Part 4
This collection challenges, I feel, the attention also of those interested in the songs of the churches. Urban congregational singing depends on hymnals. Hymnals are made by successions of revision committees. These committees have been either hostile to, or incognisant of, American folk-hymns. The perusal of almost any protestant hymn-and-tune book will prove this. Thus we have the strange anomaly: _groups whose prime purpose is to induce more general singing by the masses, refusing recognition, in their books of songs, to the melodism of those masses and putting in its place the tonal products of individuals_.
There are of late some exceptions to this attitude. In the _Christian Science Hymnal_, where one finds numerous folk-tunes from many other lands, there are two variants of melodies to be found in the present collection, that is, of 'Pilgrim' and 'Marion'. The editors found these tunes, however, not in America but in the British Isles.
The Methodists who were, as we have seen, originally largely responsible for the appearance of folk-tunes in the American religious environment, have for the past fifty years progressively eliminated them from their authorized hymnals. But their latest revised edition of 1935 indicates that this tendency has been checked. I find in that volume seven tunes which are identical with melodies in the present collection, namely, with 'Green Fields', 'New Britain', 'Beloved', 'Nettleton', 'Friends of Freedom', 'Plenary', and 'Romish Lady'. There are also five other tunes in the Hymnal called "early American melodies" which I have not been able to identify as folk-melodies.
In England the evangelical protestant hymnal makers seem now to be folk-minded. The English Methodists, at least, have welcomed into their latest _Hymn Book_ no less than 43 traditional folk-tunes of the British Isles. They have even used two tunes--'Rhode Island' and 'Pisgah'--the latter of which appears in the present collection, and have called them "American", even though one of them, 'Pisgah', came hither from England, as Miss Gilchrist has pointed out.
Then there are the folklorists. How will they greet this collection? My stressing of tunes and saying little about texts will be regarded by some of the old-line folklorists--especially those who still conceive all such material as "popular poetry"--with disapproval. Others, those who are sure that folk-song is dying out and therefore see the collector's duty simply as that of retrieving the last bits of it, may greet the present collection as a new acquisition to the museums. Such a response would arouse in me no enthusiasm and little satisfaction; for I demur completely from narrow interpretations of the status, meaning, import, and destiny of folk-lore, folk-songs, _these_ folk-songs. I do not participate in the pessimism of the folk-song fatalists.
The lore of a folk comprehends, as I understand it, the whole of its basic cultural accomplishments. Understood in this broadest and deepest sense, a folk-lore is truer, more vital and more significant than an art-lore. It is a clearer mirror of a people's past, a more reliable interpreter of its present trends, and a safer prophet of its culture to come. It is all this because it is the body and soul of that culture, where art is merely a vestment. The art which fits best this body and soul, this basic ethnic character, is the best art. The art of ancient Greece was great for this reason. All students of esthetics since Lessing and Winckelmann have recognized this. They have recognized also that the great periods in the art of any enduring people are those when its gifted creators are in closest harmony with the genius of their race; and that its barren periods are those when the masters have been faithless to their own and have sought afar "the good which lies so near."
_Acknowledgements_
I wish to express here my deep gratitude to Mr. Hilton Rufty for his generous help in verifying the musical aspects of this collection and in helping me solve many a knotty problem in interpreting the tunes which I have transcribed from the old singing-school books. Mr. John Powell has earned my sincere thanks for reading critically the entire manuscript, calling my attention to a number of inaccuracies, and to many secular melodies related to those in this volume.
The present collection would have been far less comprehensive without the use of a number of unique source books placed at my disposal by friends. I wish therefore to acknowledge gratefully the co-operation of Mr. Will H. Ruebush for providing me with _The Olive Leaf_ and _The Social Harp_; Mrs. Annabel Morris Buchanan for _The Union Harmony_ (Hendrickson); Mr. E. S. Lorenz for _The Revivalist_ and _Songs of Grace_; Mr. John Lair for the _Scots Musical Museum_; The Lawson McGhee Library (Knoxville, Tennessee) for _The Church Harmony_ and _The Supplement to the Kentucky Harmony_; Mr. W. E. Bird for _The Southern and Western Pocket Harmonist_; and Miss Lucille Wilkin for _The Western Harmony_. The University of North Carolina Press has kindly allowed me to reproduce several songs from _White Spirituals in the Southern Uplands_. For this I wish to express my sincere thanks.
I wish also to thank those who have furnished me with songs from oral tradition. Among such helpful contributors are Professor Donald Davidson, Mr. Don West, Mr. Samuel E. Asbury, Mr. Francis Arthur Robinson, and Miss Will Allen Dromgoole. My gratitude is hereby expressed also to Dr. Carleton Sprague Smith, Chief of the Music Division of the New York Public Library, and to Dr. Oliver Strunk, Chief of the Music Division of the Library of Congress for their helpfulness.
My daughter, Frances Helen Parker, and my sisters, Carol Jackson Ransom and Genevieve Jackson Beckwith, have given me invaluable help in preparing this book for the printer and in correcting the proofs. For this I am deeply and lastingly grateful to them.
George Pullen Jackson Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee, April 10, 1937
Fifty-one Religious Ballads
No. 1 ROMISH LADY, HH 257
Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III -- V VI --)
[Music]
There was a Romish lady, Brought up in popery, Her mother always taught her, The priest she must obey. "O pardon me, dear mother, I humbly pray thee now, But unto these false idols I can no longer bow."
Assisted by her handmaid, a bible she conceal'd, And there she gain'd instruction, till God his love reveal'd. No more she prostrates herself to pictures deck'd with gold; But soon she was betrayed and her bible from her stole.
"I'll bow to my dear Jesus, I'll worship God unseen, I'll live by faith forever, the works of men are vain. I cannot worship angels nor pictures made by men: Dear Mother, use your pleasure, but pardon if you can."
With grief and great vexation her mother straight did go T' inform the Roman clergy, the cause of all her wo. The priests were soon assembled, and for the maid did call, And forced her in the dungeon to fright her soul withal.
The more they strove to fright her, the more she did endure; Although her age was tender, her faith was strong and sure. The chains of gold so costly, they from this lady took, And she, with all her spirits, the pride of life forsook.
Before the pope they brought her, in hopes of her return, And there she was condem-ned in horrid flames to burn. Before the place of torment they brought her speedily; With lifted hands to heaven she then agreed to die.
There being many ladies assembled at the place, She raised her eyes to heaven and begged supplying grace: "Weep not, ye tender ladies, shed not a tear for me, While my poor body's burning, my soul the Lord shall see.
"Yourselves you need to pity, and Zion's deep decay; Dear ladies, turn to Jesus, no longer make delay." In comes her raving mother, her daughter to behold, And in her hand she brought her the pictures deck'd with gold.
"O take from me these idols, remove them from my sight; Restore to me my bible, wherein I take delight!-- Alas, my aged mother, why on my ruin bent? 'Twas you that did betray me, but I am innocent.
"Tormentors, use your pleasure, and do as you think best; I hope my blessed Jesus will take my soul to rest." Soon as these words were spoken, up steps the man of death, And kindled up the fire to stop her mortal breath.
Instead of golden bracelets, with chains they bound her fast; She cried, "My God give power, now must I die at last? With Jesus and his angels forever I shall dwell; God pardon priest and people, and so I bid farewell."
The text--undoubtedly of Inquisition times origin--indicates the age of the ballad. It is to be found in the _Roxburghe Ballads_, i., 43. It is mentioned in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Knight of the Burning Pestle" (1613). A parody on the opening words:
There was a moanish lady Lived in a moanish land; She had a moanish daughter Could moan at the Lord's command _etc._
is in Sandburg's _American Songbag_, p. 11. Another echo of this ballad text is:
The Romish Lady, she had babes,
in 'The Wife of Usher's Well', Sharp, i., 159. I recorded the tune in Dayton, Virginia; see _White Spirituals_, 202. _The Methodist Hymnal_ (1935, No. 436) has a variant of the tune which it calls a "traditional English carol".
No. 2 BEGGAR or TO BEGGING I WILL GO, SOC 212.
Heptatonic ionian, mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII)
[Music]
I'd rather live a beggar while here on earth I stay, Than to possess the riches of all America; And to begging I will go. And to begging I will go, will go, will go, And to begging I will go.
With thoughts of keen emotion our hearts are running o'er, While parting from the friends we love for China's distant shore, We're off for China's shore. We're off for China's shore, China's shore, We're off for China's shore.
We need your prayers, your sympathies more now than e'er before, For few the friends and hard the task on China's distant shore; We're off for China's shore. We're off _etc._
We'll heed our Master's call; He is with us ever more; Then farewell, dear friends, adieu, we're off for China's shore; We're off for China's shore. We're off _etc._
A close tune variant is 'Lost City', or 'To Glory I Will Go' in this collection. Tune and words are a parody of 'A-Begging We Will Go' which was widely popular in the latter part of the seventeenth century and traces of whose existence are found as early as 1611.
See Chappell's _Old English Popular Music_, ii., 42-43.
The first stanza of the song as it appeared in _Choyce Ayres_ etc., 1676, runs:
There was a jovial beggar, He had a wooden leg, Lame from his cradle and forced for to beg. And a begging we will go, we'll go, we'll go, And a begging we will go.
Other songs for which the early song became the prototype were 'A Bowling We Will Go', 'A Fishing We Will Go', 'A Hawking We Will Go' and 'A Hunting We Will Go.'
No. 3 REVEREND JAMES AXLEY'S SONG, OL 369
Hexatonic, mode 4 A (I II -- IV V VI 7)
[Music]
Tho' sinners would vex me, tho' troubles perplex me, Against inclination, O what shall I do? No longer a rover, my follies are over. But one thing is needful, and that I'll pursue.
Vain pleasure is deceitful, and sin is all hateful, But genuine pleasure in Jesus I find: This world is a bubble, a life full of trouble; My thoughts now fly upward, and leave all behind.
I hear the bells tolling; and wheels are now rolling; Some gallant, gay, fair one goes to her long home: If dead out of Jesus--the Lord will not save us, And to him in glory we never can come.
Oh! pray for conversion; shun foolish diversion; Adopt self-denial, and take up your cross: These do for a season, and use your own reason, And you will see clearly you suffer no loss.
Your time is a treasure (there's none in vain pleasure), Then look up to Jesus with faith's steadfast eye: Oh, haste to believe in the crucified Savior, For time flies apace, and eternity's nigh!
My soul starts with wonder, to think how God's thunder, Will shake all creation at Gabriel's call! When time is no longer, the aged and younger, Before the great Judge, in their trouble, will fall.
The Judgment decided, friends now are divided; And all the ungodly are turned into hell: But glory to Jesus! believing, He'll save us, With angels in glory his praises to swell.
_The Olive Leaf_ arranger spoiled the tune's apparent mixolydian purity by changing the _d_'s to _d_-sharps. As to title and source the editor says: "Reverend James Axley was one of the pioneer preachers of the Holston Conference, and a very holy, laborious, and successful minister. I learned this tune and song of Reverend Russell Reneau, who died in Arkansas during our late unhappy Civil War. Crude as the song is, I choose to preserve it in memory of Mr. Axley and Mr. Reneau." The tune is a variant of 'Christian Warfare', GOS 603. Further information as to the Reverend James Axley, whose period of activity in the methodist conferences of Tennessee, Kentucky and other states was during the first decades of the nineteenth century, may be found in Peter Cartwright's _Autobiography_, p. 62 and elsewhere.
No. 4 HICKS' FAREWELL, SOH 19
Pentatonic, mode 2 (I -- 3 IV V -- 7)
[Music]
The time is swiftly rolling on When I must faint and die; My body to the dust return And there forgotten lie.
William Walker claims the tune. See 'Farewell' in this collection for different melodies associated with this text. Cecil Sharp recorded five versions of the song as he heard them in the Appalachian Mountains in 1916 and 1918. See Sharp, ii., 142-143. The text (given more fully under 'Farewell') was written by the Reverend B. Hicks of South Carolina. See _White Spirituals_, 202ff.
No. 5 FREE SALVATION, _Wesleyan Psalmist_
Pentatonic, mode 3 (I II III -- V VI --)
[Music]
Man at his first creation in Eden God did place, The public head and father of all the human race; But by the subtle serpent beguil'd he was and fell, And by his disobedience was doom'd to death and hell.
While in this situation a promise there was made, The offspring of the woman should bruise the serpent's head, Against the power of Satan that man might only feel The malice of the serpent enraging at his heel.
Now at the time appointed Jesus unveiled his face, Assumed our human nature and suffered in our place; He suffered on Mount Calvary and ransomed all for me, The law demands attention, to pay the penalty.
They laid him in a sepulchre, it being near at hand, The grave could not now hold him, nor death's cold iron hand; He burst them all asunder and pulled their kingdoms down, He's overcome his enemies and wears a starry crown.
Miss Gilchrist finds this "reminiscent of the old Cornish 'When God at first had Adam made', and of the style of the Manx-Gaelic carvals." See JFSS, viii., 83.
No. 6 SAILOR'S HOME, SOH 182
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III -- V VI VII)
[Music]
When for eternal worlds we steer, And seas are calm and skies are clear; And faith in lively exercise, And distant hills of Canaan rise; The soul for joy then claps her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings, I'm going home, I'm going home; And loud her lovely sonnet sings, I'm going home.
With cheerful hope his eyes explore Each landmark on the distant shore; The trees of life, the pasture green, The crystal stream, delightful scene. Again for joy she plumes her wings, And loud her lovely sonnet sings: I'm almost home, I'm almost home! And loud her lovely sonnet sings: I'm almost home.
The nearer still she draws to land, More eager all her pow'rs expand; With steady helm and free bent sail, Her anchor drops within the vale. And now for joy she folds her wings And her celestial sonnet sings: I'm home at last, I'm home at last! And her celestial sonnet sings: I'm home at last!
She meets with those who're gone before, On heaven's high and genial shore Around the dear Redeemer's feet, -- -- -- -- -- -- -- And loud they shout: Our God and King! And ceaseless hallelujahs sing, We're safe at last! We're safe at last! And ceaseless hallelujahs sing, We're safe at last!
The song is attributed in the _Southern Harmony_ to Wm. M. Caudill and Wm. Walker. The tune bears some resemblance to 'Liverpool' in this collection. The song is found also in REV 396, entitled 'Sonnet'.
No. 7 LIVERPOOL or SOLEMN ADDRESS TO YOUNG PEOPLE, OSH 37
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III -- V VI VII)
[Music]
Young people all attention give, And hear what I shall say; I wish your souls with Christ to live In everlasting day.
Remember you are hastening on To death's dark gloomy shade; Your joys on earth will soon be gone, Your flesh in dust be laid.
Death's iron gate you must pass through, Ere long, my dear young friends; With whom then do you think to go, With saints or fiery fiends?
Pray meditate before too late, While in a gospel land; Behold! King Jesus at the gate Most lovingly doth stand.
Young men, how can you turn face From such a glorious friend; Will you pursue your dang'rous ways? O don't you fear the end?
Will you pursue that dang'rous road Which leads to death and hell? Will you refuse all peace with God, With devils for to dwell?
Young women too, what will you do, If out of Christ you die? From all God's people you must go, To weep, lament and cry.
Where you the least relief can't find, To mitigate your pain; Your good things all be left behind, Your souls in death remain.
Young people all, I pray then view The fountain open'd wide; The spring of life open'd for sin, Which flow'd from Jesus' side.
There you may drink in endless joy, And reign with Christ, your king, In his glad notes your souls employ, And hallelujahs sing.
The earliest appearance of the text is in _Mercer's Cluster_, a collection of rurally used hymns (not tunes) by Jesse Mercer, benefactor of Mercer University, who lived in Powellton, Georgia, in the 1820's. The editor of the _Sacred Harp_ attributes the tune to M. C. H. Davis, a southern rural. The song is found also UH 27, HH 83, HOC 113, WP 36, SOC 76, SOH I and CHH 58. The tune is a member of the 'Lord Lovel' family mentioned in the introduction, p. 14, and is closely related to 'Mermaid', Sharp, i., 291, and to 'The Broom of Cowdenknows', SMM No. 3, and its seventeenth-century country-dance form 'The Bonny Bonny Broome', Playford's _The English Dancing Master_, p. 74. For a list of other members of the 'Lord Lovel' tune family see 'Dulcimer' in this collection.
No. 8 LITTLE FAMILY, WS 195 ff.
Pentatonic, mode 1 (I II -- IV V VI --)
[Music]
There was a little fam'ly That liv'd in Bethany, Two sisters and a brother Compos'd that family.
With shouting and with singing Like angels in the sky, At morning and at evening They rais'd their voices high.
See _White Spirituals_ for the full text of seven stanzas about the raising of Lazarus. For references see JAFL, xxv., 17, and xxix., 182.
Almost the same tune is 'Johnny German', Sharp, ii., 256. 'Joe Bowers', Cox, 527, is also similar. Another spiritual ballad using this tune in variant form is 'Wedlock (A)', in this collection.
No. 9 MISS HATAWAY'S EXPERIENCE, HH 421
Heptatonic ionian, Mode 3 A + b (I II III IV V VI VII)
[Music]
Young women all, I pray draw near, Listen a while and you shall hear How sin and Satan both did try To land my soul in misery.
The full text is reproduced in _White Spirituals_, 186f. The tune is closely related to 'McAfee's Confession', Sharp, ii., 15 and 16. John Powell notes in connection with this song: "I have collected this tune often as 'Young People Who Delight in Sin' and it is always mixolydian." He then makes the suggestion: "Why not take out the _g_-sharp from the signature? In that case the modal indication would be heptatonic mixolydian, mode 3 a + b (I II III IV V VI 7)."
No. 10 DYING CALIFORNIAN, OSH 410
Hexatonic, mode 3 A (I II III -- V VI VII)
[Music]
Lay up nearer, brother, nearer, For my limbs are growing cold, And thy presence seemeth nearer, When thine arms around me fold.
I am dying, brother, dying; Soon you'll miss me in your berth, For my form will soon be lying 'Neath the ocean's briney deep.
I am going, surely going, But my hope in God is strong; I am willing, brother, knowing That he doth nothing wrong.
Tell my father, when you greet him, That in death I prayed for him, Prayed that I might only meet him In a world that's free from sin.
Tell my mother,--God assist her, Now that she is growing old,-- That her child would glad have kissed her When his lips grew pale and cold.
Listen, brother, catch each whisper, 'Tis my wife I'll speak of now; Tell, O tell her how I missed her, When the fever burned my brow.
Tell her she must kiss my children, Like the kiss I last impressed; Hold them as when last I held them, Folded closely to my breast.
Give them early to their maker, Putting all her trust in God; And he never will forsake her, For he's said so in his word.
Oh! my children, Heaven bless them, They were all my life to me; Would I could once more caress them Before I sink beneath the sea.
'Twas for them I crossed the ocean, What my hopes were I'd not tell, But they gained an orphan's portion,-- Yet he doth all things well.
Listen, brother, closely listen, Don't forget a single word, That in death my eyes did glisten With the tears her memory stored.
Tell them I never reached the haven, Where I sought the precious dust, But I've gained a port called heaven Where the gold will never rust.
Tell my sisters I remember Every kind and parting word, And my heart has been kept tender By the thoughts its memory stirred.
Urge them to secure an entrance, For they'll find a brother there. Faith in Jesus and repentance Will secure for them a share.
Hark! I hear my Savior speaking; 'Tis--I know his voice so well, When I'm gone, O don't be weeping, Brother, hear my last farewell.
The song seems to have been inspired by the fate of one of the "forty-niners." It made its first appearance in fasola circles in the 1859 edition of the _Sacred Harp_ where it is attributed to Ball and Drinkard. For references as to its origin see Hudson, _Folksongs of Mississippi_, 221.
No. 11 JOHN ADKINS' FAREWELL, SOC 200
Hexatonic, mode 3 b (I II III IV V VI --)
[Music]
Poor drunkards, poor drunkards, take warning by me, The fruits of transgression behold now I see; My soul is tormented, my body confin'd; My friends and my children left weeping behind.
Much intoxication my ruin has been, And my dear companion I've barbarously slain; In yonder cold graveyard her body doth lie, And I am confined and must shortly die.
A solemn death warning to drunkards I leave, While my poor body lies cold in the dark grave; Remember John Adkins, his death and reform, Lest justice o'ertakes you and sorrow comes on.
A whole life of sorrow can never atone, For that cruel murder that my hands have done; I am justly condemned, it's right that I should die, Therefore, let all drunkards take warning hereby.
Farewell, my dear children, wherever you be; Though quite young and tender and dear unto me; I leave you exposed in nature's wide field, In which God is able poor orphans to shield.
No mother to teach you, no mother to guide Your tender affections from sin's awful tide; No portion to shun you from hunger or cold, My poor little orphans are cast on the world.