus tonight, Gonna raise a rukus tonight. My ol’ master promised me, Gonna raise a rukus tonight, When I grew to be a man He’d give me a horse’s rein. Gonna raise a rukus tonight. Wring Jing Had a Little Ding If I live to see next fall, Wring Jing had a little ding, Ain’t goin’ to have no lover at all, Wring Jing had a little ding. My ol’ missus promised me, Wring Jing had a little ding, When she died she’d set me free, Wring Jing had a little ding. When she died she died so po’, Wring Jing had a little ding, She left me sittin’ on de kitchen flo’, Wring Jing had a little ding. Bull frog jumped into bottom of well, Wring Jing had a little ding, Swore, by golly, he jumped in hell, Wring Jing had a little ding. My ol’ missus had a mule, Wring Jing had a little ding, His name was Martin Brown, Wring Jing had a little ding. Every foot that Martin had, Wring Jing had a little ding, Would cover an acre of groun’, Wring Jing had a little ding. [176] Gwine to Git a Home By an’ By My ol’ missus promised me, Gwine to git a home by an’ by, When she died, she’d set me free, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. She did live till she got bal’, Gwine to git a home by an’ by, And she never died at all, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. Chorus: Den O dat watermelon! Lamb of goodness, you must die; I’m gwine to jine de contraband, chillun, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. A shoo-fly cut a pigeon wing, Gwine to git a home by an’ by; A rattlesnake rolled in a ’possum’s skin, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. Cow path crooked gwine through the wood, Gwine to git a home by an’ by, Missus says I shan’t, I says I should, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. Sister Sue and ol’ Aunt Sallie, Gwine to git a home by an’ by, Both live down in shin-bone alley, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. Name on de house, name on de do’, Gwine to git a home by an’ by, Big green spot on de grocery sto’, Gwine to git a home by an’ by. There are many songs of the mule, some of which are old and being revived, some of which have been made new by the phonograph records. The first illustration here was sung with remarkable effect at the Dayton, Tennessee, Scopes trial, with hundreds of whites and Negroes standing around the quartette of Negroes[177] who came for the occasion. Most of their songs were of the stereotyped sort, such as Ain’t Gonna Rain No Mo’. The mule song is the best illustration of the minstrel type given in this volume. The other mule songs are presented largely for comparison, and are not particularly valuable. One of these, exhorting Miss Liza to keep her seat, is similar to the version collected twenty years ago in Mississippi.[80] [80]See The Negro and His Songs, p. 235. Go ’Long Mule I’ve got a mule, he’s such a fool He never pays no heed; I built a fire ’neath his tail, An’ then he showed some speed. Chorus: Go ’long, mule, Don’t you roll dem eyes; You can change a fool, but a doggone mule Is a mule until he dies. Drove down to the graveyard, Some peaceful rest to fin’; But when a black cat crossed my path I sure did change my min’. My gal’s ol’ man don’t like me much, He’s got a heart o’ flint; Last night I saw him buy a gun An’ I can take a hint. I bought some biscuits for my dog An’ put them on the shelf; Times got so hard I shot the dog An’ ate them up myself. Both Rufus Akes an’ Rastus Payne Got married down in Gaines; An’ now they say the Georgia woods Are full of Akes an’ Paynes. [178] A cowslip ain’t no kind o’ slip To slip upon a cow; That’s why a catfish never answers To a cat’s meow. A man in Georgia pulled a gun An’ took a shot at me; Just as he took the second shot I passed through Tennessee. Bill Jones was taken ill while callin’ On his gal Salome. What really caused his illness was Her husband who came home. They say some one’s been stealin’ things, It’s kind-a newsed aroun’; I swear I don’t know who it is, But I am leavin’ town. I’m goin’ to the river now To lay me down and die, An’ if I find the water’s wet I’ll wait until it’s dry. My gal invited me to dine, I went prepared to eat; But all she placed upon my plate Was chicken necks and feet. They’re gonna hold a meetin’ there Of some society. There’s ’leven sheets upon the line, That’s ten too much for me.[81] [81]Evidently refers to a Ku Klux Klan meeting. [179] Hump-back Mule If you want to sneeze, Tell you what to do, Get some salt an’ pepper, Put it in yo’ shoe. Ridin’ hump-back mule, Ridin’ hump-back mule, If you want to see pretty yaller gal, She’s ridin’ a hump-back mule. Ol’ massa bought pretty yaller gal, Bought her from the South, She wrapped her hair so tight She couldn’t open her mouth. Ridin’ hump-back mule, Ridin’ hump-back mule, If you want to see pretty yaller gal, She’s ridin’ a hump-back mule. Carried her to blacksmith shop To have her mouth made small, She back her years and open her mouth An’ swallowed shop and all. Ridin’ hump-back mule, Ridin’ hump-back mule, If you want to see pretty yaller gal, She’s ridin’ a hump-back mule. Niggers plant de cotton on hill, Niggers pick it out, White man pocket money, Nigger does without. Ridin’ hump-back mule, Ridin’ hump-back mule, If you want to see pretty yaller gal, She’s ridin’ a hump-back mule. Whoa, Mule I hear dem sleigh bells ringin’, snow am fallin’ fas’, I’s got dis mule in de horness, got him hitched at las’. Liza, get yo’ bonnet, come an’ take a seat, Grab up dat robe you’re sittin’ on an’ cover up yo’ feet. [180] Chorus: Whoa, mule, whoa I say! Keep yo’ seat, Miss Liza Jane, an’ hold on to de sleigh. Whoa, mule, whoa I say! Keep yo’ seat, Miss Liza Jane, an’ hold on to de sleigh. What’s dis mule a-roamin’ for? He ain’t got half a load. When you catch dis mule a-roamin’, jus’ give him all de road. Don’t get scared at nothin’, you stay here today, Liza, help me hold dis mule, or else he’ll get away. Watch dis mule a-goin’, goodness how he can sail! Watch his big ears floppin’, see him sling his tail. Goin’ down to de ’possum, Liza, you keep cool, I ain’t got time to kiss you now, I’s busy with dis mule. A Nigger’s Hard to Fool A Georgia nigger an’ a Georgia mule, Dese two asses is hard to fool. Might fool a white man, Might fool his mother, Might fool his sister, An’ you might fool his brother; But a nigger’s hard to fool, But a nigger’s hard to fool. A Georgia yaller gal An’ a Georgia black Kin always dog A feller’s track, But he’s hard to fool. Yes, Lawd, a nigger’s hard to fool. A Georgia road’s red, Bottom lan’ black, A Georgia nigger Is a cracker jack, An’ he’s hard to fool. Yes, Lawd, a nigger’s hard to fool. [181] I’m Fishin’ Boun’ Look ’cross the fiel’, see the sun comin’ down, Dis is de day to be layin’ ’roun’. Bait in de can, hook on de stick, I’m done too lazy to hit a lick, I’m fishin’ boun’, I’m fishin’ boun’. Lazies got me, an’ I don’t keer, Stomach’s empty, but who’s gonna fear? Bait in de can, hook on de stick, Fishin’ spell done got me, I can’t hit a lick, I’m fishin’ boun’, I’m fishin’ boun’. Come on fellers, wid yo’ luck in yo’ han’ We’s gonna eat minners out de fryin’ pan, Bait in de can, hook on de line, If I don’t go to fishin’, nigger, I’ll be dyin’, I’m fishin’ boun’, I’m fishin’ boun’. Stretch flat on yo’ belly wid yo’ back in de air, Look out fo’ yo’ hook, Lawd, he’s bitin’ dere! Bait in de can, hook on de stick, I’m plum’ so hungry, I’m most nigh sick, I’m fishin’ boun’, I’m fishin’ boun’. Co’n Bread Co’n bread, co’n bread, Feed dis nigger on co’n bread. White man eats biscuit, Nigger eats pone; Nigger he’s de stronges’ Jes’ sho’s you bo’n. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Give dis nigger greasy co’n bread. Put on de skillit, Po’ in de grease, Don’t make a little, But a great big piece. Co’n bread, co’n bread, All lazy niggers loves co’n bread. [182] Sif’ out de bran an’ Drap in de pone, Lawd knowed whut he’s doin’ When he made dat co’n. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Give dis nigger plenty co’n bread. You loves Emma an’ I loves Jake. You is de nigger Some greasy co’n bread to bake. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Black greasy nigger eats co’n bread. One han’ in de hopper, De udder in de sack, Ol’ black nigger wid Red lips to smack. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Black greasy nigger eats co’n bread. ’Taters in de hill, Meal in de bag, Home-made sirup In de old black keg. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Black lazy nigger eats co’n bread. Ashes in de corner, Fire in de middle; Woman cooks rations, Man sets an’ whittles. Co’n bread, co’n bread, Feed dis nigger on co’n bread. Other songs which are current through the singing of the minstrel type, or distributed widely on printed sheets in much the same way as the “mule” songs, are No Coon But You, De Co’t House in De Sky, and[183] Hi-Jenny-Ho, sent us by Mr. J. D. Arthur of Tennessee. The Pullman Porter is a little more sophisticated, but represents a type of humor and easy-going vaudeville style. No Coon But You As I was strollin’ down the street, “Who did you meet?” A yellah gal I chanced to meet. “What did you say?” Said I, “My little honey, now who’s you gwine to meet? May I have the pleasure of walkin’ down the street With the one I long so for? You are the apple of my eye.” An’ then she turned her sparklin’ eyes an’ quickly said to me: Chorus: “No coon but you, babe, no coon but you, No coon but you, babe, will ever do. No coon but you, babe, no coon but you, No coon but you will ever do.” As we were passin’ down the street, “What happened then?” Her Sunday babe we chanced to meet. “What happened then?” He grabbed me by the shoulder, he quickly turned me ’roun’. Said I, “Look out here, nigger, I’ll fall you to the groun’.” But he took away my yellah gal, an’ as they passed me by, I heard him say, “Now who’s your babe?” an’ then she said to him: “No coon but you, babe,” etc. [184] That very same night there was a ball. “Where, nigger, where?” Down at the Black Fo’-Hundred’s Hall, “S’pose you were there?” Yes, I took along my razuh, an’ gave it such a swing, I cut that yellah nigger right under his left wing. An’ as they carried out his corpse I heard the people say, “Now who’ll be her babe?” an’ then she said to me: “No coon but you, babe,” etc. De Co’t House in de Sky I’s got a notion in my head As when you come to die, You’ll stand a ’zamination In de co’t house in de sky. You’ll be astonished at the questions That the angels gwine to ax, When they get you on the witness stan’ An’ pin you to the facts. Den yo’ eyes will open wider Than they ever done befo’, When they ax you ’bout the chicken scrapes What happened long ago. Chorus: To de co’t house in de sky I will raise my wings an’ fly, An’ stan’ the ’zamination In de co’t house in de sky. Now de angels on de picket line Along the milky way Keeps watchin’ what you’re doin’ An’ hearin’ what you say. No matter what you’re gwine to do, No matter whar you’re gwine, They’s mighty apt to find it out An’ pass it long de line. [185] Den often in de meetin’-house You make a fuss or laugh, Den the news it goes a kitin’ ’Long the golden telegraph. Den de angel in de office, What is settin’ by the gate, Jes’ reads the message with a look An’ claps it on de slate. Oh, you’d better do yo’ duty, boys, An’ keep yo’ conscience clear, An’ keep a-lookin’ straight ahead An’ watchin’ whar you steer. ’Cause after while the time will come To journey from dis lan’, Dey’ll take you ’way up in de air An’ place you on de stan’. Den you’ll have to listen mighty close An’ answer mighty straight, If you ever ’spects to enter Through that pretty golden gate. Oh, you’d better stop yo’ foolin’, That’s a place you can’t slide by, When you stan’ the ’zamination In de co’t house in de sky. Hi, Jenny, Ho, Jenny Johnson Once I loved a yaller gal, she said she’d marry me, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson! Saw her eatin’ apples at a huckleberry bee, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Took her to a ball an’ we never did get back Till the break of morn, when you hear the chickens quack. She wouldn’t take the cars, so I took her in a hack; Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Chorus: Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, come along with me, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson! Sweeter than the honey at a huckleberry bee, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! [186] O my darling Jenny, she’s the sweetest girl in town, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson! Captivates the neighborhood for miles an’ miles aroun’, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Said she loved another an’ it broke my heart in two, An’ I had to get it mended with a little piece of glue; She gave me back my locket an’ a little silver shoe, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Now my Jenny’s married to a little yaller coon, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson! Take care for Jenny’s hubby, for he’ll kill you mighty soon, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Wooly-headed pickaninnies runnin’ roun’ the flo’, For they say there’s only two, but I wish they had a sco’; I’m gwine away to China, so I’ll never see her mo’, Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson! Pullman Porter Runs from California Plumb up to Maine. I’s a Negro porter On de pullman train. Pullman train, Pullman train, I’s de Negro porter On de pullman train. Braid on the cap an’ Buttons in a row, On that blue uniform Right down the fo’. In pullman train, Pullman train, I’s a Negro porter On de pullman train. It’s a tip right here An’ a tip right thar, Tip all along Up an’ down de pullman car. [187] Pullman train, Pullman train, I’s a Negro porter On de pullman train. Pocket full o’ money, Stomach full o’ feed, What next in the worl’ Do a fellow need? Pullman train, Pullman train, I’s a Negro porter On de pullman train. Kitty Kimo[82] Dar was a frog lived in a spring, He had such a cold dat he could not sing, I pulled him out an’ frowed him on de groun’, Ol’ frog he bounced an’ run aroun’. Chorus: Camo, kimo, daro, war, My high, my ho, my rumstipumstididdle, Soot bag, pidly-wickem, linch ’em, nip cat, Sing song, Polly, won’t you kime, oh? Milk in de dairy, nine days ol’, Rats an’ skippers are gettin’ hol’; A long-tailed rat in a bucket of souse, Jes’ come from de white folks’ house. In North Carolina de niggers grow, If de white man only plant his toe. Water de ground with ’bacco smoke, An’ up de nigger’s head will poke. Way down South in Cedar street, Dere’s where de niggers grow ten feet, Dey go to bed, but ’tain’t no use, Deir feet hang out for a chicken’s roos’. [82]Cf. Scarborough, On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs, pp. 156-7. [188] CHAPTER XI WORKADAY RELIGIOUS SONGS Many a laborer, although singing his full quota of secular songs, still finds his workaday solace best in his favorite heritage of church and religious melodies. There is surcease of sorrow in the plaintive Yes, Lawd, burden down, burden down, O Lawd, since I laid my burden down. And the appeal for relief from present difficulties, so eloquently expressed in the previous chapters, finds its counterpart in this favorite of many workers of the present day. Do, Lawd, remember me, Do, Lawd, remember me, When I’m in trouble, Do, Lawd, remember me. When I’m low down, Do, Lawd, remember me. Oh, when I’m low down, Do, Lawd, remember me. Don’t have no cross, Do, Lawd, remember me, Don’t have no crown, Do, Lawd, remember me. There seems to be an impression abroad to the effect that the making of Negro spirituals stopped long ago. On the contrary, it is quite probable that more spirituals are being made today than during the days of slavery. As a matter of fact the old spirituals have never been[189] static. It is no longer possible to speak of the “pure” or “original” version of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, of Roll, Jordan, Roll, or any other of the old favorites. If any one is in doubt of this, let him compare the words and music of the spirituals as they were recorded by Allen and others in 1867 with the records of the same songs later made by Fenner and Work and with the recent versions in James Weldon Johnson’s Book of American Negro Spirituals. Or let him compare the songs as they are sung at Hampton with the same songs as they are sung at Tuskegee or at Fisk. The spirituals, like all other folk songs, are dynamic. Sometimes in the process of constant change there appear variations which are so unlike the parent songs as to constitute virtually new songs. In this way the old spirituals have been the inspiration for untold numbers of new religious songs. Among the lowly Negro folk of the South the making of spirituals is still a reality. Every community has its “composers.” Often they are supposed to possess some special gift of the “spirit.” From sermon, prayer, and crude folk wisdom they draw ideas and inspiration for their compositions. Sometimes the results are pathetic, but not infrequently there springs up a song which would compare favorably with the old spirituals. It is not the purpose of this chapter to present the old spirituals or merely their newer variations, but rather to give some of the more unsophisticated religious songs of the workaday Negro as they are sung today in the South, by the same groups and individuals whose songs and verbal pictures this volume presents. They are not the kind of songs which are usually sung in the Negro churches, for many of them have only individual or local significance, while others show distinct secular touches. [190] Biblical themes continue to find a place in the Negro’s religious songs. Moses and Pharaoh and Noah and the ark are still the favorites. Here are a few of the workaday religious songs now current in the South. Pharaoh’s Army Got Drownded is a favorite with children, and is often sung by them as a sort of reel. The three songs following it were sung by a woman in Georgia who is known locally as Sanctified Mary Harris. She claims that they are her own compositions and says that she composes only when she in “under de spirit.” Pharaoh’s Army Got Drownded Mary, don’t you weep an’, Marthie, don’t you moan, Mary, don’t you weep an’, Marthie, don’t you moan; Pharaoh’s army got drownded, O baby, don’t you weep. I thinks every day an’ I wish I could Stan’ on de rock whar Moses stood; Oh, Pharaoh’s army got drownded, O baby, don’t you weep. If you git dere befo’ I do, Tell de Cap’n I’s a-comin’ too; Pharaoh’s army got drownded, O baby, don’t you weep. If I had wings lak de angels have, I never be caught drivin’ in anudder cab; Pharaoh’s army got drownded, O baby, don’t you weep. Baby, don’t you weep an’, baby, don’t you moan, You has to go to heaven wid yo’ buryin’ clothes on; Pharaoh’s army got drownded, O baby, don’t you weep. [191] Gonna Turn Back Pharaoh’s Army When de children wus in bondage Dey cried unto de Lawd, “O turn back Pharaoh’s army.” Hallelu! Chorus: Gonna turn back Pharaoh’s army, Hallelu! Yes, a-gonna turn back Pharaoh’s army, Hallelu! I write to Marse Jesus To send some valiant solders Jus’ to turn back Pharaoh’s army, Hallelu! When Moses smit de water The children all cross over, Den dey turn back Pharaoh’s army, Hallelu! Didn’t Ol’ Pharaoh Get Lost? God spoke to Moses, “Pharaoh now, Fer I have harden Pharaoh’s heart to me, Fer he will not bow.” Chorus: Didn’t ol’ Pharaoh get lost, get lost! Didn’t ol’ Pharaoh get lost in de Red Sea? Moses went unto Pharaoh An’ did whut de Lawd said how, But God had harden Pharaoh’s heart, He would not let dem go. Who Built de Ark? De very fust thing dat Nora done, He cut this timber down. De very next thing dat Nora done He huded it all aroun’. [192] Chorus: Who built de ark? Nora, Nora. Who built de ark? Nora an’ his Lawd. Who built de ark? Nora, Nora. Who built de ark? Nora an’ his Lawd. Nora said to de rovin’ bird, “Go bring me a grain of san’.” De rovin’ bird cried, “O Lawd, I can’t find no lan’.” The old songs had much to say about trouble, the struggle with sin and the devil, and the warning to the sinner man. Favorite lines used to be: Nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen I’m a-rollin’ through an unfriendly worl’ O my good Lawd, keep me from sinkin’ down We are climbin’ Jacob’s ladder My sins so heavy I can’t get along Sinner, what you gonna do? O sinner, don’t you let dis harves’ pass Perhaps Satan and the terrors of hell and judgment are not pictured as frequently and as vividly as they used to be, but they are still a vital part of Negro song. The following songs portray the struggle with sin, the warning to the sinner, and the superior status of the sanctified as opposed to the sinner. Good Lawd, I Am Troubled Troubles makes me weep an’ moan, Goin’ where troubles be no mo’; Good Lawd, I am troubled. Troubles meet me at de do’, Goin’ where troubles be no mo’; Good Lawd, I am troubled. [193] Troubles up and troubles down, Troubles never makes me frown; Good Lawd, I am troubled. We Will Kneel ’Roun’ de Altar Lawd, help me to be mo’ humble, Lawd, help me to be mo’ humble, In dat great gittin’-up mornin’, Lawd, help me be mo’ humble in dis worl’. Chorus: We will kneel ’roun’ de altar on our knees, We will kneel ’roun’ de altar on our knees, We will kneel ’roun’ de altar Till we view de risin’ sun. O Lawd, have mercy on me. Lawd, help me be mo’ faithful, Lawd, help me be mo’ faithful in dis worl’. We will see God’s risin’ sun, Lawd, help me be mo’ humble in dis worl’. Lawd, help de widders an’ de orphans in dis worl’, Lawd, help de widders an’ de orphans in dis worl’. In dis great gittin’-up mawnin’, Lawd, help the widders an’ de orphans in dis worl’. De Devil’s Been to My House[83] De devil’s been to my house today, today, De devil’s been to my house today, today, Lawd, de devil’s been to my house today, today, De devil’s been to my house today, today. I kicked him out my do’ today, today, I kicked him out my do’ today, today, Lawd, I kicked him out my do’ today, today, I kicked him out my do’ today, today. [194] I’s goin’ sin-huntin’ today, today, I’s goin’ sin-huntin’ today, today, Lawd, I’s goin’ sin-huntin’ today, today, I’s goin’ sin-huntin’ today, today. [83]The next three songs are compositions of Sanctified Mary Harris. Have Everlastin’ Life has little originality, however. Jes’ Behol’ What a Number! Yonder comes my sister Who I’s loves so well. By her disobedience She have made her bed in hell. Chorus: Jes’ behol’ what a number! Jes’ behol’ what a number! Jes’ behol’ what a number From every grave-yard. I looks unto de eas’, I looks unto de wes’, I see de dead a-risin’ From every grave-yard. Have Everlastin’ Life Better min’, my sister, how you walk on de cross, Have on everlastin’ life, Your foot might slip an’ your soul get los’, Have everlastin’ life. Chorus: Oh, he dat believe, oh, he dat believe, He shall have on everlastin’ life. He dat believe on de father an’ de son Shall have everlastin’ life. De tallest tree in paradise, Have everlastin’ life, De Christian call it de tree of life, Put on everlastin’ life. [195] The Sanctified Say, who’s gonna ride my father’s horse? Say, who’s gonna ride my father’s horse? Say, who’s gonna ride my father’s horse? Thank God, the sanctified. Say, none can ride but the sanctified, Say, none can ride but the sanctified, Say, none can ride but the sanctified, Thank God, the sanctified. Say, Paul he rode with the sanctified, Say, Paul he rode with the sanctified, Say, Paul he rode with the sanctified, Thank God, the sanctified. No sinner rides with the sanctified, No sinner rides with the sanctified, No sinner rides with the sanctified, Thank God, I’m sanctified. What You Gonna Do? Sinner, what you gonna do When de world’s on fi-er? Sinner, what you gonna do When de world’s on fi-er? Sinner, what you gonna do When de world’s on fi-er? O my Lawd. Brother, what you gonna do? etc. Sister, what you gonna do? etc. Father, what you gonna do? etc. Mother, what you gonna do? etc. I Love Jesus Dark was de night an’ cold was de groun’ On which de Lawd had laid; Drops of sweat run down, In agony he prayed. [196] Would thou despise my bleedin’ lam’ An’ choose de way to hell, Still steppin’ down to de tomb, An’ yet prepared no mo’? I love Jesus, I love Jesus, I love Jesus, O yes, I do, Yes, Lawdy. Save Me, Lawd Lawd, have mercy, Lawd, have mercy. Lawd, have mercy, Lawd, have mercy. Save po’ me, Save po’ sinner, Save po’ sinner, Save po’ sinner, Save me, Lawd. I am a-dyin’, I am a-dyin’, I am a-dyin’, Save me, Lawd. O Lawd, bless me, O Lawd, bless me, O Lawd, bless me, O Lawd, bless me. Save po’ me, Save po’ sinner, Save po’ sinner, Save po’ sinner, Save me, Lawd. Parting and death are the subjects of the saddest songs that the Negro sings. The following songs awaken thoughts of the old folk saying their goodby’s at the last service of a revival meeting or parting after a long-hoped-for family reunion. I Bid You a Long Farewell is one of the favorites of Aunt Georgia Victrum, age eighty-three, of Jasper County, Georgia. [197] I Bid You a Long Farewell Mother, meetin’ is over, Mother, we mus’ part. If I never see you no mo’, I love you in my heart. Chorus: I bid you a long farewell, Brother, I bid you a long farewell. If I never see you no mo’ I bid you a las’ farewell. Brother, meetin’ is over, Brother, we must part. If I never see you no mo’, I love you in my heart. I Don’t Want You All to Grieve After Me I don’t want you all to grieve after me, I don’t want you all to grieve after me. Oh, when I’m dead an’ buried in my col’ silent tomb, I don’t want you all to grieve after me. An’ I will walk through the valley in peace, An’ I will walk through the valley in peace. Oh, when I’m dead an’ buried in my col’, silent tomb, I don’t want you all to grieve after me. My dear mother, don’t you grieve after me, My dear mother, don’t you grieve after me. Oh, when I’m dead an’ buried in my col’, silent tomb, I don’t want you all to grieve after me. My ol’ uncle, don’t you grieve after me, etc.[84] [84]And so on for father, sister, brother, etc., etc. When I’s Dead an’ Gone He is a dyin’-bed maker. Jesus met a woman at de well, An’ she went runnin’ home An’ tol’ her friends, “A man tol’ me all I ever done.” [198] The friends dey come a runnin’ with de woman, Saw Jesus settin’ on de well, He said he could give de livin’ water An’ save yo’ soul from hell. He is a dyin’-bed maker. When I’s dead an’ gone Somebody gonna say I’s lost, But dey ought-a go down by Jordan An’ see whar Jesus led me ’cross. When I’s dead an’ gone, I don’t want you to cry; Jus’ go on down to de ol’ church An’ close my dyin’ eye. When Jesus hangin’ on de cross, His mudder began to moan. He looked at his dear ’ciples An say, “Take my dear mudder home.” Angels Lookin’ at Me Dig my grave wid a silver spade, Angels lookin’ at me. Oh, look-a dere, look-a dere, Oh, look-a dere, look-a dere, Angels lookin’ at me. Drive me dere in a cerriage fine, Angels lookin’ at me. Oh, look-a dere, look-a dere, Oh, look-a dere, look-a dere, Angels lookin’ at me. Let me down wid a silver chain, Angels lookin’ at me, etc. All dem sinners can moan an’ weep, Angels lookin’ at me, etc. I’s settin’ in heaven in a golden cheer, Angels lookin’ at me, etc. [199] You Mus’ Shroud My Body Pray, mother, pray fer me, Pray, Lawd, until I die. You mus’ shroud my body, Lawd, An’ lay it away. Chorus: I hear Jerusalem moan, You mus’ shroud my body, Lawd, An’ lay it away. Pray, sister, pray fer me, Pray, Lawd, until I die, You mus’ shroud my body, Lawd, An’ lay it away. But death holds no terror for the Negro. He maintains that death’s stream “chills the body but not the soul,” and he believes that ’Way up in the Rock of Ages In God’s bosom gonna be my pillah. As of old, heaven is the greatest theme of his religious song. He used to sing: When I git to heaven gonna ease, ease, Me an’ my God gonna do as we please. Now wait till I gits my gospel shoes, Gonna walk about heaven an’ spread the news. Dere’s a long white robe in de heaven for me. No more hard trials in de kingdom. Gonna feast off milk an’ honey. Now he sings: I wants to go to heaven, set in de angel’s seat; I wants to go to heaven, eat what de angels eat. [200] I’s gonna be in my home in heaven When I lay my burden down. I’m swingin’ in de swinger, Gonna swing me home to heaven. I’s gonna bathe my weary soul in paradise. But let the songs speak for themselves. Among them are some which might now be famous if they had only been born seventy years ago. I Never Will Turn Back Jesus my all to heaven is gone, I never will turn back While de heaven’s in my view, He who I fix my heart upon. I never will turn back While heaven’s in my view. Chorus: I never will, I never will, I never will turn back While de heaven’s in my view. While de heaven’s in my view My journey I prosue. I never will turn back When heaven’s in my view. When I Lay My Burden Down Glory, glory, hallelujah, when I lay my burden down, Glory, glory, hallelujah, when I lay my burden down, Glory, glory, hallelujah, when I lay my burden down, I gonna be in heaven when I lay my burden down. Glory, glory, hallelujah, I’s goin’ to my home on high, Glory, glory, hallelujah, I’s goin’ to my home on high, Glory, glory, hallelujah, I’s goin’ to my home on high, I’s gonna be in my home in heaven when I lay my burden down. [201] Since I Laid My Burden Down I been shoutin’, I been shoutin’ Since I laid my burden down; I been shoutin’, I been shoutin’ Since I laid my burden down. Chorus: Glory, glory, hallelujah, Since I laid my burden down; Glory, glory, hallelujah, Since I laid my burden down. I been prayerin’, I been prayerin’ Since I laid my burden down; I been prayerin’, I been prayerin’ Since I laid my burden down. In de Mornin’ Soon Sister Sal she got on her travelin’ shoes, In de mornin’ soon, In de mornin’ soon, In de mornin’ soon. Yes, I’s goin’ to bury my weary soul In de mornin’ soon. Sinners, I hates to leave you here, Sinners, I hates to leave you here, Sinners, I hates to leave you here, ’Cause I goin’ to go to paradise In de mornin’ soon. Some o’ dese days jes’ about noon, Some o’ dese days jes’ about noon, Some o’ dese days jes’ about noon, I’s goin’ to bathe my weary soul in paradise In de mornin’ soon. [202] Oh, de Gospel Train’s A-Comin’ Oh, de gospel train’s a-comin’, Goodby, good by, good by. Oh, de gospel train’s a-comin’, Goodby. Oh, de gospel train’s a-comin’, Oh, de gospel train’s a-comin’, Oh, de gospel train’s a-comin’, Goodby. Oh, she’s comin’ ’roun’ de curve, Goodby, good by, good by. Oh, she’s comin’ ’roun’ de curve, Goodby. Oh, de train am heavy loaded, etc. Oh, sinner have you got you ticket? etc. Oh, she’s boun’ straight way to heaven, etc. Can’t you change you way o’ livin? etc. Oh, Marse Jesus am de captain, etc. Oh, de ride am free to heaven, etc. Some o’ These Days I’m a-goin’ to cross that river Jordan, I’m a-goin’ to cross that river Jordan, hal-lu-yah! I’m a-goin’ to cross that river Jordan, I’m a-goin’ to cross that river Jordan some o’ these days. I’m a-goin’ to sit down side o’ my Jesus, I’m a-goin’ to sit down side o’ my Jesus, hal-lu-yah! I’m a-goin’ to sit down side o’ my Jesus, I’m a-goin’ to sit down side o’ my Jesus some o’ these days. I’m a-goin’ to tell him how I love him, I’m a-goin’ to tell him how I love him, hal-lu-yah! I’m a-goin’ to tell him how I love him, I’m a-goin’ to tell him how I love him some o’ these days. [203] I’m a-goin’ to wear them golden slippers, I’m a-goin’ to wear them golden slippers, hal-lu-yah! I’m a-goin’ to wear them golden slippers, I’m a-goin’ to wear them golden slippers some o’ these days. I Wants to Go to Heaven I wants to go to heaven, Jine de angels’ ban’; I wants to go to heaven, Stan’ where de angels stan’. I wants to go to heaven, Have some angel wing; I wants to go to heaven, See de Jesus King. I wants to go to heaven, Shout lak de angels shout; I wants to go to heaven An’ walk about. I wants to go to heaven, Set in de angels’ seat; I wants to go to heaven, Eat what de angels eat. I wants to go to heaven, Weep when de angels weep; I wants to go to heaven Sleep where de angels sleep. When I Git Home Gonna shout trouble over When I git home, Gonna shout trouble over When I git home. No mo’ prayin’, no mo’ dyin’ When I git home, No mo’ prayin’ an’ no mo’ dyin’ When I git home. [204] Meet my father When I git home. Meet my father When I git home. Shake glad hands When I git home, Shake glad hands When I git home. Meet King Jesus When I git home, Yes, I meets King Jesus When I git home. I’s Gonna Shine I’s gonna shine Whiter dan snow, When I gits to heaven An’ dey meets me at de do’. Oh, shine, I will shine, How dey shine, glory shine, When I gits to heaven An’ dey meets me at de do’. Shine, God a’-mighty shine, All de sinners shine in de row; But I’ll be de out-shinedest When dey meets me at de do’. Oh, shine, de brudders shine, Dey sisters shine ever mo’, When we all gits to heaven An’ dey meets us at de do’. I’s Swingin’ in de Swinger[85] I’s swingin’ in de swinger, Thank God. I’s swingin’ in de swinger, Thank God. [205] It’s a bran’ new swinger, Thank God. It’s a bran’ new swinger, Thank God, Thank God. Goin’ to swing me to heaven, Thank God. Goin’ to swing me to heaven, Thank God, Thank God. King Jesus in de swinger, Thank God. King Jesus in de swinger, Thank God, Thank God. [85]The idea for this novel song probably came from Swing Low, Sweet Chariot. It is another composition of Sanctified Mary Harris, as are also the two remaining songs in this chapter. Goodby, Sing Hallelu Goodby to sin an’ sorrow, Goodby, sing hallelu. Farewell, sinner, I see you no mo’, Goodby, sing hallelu. Goodby, hypocrite, you Beelzebub, Goodby, sing hallelu. I’m goin’ away, I’ll meet you in heaven, Goodby, sing hallelu. Farewell, mother, I meet you in de mawnin’, Goodby, sing hallelu. I Calls My Jesus King Emanuel O King Emanuel, I calls my Jesus King Emanuel. King Emanuel, he’s a mighty ’Manuel, I calls my Jesus King Emanuel. Some calls him Jesus, But I call my Jesus King Emanuel. Because his power so great and strong, I calls my Jesus King Emanuel. [206] CHAPTER XII THE ANNALS AND BLUES OF LEFT WING GORDON Here is a construction camp which employs largely Negro workers. In four years 8,504 laborers were employed and there was an average labor turnover of once each month, or forty-eight different sets of men working on the buildings and road under construction during that time. This camp employed men from different Southern states in the order named: North Carolina, South Carolina, Virginia, Tennessee, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Texas, Mississippi, Louisiana; while stragglers represented eleven states outside the South. Why this turnover? Why do men travel from state to state? Of what sort are they? How many road camps and construction groups throughout the South duplicate this record? What are the experience, history, difficulties of the Negro worker by the roadside? Why does he quit his job? Where will he go for the next? The entire story of the casual laborer will, of course, have to be told elsewhere in thorough studies of migration and case studies of many individuals. It is a remarkable story, sometimes unbelievable. It is not the purpose of this chapter to go into the matter of causes, but to present a picture of the workaday songster as a sort of cumulative example of the whole story of this volume. It is true that his early home life, his training, his experience, his relation to the whites, have all influenced him greatly. It is true also that there is often slack work, poor conditions of housing and work, little recreation, small wages, and always a[207] call to some better place. But we are concerned with these here only as they are a part of the background of the picture. Here is a type perhaps more representative of the Negro common man than any other. Now a youngster of eight, father and mother dead, off to Texas to an uncle, then—“po’ mistreated boy”—he goes to Louisiana, then to Mississippi, then to Georgia, across South Carolina, back home to North Carolina, then off to Philadelphia, to Pittsburg, to Ohio, to Chicago, then back to the East and Harlem and back South again. He is typical of a part of the Negro movement of the decade. But there is continuously a stream of moving laborers from country to town, from town to town, from city to city, from state to state, from South to North. Here is hardship, but withal adventure, romance, and blind urge for survival. As an example of this worker and songster we present John Wesley Gordon, alias Left Wing[86] Gordon, commonly called “Wing.” He is very real, and one could scarcely imagine a better summary of the lonesome road, if made to order. Recent popular volumes portraying the species hobo show no wanderers arrayed like these black men of the lonesome road. Walt Whitman’s Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road Healthy and free, the world before me, The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose would seem a gentle taunt to Left Wing Gordon on the red roads of Georgia or on the Seaboard rods in “sweet ol’ Alabam’.” He had, at the last writing, given excellent tale of working, loafing, singing his way[208] through thirty-eight states of the union, with such experience and adventure as would make a white man an epic hero. “You see, boss, I started travelin’ when I wus ’leven years ol’ an’ now I’ll be thirty this comin’ August 26th. I didn’t have no father an’ mother, so I jes’ started somewheres. I’d work fer folks, an’ they wouldn’t treat me right, so I moved on. An’, Lawd, cap’n, I ain’t stopped yet.” And so he hadn’t, for when on the morrow we came to put the finishing touches on his story, a fellow laborer said, “Law’, boss, Wing done gone to Philadelphia.” [86]So called because he had lost his right arm. “Wing,” who started from St. Joseph in Missouri, lost his arm at eighteen years of age. He gives the following concrete data about some of the places where he has worked and loafed. What story might have been written if we had taken the states alphabetically, asking him for full details, with plenty of time, one can only imagine. Here is the order in which he volunteered information about the different states, in the geography of which he appears to be something of a scholar. The phraseology belongs to Wing and the inconsistencies remain as in his Iliad. Louisiana. Worked on boat some an’ saw-mill some. Florida. Worked on hard roads. Alabama. Worked in steel plants six miles from Birmingham. Texas. Didn’t do nothin’ in Texas, had a little money to spend. Arkansas. Worked at H—— Hotel at New Port, fellow runnin’ name Jack N——. Missouri. Worked on boat. Illinois. Sold papers in Chicago, started mowin’ lawns, white-washin’ fences, brushin’ furniture, an’ worked in packin’ house. [209] Wyoming. Had a little money in Cheyenne an’ didn’t have nothin’ to do. Nebraska. At Omaha worked at packin’ house. Iowa. Worked in mines and on railroad. Canada. Worked at government camp ’cross from Detroit, an’ broom factory at Montreal. Michigan. Worked at Ford factory at district on P. & M. railroad out north of Detroit. Kansas. In harvest fields ’bout 37 miles from Leavenworth—Naw sir, never been in Leavenworth prisons. North Carolina. On a job. Arizona. Didn’t do nothin’ much. South Carolina. On hard roads an’ Southern Power Company. Georgia. Comin’ in a hurry, never fooled ’round there much. Did work in saw mill eight miles out from Waycross two weeks. Tennessee. Out at Knoxville and Maysville at maloominum plant. Mississippi. In boats at Vicksburg and Natchez. Virginia. Worked most everywhere—Richmond at Broad Meadows, 1227 Brook Avenue. New York. Out at Bessemer plants stirrin’ pots. Washington. At Alexandria, Virginia side. Ohio. Worked for Mayor of Bridgeport, named C. J—. West Virginia. At coal mines. Pennsylvania. Worked in Pittsburg steel mills eight miles from Pittsburg. Maryland. I’s in Baltimore, had boat carry us out an’ bring us back, Double A flashlight factory at 47 cents a hour. New Jersey. Cross from New York, four miles from Nooark, work on Hansack River. Wisconsin. Used to work out o’ Milwaukee, butler on C. B. & Q. road; eight miles out but we stayed in Milwaukee. [210] Connecticut. Used to ketch boat an’ go over to New Haven, Hartford, Thomasville, eight miles out from Springfiel’, Massachusetts. Massachusetts. Springfiel’ and Boston, too. Didn’t work none in Boston but had sister there. Rhode Island. Never stopped there but I could walk all over that little state. Hartford is capital. North Dakota. Wiped up engine on Great Northern, 237 miles from Minneapolis. South Dakota. Worked out in Aberdeen in wheat fields, harvest for Al T——, mostly carried water. California. When war was goin’ on, time of government camp at Los Angeles an’ Sacramento an’ Miles City. Wing was also a great songster. “When de ‘Wing Blues’ come out, dat’s me,” he would say. His chief refrain was always O my babe, you don’t know my min’, When you see me laughin’, Laughin’ to keep from cryin’,[87] of which he had many versions. This chorus was easily adapted to a hundred songs and varied accordingly. “When you see me laughin’, I’m laughin’ just to keep from cryin’,” or “I’m tryin’ to keep from cryin’,” or “When you think I’m laughin’, I’m cryin’ all the time.” There were his other versions, such as O my babe, you don’t know my min’, When you think I’m lovin’ you I’m leavin’ you behin’, with its similar variety, such as “I’m leavin’ to worry you off my min’,” or “When you think I’m leavin’[211] I’m comin’ right behin’.” Wing claimed a “Blues” for every state and more; if there was none already at hand, he would make one of his own. There were the various Southern blues, the Boll Weevil Blues, Cornfield Blues, Gulf Coast Blues, Atlanta Blues, Alabama Blues, Birmingham Blues, Mississippi Blues, Louisiana Low Down, Shreveport Blues, New Orleans Wiggle, Norfolk Blues, Virginia Blues, Oklahoma Blues, Memphis Blues, Wabash Blues, St. Louis Blues, Carolina Blues, Charleston Blues, and many others. [87]One of the most popular blues today is a piece called You Don’t Know My Mind Blues. We have evidence, however, which tends to show that numerous vulgar versions of the same title were current among the Negroes long before the formal song was published. It must be admitted that Wing’s blues were mixed and of wonderful proportions. He could sing almost any number of blues, fairly representative of the published type, with, of course, the typical additions, variations, and adaptations to time and occasion. Ohio, Ohio, West Virgini, too, De blues dis nigger’s had only very few. What you gonna do? Lawd, what you gonna do? When I come from New York, Walkin’ ’long the way, People pick me up Jes’ to get me to pay, Ain’t my place to live, Anyway you can’t stay here. O Illinois Central, What can you spare? Fo’ my baby’s in trouble An’ I ain’t dere. Hey, Lawdy, Lawdy, I got crazy blues, Can’t keep from cryin’, Thinkin’ about that baby o’ mine. Lawd, I woke up dis mornin’, Found my baby gone, Missed her from rollin’ An’ tumblin’ in my arms. [212] O Lawd, if I feel tomorrow Lak I feel to-day, Good God, gonna pack my suitcase, Lawd, an’ walk away. I’d rather be in jail, Standin’ like a log, Than be here Treated like a dog. Creek’s all muddy, Pond’s gone dry, I never miss my baby Till she said goodby. Well, I went to graveyard An’ looked in my baby’s face, Said, “I love you, sweet baby, Jes’ can’t take yo’ place.” Whistle blowed on, Church bell softly toned; Well, I had good woman But po’ girl dead an’ gone. Well, I woke up dis mornin’, Had blues all ’round my bed; I believe to my soul Blues gonna kill me dead. O baby, you don’t know my min’. When you think I’m laughin’, Laughin’ to keep from cryin’, Laughin’ to keep from cryin’. Wing called that the Louisiana Blues, and certainly for the time being it was so. And for Georgia, although in his narrative he had given the Empire State of the South the usual Negro reputation of quick passage, he sang a mixed blues. [213] Dear ol’ Georgia, my heart is sinkin’ An’ my way come blinkin’ to you, If you ever leave Georgia any length o’ time, Yo’ heart come blinkin’, no other way but you, Can’t be no other way.[88] Then for Alabama, Tennessee, Florida, California, Virginia, there were other fragments, besides numerous formal versions. Alabama, Tennessee, I wrote my mother letter. Don’t write back to me, Reason I tell you, I got de ’fo’-day blues. I got de Florida blues, Hey, mama, hey, baby, I got de crazy blues, Hey, baby, you don’t know my min’, When you think I’m leavin’, I’m comin’ all the time. I ain’t got no money, No place to stay. Hey, baby, hey, honey, I got de Florida blues. I got Elgin watch Made on yo’ frame. Hey, baby, hey, honey, I got Florida blues. California ridden, Don’t think I’m didden, De reason I’m tellin’ you, I have no place to stay. Mother an’ father dead, Done gone away, I’m a lonesome boy, Got nowhere to stay. [214] Hey, mama, hey, baby, I got de ’fo’-day blues. I’m California ridden, I got de California blues. California in U. S., Dat is where my love lie, An’ she will treat me best, You all take Alexander for ol’ plaything, But Alexander no name for you. O baby, you don’t know my min’, When you think I’m lovin’ you, I’m leavin’ you behin’. [88]This and many other of Wing’s stanzas have no clear meaning as far as we can tell. Sometimes his songs give the impression that he has learned the titles of numerous popular blues and has woven as many of them as possible into each stanza. Before continuing Left Wing’s story, giving something more of the scope of his adventures, perhaps the best further introduction will be the exact record of some of his songs in the order in which he gave them. Wing had practically no variation in his tunes and technique of singing. A high-pitched voice, varied with occasional low tones, was the most important part of his repertoire. But what variation in words and scenes, phrases and verses, the recording of which would exhaust the time and endurance of the listener and call for an ever-recording instrument! For certainly the effort to transcribe everything Wing gave left the visitor amazingly exhausted, marveling at the jumbled resourcefulness of the singer, wishing for some new type of photography which would register the voice, looks, experience, and inimitable temperament of this itinerant camp follower. Anna yo’ peaches, but I’s yo’ man. How I wonder where you goin’ to-day, That my mother an’ father have nowhere to stay. Would you take them in, oh, would you take them in? How I love you, how I love you, Would you take me in, would you take me in? Anna yo’ peaches, but I’s yo man, Would you take me in, would you take me in? [215] Lawd, I woke up dis mornin’, Couldn’t keep from cryin’, Thinkin’ about that Lovin’ babe o’ mine. O my babe, you don’t know my min’, O you don’t know my min’. When you think I’m laughin’, I’m cryin’ all de time. Reason I love you so, ’Cause my heart is true, Reason I love you so, I’m goin’ ’way. I’m goin’ ’way to worry you off my min’. Reason I think you worry, I’m ’way all the time, I got de ’fo’-day blues. You put yo’ coat on yo’ shoulder, You want to walk away, You got yo’ lovin’ baby, You want a place to stay. Well, I love you, baby, God knows I do. Reason I love you, Yo’ heart is true. Reason I love you, Got de weary blues. Differing slightly in tone, Wing sets out on a new song only to swing back again to the same lonesome blues; indeed he makes his technique and his whines as he goes, the result blending into a remarkable product. Eddy Studow been here, You got de so long well, ’Cause I feel you sinkin’, Easin’ down to hell, O sweet baby, you don’t know my min’, ’Cause when you think I’m laughin’, I’m cryin’. [216] If you don’t b’lieve I’m sinkin’, Jes’ look what a hole I’m in. If you don’t b’lieve I love you, Jes’ look what a fool I been. O sweet baby, you don’t know my min’. When you think I’m lovin’ you, I’m leavin’ you behin’. O baby, jes’ ship my clo’es out in valise, O baby, jes’ ship my clo’es out in valise. Reason I tell you ship ’em, Yo’ heart I don’t believe. Thought I woke up yesterday, My heart was very sick, ’Cause reason I love you. ’Day’s nearer pay day. The reason I love my lovin’ baby so, Oh, reason I love my lovin’ baby so, ’Cause if she make five dollars She sho’ bring her father fo’. Yes, it’s hey, sweet baby, You don’t know my min’. ’Cause it’s hey, sweet baby. You don’t know my min’. When you think I’m laughin’, Laughin’ jes’ to keep from cryin’. O Lawd, what you gonna say, I need de woman for de money, I got no place to stay. For de reason I love my lovin’ baby so, When she make eight dollahs, Sho’ bring her father fo’. Ruther see you dead, Floatin’ in yo’ grave; Ruther see you dead, Lawd, floatin’ in yo’ grave. Than be here, Lawd, Treated dis a-way. [217] Geech had my woman An’ two or three mo’; Oh, de Geech had my woman An’ two or three mo’. He’s a hard headed man An’ won’t let me go. I wake up dis mornin’, Feet half-way out de bed, Lawd, I wake up dis mornin’, Oh, de blues you give me Sho’ gonna kill me dead. Left Wing’s story of his wanderings does not omit, of course, the woman part of his “lovin’ worl’.” Try as he might to sing of other experiences, inevitably he would swing back to his old theme. I ruther be dead In six feet o’ clay, Than to see my baby, Lawd, treated dis a-way. Well, I love my baby, I tell the worl’ I do, But reason I love her, Her heart is true. Gonna lay my head On some ol’ railroad iron, Das de only way, baby, To worry you off my min’. I went to depot, I looked up on de boa’d, My baby ain’t here, But she’s somewhere on de road. But I’m goin’ to town, Goin’ to ask chief police, Fo’ my baby done quit me An’ I can’t have no peace. [218] An’ I’m goin’ away, baby, To worry you off my min’, ’Cause you keep me worried An’ bothered all de time. I wonder whut’s de matter, Lawd, I can’t see. You love some other man, sweet woman, An’ you don’t love me. Befo’ I’d stay here An’ let these women mistreat me, I’d do like a bull frog, Jump in de deep blue sea. Wing, however, does not jump into the deep blue sea, although like the other traditional bull frog he does jump from place to place. Concerning the women about whom he sings, he affirmed, “Can’t count ’em, take me day after tomorrow to count ’em. Find fifteen or twenty in different cities. New Orleans best place to find most fastest, mo’ freer women,—person find gang of ’em in minute. “But I had some mighty fine women. Fust one was Abbie Jones, ’bout —— Ioway Street. Nex’ was in M——, Missouri, Jennie Baker, Susan Baker’s daughter. Nex’ one St. Louis, lady called Bulah Cotton, Pete Cotton’s daughter. Nex’ one was in Eas’ St. Louis, her name Sylvia Brown. Nex’ I had in Poplar Bluff, one dat took my money an’ went off, Effie Farlan, had father name George Farlan. Nex’ Laura, she’s in Memphis, Tennessee, she’s ’nother took my money an’ gone. Jes’ lay down, went to sleep, jes’ took money an’ gone. Wake up sometimes broke an’ hongry, they jes’ naturally take my money. Nex’ woman was at Columbia, S. C., ’bout las’ regular one I had, Mamie Willard, mother an’ father dead. Sweethearts I can git plenty of if I got money. If I[219] ain’t got none I’se sometimes lonesome, but not always, ’cause sometimes dey feel sorry fer you an’ treat you mighty fine anyway.” Wing tells some remarkable stories, evidently products of the perfect technique of appeal and approach, in which formality and easy-going ways are blended with great patience and persistence. This series of adventures alone would make a full sized volume albeit there is no need to publish it abroad. Typical, however, are the chant verses below. I seed a pretty brown, Lawd, walkin’ down the street, I sided long up to her, Said, “Lady, I ain’t had nothin’ to eat.” Lawd, she don’t pay me no min’, Walkin’ wid her head hung high. But still I knows I’ll git dat gal by an’ by. So I walks up behin’ her, And asts her good an’ polite, “Miss, can you tell me Where po’ boy can stay tonight?” Still she don’t pay me no min’, An’ she’s movin’ on her way, I asks her, “Good Lawd, lady, Where can po’ boy stay?” I ast her to tell me If she knows girl name Sady, ’Cause if she does, I’s her man Brady. Co’se I don’t know no Sady An’ I could git place to stay, But I wants to stay wid dis lady, So I walks on her way. [220] So she takes me to her home An’ makes me pallet on de flo’; An’ she treats me, baby, Better ’n I been treated befo’. Wing says he never stays in any place more than three weeks, “leastwise never mo’ ’n fo’.” Sometimes he walks, sometimes he rides the rods, sometimes when money is plentiful he rides in the cars. He has had his tragic and his comic experiences. The spirit of the road is irrevocably fixed in him and he can think in no other terms. Some day a Negro artist will paint him, a Negro story teller will tell his story, a “high she’ff” will arrest him, a “jedge” will sentence him, a “cap’n” will “cuss” him, he will “row here few days longer,” then he’ll be gone. [221] CHAPTER XIII JOHN HENRY: EPIC OF THE NEGRO WORKINGMAN Left Wing Gordon was and is a very real person, “traveling man” de luxe in the flesh and blood. Not so John Henry, who was most probably a mythical character. Whatever other studies may report, no Negro whom we have questioned in the states of North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia has ever seen or known of John Henry personally or known any one who has, although it is well understood that he was “mos’ fore-handed steel-drivin’ man in the world.” Still he is none the less real as a vivid picture and example of the good man hero of the race. Although, like the story of Left Wing, the John Henry ballad carries its own intrinsic merit, this song of the black Paul Bunyan of the Negro workingman is significant for other reasons. It is, first of all, a rare creation of considerable originality, dignity and interest. It provides an excellent study in diffusion, and, as soon as the settings, variations, comparisons, and adaptations have been completed, will deserve a special brochure. For the purposes of this volume, however, we shall present simply the John Henry ballad in the forms and versions heard within the regions of this collection, with some comparative evidence of the workingman’s varied mirror of his hero. John Henry is still growing in reputation and in stature and in favor with the Negro singer, ranging in repute from the ordinary fore-handed steel-driving man to a martyred president of the United States struck down, with the[222] hammer in his hand, by some race assassin. One youth reminiscent of all that he had heard, and minded to make his version complete, set down this: When John Henry was on his popper’s knee, The dress he wore it was red; And the las’ word he said, “I gonna die with the hammer in my hand.” We have found a few Negroes who were not clear in their minds about Booker T. Washington, but we have found none in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia who had not heard something some time about John Henry. In other places, however, in Mississippi and Maryland, for instance, we understand he is not so well known. To trace the story of the ballad to its origin[89] is a difficult task and one awaiting the folk-lorist; but to gather these samples of this sort of nomad ballad is a comparatively easy and always delightful task. [89]Prof. J. H. Cox traces John Henry to a real person, John Hardy, a Negro who had a reputation in West Virginia as a steel driver and who was hanged for murder in 1894. We are inclined to believe that John Henry was of separate origin and has become mixed with the John Hardy story in West Virginia. We have never found a Negro who knew the song as John Hardy, and we have no versions which mention the circumstance of the murder and execution. For Cox’s discussion and several versions of John Hardy, see his Folk-Songs of The South, pp. 175-188; also Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 32, p. 505 et seq. Bibliographies will be found in these references. There are many versions of the common story. Some hold that John Henry’s “captain” made a large wager with the boss of the steel-driving crew that John Henry could beat the steam drill down, and that John Henry did succeed but died with the last stroke of his hammer. Others claim that the wager was John Henry’s own doing and that he never could stand the new-fangled steam contraption. Leastwise he died with the hammer in his hand, some claiming in the mountain drilling stone, others in railroad cuts or tunnels[223] of various roads recently under construction. But in all cases the central theme is the same: John Henry, powerful steel-driving man, races with the steam-drill and dies with the hammer in his hand. Of the fragments or variations of John Henry there seems to be no end. One at Columbia, South Carolina, sets the standard of conduct as at par with John Henry and affirms that “If I could hammer like John Henry, I’d bro-by, Lawd, I’d bro-by,” which was interpreted to mean the act of passing by the whole procession of steel drivers. An Atlanta version represented John Henry as sitting on his mother’s knee, whereupon she “looked in his face an’ say, ‘John Henry, you’ll be the death o’ me’.” Another fragment from an old timer, self-styled “full-handed musicianer,” described John Henry as a steel driver who “always drove the steel” and always “beat the steam drill down,” and added that if he could drill like John Henry he would “beat all the steam drills down.” While most of the versions limited John Henry to steel driving on mountain or railroad, nevertheless there seems to be a general idea that he took turns at being a railroad man, not in the sense of working on the railroad section gangs but as an engineer, perhaps a skilled one. Part of this is the natural story centering around the logical outcome of a railroad man, and part is corruption of the Casey Jones and other noted engineer songs. One opening stanza has it, John Henry was a little boy, He was leanin’ on his father’s knee, Say, “That big wheel turnin’ on Air Line Road, Will sure be death o’ me,” while still others thought the K. C. or Frisco or C. & O. roads would be fatal. In the colloquial story, part of[224] which is given later, John Henry usually told his mother and friends, just as did Jagooze and the other railroad men, about his proprietary powers in the noted railroads across the continent. Then there were the references to his firemen and “riders” and the fear of a wreck. Sometimes, as indicative of the changing form, the singer switches off from the standard John Henry lines to some other, like “goin’ up Decatur wid hat in my hand, lookin’ for woman ain’t got no man.” For the most part, however, the versions are rather consistent. The chief differences have to do with minor details. The main story is always the same. We are now presenting a dozen or more versions of the song, beginning with what may be called the purer or more composite versions and ending with versions that have strayed far from the simple story of John Henry. The first is a common Chapel Hill version, but even that is varied almost as often as it is sung by different groups. In this and the other versions, John Henry’s wife or woman becomes in turn Delia Ann, Lizzie Ann, Polly Ann, or whatever other Ann may be thought of as representing an attractive person. Sometimes John Henry carried her in the “palm of his hand,” as indeed he is also reported to have carried his little son. When a child, John Henry also sat on his father’s knee as well as his mother’s. Sometimes it was seven-, sometimes nine-, sometimes ten-pound hammer that would be the death of him. Sometimes it was the C. & O. tunnel, sometimes steel, sometimes the hammer which was going to bring him down. [225] John Henry[90] A John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man, Carried his hammer all the time; ’Fore he’d let the steam drill beat him down, Die wid his hammer in his han’, Die wid his hammer in his han’. John Henry went to the mountain, Beat that steam drill down; Rock was high, po’ John was small, Well, he laid down his hammer an’ he died, Laid down his hammer an’ he died. John Henry was a little babe Sittin’ on his daddy’s knee, Said, “Big high tower on C. & O. road Gonna be the death o’ me, Gonna be the death o’ me.” John Henry had a little girl, Her name was Polly Ann. John was on his bed so low, She drove with his hammer like a man, Drove with his hammer like a man. [90]The music of this version is given in Chapter XIV. For the music of a version of John Hardy, see Campbell and Sharp, English Folk-Songs From The Southern Appalachians, p. 87. There is available also a very good phonograph version of John Henry. B John Henry was a little boy Sittin’ on his papa’s knee, Say, “Papa you know I’m boun’ to die, This hammer be the death of me.” John Henry say one day, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I’ll be dogged aroun’ I’ll die wid de hammer in my han’.” [226] John Henry said to his captain, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man. Befo’ I work from sun to sun I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man, Carried hammer all time in his han’; Befo’ he let you beat him down He’d die wid de hammer in his han’. John Henry had a little girl, Name was Polly Ann. John Henry was on his dyin’ bed, O Lawd, She drove with his hammer like a man. John Henry went up to the mountain To beat that steel drill down; But John Henry was so small, rock so high, Laid down his hammer an’ he died. C John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man. He drove so steady an’ hard; Well, they put John Henry in head to drive, He laid down his hammer an’ he cried. Up stepped girl John Henry loved, She throwed up her hands and flew, She ’clare to God, “John Henry, I been true to you.” “O where did you get yo’ new shoes from, O’ dat dress dat you wear so fine?” “I got my shoes from a railroad man, My dress from a driver in de mine.” John Henry had a little wife, Dress she wore was blue, An’ she declare to God, “I always been true to you.” [227] John Henry was a little boy Sittin’ on his papa’s knee, He said to his papa, “Drivin’ steel Is gonna be the death of me.” D John Henry was a coal black man, Chicken chocolate brown; “Befo’ I let your steamer get me down, I die wid my hammer in my han’, Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry had a pretty little woman, She rode that Southbound train; She stopped in a mile of the station up there, “Let me hear John Henry’s hammer ring, Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry sittin’ on the left-han’ side An’ the steam drill on the right; The rock it was so large an’ John Henry so small, He laid down his hammer an’ he cried, “Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry had a pretty little woman, Her name was Julie Ann, She walked through the lan’ with a hammer in her han’, Sayin’, “I drive steel like a man, Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry had a little woman, Her name was Julie Ann; John Henry took sick on his work one day, An’ Julie Ann drove steel like a man, Lawd, Lawd. John Henry had a pretty little boy, Sittin’ in de palm of his han’; He hugged an’ kissed him an’ bid him farewell, “O son, do the best you can, Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry was a little boy Sittin’ on his papa’s knee, Looked down at a big piece o’ steel, Saying, “Papa, that’ll be the death o’ me, Lawd, Lawd.” [228] John Henry had a pretty little woman, The dress she wore was red, She went down the track an’ never did look back, Sayin’, “I’m goin’ where John Henry fell dead, Lawd, Lawd.” John Henry had a pretty little girl, The dress she wore was blue, She followed him to the graveyard sayin,’ “John Henry I’ve been true to you, Lawd, Lawd.” E John Henry had a little wife, Name was Julia Ann; John Henry got sick on his dyin’ bed, Julia drove steel like a man, O Lawd, Julia drove steel like a man. John Henry had a little woman, The dress she wore was red, Went down the track, never look back, “Goin’ where my man is dead, Lawd, goin’ where may man is dead.” John Henry was a little boy Sittin’ on his father’s knee, Say, “Ten-pound hammer gonna be the death o’ me, Lawd, gonna be the death o’ me.” John Henry went up to the rock, Carried his hammer in his han’, Rock was so tall, John Henry was so small, Laid down his hammer an’ he died. Lawd, laid down his hammer an’ he died. John Henry had a little woman An’ she always dressed in blue, She went down track, never look back, Say, “John Henry I’m always true to you, Lawd, I’m always true to you.” [229] John Henry on the right side, Steam drill on the lef’; “Befo’ I’ll let you beat me down I die wid de hammer in my han’, Lawd, I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” “Who gonna shoe yo’ pretty little feet,[91] Who gonna comb yo’ bangs? Who gonna kiss yo’ rose-red lips, Who gonna be yo’ man? Lawd, who gonna be yo’ man?” “Sweet Papa gonna shoe yo’ pretty little feet, Sister gonna comb yo’ bangs, Mama gonna kiss yo’ rose-red lips, John Henry gonna be yo’ man, Lawd, John Henry gonna be yo’ man.” “Where you get them high top shoes, That dress you wear so fine?” “Got my shoes from a railroad man, My dress from a worker in mine, Lawd, my dress from worker in mine.” John Henry said to his captain, “Man is nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I let this rock beat me down I’d die wid de hammer in may han’, Lawd, I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” [91]Stanzas of this kind are frequent in John Henry. They came originally from the old English ballad, The Lass of Roch Royal. See Child, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads, No. 76. F John Henry had a little woman, The dress she wore was red; She went on down the railroad track, Say, “Goin’ where John Henry fall dead.” John Henry said to his captain, “Lawd, a man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I let a man beat me down I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” [230] John Henry said to his woman, “Who gonna shoe yo’ little feet? Who gonna kiss yo’ rosy cheeks? Who gonna be yo’ man? “Where you get them high top shoes, That dress you wear so fine?” “Got my shoes from a railroad man, My dress from a man in the mine.” G John Henry said to his captain, “Captain, befo’ you leave this town, If you give me another drink of your corn I’ll beat yo’ steel drill down.” Hammer on the right side, Bucket on the lef’, “Befo’ I let you beat me down I hammer myself to death.” John Henry up on the mountain top, Say, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I let you beat me down I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” John Henry was a little boy, He set on his mother’s knee, Cryin’, “O Lord, nine-pound hammer Gonna be the death o’ me.” H John Henry had a little wife An’ he carried her in the palm of his han’, He hug an’ kiss her an’ bid her farewell An’ told her do the bes’ she can. Chorus: John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man, John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man, John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man, John Henry was a steel-drivin’ man. [231] John Henry was a little boy Sittin’ on his mother’s knee, Say, “Tunnel on C. & O. road Gonna be the death o’ me.” John Henry said to his shaker,[92] “Shaker, you better pray; If I make this six-foot jump, Tomorrow ’ll be yo’ buryin’ day.” John Henry had a little woman, Name was Polly Ann, She took a big hammer an’ went to the hills, Polly Ann drive steel like a man. [92]The “shaker” is the man who holds the drill upright and turns it between the strokes of the hammer. I John Henry told his captain, “Hand me down my time, I can make more money on Georgia Southern Road Than I can on old Coast Line.” John Henry told his captain, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I let you beat me drivin’ steel I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” John Henry had a little woman, The dress she wore was red, Las’ word I heard her say, “Goin’ where my man fall dead.” John Henry told his captain, “Captain, when you go to town, Bring me back a ten-pound hammer So I can drive this steel on down.” J John Henry told his captain, “A man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Befo’ I work from sun to sun I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.” [232] John Henry had a little woman, Dress she wore was red; Goin’ down railroad weepin’ and cryin’, Goin’ where John Henry fall dead. Say, I ain’t gonna work much longer, Ain’t gonna work on no farm; An’ I’m gonna stay here till pay-day, Ain’t gonna do nobody no harm. “Where’d you git them pretty little shoes? Where’d you git that dress so fine?” “Got my shoes from a railroad man, Dress from a man in the mine.” “Who’s gonna shoe yo’ pretty little feet? Who’s gonna comb yo’ bangs? Who’s gonna kiss yo’ rosy cheeks? Who’s gonna be yo’ man? “Papa gonna shoe yo’ pretty little feet, Sister gonna comb yo’ bangs; Mama gonna kiss yo’ rosy cheeks, John Henry gonna be yo’ man.” John Henry had a little woman, Name was Polly Ann; John Henry got sick an’ couldn’t hit a lick, Polly Ann hit steel like a man. John Henry told his captain, “Captain, when you go to town, Oh, bring me back a nine-pound hammer So I can drive this steel on down.” John Henry was a little boy Settin’ on his papa’s knee, Say, “The tunnel on the L. & N. Gonna be the death o’ po’ me.” John Henry had a little girl, Name was Nellie Ann; John Henry took sick an’ had to go home, Every day po’ Nellie drove steel like a man. [233] John Henry had a little pistol, He carried it around in his han’ Well, look way over in Southwest, You will find a steel-drivin’ man. “Who gonna buy yo’ pretty little shoes? Who gonna be yo’ man? Who gonna buy yo’ dress so fine? While I’m in some distant lan’?” John Henry bought a pistol, Put it up in forty-fo’ frame, He look over in Southwest, Spied that steel-drivin’ man. John Henry’s wife settin’ on do’-step cryin’, Say, “Where po’ John Henry gone?” John Henry’s wife settin’ on do’-step cryin’, Say, “Where po’ John Henry gone?” John Henry’s wife said to his chillun, “Little chillun, don’t you worry none, ’Cause mama goin’ down to steel-drivin’ place Where po’ daddy done gone.” Children come runnin’ and cryin’, “Mama, what we gonna do? News done reach gran’ma’s do’, Papa done fall stone dead.” People went up in the mountain, Say mountain was fallin’ in. John Henry say it was sad mistake, “Nothin’ but my hammer in the win’.” John Henry say to his captain, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man, Oh, befo’ I let steel drill beat me down I die wid de hammer in my han’.” John Henry say to his captain, “I have been with you ninety-nine-years, An’, captain, you don’t hurry nobody, But always hurry me.” [234] K John Henry was a little boy, Was settin’ ’roun’ playin’ in the san’, Two young ladies come a-ridin’ by, Say, “I want you to be my man.” John Henry was a little boy, Settin’ on his mamy’s knee, Say, “Dat ol’ nine-poun’ hammer Gonna be the death o’ me.” John Henry was a cruel boy, Never did look down; But when he start to drivin’ steel He ever-mo’ did drive it down. John Henry went to cap’n Monday All worried in his min’, Say, “Give me a heavy axe, Let me tear dis ol’ mountain down.” John Henry told the captain, “Cap’n, when you go to town, Bring me back a ten-poun’ hammer An’ I lay dis ol’ sev’n-poun’ down.” John Henry went to captain, “What mo’ you want me to have? Say, han’ me drink o’ ol’ white gin, An’ I’ll be a steel-drivin’ man.” John Henry had a little woman, The dress she wore was red, She went down de track, never look back, Say, “I goin’ where my man fall dead.” “Who gonna shoe my pretty little feet? Mommer gonna glove my han’. Popper gonna kiss my rosy cheeks, John Henry gonna be my man.” [235] John Henry went to captain, Say, “Man ain’t nothin’ but a man. Befo’ I let you beat me down I die wid de hammer in my han’.” John Henry had a little woman, Name was Lizzie Ann. Say she got her dress from man in mine An’ her shoes from railroad man. John Henry on right, Steam drill on lef’, “Befo’ I let steam drill beat me down I’ll drive my fool self to death. “I drill all time, I drill all day, I drill all way from Rome To Decatur in one day.” John Henry say, “Tell my mother If she want to see me, Buy ticket all way to Frisco.” John Henry on way to Frisco, Wid orders in his han’, Say, “All you rounders who want to flirt, Here come a woman wid a hobble-skirt.” John Henry say to his captain Befo’ he lef’ town, “If you give me ’nother drink o’ yo’ co’n, I’ll beat yo’ steel drill down.” It would take a large volume to record all of the ways in which John Henry is known to the Negro worker and singer. He is known far and wide in song and story and he is the hero of hundreds of thousands of black toilers. Negroes who do work that requires rhythmic movements, such as digging or driving steel, naturally like to dwell upon the thought of the great[236] John Henry, and they make work songs about the great hero. The four songs which follow are not only good examples of this kind of work song, but reveal something of the worker’s feeling for John Henry. Dis Here Hammer Kill John Henry Dis here hammer, hammer Kill John Henry, Kill John Henry; Dis here hammer, hammer Kill John Henry, Can’t kill me, O Lawd, can’t kill me. If I Could Hammer Like John Henry If I could hammer like John Henry, If I could hammer like John Henry, Lawd, I’d be a man, Lawd, I’d be a man. If I could hammer like John Henry, If I could hammer like John Henry, I’d bro-by, Lawd, I’d bro-by. Nine-poun’ hammer kill John Henry, Nine-poun’ hammer kill John Henry, Won’t kill me, Lawd, won’t kill me. I been hammerin’, All ’roun’ mountain, Won’t kill me, babe, Lawd, won’t kill me. Heard Mighty Rumblin’ Heard mighty rumblin’, Heard mighty rumblin’, Heard mighty rumblin’ Under the groun’. [237] Well, heard mighty rumblin’, Under the groun’, Under the groun’, Mus’ be John Henry turnin’ aroun’. Up on the mountain, Up on the mountain, Well, up on the mountain, Heard John Henry cryin’. Heard John Henry cryin’, Heard John Henry cryin’, Well, I heard John Henry cryin’, “An’ I won’t come down.” John Henry Was a Man o’ Might John Henry was a man o’ might, John Henry was a man o’ might, John Henry was a man o’ might, He beat de iron man down. John Henry had a hammer han,’[93] An’ he beat de iron man down. “Lawd, Lawd, boss,” he cried, “De iron man too much fo’ me.” An’ dey laid John Henry low, He won’t swing dat hammer no mo’. John Henry was big an’ strong But de iron man brung ’im down. John Henry was big an’ brown But de iron man brung him down. John Henry say, “I got to go, I can’t swing de ball no mo’.” John Henry was a mighty man, An’ he swing dat hammer. [93]The first line of each stanza is sung three times as indicated in the first stanza. [238] In story John Henry’s deeds often assume magnificent proportions. Indeed, the stories about him are in many respects more interesting than the songs, for the stories usually have more range and reflect more imagination than the songs. Occasionally one can find a Negro who will tell the story simply and without exaggeration, but one usually gets a version which is more or less embellished with the legendary attributes and attainments of John Henry. In the following story, John Henry is credited with such powers as would make him a close rival of Paul Bunyan himself.[94] [94]This story was recorded at Chapel Hill, N. C., but, as far as we can tell it came originally from Stone Mountain, Ga. It is given as nearly as possible in the words in which it was told. “One day John Henry lef’ rock quarry on way to camp an’ had to go through woods an’ fiel’. Well, he met big black bear an’ didn’t do nothin’ but shoot ’im wid his bow an’ arrer, an’ arrer went clean through bear an’ stuck in big tree on other side. So John Henry pulls arrer out of tree an’ pull so hard he falls back ’gainst ’nother tree which is full o’ flitterjacks, an’ first tree is full o’ honey, an’ in pullin’ arrer out o’ one he shaken down honey, an’ in failin’ ’gainst other he shaken down flitterjacks. Well, John Henry set there an’ et honey an’ flitterjacks an’ set there an’ et honey an’ flitterjacks, an’ after while when he went to git up to go, button pop off’n his pants an’ kill a rabbit mo’ ’n hundred ya’ds on other side o’ de tree. An’ so up jumped brown baked pig wid sack o’ biscuits on his back, an’ John Henry et him too. “So John Henry gits up to go on through woods to camp for supper, ’cause he ’bout to be late an’ he mighty hongry for his supper. John Henry sees lake down hill and thinks he’ll git him a drink o’ water, cause he’s thirsty, too, after eatin’ honey an’ flitterjacks an’[239] brown roast pig an’ biscuits, still he’s hongry yet. An’ so he goes down to git drink water an’ finds lake ain’t nothin’ but lake o’ honey, an’ out in middle dat lake ain’t nothin but tree full o’ biscuits. An’ so John Henry don’t do nothin’ but drink dat lake o’ honey dry. An’ he et the tree full o’ biscuits, too. “An’ so ’bout that time it begin’ to git dark, an’ John Henry sees light on hill an’ he think maybe he can git sumpin to eat, cause he’s mighty hongry after big day drillin’. So he look ’roun’ an’ see light on hill an’ runs up to house where light is an’ ast people livin’ dere, why’n hell dey don’t give him sumpin’ to eat, ’cause he ain’t had much. An’ so he et dat, too. “Gee-hee, hee, dat nigger could eat! But dat ain’t all, cap’n. Dat nigger could wuk mo’ ’n he could eat. He’s greates’ steel driller ever live, regular giaunt, he wus; could drill wid his hammer mo’ ’n two steam drills, an’ some say mo’ ’n ten. Always beggin’ boss to git ’im bigger hammer, always beggin’ boss git ’im bigger hammer. John Henry wus cut out fer big giaunt driller. One day when he wus jes’ few weeks ol’ settin’ on his mammy’s knee he commence cryin’ an’ his mommer say, “John Henry, whut’s matter, little son?” An’ he up an’ say right den an’ dere dat nine-poun’ hammer be death o’ him. An’ so sho’ ’nough he grow up right ’way into bigges’ steel driller worl’ ever see. Why dis I’s tellin’ you now wus jes’ when he’s young fellow; waits til’ I tells you ’bout his drillin’ in mountains an’ in Pennsylvania. An’ so one day he drill all way from Rome, Georgia, to D’catur, mo’ ’n a hundred miles drillin’ in one day, an’ I ain’t sure dat wus his bes’ day. No, I ain’t sure dat wus his bes’ day. “But, boss, John Henry wus a regular boy, not lak some o’ dese giaunts you read ’bout not likin’ wimmin[240] an’ nothin’. John Henry love to come to town same as any other nigger, only mo’ so. Co’se he’s mo’ important an’ all dat, an’ co’se he had mo’ wimmin ’an anybody else,’some say mo’ ’n ten, but as to dat I don’t know. I means, boss, mo’ wimmen ’an ten men, ’cause, Lawd, I specs he had mo’ ’n thousand wimmin’. An’ John Henry wus a great co’tin’ man, too, cap’n. Always wus dat way. Why, one day when he settin’ by his pa’ in san’ out in front o’ de house, jes’ few weeks old, women come along and claim him fer deir man. An’ dat’s funny, too, but it sho’ wus dat way all his life. An’ so when he come to die John Henry had mo’ wimmin, all dressed in red an’ blue an’ all dem fine colors come to see him dead, if it las’ thing they do, an’ wus mighty sad sight, people all standin’ ’roun’, both cullud an’ white.” Of course, no Negro believes that the foregoing story is true. But there are innumerable stories which stay within the bounds of possibility—though not always probability, to be sure—and which are thoroughly believed by the Negroes who tell them. One of the most widespread of these, and at the same time interesting and artistic, was concluded as follows by a North Carolina Negro workman: “An’ John Henry beat dat ol’ steam drill down, but jes’ as he took his las’ stroke he fell over daid wid de hammer in his han’. Dey buried him dere in de tunnel, an’ now dey got his statue carved in solid rock at de mouth o’ de Big Ben’ tunnel on de C. & O.—das right over dere close to Asheville somewhere. No, I ain’t never been dere, but dere he stan’, carved in great big solid rock wid de hammer in his han’.” [241] CHAPTER XIV SOME TYPICAL NEGRO TUNES We have pointed out again and again the utter futility of trying to describe accurately the singing of a group of Negroes when they are at their best. A group of twenty workers singing, carrying various parts, suiting song to work, and vying with one another for supremacy in variations and innovations—this is a scene which defies musical notation and description. And yet the picture which we have tried to present in this volume would certainly be incomplete without the addition of some of the simple melodies of typical workaday songs. They are added, therefore, merely as final touches to the picture rather than as attempts to reproduce the complex harmonies of Negro songs. Heretofore the spirituals have received most of the attention of those who were working toward the preservation of Negro music. The secular songs have nothing like the standardization of words and music that the spirituals have, simply because they have not been preserved. It is inevitable, however, that due attention will be given to Negro secular music. Indeed much has recently been done toward that end.[95] But the task of recording the majority of Negro secular tunes is yet to be done. It is to be hoped that the forthcoming volume of secular songs which is being edited by James Weldon Johnson will go a long way toward giving the Negro’s secular music the place which it deserves. [95]For a discussion of the recent collections of Negro songs, see Guy B. Johnson, “Some Recent Contributions to the Study of American Negro Songs,” Social Forces, June, 1926. [242] Any one who has tried to record the music of Negro songs knows that it is very difficult to do more than approximate the tunes as they are actually sung. Several reasons may be cited to account for this. In the first place, there are slurs and minute gradations in pitch in Negro songs which it is impossible to represent in ordinary musical notation. Some of these effects can be reproduced on a stringed instrument, but they cannot be shown on a musical scale which is only divided into half-step changes of pitch. A notation in the form of curved lines would come nearer representing the Negro’s singing than does the system of definite notes along a staff. It is what the Negro sings between the lines and spaces that makes his music so difficult to record. Another factor which must be reckoned with is the inconsistency of the singer. When the recorder thinks that he has finally succeeded in getting a phrase down correctly and asks the singer to repeat it “just one more time,” he often finds that the response is quite different from any previous rendition. Requests for further repetition may bring out still other variations or a return to the previous version. Again, after the notation has been made from the singing of the first stanza of a song, the collector may be chagrined to find that none of the other stanzas is sung to exactly the same tune. The variations are not marked. They are elusive and teasing, and they add beauty to the song. How often the song collector wishes for some instrument which will record group singing in its native haunts! He cannot hope to catch by ear alone all of the parts—and there are undoubtedly six or eight of many of these songs—that go into the making of those rare harmonies which only a group of Negro workers[243] can produce. If he coaxes the singers to keep repeating their song, some of them become self-conscious and drop out. Perhaps the whole group will refuse to sing any more. If perchance he gets one or two singers to give him some special help, he gets but a suggestion of the group effect. He must be contented with securing the leading part of the song and harmonizing it later as best he can. So these rare work harmonies have never been faithfully reproduced in musical notation.[96] Rather than give an artificial harmonization to the tunes recorded in this chapter, we are presenting only the leading part of each song. [96]The nearest approach ever made to accurate recording of such songs is found in the work of the late Natalie Curtis Burlin. See her Negro Folk Songs, Hampton Series, vols. III and IV. Since several of the songs in this chapter are work songs, let us examine for a moment the technique of the worker-singer. Many work songs, of course, are not really work songs except in the sense that they are sung during work. When the work is such that it does not necessitate continuous rhythmic movements, one song is about as good as another. But rhythmic movements, being especially adapted to song accompaniment, have given rise to a distinct type of work song. Digging, hammering, steel-driving, rowing, and many other kinds of work fall in the rhythmic class. The technique for all of these is practically the same. Let us take digging as an example, since it is a very common type of Negro labor in the South. Typical pick-song patterns are as follows: I got a rainbow, Rainbow ’roun’ my shoulder; I got a rainbow, Rainbow ’roun’ my shoulder; ’Tain’t gonna rain, Lawd, Lawd, ’tain’t gonna rain. [244] Well, she asked me In her parlor An’ she cooled me Wid her fan; Lawd, she whispered To her mother, “Mama, I love That dark-eyed man.” Now in the type of song illustrated by the first of the above patterns the strokes of the pick are not all of equal length. The rhythm of the song demands a short stroke alternated with a longer stroke. In the second type of song, however, the meter is such that all of the strokes of the pick may be of equal length. At the end of each line there is a cæsura or pause. This represents the time during which the worker swings his pick from the upright position to the ground. When the pick strikes the ground, the worker gives a grunt, loosens the pick, and raises it. It is during this loosening and upward movement that he sings. The down-stroke calls for much more effort than raising the pick, so he rarely ever sings on the down-stroke. The time required for a digging stroke is, however, shorter than the time required for loosening and raising the pick, so that ordinarily the pauses in the song are relatively brief. It is in a group that the work song is to be heard at its best. When a group is digging and singing, picks are swung in unison. On a few occasions we have observed that one or two men took their strokes out of unison in order to sing certain exclamations or echoes during the pauses in the singing of their companions. This, however, is a rare procedure, for the most striking variations in both music and words can be introduced without breaking the unison of the strokes. [245] To call a song a pick song does not mean that it is not also a good song for general purposes. I Got a Rainbow, I Don’t Want No Trouble Wid de Walker, and other pick songs are quite effective when sung as solos with guitar accompaniment. On the other hand, many general songs can easily be converted into pick songs by slight changes in meter.[97] [97]For other discussions of work songs, see Natalie Curtis Burlin, Negro Folk Songs, vols. III and IV; Dorothy Scarborough, On the Trail of Negro Folk Songs, chapter VIII; R. Emmet Kennedy, Mellows; Odum and Johnson, The Negro and His Songs, chapter VIII. A few of the tunes presented in the following pages are the older Negro secular tunes. Stagolee and Railroad Bill are rarely heard now, but they were common twenty years ago, and their music is included in the present collection for whatever its preservation may be worth. The words of Stagolee, Railroad Bill and She Asked Me in de Parlor are reprinted in full from The Negro and His Songs, but only the first stanzas of the other songs are given, since the rest of the words can be found in the preceding chapters of the present volume. The songs in every case are written in the key in which they were sung. Stagolee Musical score Stag-o-lee, Stag-o-lee, What’s dat in yo’ grip? “Noth-in’ but my Sunday clothes, I’m gonna take a trip.” Oh, dat man, bad man, Stagolee done come. Stagolee, Stagolee, what’s dat in yo’ grip? Nothin’ but my Sunday clothes, I’m gonna to take a trip, Oh, dat man, bad man, Stagolee done come. [246] Stagolee, Stagolee, where you been so long? I been out on de battle fiel’ shootin’ an’ havin’ fun. Oh, dat man, etc. Stagolee was a bully man, an’ ev’ybody knowed When dey seed Stagolee comin’ to give Stagolee de road. Stagolee started out, he give his wife his han’; “Goodby, darlin’, I’m goin’ to kill a man.” Stagolee killed a man an’ laid him on de flo’, What’s dat he kill him wid? Dat same ol’ fohty-fo’. Stagolee killed man an’ laid him on his side, What’s dat he kill him wid? Dat same ol’ fohty-five. Out of house an’ down de street Stagolee did run, In his hand he held a great big smok’n’ gun. Stagolee, Stagolee, I’ll tell you what I’ll do; If you’ll git me out’n dis trouble I’ll do as much for you. Ain’t it a pity, ain’t it a shame? Stagolee was shot, but he don’t want no name. Stagolee, Stagolee, look what you done done: Killed de best ol’ citerzen, now you’ll have to be hung. Stagolee cried to de jury, “Please don’t take my life, I have only three little children an’ one little lovin’ wife.” Railroad Bill Musical score Rail-road Bill might-y bad man, Shoot dem lights out de brake-man’s han’, Was look-in’ for Rail-road Bill. Railroad Bill mighty bad man, Shoot dem lights out o’ de brakeman’s han’, Was lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. [247] Railroad Bill mighty bad man, Shoot the lamps all off de stan’, An’ it’s lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. First on table, next on wall; Ol’ corn whiskey cause of it all, It’s lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Ol’ McMillan had a special train; When he got there was shower of rain, Wus lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Ev’ybody tol’ him he better turn back; Railroad Bill wus goin’ down track, An’ it’s lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Well, the policemen all dressed in blue, Comin’ down sidewalk two by two, Wus lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Railroad Bill had no wife, Always lookin’ fer somebody’s life, An’ it’s lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Railroad Bill was the worst ol’ coon: Killed McMillan by de light o’ de moon, It’s lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. Ol’ Culpepper went up on number five, Goin’ bring him back, dead or alive, Wus lookin’ fer Railroad Bill. She Asked Me in de Parlor Musical score Well, she asked me in her par-lor An’ she cooled me wid her fan, An’ she whis-pered to her moth-er, “O Ma, I love that dark-eyed man.” Well, she ask me in her parlor An’ she cooled me wid her fan, An’ she whispered to her mother, “Mama, I love that dark-eyed man.” [248] Well, I ask her mother for her An’ she said she was too young. Lawd, I wished I never had seen her An’ I wished she’d never been born. Well, I led her to de altar, An’ de preacher give his comman’, An’ she swore by God that made her That she never love another man. John Henry Musical score John Hen-ry was a steel-driv-in’ man, Ca’d his hammer all the time,... An’ be-fo’ he’d let the steam-drill beat him down, Die with the hammer in his han’, Die with the hammer in his han’. Goin’ Down That Lonesome Road Musical score Goin’ down that lone-some road, Oh, goin’ down that lone-some road, An’ I won’t be treat-ed this-a way. Springs on my bed done brok-en down, An’ I ain’t got no-where to lay my head. [249] Shoot That Buffalo Musical score Went down to Raleigh, Was nev-er there be-fo’, White folks on de feather bed, Nig-gers on de flo’. Shoot dat buf-fa, shoot dat lo, Shoot dat buf-fa-lo. I Got a Rainbow A Musical score Oh, ev-’ry-where I, where I look this morn-in’, It looks like rain, Lawd, O my Lawd, looks like rain, it looks like rain, Lawd, O my Lawd, looks like rain, Oh, ev-’ry-where I, where I look this morn-in’. I Got a Rainbow B Musical score Oh, ev-’ry-where I, Where I look dis morn-in’, Oh, ev-’ry-where I, Where I look dis morn-in’, It look like rain, Lawd, Lawd, looks like rain. I Don’t Want No Trouble Wid de Walker Musical score Oh, I don’t want no, Want no trouble wid de walk-er; Oh, I don’t want no, Want no trouble wid de walker. Wanta go home, Lawd, Lawd, wanta go home. [250] Reason I Stay on de Job So Long Musical score Reason I stay on de job so long, Gimme flam-donies an’ de cof-fee strong. Tol’ My Cap’n That My Feet Was Col’ Musical score Tol’ my cap’n that my feet was col’, “God damn yo’ feet, let the car wheel roll.” If I’d Known My Cap’n Was Blin’ Musical score If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’, dar-lin’, If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’, dar-lin’, If I’d a-known my cap’n was blin’, I wouldn’-a went to work till half-pas’ nine, dar-lin’. I Got a Muley Musical score I got a mul-ey, Mul-ey on the mountain, call him Jer-ry; Oh, I can ride him, Ride him an-y time I wanta, All day long, Lawd, Lawd, all day long. Shot My Pistol in the Heart of Town Musical score O - o - o - h, L - a - a - w-d, Shot my pis-tol in de heart o-town,......... Lawd, de big Chief holled, “Don’t you blow me down.” [252] CHAPTER XV TYPES OF PHONO-PHOTOGRAPHIC RECORDS OF NEGRO SINGERS We have referred often in these pages to the wealth of material found in the great variety and number of the Negro’s songs. We have appraised the collections which have been published and those which are to come as valuable source material for the study of folk life and art and especially for their value in the portrayal of representative Negro life. Adequate analysis and presentation of these values will be possible only after a number of the other collections have been completed and comprehensive studies made. There are other values not yet presented. For example, the scientific study of the Negro’s musical ability has barely begun, but it promises much. The work of Professor Carl E. Seashore and others has resulted in the formulation of various tests and methods for studying musical talent and singing ability. Many valuable studies have been reported from various psychological laboratories. One of the latest developments in this field is the phono-photographic method of recording voices. In this method the phono-photographic machine makes it possible to take pictures of sound waves of all kinds. Among other things, it registers the most delicate variations in pitch, variations which are often too subtle for the human ear to perceive. In short, it gives a picture of exactly what a voice or a musical instrument does. Naturally this method of sound wave analysis may be of untold value in the study of the human voice. It[253] enables the singer to see his voice in detail. It furnishes the scientist with data for the study of the qualities which make a voice good or poor. It opens up many possibilities, both practical and theoretical, as a method of voice analysis. Of special interest and importance is the application of this method to the study of Negro singers and Negro voices. It was therefore a fortunate turn of circumstances which made it possible for the authors of this volume to join Professor Seashore and Dr. Milton Metfessel of the University of Iowa in making extensive phono-photographic studies of various Negro singers during the fall of 1925, with headquarters at the University of North Carolina Institute for Research in Social Science. Professor Seashore was able to coöperate personally in the work at Hampton, while Dr. Metfessel remained throughout the entire period of the study.[98] [98]Dr. Metfessel, using the perfected machine which long years of work at the University of Iowa psychological laboratories have produced, was successful in obtaining a large number of satisfactory records. He also took moving pictures of the singers. Needless to say, we are indebted to him for the material of this chapter. Among the types of Negro singers whose voices were subjected to the phono-photographic process were practically all of the common types which we have been recording in the pages of this volume and of The Negro and His Songs. There were the typical laborers, working with pick and shovel. There was the lonely singer, with his morning yodel or “holler.” There were the skilled workers with voices more or less trained by practice and formal singing. There was the more nearly primitive type, swaying body and limb with singing. The noted quartet from Hampton Institute, as well as individual singers there, coöperated. Men and women from the North Carolina College for Negroes represented other types. Quartets[254] and individuals from the high schools at Chapel Hill and Raleigh, North Carolina, were still other types. Finally the voices of one hundred and fifty Negro children from the Orange County Training School at Chapel Hill and the Washington School at Raleigh were recorded. Types of songs included in the experiments were the gang work song, the pick-and-shovel song and various other work songs, the yodel, the “1926 model laugh,” the blues, formal quartet music, spirituals, and children’s songs. It would thus appear that both the selections and the numbers were adequate to make a valuable beginning in a new phase of the subject. The results of this study will be published fully later. The present chapter is in no sense a report of the results. It is intended merely to describe the phono-photographic study, to give some examples of records obtained during the study, and to indicate certain possibilities of this method as a scientific means of research into Negro singing abilities and qualities. The following explanation will suffice to acquaint the reader with the method of reading the photographic records presented in this chapter. Along the left side of each graph are the notes of the scale in half steps. When the heavy line which represents the voice rises or falls one space on the graph, the voice has changed a half tone in pitch. Time value is shown along the bottom of the graph. The vertical bars occurring every 5.55 spaces along the bottom mark off intervals of one second. If one were to sing a perfectly rigid tone, its photographic record would be a horizontal straight line. Such a thing is very rare, however, in any type of singing, for most sustained tones photograph as more or less irregular wavy lines. Indeed, a voice whose sustained tones photographed as a straight line would[255] not produce as good tones as one with rapid and regular variations of the vocal cords. A good singing voice possesses what is called the vibrato. In terms of the photographic records, the pitch vibrato consists of a rise and fall of pitch of about half a tone about six times a second. In Figure I are given samples of tones photographed by Seashore and Metfessel from the singing of Annie Laurie by Lowell Welles. The first represents the singing of the word “dew” in the line, “Where early fa’s the dew.” The second is the word “and” from the line, “And for bonnie Annie Laurie.” The vibrato is present in both tones. Note how the voice line varies above or below the note E on “dew” and F-sharp on “and,” sometimes as much as a quarter of a tone. Note also the smoothness and regularity of the pitch fluctuations. It is this smoothness of the vibrato which characterizes good singing. Singing photograph “AND” F♯ “DEW” E Fig. I To illustrate their scope, methods, and possibilities three specimens of photographic records of Negro voices are presented: a song, I Got a Muley,[99] by[256] Odell Walker; a yodel or “holler,” as it is commonly called, by Cleve Atwater; and Cleve’s “1926 Model Laugh.” [99]The tune is slightly different from the music of the song of the same name given in Chapter XIV. It is variously called I Got a Mule on the Mountain, I Got Mule Named Jerry, I Got a Muley, Jerry on Mountain. Figure II is the photographic notation of I Got a Muley. The music of the song as best it can be represented in ordinary notation is given below. Several interesting things are revealed by the song picture in Figure II.[100] For one thing, we have here a picture of some of those elusive slurs which are so common among Negro singers. Take the words “muley on a mount’n” in Figure II-A, for example. Musical score I GOT A MULEY, MULEY ON A MOUNT’N CALL ’IM JERRY; I GOT A MULEY, MULEY ON A MOUNT’N CALL’IM JERRY. I CAN RIDE HIM, RIDE’IM ANY TIME I WAN’ UH; I CAN RIDE HIM RIDE’IM ANY TIME I WAN’UH, LAWD, LAWD, ALL DAY LONG. When one hears these words as they were sung by Odell Walker, one is apt to feel that with the exception of the last syllable of “mount’n” they are all sung on the same pitch. The graph shows that this is not so. There are really drops in pitch of one and a half or two whole tones at two places in this phrase. Or take the word “ride,” as it occurs in the phrase, “ride ’im any time I wan’ uh,” which phrase occurs twice in the song. One can tell while listening to the song that there is some sort of slur present, but it is impossible to tell by means of the ear alone exactly what is happening. The graph reveals the fact that the singer[257] actually begins the word “ride” between D-sharp and E and carries it as high as G-sharp. The outstanding tone heard, however, is G-sharp. Other pitch changes not shown in the ordinary musical notation may be easily detected by the reader. [100]A measure on the graph is equivalent to approximately nine spaces on the horizontal scale. Note that the singer did not keep accurate time. His measures range from six to twelve spaces. The vibrato is present in places in the record of this song. In section A there is a trace of it on the word “muley” the first time it occurs. In section B there is an approach to it on the word “Jerry.” In section C it occurs on the word “ride” the first time it appears. In section D there is a tendency toward it on “Lawd, Lawd,” but it shows best in “long”, the last word of the song. A comparison with the examples of artistic singing in Figure I shows that our Negro workman’s vibrato is rough and irregular and that it does not maintain a steady general pitch level as does Welles’s vibrato. It must be borne in mind, however, that this particular song does not afford good opportunities for sustained tones and that the Negro singer’s vibrato might have shown to better advantage on a different song. In Figure III is a picture of a yodel or “holler.” It is the sort of thing which one hears from field hands as they go to work in the morning, or from some gay-spirited pick-and-shovel man as he begins digging on a frosty morning. No attempt is made to include the ordinary musical notation of the yodel, for it would give but a suggestion of the vocal idiosyncrasies involved in the execution of the yodel. The most remarkable thing about this record is the sudden changes of pitch which it portrays. In Figure III-A just at the beginning of the fifth second interval the voice takes a sudden drop. Then it rises from F to G in the octave above in about a third of a second. In section B of the yodel, near the end of the fifth second interval, the same spectacular rise occurs, this time from F-sharp to G-sharp in about one-tenth of a second. Still more remarkable are the several rapid rises and falls in pitch in section C. In the production of such sudden changes the vocal cords must undergo a snap. Even in speech, where pitch changes are very rapid, such sudden ascents and descents do not occur. [258] Chart Fig. II-A Chart Fig. II-B [259] Chart Fig. II-C Chart Fig. II-D [260] Chart Fig. III-A Chart Fig. III-B [261] Chart Fig. III-C Chart Fig. III-D [262] Chart Fig. IV-A Chart Fig. IV-B [263] It is also interesting to note that the vibrato is present at times in the yodel. It is fairly plain on C-sharp along the middle of section A and still better on G at the end of the same section. It also shows at the end of section B, continuing into section C; and the yodel ends with a semi-vibrato. There is an approach to it in several other places. The vibrato of our Negro worker, however, is rather erratic and wavering in comparison with the vibrato of the vocal artist in Figure I. Yet one must remember that our subjects, both in Figure II and Figure III, were Negro workers whose voices have never had a touch of formal training. In Figure IV we have a photographic record of a hearty Negro laugh. Its musical quality is at once evident. In the first three seconds of the laugh there is an unusual effect. It would not be called a vibrato because the pitch changes are too rapid and too extensive to give the vibrato effect. Near the beginning of the fifth second of the laugh the voice breaks up into a series of interrupted speech sounds. During the sixth second it suddenly becomes musical again and remains so for about two seconds. Then, after a rest, (see section the speech sounds reappear and continue intermittently to the end of the laugh. These observations indicate some of the possibilities of the phono-photographic method of studying Negro voices and Negro songs. When the complete results of[264] the recent study are ready for publication we may have data which will make it possible to compare scientifically the voices of different kinds of Negro singers as well as the voices of Negro and white singers. Other studies and correlations may be made through the articulation of the moving pictures of the singers, their faces, their bodily movements, their emotional expressions, and whatever reactions the camera may reveal. In nearly all instances where phono-photographic records were made of Negro voices in the recent study, moving pictures were made of the singers. In addition to these, moving pictures were made of groups of workmen while singing. Some remarkable examples of skill in movement, of coördination of song with work, of mixture of humor, pathos, and recklessness with work and song were brought to light. These have been incorporated into a series of three reels. Some of these pictures of facial expression during singing will be included in the report of the study when it is published in complete form. Many interesting questions may find their solutions if the scientific method is applied to the study of Negro singing ability. Is the vibrato a native endowment? Is the vibrato more frequent among Negroes than among whites? At what age does it appear in the voice?[101] What other qualities cause the rank and file of Negroes to excel as singers? Is the Negro’s capacity for harmony greater than the white man’s? Is his sense of rhythm better? These are some of the questions which science should be able to answer in the near future. [101]A study of the voices of white and Negro school children now being made by Milton Metfessel and Guy B. Johnson may throw some light upon some of these questions. [265] SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY[102] [102]This bibliography is not intended to cover all that has been written on Negro songs. It includes references to actual collections of songs and to a few other contributions which are of value to the serious student of Negro songs. Dozens of merely appreciative articles have been omitted. For a larger bibliography one may consult the latest issue of the Negro Year Book. BOOKS Abbot, F. H., and Swan, A. J., Eight Negro Songs. Enoch & Sons, New York, 1923. Eight songs from Bedford County, Virginia. Explanatory comments and notes on dialect are given for each song. Allen, W. F., and others, Slave Songs of the United States. New York, 1867. Words and music of 136 songs are given. Armstrong, M. F., Hampton and Its Students. New York, 1874. Fifty plantation songs. Ballanta, N. G. J., St. Helena Island Spirituals. G. Schirmer, New York, 1925. A collection of 115 spirituals from Penn School, St. Helena Island. This island is off the coast of South Carolina, and its semi-isolation makes it an interesting field for the study of Negro songs. Ballanta’s work is prefaced by a valuable but somewhat pedantic discussion of Negro music. Burlin, Natalie Curtis, Negro Folk-Songs. G. Schirmer, New York, 1918-19. Four small volumes of Negro songs recorded at Hampton Institute. Volumes I and II are spirituals, volumes III and IV are work songs and play songs. These songs are of special value in that the late Mrs. Burlin came nearer than any one else to the accurate reproduction of Negro songs in musical notation. Campbell, Olive Dame, and Sharp, Cecil J., English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians. The student who is interested in the origin of Negro songs and their relation to English folk songs will find valuable data in this book. Cox, J. H., Folk Songs of the South. Harvard University Press, 1924. Most of these songs are songs of the whites of the mountains, but they are particularly valuable in that they throw light on the origin of many Negro songs. Fenner, T. P., Religious Folk Songs of the American Negro. Hampton Institute Press, 1924. (Arranged in 1909 by the Musical Directors of Hampton Normal and Industrial Institute[266] from the original edition by Thomas P. Fenner. Reprinted in 1924.) This volume contains the words and music of 153 religious songs. Fenner, T. P., and Rathbun, F. G., Cabin and Plantation Songs. New York, 1891. Old Negro plantation songs with music. Hallowell, Emily, Calhoun Plantation Songs. New York, 1910. A number of songs with music collected from the singing of Negroes on the Calhoun plantation. Harris, Joel Chandler, Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings. New York, 1880. Nine songs. Harris, Joel Chandler, Uncle Remus and His Friends. New York, 1892. Sixteen songs. Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, Army Life in a Black Regiment. Boston, 1870. Chapter IX of this book is devoted to Negro spirituals as they were sung in Col. Higginson’s regiment during the Civil War. Hobson, Anne, In Old Alabama. New York, 1903. Ten dialect stories and songs. Johnson, James Weldon, The Book of American Negro Spirituals. Viking Press, New York, 1925. A collection of sixty-one spirituals. Most of these songs have been published in other collections, but the musical arrangements in this volume are new. While the melodies of the old songs are retained intact, an effort has been made to improve the rhythmic qualities of the accompaniments. The preface of the book is devoted to the origin, development, and appreciation of Negro spirituals. Kennedy, R. Emmet, Black Cameos. A. & C. Boni, New York, 1924. A collection of twenty-eight stories, mostly humorous, with songs interwoven. The words and music of seventeen songs are given. Kennedy, R. Emmet, Mellows: Work Songs, Street Cries and Spirituals. A. & C. Boni, New York, 1925. Several spirituals and street songs from New Orleans. The author includes character sketches of his singers. His discussion of the relation of Negro songs to printed ballad sheets is especially interesting. Krehbiel, H. E., Afro-American Folk Songs. G. Schirmer, New York and London, 1914. A careful study of Negro folk songs from the point of view of the skilled musician. Songs and music[267] from Africa and other sources are analyzed and compared with American Negro productions. The music of sixty or more songs and dance airs is given. Marsh, J. B. T., The Story of the Jubilee Singers. Boston 1880. An account of the Jubilee Singers, with their songs. Odum, Howard W., and Johnson, Guy B., The Negro and His Songs. University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, 1925. A study of the origin and characteristic of Negro songs from the historical and sociological point of view. The words of 200 songs are given. The songs are discussed under three general classes: spirituals, social songs, and work songs. Peterson, C. G., Creole Songs from New Orleans. New Orleans, 1902. Pike, G. D., The Jubilee Singers. Boston and New York, 1873. Sixty-one religious songs. Scarborough, Dorothy, On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1925. One of the most important contributions yet made to the study of Negro songs. This book presents some 200 secular songs, including the music of most of them. Especially interesting is the chapter on “The Negro’s part in the Transmission of Traditional Songs and Ballads.” The lack of any sort of index somewhat decreases the value of the book for purposes of reference and comparison. Talley, Thomas W., Negro Folk Rhymes. Macmillan, New York, 1922. This volume contains about 350 rhymes and songs and a study of the origin, development, and characteristics of Negro rhymes. Besides a general index of songs, a comparative index is included. Work, John Wesley, Folk Songs of the American Negro. Fisk University Press, Nashville, 1915. The words of fifty-five songs and music of nine, together with a study of the origin and growth of certain songs. PERIODICALS Adventure Magazine. The files of this magazine for the last few years should be of considerable interest to the student of folk song. A department called “Old Songs That Men Have Sung” is conducted by Dr. R. W. Gordon, a Harvard-trained student of folk song. Many of the songs printed in this department are Negro songs or Negro adaptions. [268] Backus, E. M., “Negro Songs from Georgia,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 10, pp. 116, 202, 216; vol. 11, pp. 22, 60. Six religious songs. Backus, E. M., “Christmas Carols from Georgia,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 12, p. 272. Two songs. Barton, W. E., “Hymns of Negroes,” New England Magazine, vol. 19, pp. 669 et seq., 706 et seq. A number of songs with some musical notation and discussion. Bergen, Mrs. F. D., “On the Eastern Shore,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 2, pp. 296-298. Two fragments, with a brief discussion of the Negroes of the eastern shore of Maryland. Brown, J. M., “Songs of the Slave,” Lippincott’s, vol. 2, pp. 617-623. Several songs with brief comments. Cable, George W., “Creole Slave Songs,” Century, vol. 31, pp. 807-828. Twelve songs with some fragments, music of seven. Clarke, Mary Almsted, “Song Games of Negro Children in Virginia,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 3, pp. 288-290. Nine song games and rhymes. Cox, J. H., “John Hardy,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 32, p. 505 et seq. Here will be found Cox’s discussion of the John Hardy or John Henry story, together with several versions of the song. Garnett, L. A., “Spirituals,” Outlook, vol. 30, p. 589. Three religious songs. However, they appear to have been polished considerably by the writer. Haskell, M. A., “Negro Spirituals,” Century, vol. 36, pp. 577 et seq. About ten songs with music. Higginson, T. W., “Hymns of Negroes,” Atlantic Monthly, vol. 19, pp. 685 et seq. Thirty-six religious and two secular songs, with musical notation. Lemmerman, K., “Improvised Negro Songs,” New Republic, vol. 13, pp. 214-215. Six religious songs or improvised fragments. Lomax, J. A., “Self-pity in Negro Folk Song,” Nation, vol. 105, pp. 141-145. About twenty songs, some new, others quoted from Perrow and Odum, with discussion. “Negro Hymn of Day of Judgment,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 9, p. 210. One religious song. [269] Niles, Abbe, “Blue Notes,” New Republic, vol. 45, pp. 292-3. A discussion of the significance of the blues and the music of the blues. The style is somewhat too verbose and technical for the average reader. Odum, Anna K., “Negro Folk Songs from Tennessee,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 27, pp. 255-265. Twenty-one religious and four secular songs. Odum, Howard W., “Religious Folk Songs of the Southern Negroes,” Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, vol. 3, pp. 265-365. About one hundred songs. Odum, Howard W., “Folk Song and Folk Poetry as Found in the Secular Songs of the Southern Negroes,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 35, pp. 223-249; 351-396. About 120 songs. Odum, Howard W., “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Country Gentleman, March, 1926, pp. 18-19, 49-50. Several religious songs with discussion. Odum, Howard W., “Down that Lonesome Road.” Country Gentleman, May, 1926, pp. 18-19, 79. Several secular songs, music of six, some new and some quoted from The Negro and His Songs and from the present collection. Peabody, Charles, “Notes on Negro Music,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 16, pp. 148-52. Observations on the technique of the Negro workman in the South, with some songs and music. Perkins, A. E., “Spirituals from the Far South,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 35, pp. 223-249. Forty-seven songs. Perrow, E. C., “Songs and Rhymes from the South,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 25, pp. 137-155; vol. 26, pp. 123-173; vol. 28, pp. 129-190. A general collection containing 118 Negro songs, mostly secular. Redfearn, S. F., “Songs from Georgia,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 34, pp. 121-124. One secular and three religious songs. Speers, M. W. F., “Negro Songs and Folk-Lore,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 23, pp. 435-439. One religious and one secular song. Steward, T. G., “Negro Imagery,” New Republic, vol. 12, p. 248. One religious improvisation, with discussion. [270] Thanet, Octave, “Cradle Songs of Negroes in North Carolina,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 7, p. 310. Two lullabies. Truitt, Florence, “Songs from Kentucky,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 36, pp. 376-379. Four white songs, one of which contains several verses often found in Negro songs. Webb, W. P., “Notes on Folk-Lore of Texas,” Journal of American Folk-Lore, vol. 28, pp. 290-299. Five secular songs. [271] INDEX TO SONGS PAGE A Creeper’s Been ’Roun’ Dis Do’ 149 A Nigger’s Hard to Fool 180 A Vampire of Your Own 143 All Boun’ in Prison 79 All Right 109 All Us Niggers ’hind de Bars 87 Angels Lookin’ at Me 198 Baby, Why Don’t You Treat Me Right? 148 Bad Man Lazarus 50 Bear Cat Down in Georgia 121 Berda, You Come Too Soon 128 Better’n I Has at Home 85 Billy Bob Russell 54 Bloodhoun’ on My Track 66 Bolin Jones 62 Boys, Put Yo’ Hands on It 107 Buffalo Bill 67 Can Any One Take Sweet Mama’s Place? 156 Captain, Captain, Let Wheelers Roll 102 Captain, I’ll Be Gone 100 Captain, I Wanta Go Home 45 Casey Jones 126 Chain Gang Blues 78 Chicken Never Roost Too High fo’ Me 133 Co’n Bread 181 Creepin’ ’Roun’ 63 Daddy Mine 155 Darlin’, Get on de Road 132 Das ’Nough Said 130 Dat Brown Gal Baby Done Turn Me Down 137 Dat Chocolate Man 161 Dat Leadin’ Houn’ 67 Dat Nigger o’ Mine Don’t Love Me No Mo’ 162 Dat Sly Gal[272] 164 De Chocolate Gal 153 De Co’t House in de Sky 184 De Devil’s Been to My House 193 De Goat’s Got a Smell 131 De Mulatto Gal 153 De Woman Am de Cause of It All A 142 B 143 De Women Don’t Love Me No Mo’ 141 Dem Chain Gang Houn’s 86 Dem Longin’, Wantin’ Blues 162 Dem Turrible Red Hot Blues 130 Dere’s a Lizzie After My Man 163 Dere’s Misery in Dis Lan’ 161 Dew-Drop Mine 149 Dey Got Each and de Udder’s Man 144 Dey’s Hangin’ ’roun’ Her Do’ 148 Diamond Joe 130 Didn’t Ol’ Pharaoh Get Lost? 191 Dig-a My Grave Wid a Silver Spade 129 Don’t Fool Wid Me 63 Don’t Wanta See Her No Mo’ 137 Don’t You Give Me No Cornbread 105 Don’t You Hear? 68 Don’t You Two-time Me 156 Dove Came Down by the Foot of My Bed 127 Dupree 55 Dupree’s Jail Song 123 Dupree Tol’ Betty 57 Everybody Call Me the Wages Man 116 “Free Labor” Gang Song 90 Give Me a Teasin’ Brown 146 Go ’Long Mule 177 Goin’ Back to de Gang 86 Goin’ Down Dat Lonesome Road[273] 46 Gonna Turn Back Pharaoh’s Army 191 Good Lawd, I Am Troubled 192 Good Morning, Mr. Epting 171 Goodby, Sing Hallelu 205 Goodby, Sookie 131 Got Me in the Calaboose 76 Great Scots, You Don’t Know What to Do 132 Gwine to Git a Home By an’ By 176 Have Everlastin’ Life 194 He Got My Gal 151 He-i-Heira 92 He Run Me In 131 He Tuck Her Away 149 He Wus de Gov’nor of Our Clan 127 Help Me Drive ’Em 109 Hi, Jenny, Ho, Jenny Johnson 185 Home Again, Home Again 150 Honey Baby 145 Hot Flambotia an’ Coffee Strong 112 Hump-back Mule 179 I Ain’t Done Nothin’ 69 I Ain’t Free 71 I Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Make a Fool Out o’ Me 128 I Ain’t No Stranger 159 I Am Ready For de Fight 64 I Belong to Steel-drivin’ Crew 110 I Bid You a Long Farewell 197 I Brung a Gal From Tennessee 137 I Calls My Jesus King Emanuel 205 I Can’t Keep From Cryin’ 40 I Done Sol’ My Soul to de Devil 158 I Don’t Feel Welcome Here 164 I Don’t Love Him No Mo’ 162 I Don’t Mind Bein’ in Jail 77 I Don’t Want No Trouble Wid de Walker[274] 113 I Don’t Want No Cornbread 114 I Don’t Want You All to Grieve After Me 197 I Got a Gal an’ I Can’t Git Her 147 I Got a Letter, Captain 82 I Got a Letter From My Man 158 I Got a Muley 120 I Got Another Daddy 165 I Got Chickens on My Back 128 I Got My Man 150 I Love Jesus 195 I Never Will Turn Back 200 I Rather Be in My Grave 38 I Steal Dat Corn 68 I Tol’ My Cap’n That My Feet Was Col’ 102 I Wants to Go to Heaven 203 I Went to de Jail House 79 I Went to See My Gal 147 I Wish I Was Dead 39 I Wish I Was Single Again 163 If Dere’s a Man in de Moon 143 If I Can Git to Georgia Line 75 If I’d A-known My Cap’n Was Blin’ 101 If You Want to See a Pretty Girl 145 I’m a Natural-bo’n Ram’ler 65 I’m Comin’ Back 85 I’m de Hot Stuff Man 65 I’m de Rough Stuff 69 I’m Fishin’ Boun’ 181 I’m Goin’ Back Home 96 I’m Goin’ Home, Buddie 43 I’m Goin’ On 112 I’m Goin’ Out West 124 I’m Gonna Get Me Another Man 165 I’m Gonna Have Me a Red Ball All My Own 132 In de Mornin’ Soon[275] 201 I’s a Natural-bo’n Eastman 68 I’s Done Spot My Nigger 150 I’s Dreamin’ of You 154 I’s Gonna Shine 204 I’s Havin’ a Hell of a Time 138 I’s Swingin’ in de Swinger 204 Jail House Wail 73 Jes’ Behol’ What a Number 194 Jes’ Fer a Day 87 John Henry (See Chapter XIII) 221-240 Judge Gonna Sentence Us So Long 80 Julia Long 125 July’s for the Red-bug 106 Kitty Kimo 187 Lawd, She Keep on Worryin’ Me 136 Lawd, Lawd, I’m on My Way 46 Lawdy, What I Gonna Do? 139 Layin’ Low 62 Left Wing Gordon (See Chapter XII) 206-221 Long, Tall, Brown-skin Girl 146 Lookin’ Over in Georgia 121 Mammy-in-law Done Turn Me Out 141 Missus in de Big House 117 Mule on the Mountain 119 My Black Jack 155 My Gal’s a High Bo’n Lady 145 My Girl She’s Gone and Left Me 136 My Home Ain’t Here, Captain 98 My Jane 144 My Man Am a Slap-stick Man 156 My Man He Got in Trouble 81 Never Turn Back 107 No Coon But You 183 No More 108 Nothin’ to Keep[276] 115 O Buckeye Rabbit 110 O Captain, Captain 94 O Lawd, Mamie 91 Oh, de Gospel Train’s A-comin’ 202 Occupied 164 Ol’ Black Mariah 87 On de Road Somewhere 155 On My Las’ Go-’round 128 Out in de Cabin 131 Outran Dat Cop 67 Pharaoh’s Army Got Drownded 190 Pity Po’ Boy 38 Please, Mr. Conductor 44 Po’ Homeless Boy 43 Po’ Little Girl Grievin’ 41 Po’ Nigger Got Nowhere to Go 39 Prisoner’s Song 83 Pull off Dem Shoes I Bought You 140 Pullman Porter 186 Rain or Shine 129 Raise a Rukus Tonight A 173 B 174 C 174 Reason I Stay on Job So Long 112 Reuben 66 Roscoe Bill 62 Save Me, Lawd 196 Section Boss 93 Shanghai Rooster 134 She’s Got Another Daddy 151 Ship My Po’ Body Home 37 Shoot, Good God, Shoot! 87 Shoot That Buffalo 123 Shootin’ Bill[277] 63 Shot My Pistol in the Heart o’ Town 70 Since I Laid My Burden Down 201 Slim Jim From Dark-town Alley 64 Some o’ Dese Days 139 Some o’ These Days 202 Stewball Was a Racer 133 ’Taint as Bad as I Said 75 Take Me Back Home 44 That Liar 168 That Ol’ Letter 43 The Judge He Sentence Me 82 The Sanctified 195 This Ol’ Hammer 111 Throw Myself Down in de Sea 38 Travelin’ Man 59 Trouble All My Days 40 Turn Yo’ Damper Down 126 U-h, U-h, Lawdy 110 War Jubilee Song 169 Wash My Overhalls 126 ’Way Up in the Mountain 104 We Are Climbin’ Jacob’s Ladder 111 We Will Kneel ’Roun’ de Altar 193 What Can the Matter Be? 160 What You Gonna Do? 195 When He Grin 69 When I Git Home 203 When I Lay My Burden Down 200 When I Wore My Ap’on Low 157 When I’s Dead an’ Gone 197 Who Built de Ark? 191 Whoa, Mule 179 Who’s Goin’ to Buy Your Whiskey? 129 Will I Git Back Home?[278] 45 Woke up Wid My Back to the Wall 84 Worried Anyhow 160 Wring Jing Had a Little Ding 175 Yonder Come de Devil 130 You Calls Me in de Mornin’ 129 You Mus’ Shroud My Body 199 You Take de Stockin’, I Take de Sock 140 You Take de Yaller, I Take de Black 146 Transcriber’s Notes The text has been transcribed verbatim from the source document, including inconsistencies and (phonetic representations of) dialects and speech and pejorative and offensive language. Page 29, table: the percentages are as printed in the source document, but appear to be off slightly for brand C and by several percentage points for brands A and B. Page 255, The first represents ...: first and second are reversed compared to the illustration. Changes made: Footnotes have been moved to under the song or text paragraph in which they are referenced. Some minor inconsistencies and obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected silently. Several contractions such as aint’, dont’ and wont’ etc. have been changed to ain’t, don’t and won’t etc. Text in a dashed box was not present in the text as such, but has been transcribed from the accompanying illustration. Page 25: Love, careless, love changed to Love, careless love. Page 30: Lake Ponchartrain Blues changed to Lake Pontchartrain Blues. Page 66: I’m a greasy streak o’ lightin’ changed to I’m a greasy streak o’ lightnin’ (last verse but one). Page 111: trottin’ Sallie changed to Trottin’ Sallie (second verse). Page 226: O dat dress dat you wear so fine? changed to O’ dat dress dat you wear so fine? *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEGRO WORKADAY SONGS *** Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. 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