PART IV. DANCING TUNES.
Turning now to the Dancing tunes, the chief difference to be noted is that they show a more marked departure from what may be called the Jamaican type of melody. Sailors bring popular songs to the seaports, and from there they spread into the country. For a time some of the original words are kept, but before long they get changed. The change is partly due to that corruption of the text which naturally takes place as the songs pass from mouth to mouth, but mainly to the fact that the words, referring as they do to English topics, have no interest here. So we generally find that the tunes are refitted with a complete set of new words, describing some incident which has lately happened in the district, or some detail of daily life. When these reflect, as they often do, upon the characters of individuals the names have been changed and all evidence pointing to the locality destroyed. The same course has been pursued where it is thought the susceptibilities of persons or their relations might possibly be offended, even when there is nothing mentioned to their discredit.
The music consists of three "flutes" (fifes), two tambourines and a big drum. This is the professional element, which is reinforced by amateurs. One brings a cassada-grater, looking like a bread-grater; this, rubbed with the handle of a spoon, makes a very efficient crackling accompaniment. Another produces the jawbone of a horse, the teeth of which rattle when it is shaken. A third has detached from its leather one of his stirrup-irons, and is hanging it on a string to do duty as a triangle. The top of the music is not always supplied by fifes. Sometimes there will be two fiddles, sometimes a concertina, or, what is more approved, because it has "bigger voice," a flutina. On asking to see this strange instrument I was shown the familiar accordion.
Their chief dances are the Valse, Polka, Schottische, and Quadrilles in five figures, of which the fifth figure is the most popular, or as they would say "sweet them most." This figure goes either to 6/8 or 2/4 time. The 2/4 figures of the Quadrilles are often used for Polka, and Polka and Schottische tunes are always interchangeable, the only difference being that the Schottische requires a slower time.
CXVII.
The ball opens with a set of Quadrilles:--
[Music: _1st Figure._
When I go home I will tell me mumma, When I go home I will tell me mumma, When I go home I will tell me mumma That the gals in Jamaica won't leave me alone.]
This is the production of a white musician to whom the black girls were especially attentive.
CXVIII.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Guava root a medicine, Guava root a medicine, Guava root a medicine fe go cure all the young gal fever.]
A decoction of the root of the Guava is used in cases of fever.
"Medicine" is pronounced so as to rhyme with Edison.
CXIX.
[Music: _3rd Figure._
Crahss-lookin' dog up'tairs, Crahss-lookin' dog up'tairs; I lift up me foot an' I hit him a kick an' him roll up him tail an' run. What you fe do with that? What you fe do with that? I meet him up'tairs an' I hit him a kick an' he roll up him tail an' run.]
See note to "Parson Puss and Parson Dog" (p. 93), also Author's Preface.
CXX.
[Music: _4th Figure._
Goatridge have some set a gal So-so shirt them can't wash. Give me back me soap an' blue, Give me back me soap an' blue, Give me back me soap an' 'tarch, So-so shirt them can't wash.]
Goatridge is the name of a neighbouring hamlet. When a boy "gives out his shirts to wash" he also provides the girl with soap, blue and starch.
So-so means even. It also means only, as:--"I get so-so potato fe nyam," I only got potatoes to eat.
"Shirt" is pronounced almost "shut."
CXXI.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Me carry me akee a Linstead market, Not a quatty worth sell. Oh what a losses! Not a quatty worth sell. Me carry me akee a Linstead market. Not a quatty worth sell. Oh not a light, not a bite! Not a quatty worth sell.]
The Akee (_Cupania edulis_), pronounced _acky_, is a handsome tree producing something which one hardly knows whether to call a fruit or a vegetable. Besides the edible part, the beautiful scarlet capsule contains a substance which is poisonous. Deaths by misadventure through carelessness in its preparation for table occur every year.
The time of these Quadrille tunes will be pretty accurately judged. They would all come under _Allegro_ except the First, which is slower than the others, and it might be headed _Allegretto_ or even _Andantino_. The Third figure is not much used, and many dancers do not know the step. Its place is generally supplied by one of the other figures. The most popular of all is the Fifth, of which we have many examples to give. The step is regulated by two beats in the bar of six, so we find that they dance it also to 2/4 time, as for instance:--
CXXII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Since Dora Logan a wahk with Gallawoss, The man them a beat them wife with junka 'tick. Why, why, why, Amily! Bring back me dumpling, yah? Amily! No dog, no puss, no fowl, Amily. Bring back me dumpling, yah?[54] Amily. No dog, no puss, no fowl, Amily. Fetch back me dumpling, yah? Amily.]
[Footnote 54: "Yah?" = Do you hear?]
This has to go very fast, indeed as fast as the words of the second bar can be spoken. It will be found then to correspond to a moderate _Allegro_ in six time counted in two.
Two stories are mixed up here. One of the girl who walks with the Gallawoss--a Lizard with a gold eye and an undeserved reputation for biting--which leads to an age the reverse of golden, when the men beat their wives with junka (short) sticks. And the other, of some incident connected with breakfast in the field, when Amily ate somebody's dumpling and laid the blame on the usual scapegoat, the cat.
CXXIII.
The rapid speed necessitated by some forms of 2/4 time just suits the following:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Fire, Mister Preston, Fire! Fi-er down the lane! Then send the brigade fe go out the fire, The brigade can't out the fire. Fire, Mister Preston! Fire, Mister Preston! Fi-er down the lane! Fire, Mister Preston! Fire, Mister Preston! Fi-er down the lane!]
CXXIV.
Where the beat is in crotchets it sounds unduly slow:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Tief cahffee, Tief cahffee, Tief cahffee, Benigna Field, fe go buy silk dress, Fe go show them Gardon boy, fe go show them Gardon boy, fe go show them Gardon boy, Benigna Field, you tief cahffee.]
Benigna[55] Field steals some coffee to get money to buy a silk dress to show off to the Gardon boys. (Gardon is a place, not a family.)
[Footnote 55: Other unusual girls' names are Ambrogine, Ateline, Irene, Melmorine. These rhyme with Queen. The same Italian _i_ is found in Elgiva, Seppelita, Barnita, Justina, and the English _i_ in Alvira, Marina. The next are all accented, like the last six, on the penultimate; Etilda, Iota, Clarista, Pastora, Barzella, Zedilla, Amanda, Agarta (evidently a variant of Agatha), Timinetia (like Polynesia), Cherryana, Indiana. Then there is Hettybel, and one girl has this astonishing combination--Ataria (rhymes with Samaria), Azadell (? Isabel).]
CXXV.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Fan me, soldier man, fan me; Fan me, soldier man, fan me; Fan me, soldier man, fan me oh! Gal, you character gone! Sake a ten shilling shahl, Sake a ten shilling shahl, Sake a ten shilling shahl oh! Make me character gone.]
CXXVI.
[Music: _Schottische._
Manny Clark a you da man! Manny Clark a you da man! So so ride you ride a Ginger Piece, All the gal them a dead fe you. Oh you take 'notta boil soup, take salt fish 'tick in it, Gal, you want fe come kill me? Oh you take 'notta a boil soup, take salt fish 'tick in it, Gal, you want fe come kill me?]
Manny Clark, a popular player of dance tunes, goes to Ginger Piece and is overwhelmed with attentions by the girls. He addresses himself as follows:--"Manny Clark, you are the man! You just ride to Ginger Piece and all the girls are dying for you." Then, turning to one of them, he adds:--"Oh, you boil the soup with your best, taking Anatto and salt fish to stick into it. Do you want to kill me with kindness?"
Anatto gives a rich yellow colour to the soup. Salt fish (stockfish) is one of the principal articles of diet of the peasantry.
CXXVII.
[Music: _Schottische._
Bungo Moolatta, Bungo Moolatta, Who de go married you? You hand full a ring an' you can't do a t'ing, Who de go married you? Me give you me shirt fe wash, You burn up me shirt with iron, You hand full a ring an' you can't do a t'ing, Who de go married you?]
"You Bungo Mulatto, who is going to marry you? Your ring-bedecked fingers can't do anything. When I gave you my shirt to wash you burned it with an over-hot iron."
Bungo (rhymes with Mungo) means a rough uncivilized African.
A Mulatto is the child of two Brown parents, Brown being the offspring of Black and White. He has rather a yellow skin.
CXXVIII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Bahl, Ada you must bahl, Bahl, Ada you must bahl, Bahl, Ada you must bahl, Ada you must bahl till the cock say coocoocoocoory co.]
Ada has been naughty and has been shut up for a night in the dark. The poor little thing is "bawling," crying out in terror of the nameless horrors of the night.
CXXIX.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Rise a roof in the morning, Rise a roof in the morning; Tell all the nigger them to come, come, come, Rise a roof in the morning. The Monkey and the Baboon them was sitting on the wall, Rise a roof in the morning; I an' my wife cannot agree, Rise a roof in the morning. She 'pread me bed on the dirty floor, Rise a roof in the morning; For Devil made the woman an' God made man, Rise a roof in the morning.]
"Rise a roof" seems to mean, as far as I can understand the explanation, "raise the roof"; as we might say, "row enough to blow the roof off."
"Baboon" always has this accent on the first syllable and a French _a_.
The Blacks do not mind calling themselves niggers, but a White man must not call them so. To say "black nehgher" is an offence not to be forgiven. The word is used again quite kindly in the following:--
CXXX.
[Music: _Jig._
Oh we went to the river an' we couldn' get across, We jump on the nigger back we think it was a horse.[56] Then Stephen, Stephen, Stephen boy, Stephen, Stephen, poor Stephen!]
[Footnote 56: A last reminder to pronounce "acrahss," "harse." The Negro rejects the sound _aw_ altogether and always changes it to _ah_.]
A party get to one of the bends of Four-and-twenty River, so called because the road crosses and recrosses it twenty-four times. Stephen carries them all over.
CXXXI.
[Music: _Polka._
Aunty Jane a call Minnie, Minnie won't go 'peak to him; Aunty Jane a call Minnie, Minnie won't go 'peak to him. Wrap up in a crocus beig In a Sandy Hill, Wrap up in a crocus beig In a Sandy Hill.]
Aunty Jane does not want Minnie to keep company with the boys at Sandy Hill. Of course Minnie wants to go, and she does go. Aunty Jane sets off to bring her home. When she reaches Sandy Hill she calls. Minnie hears, but will not go and speak to her. She hides in the coffee-store by wrapping herself in a crocus bag or sack. "Crocus" is a rough cheap material. Coffee ready for market is put in the finer and smaller canvas bags.
CXXXII.
[Music: _Valse._
Marty, Marty, me wanty go home, Marty, Marty, me wanty go home, Marty, Marty, me wanty go home, Me wanty go home back a yard. Tell me mumma say me wanty come home, Me wanty come home, Me wanty come home, Tell me mumma say me wanty come home, Me wanty come home back a yard.]
Martin has been flogging his wife--not an unusual condition of things--and she wants to go home to her mother. He will take her message quite loyally. The matter will be arranged and they will be good friends living apart. Before long she will go back to him of her own accord. They make up their quarrels as quickly as they fall into them.
CXXXIII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler? What make you shave old Hall? What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler? What make you shave old Hall? What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler? What make you shave old Hall? Mister Barber have two teeth a him mout', Them sweet like a sugar-plum.]
Rosie Fowler left old Hall for Mr. Barber, and being remonstrated with, shaved him, _i.e._ gave him a good beating.
CXXXIV.
[Music: _Mazurka._
Run, Moses, run, Mister Walker da come; Run, Moses, run, Mister Walker da come. If you buck your right foot, buck your left foot, Never try look back; If you buck your right foot, buck your left foot, Never try look back.]
To "buck" is to strike, and the word is applied to a stumbling horse, who is said to buck his foot against a stone, or simply to buck. It also means to butt with the head and is most likely a corruption of this word. Bucking, or charging stag-fashion with the head, is the favourite way for women to fight. Here is an account of such a contest:--
CXXXV.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Whe you da do? Whe you da do? Whe you da do make Sarah buck you? Whe you da do? Whe you da do? Whe you da do make Sarah buck you? Adela da jump but Sarah buck him, Adela da jump but Sarah buck him, Adela da jump but Sarah buck him. Whe you da do make Sarah buck you? You Adela ho you ought to shame! You Adela ho you ought to shame! You Adela ho you ought to shame! Whe you da do make Sarah buck you?]
Fights between women are by no means uncommon. This was a case of _cherchez l'homme_. The ladies both wanted to marry the same man. The "sing" was evidently composed by one of Sarah's partisans for the words are:--"What did you do to make Sarah buck you? Adela jumped, but Sarah bucked her. You, Adela, oh you ought to be ashamed!" Adela's sideway jump was not quick enough to save her from Sarah's head.
"Whe you da do?" literally, What you is do? for What you did do? meaning What did you do? So, if they were trying to talk "deep English," for "Adela da jump" they would substitute "Adela is jump" and think it was quite right.
CXXXVI.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Mother William hold back Leah! Mother William hold back Leah! Me tell you say hold back Leah! Hold back Leah let go Jane Ann! Den a Leah Leah dead 'way, Den a Leah Leah dead 'way, Let go Jane Ann! Let go Jane Ann! Hold back Leah, let go Jane Ann!]
This is sung _agitato_ and pulsates with excitement. We see the bustling, restless action--Mother Williams holding Leah, who is frantic to get at Jane Ann, and who faints with exhaustion as she struggles to escape from the strong arms thrown round her. "Let go Jane Ann!" cry the bystanders, which means:--Make Jane Ann go away, get her out of Leah's sight.
CXXXVII.
This seems a fitting moment to introduce:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Oh General Jackson! Oh General Jackson! Oh General Jackson! Oh you kill all the Black man them! Oh what a wrongful judgment! Oh what a wrongful judgment! Oh what a wrongful judgment! You kill all the Black man them. Oh what a awful mourning! Oh what a awful mourning! Oh what a awful mourning You bring on St. Thomas people!]
This is the other side of the question, referred to in the Digging Sing, No. 88. It is the rebellion of 1865 again, from the point of view of that section of the Blacks who considered themselves aggrieved at the measures taken for its suppression.
CXXXVIII.
We get a glimpse of the doings of the soldiery in peaceable times in:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Soldier da go 'way, Married woman let go your bull-dog to-morrow; Soldier da go way to-morrow, The last of the ring ding to-morrow, Soldier da go 'way, Married woman let go your bull-dog to-morrow; Soldier da go 'way, Married woman let go your bull-dog.]
The soldiers are shifting their quarters. As they are apt to be rather riotous on the night before departure, the owner of the bull-dog is advised to unchain him so that he may guard her property more effectually.
CXXXIX.
There is also a tender side to the parting:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal, First West will soon come back again. Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal, Second West is gone to the war. Don't cry too much, don't cry too much, First West will come and cheer you up. Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal, Second West is gone to the war.]
CXL.
A few years ago Jamaica boasted of water as efficacious as that of Mecca in the opinion of some people. It seems to have lost its repute in these sceptical days:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Dip them, Mister Bedward, dip them, Dip them in the healing stream; Some come with jackass, some come with bus, Dip them in the healing stream.]
CXLI.
It says much for the expertness of the dancers that they can fit the same steps to tunes of such varying accent as the two last examples present. Here is another which differs again:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Very well, very well, Mister Collin now, An' him leave an' join Sabbatarian bands, An' him lose the whole of his members now, Oh then poor Sabbatarian bands!]
Mr. Collin was a minister who told his flock that he had made a mistake in keeping Sunday holy, and that for the future he would have service on Saturday and the people were to come to church on that day and work on Sunday. The "sing" suggests that his congregation was not persuaded by his arguments.
CXLII.
The light-hearted way in which the Negro turns serious things into fun is well illustrated by:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Oh trial! Great trevelation children ho! Trial! We're bound to leave this world. Baptis', Baptis', Baptis' till I die. I been grown up in the Baptis' side an' die under Baptis' rule. Oh trial! Great trevelation children ho! Trial! We're bound to leave this world. Church-light, Church-light, Church-light till I die, I been grown up in the Church-light side an' die under Church-light rule. Oh! trial! Great trevelation children ho! Trial! We're bound to leave this world.]
And so on through all the sects and persuasions, Wesleyan, etc., etc., among them Mettetis (Methodist).
There is no doubt about the word being _trevelation_ a mixture of Revelation, one of their favourite books in the Bible, and tribulation, for which it is intended. The wrong phrasing of two notes to "bound" is as they give it. We should allow only one.
CXLIII.
Every district has its rival churches and the various ministers have to humour their congregations, and not preach too hard things to them, so as to keep them from deserting to the enemy.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Father, I goin' to join the confirmation. No, me son, you must have a little patien', Why I tell you to have a little patien', You must go an' read the Revelation. I heard from my old generation That they never go an' join the confirmation, For they didn' have that great occasion To leave an' go an' join the confirmation.]
It will have been observed that rhyming is the last thing sought after. Here, however, we have a genius who has set his mind upon it with some success. Patience, as pronounced by the Jamaican without the final letters, is a good and new rhyme to the rest. In the old days of slavery, says the father, they did not have the occasion (_i.e._ opportunity) to leave their work to go and be confirmed.
The Black man is such an accomplished actor that he can assume any character. In these sings he throws off the stage trappings and shows his real attitude towards religion, his indifference and levity. He does not take it as a serious matter at all, and it has no effect upon his daily life. To go to church is a mark of respectability. To obtain that mark is one of his reasons for going. The other reason is to show his clothes and his boots. He will talk like a saint for the mere pleasure of rolling out words, and the ministers have to pretend to believe something of what he says. They are not, however, really deceived, and will tell you in private with a sigh that Christianity makes no progress; it is profession without practice. Of the Negro's real religion, which is bound up with Obeah, we get hardly a hint in the sings. This is what we should expect. Some things lie too deep for words and a man's religion is one of them. One general reference I have been able to find, and one particular one, and that is all. Here is the first:--
CXLIV.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Obeah down de why oh! Obeah down de, Obeah down de why oh! Obeah down de. Giberaltar is a well fine place but Obeah down de, Giberaltar is a well fine place but Obeah down de.]
CXLV.
And here the second:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
The other day me waistcoat cut, The other day me waistcoat cut, The other day me waistcoat cut, What a pain an' grief to me. I spend me money but the beggar don't dead, I spend me money but the beggar don't dead, I spend me money but the beggar don't dead, What a pain an' grief to me. All me money gone like butter 'gainst sun, All me money gone like butter 'gainst sun, All me money gone like butter 'gainst sun, What a pain an' grief to me! Sake of the man me live 'pon tree, Sake of the man me live 'pon tree, Sake of the man me live 'pon tree, What a pain an' grief to me!]
Obeah (pronounced in two syllables, Ob-ya, with short Italian vowels) is the dark blot upon this fair island of Jamaica. In every district there is an Obeah-man, or Bush-doctor, as he is often called, from his supposed knowledge of herb simples. He is by no means the innocent person which this latter designation would seem to imply. He deals in magic and sorcery of all descriptions, and there is not a Black man who does not believe in his powers. They consult him on every conceivable business and he gets heavy fees. He will secure a man the favour of his master so that he shall not lose his place, or help him to revenge a wrong, real or fancied. And herein lies the danger. The puerilities of inefficacious charms and mysterious ceremonies with which he deludes his clients are not all. He keeps poison in his bag, and for sufficient reward arsenic has been obtained to put in the liqueur, or ground glass for the coffee. The Government attempts in vain to stamp out the evil.
The story of the last sing is briefly this. A has a friend who is an Obeah-man. From him he gets Obeah to injure an enemy B. The enemy does not suffer. So A says his waistcoat is torn, a figurative way of expressing the fact that he is beaten, B's Obeah turning out to be stronger than A's and able to repel it. Having indiscreetly talked about what he meant to do to B, B reports him to the police, and he has to abscond and seek shelter in the bush till the matter blows over.
CXLVI.
It is a pleasure to be able to leave the hypocrisy of Negro Christianity, and the lurid atmosphere of Obeah and to return to everyday amusements.
[Music: _5th Figure._
All them gal a ride merry-go-round, Me no see no gal like a dem ya. Ride him, ride him, ride him, ride him, Ride him round the town, Ride him, ride him, ride him, ride him, Ride him round the town.]
The merry-go-round is popular. "I never saw such girls," says an admiring bystander. Literally, "I have not seen any girls like those (here) girls." A neighbour of mine used to be made very angry when he first came to Jamaica because when he asked "Have you seen so-and-so?" the answer always was "I don't see him." This is good negro English for "I haven't seen him." It does not mean, as he thought, "I don't see him now," and the poor boy could not understand why his master got so "crahss."
CXLVII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Merry-go-round a go fall down, fall down, fall down, Merry-go-round a go fall down, Sake a de worthless rider. Rider, rider, try to sit down good; Rider, rider, try to sit down good; Rider, rider, try to sit down good, Merry-go-round a go fall down.]
Grammar nowhere as usual. It was not the Merry-go-round that was going to fall down, but the worthless (_i.e._ bad) rider who was going to fall off. "Try to sit down good" is an exhortation to hold on well. This curious use of "try" is found again in:--
CXLVIII.
[Music: _Mazurka._
Try, dear, don't tell a lie, Try, dear, don't tell a lie, Try, dear, don't tell a lie, For I will never marry you. Try an' 'peak the truth me dear, Try an' 'peak the truth me dear, Try an' 'peak the truth me dear, An' you shall get the ring me dear.]
CXLIX.
Here are two more references to the colour question:
[Music: _1st Figure._
Look how you mout', Look how you mout', Look how you mout' fe go kiss moolatta. Look how you mout', Look how you mout', Look how you mout' like a pan.]
CL.
[Music: _Valse._
Breezy say him no want Brown lady, Breezy say him no want Brown lady, Breezy say him no want Brown lady, Afterward him go take Brown lady. Why! Why! Why, Breezy! Why! Why! Why, Breezy! Why! Why! Why, Breezy! Think you say you no want Brown lady.]
CLI.
Here are three sings referring to Colon, the port of disembarkation for labourers on the Panama Canal:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Isaac Park gone a Colon, Isaac Park gone a Colon, Isaac Park gone a Colon, Colon boat a go kill them boy. Colon bolow[57] gone a Colon, Colon bolow gone a Colon, Colon bolow gone a Colon, Colon boat a go kill them boy.]
[Footnote 57: _Bolow_, comrade.]
It was not the boat from Kingston to Colon that killed the boys; the deaths took place on the other side. Many were due to fever, but more, if the stories current here are true, to organised assassination. The wages were very large, and when a Jamaica boy has money in his pocket he gets "boastify." This annoyed the low-class mongrels. A Coolie who was there described to me the proceedings of one night, when the 'panish (by which is meant any straight-haired people) went out in a band and murdered every woolly-haired man they met. They began at one end of the camp, a straight line of barrack huts. Some of the victims were shot through the windows, others slashed with cutlasses. Where there were no lights the assassins passed their hands over the strangers' heads, and if they felt wool, revolver or cutlass did its work. Straight-haired Coolies, that is to say, East Indians, were allowed to go unharmed.
CLII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Matilda de 'pon dyin' bed, Matilda de 'pon dyin' bed, Matilda de 'pon dyin' bed, Matilda de 'pon dyin' bed, Me want go Colabra, Me want go Colabra, Me want go Colabra, Matilda, de 'pon dyin' bed.]
When anybody is very ill all the members of the family, including quite distant relatives, think it incumbent upon them to go to the sick person's yard. They crowd into the house and sick-room and pour out a clatter of talk.
Colabra (Culebra) is a place near Colon. Matilda must have been an old Jamaica acquaintance who had gone over to settle there.
CLIII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Mas' Charley say want kiss Matty, Kiss with a willing mind, Me rarabum why! Colon money done, Me rarabum why! Colon money done.]
"Me rarabum" is a nonsense phrase equivalent to "my boy." "My boy, hi! the money I made at Colon is done!"
CLIV.
Here is the lament of an out-of-work cabdriver:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Me buggy a sell fe eight an' sixpence Whe me a go get fe drive? Me buggy a sell fe eight an' sixpence, Whe me a go get fe drive? Me buggy sell at last, poor me boy! Whe me a go get fe drive? Me buggy sell at last, poor me boy! Whe me a go get fe drive?]
CLV.
The words of the next dance have a certain interest, but the tune is poor:--
[Music: _Polka._
Oh 'zetta Ford, gal, you name no worth a cuss! Tief big big hog, Put ahm in a jar. Piccany da cry, Sit down whole a day, You tief big big hog, Nyam ahm out a door.]
The girl stole the pig, killed it, cut it up and put the meat into a jar. This was done out in the bush, far away from her yard, and took the whole day. Meanwhile her poor little babies were starving at home, having been left without any one to look after them.
CLVI.
There is an idyllic simplicity about the following:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Birdyzeena, Birdyzeena, Come make we go da Champong market, Come make we go, dear, Come make we go, dear, Come make we go da Champong market.]
CLVII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Me an' Katie no 'gree, Katie wash me shirt in a sea. If you t'ink a lie, If you t'ink a lie, Look in a Katie yeye.]
CLVIII.
Water seems formerly to have been scarce in Kingston, judging by the following:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Down town gal no have no water to wash them head to keep them clean. Down town gal no have no water to wash them head to keep them clean. Why! Why! Why! Take them gal in charge. Why! Why! Why! policeman, Take them gal in charge.]
CLIX.
The policeman is not always on the spot when he is wanted:--
[Music: _4th Figure._
Sal you ought to been ashame! You tief Mister Dixon Brahma, You nyam ahm a Yaws-house[58] level, Sally ought to been ashame.]
[Footnote 58: _Yaws_, see p. 57.]
In this country any plot of ground that is moderately flat is called a level.
CLX.
[Music: _4th Figure._
Good morning, Mister Harman, How are you this morning? I brought a serious complain about the old Barbadian. What about the 'badian? Him shirt has no border, Him face favour marlan, Come give me me one an' ninepence.]
The singer goes to Mr. Harman, who is employing the Barbadian (whom he accuses of wearing a ragged shirt and having a face like a marlingspike), to try and get some money which the latter owes the complainant. This is an excellent example in short of an interview between two Black men. Of the sixteen bars four are occupied with salutation, four with complaint, and four with abuse. Two are given to a question as to the cause of complaint which receives no answer, and two to a demand for money owed by another person. So we have three-quarters of the interview devoted in equal parts to compliment, complaint, and abuse; one-eighth to an attempt on the part of the person interviewed to discover what is amiss; and one-eighth to a demand for money from the wrong man.
CLXI.
The lovers' quarrel which comes next is evidently not serious:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Hullo me honey! Hullo me sugar! Hullo me old time gal! Oh den, gal, if you love me, Why don't you write me? Hullo me old time gal! Hullo me honey! Hullo me sugar! Hullo me old time boy! Oh den, boy, I wouldn' married you, Not for a fardin', Hullo me old time boy!]
CLXII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
When mumma dere you say you sick, Dis mumma gone you get better, 'tan' 'teady till him come 'tan' 'teady, 'tan' 'teady till him come 'tan' 'teady.]
When mamma tells her daughter to take her hoe and come out into the field she feigns sickness. Her brother comes in and finds her quite well. "All right," he says, "just (dis) you stand steady ('teudy, French _eu_), just you wait till she comes home and you will get a flogging."
CLXIII.
We never go far without meeting some story about petty thieving:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Oh Jilly oh! how you manage a jump the window? Oh Jilly oh! how you manage a jump the window? Doctor Clark a one an' tanner, Major Black a two an' six, Mister Nelson three an' six, How you manage a jump the window?]
Jilly had been "tiefing" money and made her escape by jumping out of window. "Tanner," for sixpence, is common in English slang but not here. It seems to have been derived in this case from the White soldiers at Newcastle.
CLXIV.
[Music: _5th Figure._
James Brown, you mahmy call you. James Brown a shake him shoulder. Sake a the young gal butterdore, James Brown a shake him shoulder.]
To express dissent they do not shake their heads but wriggle the whole of their bodies. It is a most expressive action.
A butterdore, more properly butter-dough, is a kind of cake.
CLXV.
The next repeats the idea of No. CXVIII., but in the mouth of a girl.
[Music: _4th Figure._
When I go home I will tell me mumma say, When I go home I will tell me mumma say, When I go home I will tell me mumma say That the boy in the country love me very much.]
CLXVI.
The next is the only example of pure fiction that I have met with:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Feather, feather, feather, Baby da born with feather. You cut off the fowl head an' boil it in a 'tew-pan, Baby da born with feather. Feather, feather oh! Baby da born with feather. Feather, feather oh! Baby da born with feather. You cut off the fowl head an' boil it with the feather, So the baby go born with feather. I hear the news as I re'ch to Hagley Gap, Say baby da born with feather. Something me never hear, Something me never hear that Baby can born with feather. Something me never hear, Something me never hear that Baby can born with feather.]
All the other sings are chronicles of true events, and it is an exceptional case to find one purely the offspring of imagination like this one. The compiler of the words could not get quite free of actuality; he puts in Hagley Gap, which is the name of a pass through the hills. I once asked why it was so called and was told because it was a hugly place. The cooking described savours of Obeah.
CLXVII.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
When the rain an' the breeze an' the storm an' the sun I never see a man like Quaco Sam, He live in the sun as well as the rain, I never see a man like Quaco Sam. Quaco Sam was a little bit a man, I never see a man like a Quaco Sam, For he never build a house but he live as any man, I never see a funny man as Quaco Sam.]
CLXVIII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully; Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully; Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully; 'cratch me back, me will make one shirt fe you fe you. Anch a bite me, Anch a bite me, Anch a bite me, Anch a bite me, Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully; 'cratch me back me will make one shirt fe you.]
Small black ants often swarm on the orange-trees, and the pickers, who do not use ladders but climb the branches, get covered with them. We all know that place in the "gully" or furrow of the back which we cannot reach ourselves.
CLXIX.
[Music: _4th Figure._
Me know one gal a Cross Road, Name of Lucy Banker, Him boil the long long cabbage bush, Him go long like a sailor nanchor. Follow me, follow me, You no see whe the gal a follow me, Follow me, then follow me, You no see whe the gal a follow me.]
The story of the foregoing sing is this:--Lucy asked a fiddler and his friend to breakfast. The cooking was bad. The boiled bananas, which should have been light brown, were black, and the cabbage was not done enough, so that it was ropy or "long," as they aptly describe it. For these shortcomings the fiddler "put her a sing," _i.e._ put her into a sing.
CLXX.
[Music: _Schottische._
Moonshine baby, don't you cry, Mumma will bring somet'ing fe you, Some fe you, Some fe me, Fe we go boil wi' dirty pot.]
This is a hit at another careless cook who had disregarded the time-honoured rule, "First wash your pot."
A moonshine baby is a pretty baby.
CLXXI.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
I have a news to tell you all about the Mowitahl men,[59] Time is harder ev'ry day an' harder yet to come. They made a dance on Friday night an' failed to pay the drummer, Say that they all was need of money to buy up their August pork. Don't let them go free, drummer! Don't let them go free, drummer! For your finger cost money to tickle the poor goat-'kin. Not if the pork even purchase self Take it away for your labour, For your finger cost money to tickle the poor goat-'kin.]
[Footnote 59: Mowitahl = Mowatt Hall.]
The first of August (Ahgust as they call it) is the anniversary of Emancipation Day, and is a time of feasting and rejoicing. As in the case of wedding festivities, they do not limit themselves to one day, and holiday-making goes on for a week or longer.
The goat-skin drum is pitied for the thumping it gets. So a man will often stroke his picker (pickaxe) and say:--"He no a come out if he t'ought him face would a jam so a dirty," he would not have come out if he had thought his face was going to be thrust so hard into the ground.
"Self" is a redundant word. It strengthens "even if."
CLXXII.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Once I was a trav'ller, trav'ller over the mountain, I nearly dead for water but a young gal show me the fountain. Why, why me picny! You shall be me wife. Show me you mammy an' you daddy, An' you shall be me wife. I have another sister, she blind she cannot see, But, if you wish to court her, you can come with me. Why, why me picny! you shall be me wife. Show me you mammy an' you daddy, An' you shall be me wife.]
When a Black man says he is nearly dead for water he only means that he is rather thirsty.
This sing is of an unusual form and suggests a foreign origin.
CLXXIII.
Here, on the contrary, is something typically Jamaican:--
[Music: _5th Figure._
Oh! me wouldn' bawl at all, Oh! me wouldn' bawl at all, Oh! me wouldn' bawl at all, For the policeman come tell a lie 'pon me.]
A boy who has been arrested, conscious of his innocence, does not go through the usual pantomime of shrieks and tears. The policeman (observe the accent on the word) told a lie about me, he says.
CLXXIV.
Thoroughly Jamaican too, as to its words at least, is:--
[Music: _Jig._
You take junka 'tick fe go lick maugre dog, You take junka 'tick fe go lick maugre dog; When maugre dog dead a whe you a go do? Whe you a go do, Birdie? Whe you a go do?]
This is a remonstrance addressed by a mother to her daughter who has taken up a short stick to beat her. "It is true," she says, "that I am but a lean dog, but when the lean dog is dead what are you going to do?" (_Maugre_, French _maigre_, pronounced _mahgher_.)
CLXXV.
[Music: _John Canoe dance._
Yellow fever come in, Me can't walk again; Him broke me hand, him broke me foot, Me can't walk again.]
The "John Canoe" are masked dancers very agile in their movements. Yellow fever is now happily rare in Jamaica. "It has come and caught me," says the patient, "and broken my arms and legs so that I really can't walk."
"Again" has a curious use here, which is perhaps better shown by the following illustration. A man was reported to be dead. Next day came the intelligence:--"He don't dead again," he is not dead after all, he is not really dead. Compare No. LXII.
CLXXVI.
[Music: _Schottische._
Jimmy Rampy a come oh, Sal oh! Jimmy Rampy a come oh, Sal oh! Some a wash him foot, some a comb him hair, Some a put him to bed, put him to bed oh, Sal oh! Jimmy Rampy a come oh! Sal oh! Jimmy Rampy a come oh, Sal oh! Some a wash him foot, some a comb him hair, Some a put him to bed, put him to bed oh, Sal oh!]
"Sal oh!" is perhaps a corruption of _Salut_. Tradition associates a curtsey with the word.
CLXXVII.
The next calls to mind the Ring tune (No. XCIX.), "Rosybel oh, why oh!"
[Music: _5th Figure._
Susan very well, why oh! Susan very well, why oh! Susan chop bolow with tumbler, Susan chop bolow with tumbler, Susan go chop bolow with tumbler, Susan go chop bolow with tumbler.]
A case of assault with a broken piece of glass. Here is something more serious:--
CLXXVIII.
[Music: _1st Figure._
Bahss, Bahss, you married you wife; Bahss, Bahss, you married you wife; Bahss, Bahss, you married you wife, You married you wife an' kill him again. You take up you wife an' carry him to church, You take up you wife an' carry him to church, You take up you wife an' carry him to church, An' afterward you kill her again.[60]]
[Footnote 60: _Bahss_, Boss. "Carry him" is in two syllables, sounding like _ca-yim_.]
CLXXIX.
The next is a pretty lullaby, which they call a Nursing sing:--
[Music:
Blackbird a eat puppa corn, oh! Blackbird a eat puppa corn, oh! Come go da mountain, go drive them, Blackbird a eat puppa corn, oh! Blackbird a eat puppa corn.]
CLXXX.
[Music: _Schottische._
Me da Coolie sleep on piazza with me wrapper round me shoulder, Me da Coolie sleep on piazza with me wrapper round me shoulder.]
"Me da," literally, "I is," I am.
The piazza, which is not pronounced in the Italian way but nearly rhymes with razor, is the long narrow entrance-room of Jamaican houses. A wrapper is a large piece of linen which serves all sorts of purposes. It is used as an article of clothing both by day and night, and also makes a convenient bag for rice.
Many of the East Indian Coolies, originally brought over to work on plantations, have now settled in Jamaica.
CLXXXI.
[Music: _Schottische._
Notty Shaw, you better go home; Notty Shaw, you better go home; Notty, run in the garden an' pick a bunch of flowers; Notty Shaw, you better go home; Notty Shaw, you mother want you service; Notty Shaw, you mother want you service; Notty, go in the garden you see a bunch of rose; Notty Shaw, you better go home.]
"Notty" is short for Nathaniel.
"Rose" means any kind of flowers. When they want to indicate what we call roses they say "sweet-rose."
CLXXXII.
[Music: _1st Figure._
You worthless Becca Watson, You worthless Becca Watson, You worthless Becca Watson, You ought to been ashame. Them write you name an' t'row it a pass, Them write you name an' t'row it a pass, Them write you name an' t'row it a pass, you ought to been ashame.]
A familiar tune, I think a mixture of two.
To write disparaging remarks on paper, which is then thrown in the "pass" (path, road), for anybody to pick up and read, is a common trick. The epithet "worthless" seems to imply that Becca was not altogether free from blame. They seldom say "bad." It is almost always "worthless."
CLXXXIII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Since the waggonette come in Parker take to heart dead, Since the waggonette come in Parker take to heart dead. Never mind conductor, Parker take to heart dead. Never mind conductor, Parker take to heart dead.]
The reference is to a local enterprise, the Waggonette Company. It unfortunately failed, and the death of a person interested in its success, happening immediately after, is attributed to the failure. For "come in" we should say "were taken off."
CLXXXIV.
[Music: _Schottische or 4th Figure._
Them Gar'n Town people them call me follow-line, Them Gar'n Town people them call me follow-line, Them Gar'n Town people them call me follow-line, Somebody dying here ev'ry day. A ten pound order him kill me pardner, A ten pound order him kill me pardner, A ten pound order him kill me pardner For somebody dying here ev'ry day. Den number nine tunnel I would not work de, Den number nine tunnel I would not work de, Den number nine tunnel I would not work de For somebody dying here ev'ry day.]
An incident, or perhaps it were better to say an accident, in the making of the road to Newcastle. A man who undertook a piece of contract work for L10 was killed by a falling stone. The so-called tunnels are cuttings. Number nine had a very bad reputation.
Gordon Town is a hamlet nine miles from Kingston. The driving road ends there, and access to the mountain district beyond is obtained only by mule tracks.
Strangers are called "follow-line" because, as they come down from their homes in the higher hills, they walk in strings. No Black man or woman ever goes alone if he can help it. He always hitches on to somebody else, and the string increases in length as it passes along. This walking in Indian file is necessitated by the narrowness of the track, which is seldom wide enough for two to walk abreast.
The tune has the character of a march rather than of a dance, but I am assured it is used for a Schottische, which has a somewhat slower measure than a Polka, and for Fourth Figure. Their cleverness in adapting the same steps to different rhythms has been already commented on.
CLXXXV.
The last of our tragedies, a murder this time, is chronicled in:--
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Young gal in Jamaica take warning, Never leave your mother house alone, For that was the cause why Alice get her death while driving in the May Pen cyar.]
"The May Pen cyar" is a tramway which runs to May Pen, the cemetery of Kingston.
CLXXXVI.
[Music: _4th Figure._
Me no min de a concert the night When Martha an' Pompey catch a fight. Da Martha da Pompey, Da Martha da Pompey catch a fight.]
"Me no min de," literally, "I not been there," I was not there. Nobody hearing these words for the first time would ever suspect that they were English. People are always said to "catch fight" when they come to blows.
Few of the old classical slave names like Pompey now survive.
CLXXXVII.
[Music: _1st Figure._
Complain complain complain, Complain about me one, Me daddy complain, me mahmy complain, Complain about me one.]
"Me one," _i.e._ "only me." Everlasting complaints, always about me! (What child does not suffer in this way?) In Negro speech _complain_ stands for complaint as well as for the verb.
CLXXXVIII.
Elderly readers will recognise a popular song of thirty years ago in the following:--
[Music: _2nd Figure._
I can't walk on the bare road, cyart man, I can't walk at all; When I remember, When I remember, When I remember them. Oh Captain Baker, I never can walk again, For when I remember the cyart man, cyart man, When I remember them.]
These words taken as a whole refer to the carts of the United Fruit Company of which Captain Baker is the manager. In defiance of rules girls may be seen perched on top of the bunches of bananas in the laden carts.
CLXXXIX.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Come go da mountain, Come go da mountain, Come go da mountain go pick coco finger, Busha Webb an' all a pick coco finger, Busha Webb an' all a pick coco finger; Pick coco finger, Pick coco finger, Come go da mountain go pick coco finger.]
"Come let us go to the mountain and dig cocoes. Overseer Webb and everybody is digging them." A plan often adopted is to dig round the root, search for the tubers, pick them off and then push back the soil. This may be the picking referred to, only the tubers do not look like fingers. They are the shape of a peg-top.
Another suggestion is that the fingers are the young rolled-up leaves which are picked before they expand for spinach. This variety of interpretation, coupled with the fact that the word _finger_, always applied to bananas, is never used in speaking of cocoes, points to this being a very old sing.
CXC.
[Music: _Valse._
Amanda Grant, me yerry your name, yerry your name a bamboo root. Why! Why! me yerry your name, Why! Why! yerry your name, Me yerry your name a bamboo root.]
Amanda stole some money and hid it at the foot of a bamboo.
CXCI.
[Music: _2nd Figure._
Last night I was lying on me number, An' a foolish man come wake me out of slumber, Say Why oh! Why oh! I never see a woman dancing with a wooden leg. Bammerlichy, bammerlichy, bamby, Bammerlichy, bammerlichy, bamby, Bammerlichy, bammerlichy, bamby, I never see a woman dancing with a wooden leg.]
The scene is laid in the People's Shelter at Kingston which has numbered sleeping-berths.
At "Bammerlichy" etc. the dancers imitate the stiff action of a wooden leg.
CXCII.
[Music: _5th Figure._
Me lassie me dundooze, me dundooze come kiss me, The kiss that you give me it rest on me mind till it give me the aygo. When we married an' settled down we have no cause to say, For as soon as the parson pass up the sentence nothing to part us.]
"Dundooze" (or dundoze, for it is rather hard to catch the vowel) is a term of endearment. Others are, honey, lover, sugar, sweety, marvel, bolow, bahzoon.
"Aygo" is ague; "say," perhaps, sunder.
CXCIII.
The next conveys an appreciative reference to a proprietor who is a large employer of labour.
[Music: _Polka._
Mister Davis bring somet'ing fe we all, Mister Davis bring somet'ing fe we all. Oh him bring black gal, An' him bring brown gal, An' him bring yaller gal an' all.]
CXCIV.
[Music: _5th Figure._
A whe the use you da hang da me neck-back, Married man me no want you. Turn back, married man, turn back, you brute, Turn back married man, married man a dog.]
CXCV.
[Music: _4th Figure._
Quattywort' of this! Quattywort' of that! till him come up to a shilling oh! Why Brown man! Why Brown man! you have a nasty way, Robson.]
The boy has run up a score at the shop and professes astonishment at the items and the total. Black trusts White more than Brown.
CXCVI.
We end with the pretty flowing melody:--
[Music: _Schottische._
Mahngoose a come, Dory, Mahngoose a come. All them gal are dead fe Dory, Mahngoose a come. Come back me dear Dory, Come back me dear. All them gal are dead fe Dory, Mahngoose a come.]
The mongoose was introduced into Jamaica to kill the rats. Unfortunately rats sleep in the day and the mongoose sleeps at night, so they never met. How the mongoose took instead to killing chickens has been often told. Dory is having a private interview with a girl who has another admirer. This man has announced his intention of chastising Dory. "Mongoose has come" is a preconcerted formula which means, "the other man has come, Dory, look out!" When a gang of labourers is working and one of them catches sight of his master in the distance, he will sing this song and the others understand that they must pretend to be busy.
THE END.
NOTE.--(_Accidentally omitted on page 77_: _Cf._ Nos. 56, 67, 132, 133).
Marriage is, unhappily, often a failure. The woman, in marrying, has attained the goal of her ambition. Now that she is Mrs. Smith she "sits down" and refuses to help her husband, provision-ground food is not good enough for her, and she is always calling out for a new frock. In a few years the couple separate and the home is broken up, with disastrous consequences to the children. In the old days the custom was to defer the ceremony (as Constantine deferred his baptism) to a very late period. This plan worked very well. The couple did not marry till they knew for certain that they suited each other, and often their well-brought-up children and grandchildren danced at the wedding.
_APPENDIX._
_A._ TRACES OF AFRICAN MELODY IN JAMAICA.
I have been asked to read through this book in proof, with the object of ascertaining whether the Jamaican songs bear any traces of an African origin.
Unfortunately, it must be confessed at the outset that our knowledge of African music is scantier than that of almost any other kind of primitive music. In other regions of the globe the phonograph has been effectively utilised in acquiring accurate records of songs and dances. These records have been brought back to Europe, where they have been studied at leisure and their peculiarities of interval and rhythm have been precisely determined.
But in the case of African music (apart from a few imperfectly studied records in my own possession) we have to rely entirely on the versions which travellers have taken down for us in the field. We have to assume, in the first place, the correctness of their 'musical ear,' and in the second place, the possibility of expressing in European notation those delicate shades of pitch and time in which the characteristics of primitive music so essentially consist. And both these are unwarrantable assumptions.
However, from our study of comparative music elsewhere, we may make one statement with certainty, namely, that _an_ African music does not exist. There must be almost as many styles of native music in Africa as in Europe--varieties differing not only broadly in general form and structure, but also more minutely in the intervals and rhythms which are employed.
I have been informed by travellers in West Africa that surprising differences occur in the degree of development of musical art even in closely neighbouring regions. In one district hardly any music is to be heard at all; in another the music is most uncouth; in a third it is highly agreeable to the European ear; while some parts of West Africa have advanced to the stage of part-singing.
The most erroneous notions have been expressed as to the nature of African music. I have seen it stated that African songs consist in a gradual descent from a higher to a lower pitched note. That this is far from being usually the case is shown in the following specimens, which I have gathered from various narratives of African travel.
I.
[Music: _Boat Song. Congo District._]
II.
[Music: _Boat Song. Congo District._]
III.
[Music: _Song of Bawili Women._]
IV.
[Music: _Funeral Song. Angola._]
V.
[Music: _Song. Angola._]
VI.
[Music: _Song. M. Balunda._]
VII.
[Music: _Dance-Song. M. Balunda._]
VIII.
[Music: _Boat Song. Guinea Coast._]
IX.
[Music: _Song. I. of Bimbia._]
Songs I. and II. from _La route du Tchad_. Jean Dybowski. Paris. 1893. pp. 198-9.
Songs III.-VII. from _Aus West-Afrika_. Hermann Soyaux. Leipzig. 1879.
Song VIII. from _Einige Notizen ueber Bonny_. Goettingen. 1848.
Song IX. from _A Narrative of the Expedition ... to the River Niger_. London. 1848.
A great deal might be said about the general character of these songs, _e.g._ the simplicity and brevity of the phrases, and the fondness for triple measure.
But I pass on to consider three very interesting examples of Jamaican music which, thanks to my friend Mr. N.W. Thomas, I have found recorded in 1688 in Sir Hans Sloane's _Voyage to Jamaica_. "Upon one of the Festivals where a great many of the Negro Musicians were gathered together," he writes, "I desired Mr. Baptiste, the best musician there, to take the words they sung and set them to Musick which follows."
X.
[Music: _Angola Song._
Hobaognion Hobaognion Hoba Hobaognion ognion.]
XI.
[Music: _Papa Song._]
XII.
[Music: _Koromanti Songs._
Meri Bonbo mich langa meri wa langa.]
From _A Voyage to ... Jamaica ..._ by Hans Sloane, M.D. London. 1707. Vol. i. pp. l, li.
The words of these songs are _Hobaognion, ognion_ and _Meri Bonbo mich langa meri wa langa._ Sir Hans Sloane observes that the Jamaican negroes of that time had their native instruments: (i) gourds with necks and strung with horsehair, (ii) a "hollow'd Timber covered with Parchment," having a bow for its neck, the strings tied longer or shorter.
These songs, however inaccurately recorded, are of the greatest value for the hint they give us of Jamaican music as it existed over two centuries ago. It will be observed that the songs are named 'Angola' and 'Koromanti,' according to their African _provenance_. In the present collection of modern songs, reference is made in Song CI. to Koromanti ('Cromanty'). So, too, the word 'Bungo' in Song CXXVI. no doubt refers to the large Bongo district of Africa (cf. 'Bungo talk,' p. 12, _n._).
We can hardly expect to find considerable traces of this aboriginal African music after two centuries of missionary and of trade influence. African travellers have repeatedly told us how prone the negro is to introduce fresh tunes from other villages and to adapt them to his own purposes. Indeed, the contaminating influence which the Arabs and Portuguese have exercised upon primitive African music makes the study of the latter especially difficult.
But a community does not adopt exotic music without at the same time exercising selection. Those melodies have the greatest chance of success which, to some degree at least, follow the current canons of public taste. Revolutionary innovations are rare. The gradual changes in taste which take place are the result of such selective adoption of foreign music as we have indicated.
There is one feature in the above-quoted 'Angola' song which is also shared by the modern songs of this collection, namely, the presence of 'bobbins' or short refrains.
The simplicity in structure of the songs is still a feature of Jamaican music. I may be allowed to call attention to the repetition of single phrases in Song XVIII. and to the building up of simple phrases in Songs LXXVII. and LXXIX.
I had hoped that some light might be thrown on the antiquity of certain songs by the presence of nonsense words; but in this I was disappointed.
I quite agree with Miss Broadwood (see next page) that the majority of the songs are of European origin. The negroes have learnt them from hearing sailors' chanties or they have adopted hymn tunes.
But adoption always involves adaptation. A song is modified to suit the current canons of taste. In Song L. I observe 'Home, Sweet Home' and (in the latter half) a hymn tune which I frequently heard in the Torres Straits. Song CXXXIX. is doubtless 'The British Grenadiers.' But it, again, has not been adopted without modification.
Needless to say, a detailed study of these modifications would throw light on the characteristics of modern Jamaican music.
In Song XXXI. a typical non-European modification is the insertion of an extra (the fifth) bar, so that the phrase consists of nine bars. The five time in Song XI., the change of accent at the close of Song XXIV. and in Song XLI., are no doubt the expression of African delight in the complexities of rhythm.
In the already-quoted 'Koromanti song,' we may observe the curious temporary change of rhythm in the second air, and the characteristic measure which prevails throughout the third air with its syncopation and almost baffling changes. Such features are precisely what we should expect to meet with among a primitive people who more than two centuries ago doubtless possessed in a still higher degree that delight in complication of rhythm which according to Mr. Jekyll (p. 6) persists among their descendants of to-day. For a more detailed study of this aspect of the subject I may perhaps refer enquirers to my "Study of Rhythm in Primitive People" (_British Journal of Psychology_, vol. i. pp. 397-406).
The present taste and preferences of the Jamaican negroes may perhaps be gauged by the similarities and differences in the first bars of Songs LXIII., LXIV., and LXXVIII., by the similarity of Songs I. and VIII., XV. and XXVII., and of the bobbins in LIV. and LXVIII.
But it is not my intention to make a detailed analysis of the songs of the present volume. My object has been rather to emphasize our present ignorance of African music, and to indicate the lines along which a more intimate acquaintance with African and Jamaican songs may be expected to lead to conclusions as to their relation to one another.
C.S. MYERS.
_B._ ENGLISH AIRS AND MOTIFS IN JAMAICA.
By far the greater part of these Jamaican tunes and song-words seem to be reminiscences, or imitations, of European sailors' "chanties" of the modern class; or of trivial British nursery-jingles adapted, as all such jingles become adapted.
Except in the cases specified below, I have not found one Jamaican tune which is _entirely_ like any one English or European tune that I happen to know. But unrecorded folk-tunes are essentially fluid, and pass through endless transformations. In all countries any one traditional ballad may be sung to dozens of distinct traditional tunes, each of these again having variants. It is therefore quite possible that versions of some of the older-sounding Jamaican airs are being sung unrecorded at this moment in the British Islands or elsewhere.
I note below such instances of modal tunes as occur in this collection. I should perhaps explain that by "Modes" are meant those ancient scales (other than our major and minor scales) which amongst European composers fell into disuse at the beginning of the 17th century, but which survive still in the ancient Church Music (popularly called "Gregorian"), and in the Folk Music of most European countries, and notably that of the British Isles.
III. =King Daniel=, p. 14.
Cf. the old ballads "May Colvin" and "Young Hunting." In the latter the parrot reveals a murder. In both ballads the lady makes the same promises to the bird (see Child's _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_).
VII. =The Three Sisters=, p. 26.
Although the story of the monster outwitted by the maiden he tries to carry off is an almost world-wide _motif_, and is found in Africa among other countries, this particular version has evidently been in contact with European (English or Scottish) sources. This is shown not only by the fact that the suitor proves to be the Devil, but by the question and answer (misplaced by the story-teller):
"What is roguer than a womankind?" "The Devil is roguer than a womankind."
This riddle appears in three versions of the ballad of "The Three Sisters," otherwise "The Elfin Knight," or "Riddles wisely Expounded" (Child, _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, vol. i. pp. 1-6), as:
"O what is greener than the grass? Or what is worse than e'er woman was?"
"O poison's greener than the grass, And the Devil's worse than e'er woman was...."
"As soon as she the fiend did name, He flew away in a blazing flame,"
says one version, but in the rest there is no disenchantment, and the youngest sister wins the visitor as her husband by her ready wit in replying, which Professor Child (_Additions and Corrections_, vol. v. p. 283), thinks a modernization of the original story. He quotes a manuscript version taken from a book of Henry VI.'s time, wherein the "Elfin Knight" is the foul fiend himself _undisguised_.
For similar survivals of Riddle Songs and Tales see "There was a Lady in the West" and "Scarborough Fair" in _English County Songs_, and Kidson's _Traditional Tunes_, and "The Lover's Task" in _Songs of the West_, etc.
The tune is evidently an old ballad air. It is in the Aeolian Mode.
XVII. =Man Crow=, p. 54.
The tune is the same as that sung in Worcestershire by children to "A finger and thumb keep moving."
XVIII. =Saylan=, p. 59.
This is a version of "The Maid freed from the Gallows," "The Golden Ball," or "The Prickly Bush." For the latter see _English County Songs_. Child gives very exhaustive notes on the story and its variants; also a tune, noted in North Carolina, "The Prickly Bush" has a tune quite unlike Child's, and the Jamaican air is quite distinct from both.
XXI. =Tacoma and the Old Witch Girl=, p. 65.
Cf. "The Keys of Heaven" in _English County Songs_, "Blue Muslin" in _Songs of the West_, and "Madam I will gi'e you," etc., in _Journal of the Folk-Song Society_, No. 7. All these airs are distinct from each other, and from the Jamaican tune.
XXIX. =Parson Puss and Parson Dog=, p. 91.
This tune is the first half of the old French air "Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman?" used so often by English children in their games. See note in Moffat and Kidson's _Children's Songs and Games of Long Ago_, p. 42. Other adaptations of the same tune are CXVI. (p. 215), CLXXVII. (p. 264), and CLXXXIX. (p. 272).
XXXI. =Pretty Poll=, p. 96.
Cf. "King Daniel." This is again the story of "May Colvin" or "The Outlandish Knight." The tune "Come, pretty Poll" here given is rather reminiscent of one traditional air to the ballad sung still in different parts of England (where numerous tunes to the favourite story have been noted). See "The Outlandish Knight" in _Songs of Northern England_ (Stokoe and Reay) for the type of tune referred to, but plentiful variants from Hertfordshire, the West of England, Yorkshire, etc., exist in MS.
XXXVI. =Leah and Tiger=, p. 108.
The tune is in the Aeolian Mode.
LXIII. =Oh, Samuel, oh=, p. 168.
This tune is in the Mixolydian Mode.
LXXXVIII. =War down a Monkland=, p. 187.
The tune is in the Dorian Mode. By far the most interesting tune in this collection. It is a fine Dorian air, I should think an old traditional tune imported by English or Irish.
There are slight modal influences in other tunes, viz.: "Bad homan oh," "Bell oh," "A Somerset me barn," "Whe me loon de," "Me da li," and "Since Dora Logan a wahk with Gallawoss" (Nos. 56, 57, 85, 91, 100, 122).
CXI., p. 209.
This tune is a variant of the well-known children's game-song, "Here come three Dukes a-riding."
CXIX., p. 218.
The tune is a variant of one commonly sung in the North of England and in various parts of Scotland, to a children's game, "Hullaballoo ballie," in which reference is made to lifting the right foot and the left foot.
CXXVII., p. 225.
This air is the first part of the tune of "O dem Golden Slippers," the negro revival song of some twenty years ago.
CXXX., p. 227.
This is a reminiscence of the Scotch dance-tune usually sung to the words "There's nae luck aboot the hoose."
CLXXVIII., p. 264.
This is a well-known old English dance-tune, known also in Scotland.
CLXXXII., p. 267.
The second part of this tune is merely a reminiscence of "We won't go home till morning."
CLXXXVII., p. 271.
This tune is the first part of a very commonplace modern Italian popular composition called "La Mandolinata," played on every conceivable instrument, and sung also, about the year 1876 and for some years afterwards.
L.E. BROADWOOD.
End of Project Gutenberg's Jamaican Song and Story, by Walter Jekyll