Chapter XI: The Folk Element in American Music (2)

In general, the love song of the black Creole is more distinctive than that of other Afro-Americans. A famous example is 'Layotte,' utilized by Louis Moreau Gottschalk (b. New Orleans, 1829, of French and English parentage), who achieved international fame both as pianist and composer. Gottschalk did much to make the charm of Creole melodies known to the world. The themes of his piano pieces perpetuate many of these melodies, among them _Avant, grenadier_, which forms the theme of one of his earliest compositions, _Bananier_. The popularity of Gottschalk and the general interest which his music aroused in Paris and elsewhere was one of the sensations of the musical world of that day.

Another class of lyrics peculiar to the Creoles were the satirical songs which may be a survival of a primitive practice brought by their ancestors from America. At carnival times scores of these songs make their appearance--or reappearance,--new and topical words being applied to the old tunes, and public as well as personal grudges are taken out in this manner. Such songs are _Musieu Bainjo_, a mild bit of pleasantry leveled at a darkey who 'put on airs,' and _Michié Préval_, of which Mr. Cable says that for generations the man of municipal politics was fortunate who escaped entirely a lampooning set to its air. 'Its swinging and incisive rhythm made it the most effective vehicle for satire which the Creole folk-song has ever known.' (Krehbiel.) In Martinique these satirical songs, or _pillards_, are more malicious in intent and often cruel in the relentless public castigation they inflict upon the objects of their makers' hate.

Other creole songs are of a historical nature, recording events or episodes of importance to the community. The invasion of Louisiana by the British in 1814, and the capture of New Orleans by the Union forces in 1862, for instance, were thus chronicled.

* * * * *

The musical value and the charm of negro songs were little appreciated until the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University, Tenn., made their famous tour, which began in October, 1871. George L. White, the treasurer of the school--one of the institutions for the education of the blacks that came under the patronage of the American Missionary Association--desirous of raising funds for its maintenance, was struck with the artistic possibilities of the little choir of students which he had organized and trained. After several successful concerts held in nearby towns he embarked upon a grand tour of the country, with the object of raising a fund of $20,000. The little company of emancipated slaves--at no time more than fourteen strong--gave the world so remarkable a demonstration of the musical qualities of their race that the matter has hardly been called into question since. In less than three years, moreover, they brought back to Fisk University nearly $100,000. Their adventures are told in detail by J. B. T. Marsh, who, in his 'Story of the Jubilee Singers,' says in part: 'They were turned away from hotels and driven out of railroad waiting rooms because of their color. But they had been received with honor by the President of the United States, they had sung their slave songs before the Queen of Great Britain, and they had gathered as invited guests about the breakfast-table of her Prime Minister. Their success was as remarkable as their mission was unique!

The climax of their tour was the participation in the World's Peace Jubilee held in Boston in June-July, 1872. There, before an audience of 40,000 people gathered from all parts of the country, they sang themselves into the hearts of the nation, in spite of a recurrence of race prejudice. Their singing of Julia Ward Howe's 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' to the tune of 'John Brown' was, according to Mr. Marsh, 'as if inspired.' 'When the grand old chorus "Glory, Hallelujah" followed with a swelling volume of music from the great orchestra, the thunder of the bands and the roar of artillery, the scene was indescribable. Twenty thousand people were on their feet. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs, men threw their hats in the air and the Coliseum rang with the cheers and shouts of "the Jubilees, the Jubilees, forever!"'

The fame of the 'Jubilees' soon spread abroad, and, responding to a demand, they appeared in England, Scotland, and Ireland, with extraordinary success. Their appeal was direct to the hearts of the people, and an echo of it is preserved to this day in the adoption of at least one melody as an English Sunday-school hymn. A second tour took the colored singers into Holland, Switzerland, and Germany as well, and everywhere they met with the deepest appreciation. Received by the sovereigns of both Holland and Germany, they were given the use of the Dutch cathedrals and the Berlin Domkirche for their concerts. The Berlin _Musikzeitung_ indulged in a long laudatory article concerning their music and the artistic finish of their singing, and Franz Abt, the composer, acknowledged their work in the following remark: 'We could not even take our German peasant and reach in generations of culture such results in art, conduct, and character as appear in these freed slaves.'

Other musicians have from time to time called the world's attention to the value of negro music. Most prominent among them being Dr. Antonin Dvořák, who, during his stay in America, voiced his admiration of it and made use of the material in several of his best known compositions, notably the 'New World Symphony' and the 'American Quartet.' It will be appropriate to add in conclusion the well-known passage from Dr. Dvořák's article in the 'Century Magazine' of February, 1895, which has caused so much comment:

'A while ago I suggested that inspiration for truly national music might be derived from the negro melodies or Indian chants. I was led to take the view partly by the fact that the so-called plantation songs are indeed the most striking and appealing melodies that have been found on this side of the water, but largely by observation that this seems to be recognized, though often unconsciously, by most Americans. All races have their distinctive national songs which they at once recognize as their own, even if they have never heard them before. It is a proper question to ask, what songs, then, belong to the American and appeal more strikingly to him than any others? What melody will stop him on the street, if he were in a strange land, and make the home feeling well up within him, no matter how hardened he might be, or how wretchedly the tunes were played? Their number, to be sure, seems to be limited. The most potent, as well as the most beautiful among them, according to my estimation, are certain of the so-called plantation melodies and slave songs, all of which are distinguished by unusual and subtle harmonies, the thing which I have found in no other songs but those of Scotland and Ireland.'

Many American composers have, since these lines were written, acted upon the suggestion contained in them. We need but mention George W. Chadwick, Henry Schoenefeld, E. R. Kroeger, Henry F. Gilbert, Arthur Farwell, and W. H. Humiston among those who have drawn upon this fertile treasure of thematic material. It is but the beginning, however. American music is becoming more and more distinctive. Whether intentionally or spontaneously, our musical literature is bound to absorb some of the color of so potent an element of national lore.

IV

A great deal cannot be said at this time about the American folk-song from other than negro sources. Doubtless there is a wealth of song to be found in the Spanish-American sections along our borders, in the recesses of the Blue Ridge mountains, whose communities still live by the guide of primitive instincts and in defiance of law and order; on the great prairies of the west, where the cowboy has developed a rude type of chivalry peculiar to himself and with it an idiom reflecting the dare-devil and man-defying existence which he leads. But little has been done to collect this scattered store, to commit it to paper, and to sift the worthy from the dross.

As regards the cowboy songs, the Southwest Society of the Archæological Institute of America, under the direction of Charles F. Lummis, has recently done some pioneer work. One of the songs thus gathered, 'The Lone Prairie,' was harmonized by Mr. Arthur Farwell and published in the Wa-wan Press series in 1905. In the arranger's opinion it is probably the first cowboy song to be printed. As such it acquires a special interest. It is in the minor mode, has the rhythmic snap peculiar to negro music, though it is in triple rhythm, and acquires a certain exotic flavor by the constant use of the minor seventh instead of the leading tone. Its outstanding ethnic character, if it has any, is, however, Irish. It is not improbable that the cowboy song should have acquired a certain tone from the music of the Indian, though a generous admixture of the Celtic idiom is most certainly to be expected from the racial character of the caste.

In the same number of the Wa-wan Press there are two examples of Spanish-Californian folk-songs that are extremely interesting. Their Spanish character is unmistakable, though perhaps the tone is a little more plaintive than we are wont to expect from their original Southern habitat. 'The Hours of Grief' and 'The Black Face' are both set in the minor, and the 2/4 (quasi 6/8) measure, with the characteristic dotted rhythm, only accentuates the sombreness of the sentiment. Syncopation is used sparingly, at the end of a phrase only. The subject of the latter song--the lament of a dusky youth over his unhappy love for a white beauty, would bespeak negro origin, too, and the general character of the piece is certainly reminiscent of the Creole dance songs with their Habañera rhythm.

The Spanish-American songs of further south, of Central America and Mexico, hardly come within our scope, though American composers would be quite justified in drawing upon them for material. A collection recently made by Miss Eleanor Hague, of the American Folklore Society, and published with accompaniments by Edward Kilenyi, does not reveal much beyond the standard of salon music, though in their own home the characteristic environment of Spanish America and the peculiar manner of their performance may add greatly to their effect. To quote Miss Hague:

'To sit in the plaza of some quaint Mexican town on a starry perfumed evening is to realize the significance of highly colored and impassioned utterance. One's blood is fired by the rhythmic quality of the music which floats out from the gaily lighted central pavilion, and the groups of people are a delight to one's eyes: Indians in white cotton clothes, gaudy _serapes_ and big hats; groups of young girls with scarfs over their heads walking about; other groups of young men in the picturesque _charro_ costume, as well as occasional older people of dignified mien. On a bench an exquisitely pretty girl sits beside her mother, with her eyes fixed on space, but quite conscious of the youth in his best embroidered jacket and sombrero, at the further end of the bench, who gazes shyly at her and then looks away with rapture in his eyes. If he has not already begun to "play the bear" under her window he undoubtedly will soon reach that point in his courtship.... In Mexico the guitar is used everywhere for accompanying and also for solos. As a rule in playing accompaniments the natives content themselves with simple harmonies in chord form or as arpeggios; but they have a deep affection for successions of thirds and never seem to tire of their honied sweetness.'

The French-Canadian, across the other border of the United States, also has developed a folk-song peculiar to himself in the course of his romantic existence. It is so closely allied to French folk-song that we have preferred to treat it in that connection. There remains only to be mentioned the folk-song of the Kentucky mountaineer which has had some attention at the hands of Mrs. Jeannette Robinson Murphy, already quoted above. The mountaineer, like the cowboy, is made up of various national strains, and his song in consequence is one of mixed or indefinite character. The rhythmic element again predominates and, indeed, practically all his songs have their principal use in connection with the dance. Fast rhythmic tunes in duple time and in very simple form are sung as accompaniment to all the so-called 'set dances,' which form the chief entertainment at evening gatherings in log cabins. Upon these occasions the fiddler assumes the office of leader for both song and dance--he calls out the tunes, directs the 'figures' and sings the first verse of the song, while his assistant, by a peculiar tapping of the strings of the instrument, marks the rhythm. The songs, or ballads, are often of humorous or bantering flirtatious character, and in them is perpetuated many a peculiarity of mountaineer life.

At this point we end our necessarily incomplete review of American folk-song, a subject which future research will do much to place more nearly within our reach. We shall now discuss briefly the American song in the folk manner, which may be considered to have grown out of the folk-song proper.

V

About the year 1830 an American comedian, W. D. Rice (1808-1860), popularly known as 'Daddy' Rice, stood in a stable in Louisville, Ky., and watched an old, deformed and decrepit negro singing a lively tune to words something like these:

'Come, listen all you gals an' boys,
I'se jes' from Tuckyhoe;
I'm goin' to sing a little song,
My name's Jim Crow
Weel about and turn about and do jes' so;
Eb'ry time I weel about I jump, Jim Crow'--

and a number of other verses recounting the wondrous adventures of 'Jim Crow.' They are not very exciting, to be sure, and their humor hardly appeals to our jaded minds to-day. The tune, too, is mediocre enough. But 'Daddy' Rice saw a great opportunity. He learned the song and sang it, accompanied by all the funny turns and motions of the old negro and many more. Soon after he was appearing in a theatre in Pittsburgh, and, meeting a negro porter on the way, took him to the theatre, borrowed his clothes, donned them, blackened his face with cork and added a black wig of matted moss. When he appeared on the stage and sang 'Jim Crow' the audience roared with laughter; but when he added topical verses of his own and made his antics still funnier, the house went wild. To add to the mirth, Cuff, the negro, whose professional services were in demand, came on to the stage in négligé and frantically expostulated to reclaim his clothes. Of course, the audience mistook the interruption for part of the 'show' and the signal for a climax of hilarity.

That was the birth of 'Negro Minstrelsy'--a type of entertainment which for the greater part of the century was one of the chief delights of the American public. How much, or little, of it was 'negro' matters little--the original impulse, at any rate, came from that source, and the rich opportunities for humor--of an innocent sort--to be gotten out of lampooning the race, were eagerly exploited. The 'dandy darky,' the character created by Rice, soon became a stock article of the common show and he made his way to every stage. The 'cork fraternity,' as one of its members called the profession, enlarged rapidly and soon numbered many distinguished representatives. Joe Jefferson himself made his début in that capacity at the tender age of four, when he emerged from a bag on 'Daddy' Rice's shoulders. As for 'Daddy' himself, he added song after song to his répertoire, until there were enough for several evenings' entertainment. He toured not only America but England as well and acquired a considerable fortune.

He was, by the way, not the first to 'blacken his face professionally.' From Charley White's diary[77] we learn that already in 1799 'Mr. Graupner' did so, 'Pot Pie Herbert' in 1814, Andrew Jackson Allen in 1815, etc., etc. In that year, indeed, according to Mr. Krehbiel, a song description of the battle of Plattsburg was sung in a drama to words supposedly in negro dialect. But organized negro minstrelsy did not exist until 1843, when Frank Brown, Billy Whitlock, Dick Pelham, and Dan D. Emmett appeared in the Chatham Square Theatre, New York, as the Virginia Minstrels and were 'received with deafening applause.' They were soon followed by band after band and hence transferred their labors to England to escape competition. When they returned there were the 'Kentucky Minstrels,' 'Congo Minstrels,' 'Original Virginia Serenaders,' 'African Serenaders,' and many more, among them the famous Christy's Minstrels, organized in 1844 or 1845.

The droll humor of the negro, his native wit and ludicrous ways were a rich field for travesty to draw upon. Exaggerated, burlesqued in showman fashion, it was the joy of audiences still fond of slap-stick comedy. But the pathetic side of negro existence, told in sentimental ballad and stories of plantation life, appealed as well. No less a person than Thackeray was affected by it. According to the famous author's own testimony, it 'moistened his spectacles in a most unexpected manner.'

From a mere accessory to the performance the negro minstrel show, thanks to the ingenuity of Edwin T. Christy, spread itself to usurp the entire evening. Christy created the form, the stereotype, as it were, of the minstrel show. He provided for a first part during which the performers, from four to twenty in number, seated in a single row with the 'interlocutor' in the centre and 'bones' and 'tambo' at either end, engaged in repartee and song in negro dialect alternately. During the second part or 'olio' there were banjo playing, clog dancing, and other 'specialties.' It might be remarked here that the negro minstrel developed a style of instrumentalism all his own, consisting largely of violin and banjo playing, often in trick fashion, between the knees, over the head, behind the back, etc. The third part of the minstrel show degenerated into a musical variety entertainment as far removed from plantation life as possible.

Increased virtuosity notwithstanding, this breaking away from the negro traditions of the old minstrelsy brought about decay. Gorgeous show and glitter superseded negro characterization, just as the coon song took the place of the negro ditty, while only the blackened faces recalled the original intent of the entertainment. At present the minstrel show is dead except in amateur circles of the country town.

But it has served its purpose. It has created a stock of songs which, though not strictly folk-tunes, are so nearly so as to find a legitimate place in this chapter. Only indirectly were they influenced by the negro; their composers were the minstrels themselves--the minstrels of fifty years ago, who constitute as unique a type as has existed in America. Indeed, they wrote the greater part of the 'popular music' of their day. Their entertainment called for a distinct and peculiar type of songs and the supplying of this demand called into play much genuine talent, though the showman was sadly deficient in musical grammar. His first models were probably the negro folk-songs with their stanza and chorus, the former a simple melody, the latter in improvised harmony. 'The melodies which were more direct progenitors of the songs which Christy's minstrels and other minstrel companies carried all over the land were attributed to the Southern negroes; songs like "Coal Black Rose," "Zip Coon,"[78] and "Ole Virginny Nebber Tire" have always been accepted as the creation of the blacks,' says Mr. Krehbiel, 'though I do not know whether or not they really are.'

Most of the names of minstrel composers are now forgotten; B. R. Hanby, the author of 'Ole Shady'; Eastburn, who wrote 'The Little Brown Jug'; the writers of 'Gentle Annie' and 'Rosa Lee, or Don't be Foolish, Joe,' live on by their songs alone. But there are two names, perhaps three, that stand out above the rest and should be remembered as the names of composers. One of them only was a minstrel, Dan Emmett, and one of his inspirations has sufficed to make him immortal.[79] Many other popular and original tunes flowed from his facile pen--'Old Dan Tucker,' 'Early in the Morning,' etc.--but none has achieved the fame of 'Dixie.' The second famous writer of minstrel tunes, Stephen Foster, was a composer who wrote in the minstrel style simply because it was the prevailing style and because he found a ready market for that sort of product. But, regardless of the artistic value of that kind of music in general, Foster must always be counted among the really great American composers.

Stephen Collins Foster was born in Lawrenceburg, now a part of Pittsburgh, Pa., on July 4, 1826. By instinct and by inheritance he was a Southerner, for his father had come from Virginia and his mother from Maryland. Foster was not a professional musician; he acted as bookkeeper for his brother, a prosperous merchant of Pittsburgh, and got his inspiration at camp meetings. He taught himself the flageolet, studied Mozart and Weber assiduously, and acquired a knowledge of French and German by his own efforts. He dabbled in composition, turned out a 'Tioga Waltz' for four flutes (!), and in 1842 wrote a song, 'Open thy Lattice, Love,' to words by someone else. He and five friends constituted themselves a little singing club and for this he wrote many songs, including 'Oh, Susanna,' 'Old Uncle Ned,' etc., in the style of the negro folk-song. Though a German musician of Pittsburgh criticized his work for him, he certainly had no real musical training. By the advice of friends he devoted several years to the voice and pianoforte, 'but he was afraid that too much study would impair his originality! Hence, if his harmonies are bald, his accompaniments empirical, and his part writing unskilled, we need not wonder, but only regret that so graceful a flower was not planted in richer soil.'[80]

After submitting 'Oh, Susannah' to a minstrel troupe Foster adopted that style for most of his songs. There are about one hundred and sixty in all, a small number of them true gems, perhaps unsurpassed in their way; many, especially the later ones, mere pot-boilers. 'The Old Folks at Home,' 'My Old Kentucky Home,' 'Massa's in de Cold, Cold Ground,' 'Old Black Joe,' are practically immortal. They are to America what Silcher's and Weber's songs are to Germany--they are as simple and beautiful in their expression as they are sincere in their sentiment. They were born of the impulse of creation and it is to be remarked that this applies to the text as well, for Foster wrote nearly all of his own lyrics.

There are besides a number of sentimental ballads--'Nellie Bly,' 'Nancy Tile,' 'Come where My Love Lies Dreaming,' etc.--perhaps somewhat more artificial, rather trivial in sentiment and certainly more German than negro in their substance--and some comic pieces, such as 'The Camptown Races.' His last work was 'The Beautiful Dream,' written in 1864.

Foster had a gentle, sweet nature, but lacking in self-discipline and easily led. He was childlike in his sentiments, possessed of a pathetic affection for his parents and an almost maniacal love for his mother throughout his life. He married at the age of twenty-eight, but soon separated from his wife, became shiftless and addicted to drink. Want drove him to rapid production--he could write a song in the morning, sell it at noon and spend the proceeds at night. Finally, he found himself in New York, penniless, without employment and in 1864 came to a tragic end in a cheap East Side hotel at the age of thirty-three.

His life, with its grim romance, reminds one of the career of that other American genius, Edgar Allan Poe. Both were aristocrats of Southern antecedents and made of the very essence of the American stock. Both spoke in an idiom remarkably attuned to the best of the American genius. Foster's melodies partake essentially of the folk manner--they are _volkstümlich_--they might have been folk-songs, except that they are individually conceived, that their birth is legitimate, so to speak. In the hearts of the people they rank as folk-songs, and, their appeal being permanent, interesting conclusions might be drawn from them as to the qualities of the American national character.

The other non-minstrel composer whom we desire to mention as a writer of popular tunes of the minstrel type is Henry Clay Work (b. Middletown, Conn., 1832, d. Hartford, Conn., 1882). Work also was not a trained musician in the modern sense, but a musician of earnest endeavor and sincere expression. Louis C. Elson says 'he sounded the most characteristic note of all the American composers of the time, and his songs give almost every note in the gamut of expression, from sarcasm to triumph, from gaiety to military glory.'

The emancipation movement inspired Work in the direction of pseudo-negro songs--'Kingdom Comin'' and 'Babylon is Fallen' being the first of a series of contributions to the music of the Civil War. Work's most lasting success is, of course, 'Marching Through Georgia,' which properly comes under the head of patriotic songs.

VI

A type of folk-song that is as often appropriated as it is indigenous is the patriotic song. It can be called a folk-song only in the sense that the people sing it, though in a measure it must reflect the character of the people--in a measure only, for one nation is very much like the other when fired by patriotism. Almost invariably, however, such songs are created at times of national stress, when feelings run high and poetic outbursts come from unexpected quarters. Such are the circumstances under which nearly all patriotic songs were created, 'Yankee Doodle,' 'Hail Columbia,' 'The Star Spangled Banner,' 'John Brown,' and 'Marching Through Georgia' included. Some, like 'Dixie,' became patriotic unintentionally, so to speak, and some, like 'America,' were simply applications of foreign tunes to native words.

The earliest American patriotic song, dating from colonial days, was a 'Liberty Song,' the words of which were written by Mrs. Mercy Warren, the wife of Mr. James Warren, of Plymouth. The verses were as amateurish as the music is angular and bombastic. It was advertised in the 'Boston Chronicle' in 1768. Both the advertisement and the song are reproduced in Elson's 'History of American Music' (pp. 140 ff.). The patriotism reflected in the song is that of the Colonial:

'This bumper I crown for our sovereign's health:
And this for Britannia's glory and wealth.
That wealth and that glory immortal may be
If she is but just and we are but free.'

But after 1770 a new version appeared:

'Come swallow your bumpers, ye Tories and roar,
That the sons of fair freedom are hampered once more,
But know that no cut-throats our spirits can tame,
Nor a host of oppressors shall smother the flame.'

After the storm thus foreboded broke loose, the 'Liberty Song' hardly sufficed to express people's feelings, but there was nothing to take its place. To be sure, in William Billings' 'Singing Master's Assistant' there were printed two war songs that became very popular, especially the one for which Billings himself composed the words and set them to his favorite tune, 'Chester':

'Let tyrants shake their iron rod,
And slavery clank her galling chains,
We'll fear them not, we'll trust in God;
New England's God forever reigns,' etc., etc.

'The enthusiasm with which Billings sang and taught these songs communicated itself to the people, even to those who in the prejudice of their time had strenuously opposed singing in the churches, but no one could doubt the composer's sincere patriotism.'[81] Then there were some stanzas, set to an old Scotch tune and sung by the Pennsylvania regiments during the Revolution, and a convivial soldiers' song, 'The Volunteer Boys,' that was composed by Henry Archer, an Englishman, in 1778, and widely sung. But the one revolutionary tune that has survived was, strange enough, originally a song of derision aimed at the American troops by the British. That tune is 'Yankee Doodle.' 'Yankee,' the term still applied to Americans in general by Europeans, but by Americans to New Englanders in particular, has a doubtful etymology. There is an Indian word 'yankoos,' which means invincible, and a Cherokee word, 'eankke,' signifying coward or slave; 'kanokie,' or silent man, was the name applied to Connecticut settlers by the natives--according to 'Diedrich Knickerbocker'--and, finally, there is 'yengeese,' an Indian corruption of 'English'--all possible roots of the word. There are other plausible derivations, including one from the Norwegian and others from the Scotch. The word 'doodle,' too, has a Scotch meaning--'dudeln,' to play music. For the origin of the combination 'Yankee Doodle,' there are, as Mr. Sonneck puts it, 'whole genealogies of theories.' Probably the words were not used before 1700. The first known mention of the song so entitled is in a letter of April 26, 1776, in which it is called 'a song composed in derision of New Englanders, scornfully called Yankees.'

Many theories there are also regarding the origin of the tune. Most of them, including the well-known story of a British officer having composed it during the Revolution, are impossible, while the claim of Dr. Richard Schuchburgh[82] as its composer (at Albany in 1755) is very doubtful. It is said to have been played by a fife-major of the Grenadier Guards in 1750 as a march, and a tune at least similar to it is supposed to have been familiar to the English peasantry previous to the time of Charles I. Whatever its origin, it was played by the Americans at Burgoyne's surrender (Saratoga, 1777) and again at the surrender of Yorktown, at the instance of Lafayette, who probably intended it as a taunt. It was recognized officially as an American national song at the signing of the treaty of Ghent (1814), when the Flemish burghers serenaded the American ambassadors with the tune, having learned it from Henry Clay's servant!

'America,' sung to the same tune as 'God Save the King'--a tune that has been variously appropriated by other nations--had its American origin in the Park Street Church, Boston, the words being written for a children's celebration held on July 4, 1832, by the Rev. Samuel F. Smith, a young theological student. Before this, however, the tune had done service at different times for 'God Save America,' 'God Save George Washington,' and what not. The origin of the melody, like that of many other good tunes, is shrouded in mystery. It is generally attributed to Dr. John Bull (b. 1563), who is supposed to have written it for a banquet given to James I in 1607. But Mr. Sonneck remarks that 'with such arguments [as Mr. Elson's comparisons] the main theme of the last movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony would become very close to being inspired by 'Yankee Doodle.'[83] After citing many theories Mr. Elson remarks that 'there seems, however, scarcely a doubt that Henry Carey, the composer of "Sally in Our Alley," the unfortunate genius who commited suicide after a blameless life of eighty years, with a single half-penny in his pocket [in the year 1740], was the author and composer of the great anthem.'

Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842), in a letter of August 24, 1840, throws light on the origin of 'Hail Columbia,' another popular American patriotic song. It was, according to him, originally a political song rather than a national one. The tune is that of the old 'President's March,' a leading work in the early American répertoire, composed, some say, by Johannes Roth, a German musician of Philadelphia, popularly known as 'Old Roth,' in 1689, but more probably by a certain Pheil, to whom it is attributed in a copy of the year 1793, in the possession of the Library of Congress.[84] In 1798 Hopkinson wrote new words for it, which were a glorification of President Adams and Federalism. Sung by Hopkinson's friend, Gilbert Fox, an actor, at a benefit performance, it roused great enthusiasm and the audience joined in the chorus. But the 'Aurora' of April 27,1798, called it 'a most ridiculous bombast and the vilest adulation of the Anglo-monarchical party.' Since its use as a Federal song 'Hail Columbia' has undergone a considerable process of polishing, but its erstwhile popularity has not by any means worn off.

'The Star Spangled Banner,' because of its exclusive use and its inherent musical strength universally recognized as _the_ 'National Anthem' of America, is, like its brothers, an imported article. The tune is that of an old English drinking song, 'To Anacreon in Heaven,' written by the president of the Anacreontic Society in London about 1770-75. The music is, in all likelihood, by John Stafford Smith (1750-1836), also a member of the society and author of the _Musica Antiqua_ (1832). Its American use dates from 1798, when Robert Treat Paine, whose real name was Thomas Paine, but who objected to being confused with the 'atheist' Paine, adopted it to words of his own, under the title of 'Adams and Liberty, the Boston Patriotic Song.' Other versions, such as 'Jefferson and Liberty,' appeared for various occasions, one even to celebrate the Russian victory over Napoleon! But the real version, the one we know to-day, was born during the War of 1812 under conditions which fire the patriot's imagination.

The story is well known. Francis Scott Key, the author of the words, was sent to the British Fleet in Chesapeake Bay as the envoy of President Madison to request the release of a non-combatant citizen held as prisoner. As the bombardment of Fort Henry was to take place that day, the British commander retained Key till there was no fear of divulging the British plans. On the morning of Sept 14th, after a night of bombardment, the anxious envoy looked toward the fort and there saw the flag of his country still flying proudly over the battlements. Inspired by the sight, he wrote the first stanza on the back of an old letter:

'O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
The rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof, through the night, that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave,
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?'

On the return to Baltimore he wrote the remaining stanzas and the poem appeared in the Baltimore 'American' of September 21, 1814, as a 'broadside.' The stirring measures of the song have never lost their hold on the American people, and the piece has taken its place among the great national anthems of the world.

The next national song, in chronological order, is the popular 'Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean' ('The Red, White and Blue'). Its history is not so romantic. Thomas à Becket, an English actor in 1843, playing at that time in Philadelphia, wrote both the verses and the music, after rejecting a set of verses written by David T. Shaw, a singer then appearing at the 'Museum,' also in Philadelphia. It first appeared, however, as the work of Shaw--until à Becket convinced the publisher of his authorship--after which it was so published, with the inscription 'Sung by D. T. Shaw.' When the author of the song visited England in 1847 he found the song already 'naturalized' as 'Britannia, the Pride of the Ocean,' and it has since become a favorite of the British army and navy.

The national song répertoire received no further notable accessions till the Civil War, a period terrible and wonderful, that called forth expressions of exalted feeling on both sides of the struggle, North and South. 'The Star Spangled Banner' was at first claimed by both sides. But all attempts to adapt the song by the addition of new verses seem to have failed. The South found an early substitute in such songs as 'Maryland, My Maryland,' which James Ryder Randall wrote to suit the melody of the old German folk-tune _O Tannenbaum_. The occasion for this effusion was the attack on the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment while marching through Baltimore.

Of all the other Southern war songs only one has survived, and that was of Northern origin. 'Dixie's Land' was, we have already seen, originally a 'walk-around' dance, written for Bryant's Minstrels by one of their number, Dan Emmett. There has been so much discussion of the circumstances of its birth that it may be well to quote an eye-witness, so to speak, namely, Charley White, the minstrel, whose diary has already furnished us with some facts:

'One Saturday night in 1859, when Dan Emmett was a member of Bryant's Minstrels at Mechanics' Hall, New York, Dan [Bryant] said to Emmett: "Can't you get us up a walk-around dance? I want something new and lively for next Monday night." At that date, and for a long time after, minstrel shows used to finish up the evening performance with a walk-around dance, in which the whole company would participate. The demand for this especial material was constant, and Dan Emmett was the principal composer of all, especially for the Bryant Minstrels. Emmett, of course, went to work, and, as he had done so much in that line of composition, he was not long in finding something suitable. At last he hit upon the first two bars, and any composer can tell you how good a start that is in the manufacture of a melody. The next day, Sunday, he had the words commencing "I wish I was in Dixie." This colloquial expression is not, as most people suppose, a Southern phrase, but first appeared among the circus men in the North. In early fall, when nipping frost would overtake the tented wanderers, the boys would think of the genial warmth of the section they were heading for and the common expression would be, "Well, I wish I was in Dixie." This gave the title or catch line; the rest of the song was original. On Monday morning the song was rehearsed and highly recommended, and at night, as usual, the house was crowded and many of the auditors went home singing "Dixie." The song soon became the rage and several other minstrel organizations ... applied to Emmett for copy and privilege of using it.... Not only was Emmett robbed of the copyright, but the authorship of it was disputed as well.'

In secession days the song was branded in the North as a Rebel song, and a Maine editor attacked Emmett as a Secessionist. It next bobbed up in New Orleans in 1861 as a 'Zouave march' in 'Pocahontas,' appropriated for the occasion by Carlo Patti, the brother of the prima donna, who acted as conductor. When the war broke out, the Washington Artillery had it arranged as a quick-step and soon 'saloons, parlors, and the streets rang with the Dixie air.' The contagious nature of the tune easily accounts for its rapid spread and ultimate universal popularity. It is undoubtedly the most original of all American national songs.

Turning to the North, the first tune we meet is the famous 'John Brown's Body,' one of the most stirring marching songs ever written, a favorite among soldiers the world over. Its origin is humble--a camp-meeting song among many, sung by the negroes in the South years before the War, to religious words. It may be, indeed, a negro folk-song, though its authorship is claimed for William Steffe, a composer of Sunday-school music. It was started on its patriotic career by the 'Tigers,' a battalion in the 12th Massachusetts Regiment. The words 'Say, brothers, will you meet us?' were taken from the lips of recruits by Captain Hallgreen, the author of the poem. John Brown, the hero of the song, was not the John Brown of Harper's Ferry, but a good-natured Scotchman, who was the subject of a current joke among the men. The words were prophetic, for John Brown of the 'Tigers' lost his life during a retreat of the Union forces. All attempts of the superior officers to substitute a name with more dignity and fame miscarried, and John Brown was made immortal by his fellows. The 'Twelfth' sang the song from city to city and the swing of it set people wild. Later, when heard in camp, the tune appealed so strongly to James Freeman Clarke, that he induced Julia Ward Howe to dignify it with more serious words. 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic' was the result.

A composer whose Civil War songs achieved almost the rank of national songs is George F. Root (1820-1895). His 'Battle Cry of Freedom,' 'Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching,' and 'Just Before the Battle, Mother' became favorites during the war and have enjoyed an afterglow of popularity since. Dr. Root was an exponent of the Lowell Mason system,[85] and was a convention leader who had followed Mason in his method of diffusing music among the masses. He was a pupil of George J. Webb and also pursued the study of his art in Paris.

As a final word we must recall Henry Clay Work's 'Marching through Georgia,' which is perhaps the best of the tunes written expressly as war songs. It is a stirring melody with all the qualities of a national anthem, though unfortunately its partisan inspiration and associations will not allow it to be such. There is nothing to record in the way of patriotic songs since the stormy days of the Civil War. Peaceful times have turned composers' attention elsewhere, and progress in the higher forms of art music has gone on apace. Accordingly, it now becomes our duty to record the achievements of American musicians in the field of conscious creative endeavor.

C. S.

FOOTNOTES:

[60] 'Nationalism in Music,' in 'The International,' Dec., 1913.

[61] H. E. Krehbiel, 'Afro-American Folksongs,' 1914.

[62] H. E. Krehbiel, _op. cit._

[63] Richard Wallaschek: 'Primitive Music,' London, 1893.

[64] 'Slave Songs of the United States,' New York, 1867.

[65] 'Ten Years in South Africa.'

[66] H. E. Krehbiel, _op. cit._

[67] In the collection entitled 'Jubilee and Plantation Songs' (Oliver Ditson, 1887) the melody only is given. Mr. Krehbiel gives two harmonizations, but it is a question whether they are satisfactory reproductions of the 'native' spirit of the song. Mr. Henry F. Gilbert has used it in his 'Negro Rhapsody' with most telling effect.

[68] For an example of a pentatonic melody we refer the reader to 'Nobody Knows de Trouble I've Seen'; for the major seventh in a minor key (the use of the augmented second) to the 'Baptizing Hymn' ('Freely Go') and 'Father Abraham' ('Tell It'). This peculiar oriental effect may be, as Mr. Krehbiel thinks, due to a feeling that was natural to the Moors, the Mohammedan negroes who made up a small part of the American colored stock. A specimen of a song in the whole-tone scale is 'O Rock Me, Julie,' in which the refrain is each time a fifth lower than the verse.

[69] 'Slave Songs in the United States.'

[70] James Augustus Grant in 'A Walk Across Africa' says that his people when cleaning rice were always followed by singers who accompanied the workers with clapping of hands and stamping of feet. 'Whenever companies of negroes were working together in the cotton fields and tobacco factories, on the levees and steamboats or sugar plantations and chiefly in the fervor of religious gatherings, these melodies sprang into life.' (Booker T. Washington, in preface to Coleridge-Taylor's 'Twenty-four Negro Melodies.')

[71] Remnants of voodooism have survived in Louisiana to our day. The language of the creole negro is a French _patois_. In his songs this _patois_ is sometimes intermingled with strange words of African origin. Some still have an African refrain, though the negroes no longer understand its meaning. Lafcadio Hearn, upon asking the meaning of the words of one of these songs of a negro woman in Louisiana, received the answer: _Mais c'est Voudoo, ça; je n'en sais rien!_ With the help of philological references Hearn actually traced the words to Africa and made sense out of them in connection with their context.

[72] 'Century Magazine,' Aug., 1899.

[73] Mr. Allen says that the shout is not found in North Carolina and Virginia, though Mr. Krehbiel knows of an example from Kentucky. Mr. Allen says, however, that the term 'shouting' is used in Virginia in reference to a peculiar motion of the body wholly unlike the Carolina shouting.

[74] _La Musique ches les peuples indigènes de l'Amérique du Nord._

[75] _Musik, Tanz und Dichtung bei den Kreolen Amerikas._

[76] George W. Cable in 'Century Magazine.'

[77] White had a long and successful career as a minstrel and manager. Extracts from his diary were printed in the New York _Sun_, April 20, 1902, shortly after his death.

[78] 'Zip Coon,' or 'Turkey in the Straw,' one of the liveliest of American popular tunes, has also been attributed to George Washington Dixon, who appeared on the stage as early as 1830 and sang to the accompaniment of a banjo.

[79] 'Dixie' was a minstrel 'walk-around,' but it has become a patriotic song and we shall speak of it as such later on.

[80] César Saerchinger: 'Stephen Foster and the American Folksong' (_The International_, Feb., 1914).

[81] 'American History and Encyclopedia of Music.'

[82] Dr. Schuchburgh was a surgeon in the British army. He probably wrote the satirical words of the song and adapted them to a familiar tune.

[83] Oscar G. Sonneck: 'Reports on "Hail Columbia," "Yankee Doodle," etc.,' Library of Congress.

[84] _Cf._ Sonneck, _op. cit._, pp. 68-69.

[85] _Cf._ Chapter X, pp. 240 ff.