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Showing posts with label 19th and early 20th century African American folk rhymes and folk songs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 19th and early 20th century African American folk rhymes and folk songs. Show all posts

Sunday, March 1, 2026

Lead Belly - "Dig A Hole Put The Devil In" (two YouTube sound files, comments, & lyrics) Complete Reprint

Leadbelly- topic,  Sep 4, 2018

Provided to YouTube by Universal Music Group

Gwine Dig a Hole to Put the Devil In -- The Library of Congress Recordings, V. 2

℗ 1991 Rounder Records Manufactured and distributed by Concord Music Group

Released on: 1991-01-01

Auto-generated by YouTube.

[comments are turned off] 

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Edited by Azizi Powell

This pancocojams post is a complete reprint of a 2013 pancocojams post and its discussion thread comments (as of March 1, 2026). That post is still available on this pancocojams blog. 

This pancocojams post showcases two sound files of Lead Belly singing "Gonna Dig A Hole Put The Devil In". 
Leadbelly's recording "Gwine Dig A Hole Put The Devil In" is a secular extension of that religious song.

Notice the different tempos of Lead Belly's two performances of this song.

This post presents information about Leadbelly and a transcription of the lyrics for that song are also included in this post along with a transcript of  an interview about that song and some other songs that Lead Belly gave to Alan and John Lomaz. Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/12/leadellys-comments-about-shoo-fly-other.html "Lead Belly's Comments About "Shoo Fly" & Other 19th Century & Early 20th Century Dances" for the complete transcription of that interview.

This post also includes a link to a Mudcat folk discussion thread that includes several transcription attempts for Lead Belly's version of "It's Tight Like That".

This content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, cultural, entertainment, and aesthetic purposes.

All copyrights remain with their owners.

Thanks to the unknown composer/s of this song. Thanks to Lead Belly for his musical legacy. Thanks to John and Alan Lomax and other collectors and early publishers of the songs that Lead Belly sang. Thanks to all those who are quoted in this pancocojams post and thanks to the publishers of these song files on YouTube.
-snip-
Click https://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2026/03/some-history-of-comments-about-song-dig.html for the related pancocojams post "Some History Of & Comments About The Song "Dig A Hole Put The Devil In" (from a Mudcat folk music discussion thread)."

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INFORMATION ABOUT LEADBELLY
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lead_Belly
"Huddie William Ledbetter ... January 1888[1][2] or 1889[3] – December 6, 1949),[1] better known by the stage name Lead Belly, was an American folk and blues singer notable for his strong vocals, virtuosity on the twelve-string guitar, and the folk standards he introduced, including his renditions of "In the Pines" (also known as "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" and “Black Girl”), "Pick a Bale of Cotton", "Goodnight, Irene", "Black Betty", "Midnight Special", "Cotton Fields", and "Boll Weevil".

 Ledbetter usually played a twelve-string guitar, but he also played the piano, mandolin, harmonica, violin, and windjammer (accordion).[4] In some recordings he also used clapping or stomping to accompany his singing.

Ledbetter's songs covered a wide range of genres, including gospel music, blues, and folk music, as well as a number of topics, including women, liquor, prison life, racism, cowboys, work, sailors, cattle herding, and dancing. He also wrote songs about people in the news, such as Franklin D. Roosevelt, Adolf Hitler, Jean Harlow, Jack Johnson, the Scottsboro Boys and Howard Hughes. Ledbetter was posthumously inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1988 and the Louisiana Music Hall of Fame in 2008.

Though many releases credit him as "Leadbelly", he wrote his stage name as "Lead Belly". This is the spelling on his tombstone[5][6] and is used by the Lead Belly Foundation.[7] He did not care for the "Lead Belly" stage name and always introduced himself by his given name, Huddie Ledbetter.[8]"...

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SHOWCASE SOUND FILE #2 - Gwine Dig a Hole to Put the Devil in It (Remastered)


LeadbeLLY -Topic, .Mar 13, 2015

Provided to YouTube by The Orchard Enterprises

Gwine Dig a Hole to Put the Devil in It · Leadbelly

Selected Sides 1934-1948 (Remastered)

℗ 2013 JSP Records

Released on: 2014-03-10

[comments are turned off] 

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SUMMARY OF AND TRANSCRIPTION OF AN INTERVIEW THAT LEAD BELLY HAD WITH EITHER ALAN LOMAX OR JOHN LOMAX  FROM TWO NO LONGER AVAILABLE ONLINE SOURCES 

Source #1 
This sound file was originally embedded in this 2013 pancocojams post . That  was published on Dec 10, 2011 by sherpa285. That sound file showcases Leadbelly singing two songs " Dig a Hole & Tight Like That" [No longer available on March 1, 2026 and earlier. sherpa285 published a comment (found below) 
the 2013 postabout this song.]

Here's that summary:
"From an old vinyl 3 LP set that I bought years ago in a used record store. I've never heard either of these versions elsewhere. I believe that this is from a session with either Alan or John Lomax. Both songs are amazing. If anyone know any of the words, please post. I've been trying to figure some of them out for years."

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Source #2
From http://anthrocivitas.net/forum/showthread.php?t=1737&page=3 "American Folk Songs Of Black Origin" [This discussion thread is no longer available on March 1, 2026 and earlier.]

Magneto, 12-15-2010, 03:55 PM Post #28

"In the following conversation, recorded by Library of Congress folklorist Alan Lomax in Washington in 1940, Huddie gives us some idea of all the dancing going on at a sukey jump, circa 1900. The conversation is being recorded onto discs which contain perhaps three or four minutes each, and are spinning around at 78 revolutions per minute. There is no time for long pauses or considered answers. While the interview sounds a bit like a word association game, it does gives an impression of what the dances were like...

Lomax: Huddie, did they have any real fast numbers at these dances? Do you remember any of those?

Ledbetter: They'd pick 'em up.

Lomax: When they'd do the hoedown and. . .

Ledbetter: They'd pick 'em up, you know, they'd have some fast ones when they'd just go, like, "Green Corn, Come Along Charlie," "Gonna Dig a Hole to Put the Devil In," and, "Tight Like That," sometimes they'd holler, say, "Tight like this!"
[They are both talking at once through here.]

Lomax: What did they mean by that Huddie, really? I mean, tell us confidentially what they mean by "tight like that."

[Lomax may have been fishing for some sexual innuendo, but Huddie wasnt playing along, perhaps realizing there was nothing confidential about this interview.]

Ledbetter: "Tight like that" means when you got your partner, grab and hug her tight, and keep her going, but when it comes time the boy grab his partner, he grab her and giving her a hug, he says, "Tight like this, it was tight like this, but now it's tight like this." And the boys'd be jumping on "Tight like that."

Lomax: What were some of the dance steps, Huddie, when they were playing some of these fast tunes?

Ledbetter: Well, ain't no dance steps you could do but "breakdown," and that's a fast number. You can't dance no tap dance, I don't think, a fast breakdown number, course you might, but that's where all the tap dances [Huddie is talking very fast, as though he's afraid of being interrupted] . . . all the tap dances come from the old "buck and wing" what they used to do. Well, the breakdown dance, nobody do 'em now, but I don't guess nobody know nothing about it very much, but me, and I do the breakdown. When you do it you got to do it real fast, and when you breakdown you ain't tapping, you just working your legs. Now, a long time ago my grandfather, great-grandfather, say, "you ain't dancing til you cross your legs." So I guess now, nobody dancing because they don't cross their legs hardly ever. But when you do that old breakdown, and wing down, and green corn and that old ground shovel and, uh . . .

Lomax: What about "knocking the pigeon wing?"

Ledbetter: . . . pigeon wing and . . .

Lomax: . . . cutting the back step?

Ledbetter: . . . cutting the short dog, well, you got to cross your legs.

Lomax: Huddie, play us one of those tunes, something like "Gonna Dig a Hole to Put the Devil In," and tell us what it means, too, you know.

Ledbetter: "Gonna Dig a Hole to Put the Devil In" - long years ago, that was when they see the boss coming, you know? And the boys would see the boss coming, well, they didn't like him, you know, but they'd be together, nothing but negroes all piled up there together. When they'd see him coming, they'd say, "Well, we're gonna dig a hole to put the devil in," boy they'd start a-jumping. [plays "Gonna dig a hole. . ." with very fast accompaniment on guitar.]"...
-snip-
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/12/leadellys-comments-about-shoo-fly-other.html for the full transcript Library of Congress transcript of that interview.

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LYRICS: GWINE DIG A HOLE PUT THE DEVIL IN
(as sung by Lead Belly in the 1940 interview with Alan Lomax) This recording occurs at 2:07- 3:37 of the [no longer available sound file that was originally given in this pancocojams post.)

[WARNING- This song includes words that can be considered cursing.]

"Yeeee! They go down a hollerin to one another.

Yeee hoo!

Gwine* dig a hole put the devil in
Gwine dig a hole put the devil in
Gwine dig a hole
Gwine dig a hole
Letta dig a hole**
Letta dig a hole**

Yee ha! They all clappin and shoutin. The devil comin now. He don't know what it's all about, but they do.

Gwine dig a hole
Gwine dig a hole
Let me dig a hole to put the devil in
Let me dig a hole
Let the devil in
Let the devil in

Then they start

Gimme little bit of dram***
Little bit of dram
Little bit of dram
Little bit of dram

When the boss is gone they startin

I don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
I don't give a damn.

Yee Hoo!

I dig a hole put the devil in
I dig a hole
I dig a hole
I dig a hole
I dig a hole and put the devil in

Wake Jake days a breakin
Peas in the pot
and the hoe cakes' bakin
Gwine dig a hole
Gwine dig a hole
I dig a hole
I dig a hole

I don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
Don't give a damn
I don't give a damn."
-snip-
Transcription by Azizi Powell. Additions and corrections are welcome.

*Gwin"e is a no longer used Southern regional (USA) dialectic word which means "gonna".

**This word sounds like "pole" but I think that Lead Belly meant "hole".

***dram - a portion of an alcoholic drink

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PANCOCOJAMS EDITOR COMMENTS ABOUT "DIG A HOLE PUT THE DEVIL IN" [revised on December 12, 2013]
In that 1940 recorded interview Lead Belly shared how "Gonna Dig A Hole Put The Devil In" was sung by "negroes" who saw their "boss" coming. ("Negroes" is no longer used as a referent for Black Americans and even before that referent was retired, many Black people and other people considered it offensive to spell that word with a small "n". Lead Belly said that this song was sung this way "a long time ago". I'm not sure if "the boss" here means the slave master or the person who was in charge of men who were working post-slavery.)

In my opinion, Lead Belly's recollection of how "Gonna Dig A Hole" was sung demonstrates how Black people masked their true feelings about their life situations in front of White people while they insulted them in coded form right in front of White people's faces. Combining the religious song "Dig A Hole Put The Devil In" with a familiar fiddler song "Give The Fiddler A Dram" masked the fact that the workers considered "the boss" to be "the devil". Notice that after the boss leaves, the song changes to the defiant verse "I don't give a damn". Also, notice how Lead Belly says that the boss didn't understand that the "dig a hole" song was sung as an insult. "They all clappin and shoutin. The devil comin now. He don't know what it's all about, but they do."

It's interesting that the White folklorist Alan Lomax doesn't appear to have caught the hidden purpose of those lyrics as sung by those men, and the defiant nature of their "don't give a damn" lines.

That said, it's important to clarify that, in contrast to some Black militants in the late 1960s and 1970s's use of "the devil" as a referent for a White person, it appears to me that in Lead Belly's recollections of that song, the boss was equated with the devil, not because of his race, but because of his role as a boss (or a owner of slaves).
-snip-
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/12/lead-bellys-and-several-other-versions.html for another pancocojams posts that includes this Lead Belly version of "Gonna Dig A Hole".

Click http://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=126852
for a Mudcat folk discussion thread that includes several transcription attempts for Lead Belly's version of "It's Tight Like That".

Also, click http://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=137600 "Origins: Dig a hole to put the devil in" for a Mudcat discussion thread that documents that the "dig a hole, put the devil in" line was known in England. That discussion thread includes other songs that contain that "dig a hole" line.

"Stomping the devil on his head" is a related saying that is closely associated with the Pentecostal denomination. People who are "shouting" (doing the holy dance) are said to be "stomping the devil in his head".

Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2012/06/its-tight-like-that-videos-lyrics-part.html for a pancocojams post on "It's Tight Like That" (Videos & Lyrics) Part I: Georgia Tom & Tampa Red (1928)

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DISCUSSION THREAD COMMENTS FROM THE 2013 PANCOCOJAMS POST
  1. Ms. Powell, thanks again for using my video upload to shed some light on the lyrics. I've been wondering about some of these lines for 15 years now! I heard Huddie Ledbetter for the first time when I was 23 and just out of the service. The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I listened to very little else for about a year.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your welcome. sherpa285.

      I was came upon these lyrics after learning about the saying "stomp on the devil's head" and then the saying "dig a hole put the devil in". I was thrilled to first find via "my friend" Google Search that Library of Congress transcript that Magneto had posted in 2010 on that amthrocivitas forum, and then the sound file that you had uploaded to YouTube in 2011. That sound file was a real gift. I was hoping to find one on YouTube but didn't think I would.

      I believe that much more attention should be given to Lead Belly's comments about the songs "Dig a Hole" with its "give the fiddler a dram/don't give a damn" lines. That recording should be studied and appreciated not just for aesthetic and entertainment reasons, but also because of what those songs sung the way Lead Belly shared reveals about African Americans in that place and time.

      Delete
  2. I'm not an expert, I'm no historian and please don't quote me on this..
    But as it was once explained to me, when the chain gang saw the boss coming the main verse would start. As he walked down the line, the lyrics would change. I'd heard the change as both "gimme a dream," and also "fiddler down." When the boss was totally out of earshot, the cadence went down the line as "don't give a damn," till it came all the way down and back to "gonna dig a hole."
    But that's the magic of folklore. No one knows the truth, but everyone loves a legend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for sharing that anecdotal story, General Ennui.

      I appreciate it and who knows, it could be true. But even if it isn't true, it points to the spirit of those (these?) times and situations, and how Black people had (have?) to act differently in front of those who have power over us.


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Monday, April 3, 2023

The African American Children's Game Song "Old Egg Bread" ("Did You Go To The Hen House?") Which Refers To Going To A Lynching (information & lyrics)


The78Prof, May 1, 2019

This not-so-typical Kyser disc got lost among the also-rans as the band rode high throughout 1942 with one major best-seller after another.  Among them were Who Wouldn't Love You, Jingle Jangle Jingle, Strip Polka, He Wears A Pair Of Silver Wings, and Praise The Lord And Pass The Ammunition.

78rpm Columbia 36615 - Egg-A-Bread (MacGimsey) by Kay Kyser & His Orchestra, vocals by Julie Conway & Sully Mason, recorded May 4, 1942 .
-snip-
The record label indicates that this song is performed as a "Fox Trot".

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Edited by Azizi Powell

This pancocojams post presents a definition of the term "egg bread" and presents information about and lyrics for the African American children's singing game "Old Egg Bread". That ring game* was collected in 1917 in the state of Georgia. Another name for that singing game is "Did You Go To The Hen House?"

*"ring game" = circle game 

This post also showcases a YouTube sound file of 1942 adaptation of that singing game by Kay Kyser's (White American) Jazz band. The lyrics for that adaptation-without the verse about going to a lynching and some other verses- are included in this pancocojams post. Those lyrics are attributed to (White American) Country Western singer Tex Ritter who recorded that song in 1948.

My Editorial note about this African American children's game song is also included in this post. That editorial note includes a YouTube song file of the very similar African American children's singing game "Did You Feed My Cow?" 

The content of this post is presented for historical and socio-cultural purposes.

All copyrights remain with their owners.

Thanks to the unknown composer of the game song "Old Egg Bread" and thanks to 
Loraine Darby who collected this singing game and several other singing games in 1917 from Black children in Southern Georgia (USA).

Thanks to all those who are featured in this YouTube sound file and thanks to all those who are quoted in this post. Thanks also to the publisher of this video on YouTube.

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WHAT IS "EGG BREAD"?
From https://recipesformen.com/eggy-bread/#:~:text=Eggy%20bread%2C%20otherwise%20known%20as,can%20be%20savoury%20or%20sweet. "What is Eggy Bread?
...."Eggy bread, otherwise known as French toast, is what it says it is – bread soaked in egg and toasted in a skillet or pan. There are several ways to eat this simple food, which can be savoury or sweet.”… 

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LYRICS FOR THE AFRICAN AMERICAN CHILDREN'S SONG "OLD EGG BREAD"
From https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/534340.pdf?refreqid=excelsior%3A13239d3004a560ee6cd2078fffa8650b&ab_segments=&origin=
Ring-Games from Georgia
Author(s): Loraine Darby
Source: The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 30, No. 116 (Apr. - Jun., 1917), pp. 218-221
Published by: American Folklore Society

"[page] 218 

I saw in Southern Georgia a number of ring games that I believe are peculiar to colored children of that region.

{...]

A game which is most amusing to watch is "Good Old Egg Bread".  The leader shouts one line, and the others answer with the next.

 The rhythm is very strong, and they stamp their feet most energetically as they circle.

 Did you go to the hen-house?
 Yes, ma'am!
 Did you get any eggs?
 Yes, ma'am!
 Did you put 'em in the bread?
 Yes, ma'am!
 Did you stir it 'roun'?
 Yes, ma'am!
 Did you bake it brown?
 Yes, ma'am!
 Did you hand it 'roun'?
 Yes, ma'am!


[page] 219

Good old egg-bread,
Shake 'em, shake 'em!
Good old egg-bread,
Shake 'em, shake 'em!

Did you go to the lynchin'?
Yes, ma'am!
Did they lynch that man?
Yes, ma'am!
Did the man cry?
Yes, ma'am!
How did he cry?
Baa, baa!
How did he cry?
Baa, baa!

Did you go to the wedding?
Yes, ma'am!
Did you get any wine?
Yes, ma'am!
Did you get any cake?
Yes, ma'am!
How did it taste?
So good!
How did it taste?
So good!

Good old egg-bread,
Shake 'em, shake 'em!
Good old egg-bread,
Shake 'em, shake 'em!

Bow, Mr. Blackbird, bow, Mr. Crow.
Bow, Mr. Blackbird, bow no mo'!"
-snip-
The collector of this singing game wrote that it was collected in "Southern Georgia". The lyrics and play instructions for several other African American singing games that were collected at that same time are included in that online excerpt. 

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LYRICS FOR WHITE AMERICAN ADAPTATIONS OF "OLD EGG BREAD"
From https://flowlez.com/en/songs/egg-a-bread-1789158/
"Egg-a-Bread
Album: Pecos Bill / Egg-A-Bread
Artist: Tex Ritter
Genres: Western, American Folk, Country, Spoken Word, Folk, Children's Music
Language: English
Year: 1948
Song lyrics Tex Ritter - Egg-a-Bread

Little girl little girl
Yes Sir
Did you go downtown?
Yes Sir
And did you look around
Yes Sir
Did you go on your legs, did you get some eggs?
Yes Sir, aha

Good old egg-a-bread, shake it shake it
Good old egg-a-bread, shake it down
Good old egg-a-bread, bake it bake it
Good old egg-a-bread, just bake it brown

Little girl little girl
Yes Sir
Did stay 'bout an hour
Yes Sir
And did you get some flour
Yes Sir
Did you put it in the bread and you show you did
Oh Yes Sir, aha
We'll have that

Good old egg-a-bread, shake it shake it
Good old egg-a-bread, shake it down
Good old egg-a-bread, bake it bake it
Good old egg-a-bread, just bake it brown

Little boy little boy
Yes Ma'am
Did you go downtown?
Yes Ma'am
Did you look around
Hm' hmm
Did you meet a little girl?
I sure did
Was her name called Curls?
Sure it was
Did you go for a walk?
Hm' hmm
Did you have a little talk?
Yes Ma'am
Did she get candy and fool her mammy?
Yes Ma'am don't tell
Yes Ma'am don't tell

Shake it bake it
Bake it brown
Make it bake it"

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PANCOCOJAMS EDITOR'S NOTES ABOUT THE AFRICAN AMERICAN CHILDREN'S SINGING GAME 'OLD EGG BREAD" 

The African American children's singing game "Old Egg Bread" (also known as "Did You Go To The Hen House?") has the same textual structure as the African American children's singing game "Did You Feed My Cow?". Both singing games probably have the same tune and tempo. Here's a sound file of Did You Feed My Cow" that is led by Ella Jenkins:



Ella Jenkins, May 21, 2015

**
Click https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GjXJ1Q_VpfY for another YouTube example of this song that is led by and popularized by (African American) folklorist/singer Ella Jenkins. 

**
The earliest documented example of "Old Egg Bread" appears to be from 1917 (Loraine Darby, "Ring-Games from Georgia", T
he Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 30, No. 116, 1917)

The earliest documented example of "Did You Feed My Cow" appears to be from 1922 (Thomas W. Talley, Negro Folk Rhymes: Wise And Otherwise)

**
I believe that one purpose of early 20th century African American children's singing games was to prepare those children for living in an oppressive world. For example, I believe that the African American children's song "Johnny Cuckoo" helped Black children develop and reinforce their self-esteem with the group's line "You look too black and dirty" and the soloist's reply "I'm just as good as you are".  Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2019/08/two-examples-of-african-american_5.html "Two Examples Of The African American Children's Singing Game "Johnny Cuckoo" (By Bessie Jones & By Joan Baez)".

Similarly, the verse in "Old Egg Bread" that refers to going to a lynching was purposely added to that singing game to harden African American children and reinforce the fact that (for them, in that time) lynching was a fact of life for Black people. Particularly in the American South, lynching was a danger that Black people must be alert to. In addition, I believe the inclusion of lyrics about lynching in that song was meant to teach those Black children that if lynching happened to someone they knew, they must work through their emotions and go on with life as best they could.


Notice that the song "Did You Feed My Cow?" includes a reference to the cow dying and buzzards coming to feed off of the dead cow. That's just one example of death being featured in African American children's songs. That said, death is also featured in a number of children's game songs that originated among White people.  
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Visitor comments are welcome.

Saturday, March 25, 2023

"Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every Little Soul Must Shine)" YouTube examples, information, & lyrics


Music Together, Feb 10, 2015

"Mr. Rabbit" is a trickster who doesn’t care if his ears are too long. He teaches everyone to love their differences---and to let their souls shine, shine, shine.
-snip-
This is one lesson this song teaches. Read the Information section in this pancocojams post.

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Edited by Azizi Powell

This pancocojams post showcase three YouTube examples of the African American originated  song "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (every little soul must shine)."

This post also includes some lyrics, information, and comments about this song. 

The content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, socio-cultural, and entertainment purposes. The showcase YouTube examples along with the information that is included in this post document a few versions of "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every little soul must shine.)"  A number of other versions of this song can be found online and offline. 

All copyrights remain with their owners.

Thanks to the unknown composer/s of this song. Thanks to all those who are featured in these YouTube examples, and thanks to all those who are quoted in this post. Hat tip to Kerri Lynn Nichols, Washington State music and 
movement teacher using the Orff approach, for requesting information about this song.

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SHOWCASE VIDEO #2 - 
Burl Ives - Mr Rabbit

jonjamg, Mar 23, 2013

Burl Ives sings a favourite Mr Rabbit

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SHOWCASE EXAMPLE #3- Caspar Babypants - Mister Rabbit


Caspar Babypants, Feb 26, 2015

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MY COMMENTS ABOUT THE SONG "MR. RABBIT MR. RABBIT"(EVERY LITTLE SOUL MUST SHINE)

Pancocojams Editor's Note:
I believe that "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every little soul must shine)" is an African American originated song. Notice the word "little" in that song's refrain. That word suggests to me that children were the main population that song was composed for.

I don't think that "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit" (Every little soul must shine)" is a children's singing game because there don't appear to be any references to a singing game for "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every little soul must shine)" in any books that include examples of African American children's games from the early 20th century or before then. Instead, I think that 
"Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit" (Every little soul must shine)" is a children's song like the African American song "Did You Feed My Cow" (Yes Ma'am)".

I believe that African American adults probably sung and danced to versions of "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit" (Every little soul must shine") in the late 19th and/or the early 20th century. Notice that the Entry in this pancocojams post that is given as Information #3 below refers to this song being sung during African American
"buck dancing". I don't know if it's accurate that that particular type of dancing was done to that song. However, I believe that some type of dance movements  could have been performed sometimes while that song was sung before it became more widely known as a result of White American Burl Ives's 1949 record.

**
Contrary to what I've read online, I don't believe that "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every little soul must shine)" is a Spiritual. Some online websites might have categorized that song as a Spiritual because some versions include the religious words "soul" and/or the words "Yes, bless God", "Yes, God", "Yes, my Lord". However, people then and now have used religious references in secular songs.   

**
The word "soul" in this song means "person" (or "spirit"). The refrain "Every little soul must shine" means something like "Every person must be the very best they can be". The more a person is their best (or is doing their  best), the more their soul shines.  

**
The words "Every little soul must shine" has the same meaning as the words "I'm going to let it shine" in the Spiritual "This Little Light Of Mine". 

**
Read comment #1 and comment #3 from Entry #2 (the Mudcat Discussion Thread) that are given below for comments about what I think the song "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit (Every Little Soul Must Shine" means.   

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INFORMATION ABOUT THIS SONG

These entries are given in no particular order and are numbered for referencing purposes only.

Entry #1
From https://www.stephengriffith.com/folksongindex/mister-rabbit/
"TITLE: Mister Rabbit

AUTHOR: unknown

CATEGORY: traditional, public domain

KEYWORDS: animal, questions, dialog

EARLIEST DATE: 1925 (Scarborough)

Mister Rabbit

In the time of enslavement, African-Americans developed a whole cycle of animal tales whose heroes symbolized for him his problems as enslaved. The principal figure in these tales was “Br’er Rabbit” born and bred in a briar-patch, who could always out-smart “Br’er Fox,” his white master—out-think or, at least, out-run him. Many of the secular dance songs of the enslaved concerned “Old Mr. Rabbit, whose ears was mighty long.” (Alan Lomax: Selected Writings, 1934-1997) “…

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Entry #2
From https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=72476
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Mr. Rabbit
From: MMario
Date: 26 Jun 02 - 02:23 PM

"Burl Ives used to sing this one. see one version at Mr. Rabbit

“Mister Rabbit”                                                      Game Song

Call:            “Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your ears are mighty long!”
Response:   “Yes, my Lord, they put on wrong.”   
Group:         Every little soul must shine, shine, shine
                     Every little soul must shine!

Call:            “Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, you’re in my cabbage patch!
Response:    “Yes, my Lord, I won’t come back”.
Group:        Every little soul must shine, shine, shine
                   Every little soul must shine!

Call:            “Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your tail’s mighty white.”
Response:    “Yes, my Lord, I’m goin’ out of sight.”
Group:        Every little soul must shine, shine, shine
                   Every little soul must shine!


Although “Mister Rabbit” is included in several older books on American folk songs, its African American origin is rarely noted.  The song is also rarely written in a call & response style.  Yet, I think that this style fits it best.  This story song is about a rabbit who is caught by in a farmer’s vegetable garden.  How does he explain what he is doing there?  How quickly can he think up responses to the farmer’s comments?  This song is one of several rabbit songs that used to be very well known among African American children.  However, few African American children in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (or I would imagine any other urban area) know this song now.  Most urban children may have never seen a rabbit besides the Easter bunny or in the petting zoo.  Few urban children know what a cabbage patch is.  We might be more familiar with the term “small vegetable garden”, but that doesn’t mean that we’ve ever seen one.  When a song’s references become outdated or foreign to a population, people are less likely to sing the song, and may eventually forget it all together.

But, on a deeper level, this song is still relevant.  I believe that “Mister Rabbit” may have been more than entertainment.  Or, to put it another way, the type of entertainment that enslaved Africans taught their children also helped them develop the survival skill of being mentally alert and knowing how to talk their way out of trouble.  Given the oppressive nature of slavery and post slavery societies, being able to talk your way out of trouble was sometimes a matter of life and death.  “Thinking fast on your feet” was certainly a survival skill that enslaved people needed and it is still needed today."
-snip-
Notice that that MMario's post mentions African American children in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I'm African American and African American children were the population that I collected rhymes and singing games from. Also, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania is the city where I still live.

I didn't join Mudcat discussion thread until 2004. However, I distinctly remember writing that explanation about "Mr. Rabbit Mr. Rabbit" which MMario quoted without any attribution. I published that song explanation (if not the lyrics) between January 2001 and 2004 in a post about this song that I wrote on my now deactivated cocojams website. I voluntarily cocojams.com deactivated October 2014 and don't have a copy of that post.

Furthermore, notice that I referred to that cocojams post in my August 18, 2004 Mudcat post given directly below.  

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2. Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Mr. Rabbit
From: GUEST,KentuckyPat
Date: 15 Oct 03 - 09:35 PM

"Here's some information on where the song, "Mister Rabbit" came from.

In the 1940s, Ruth Crawford Seeger worked on transcribing many American folk songs. "Mister Rabbit" made an appearance in her book "Animal Folk Songs for Children," but she credited it to earlier sources: Harvard University Press: "Mister Rabbit" (st.5); Library of Congress,Archive of American Folk Song (AAFS) 3044 B1, On the trail of Negro Folk Songs, Dorothy Scarborough, copyright 1925."

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3.  Subject: Lyr Add: RABBIT HASH
From: GUEST,Azizi
Date: 18 Aug 04 - 04:00 PM

"I've searched but can't find a 1970s or 1980s journal article about rabbit songs that I remember reading a couple of years ago. The article lamented the fact that so few African American children and adults know the words and movements to the rabbit songs that are a part of our heritage. This lamentation can be expanded to include non-African Americans.

The first example of "Every Little Soul Must Shine" is from my Cocojams website and I stand by the comments that I made two years ago"....

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Entry #3
From https://terrys-songs.net/mister-rabbit
"Mister Rabbit
Posted on 2013-03-10

Mister Rabbit is an African-American buck dance tune from the American South. It was published in the Lomax's "Best Loved American Folk Songs (Folk Song USA)" with this musical arrngement by Ruth Crawford Seeger. The best known recording is, of course, by Burl Ives. I've included some verses from other sources. The banjo arrangement is mine and is a mishmask of old time three finger styles.

Lyrics

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, you’re in my cabbage patch!
Yes, bless God, I won’t come back
Every little soul must shine and shine
Every little soul must shine and shine

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your ears mighty long.
Yes, bless God, been put on wrong.

Every . . .

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, You're looking mighty thin
Yes, bless God, been a-cuttin' through the wind

Every . . .

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your coat's mighty grey.
Yes, bless God, it’s made that way.

Every . . .

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your eyes are mighty red
Yes, bless God, I’m almost dead

Every . . .

Mister Rabbit, Mister Rabbit, your tail's mighty white.
Yes, bless God, been gittin' outa sight.

Every . . ."
-snip-
Here's some information about the African American originated non- religious (secular) "buck dancing" from https://www.ncpedia.org/buck-dancing
"Buck dancing is a folk dance that originated among African Americans during the era of slavery. It was largely associated with the North Carolina Piedmont and, later, with the blues. The original buck dance, or "buck and wing," referred to a specific step performed by solo dancers, usually men; today the term encompasses a broad variety of improvisational dance steps."....

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Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Some 19th & Early 20th Century African American Social Dances Mentioned In Thomas W. Talley's 1922 Book" Negro Folk Rhymes"

Edited by Azizi Powell

This pancocojams series provides information about some 19th century and early 20th century African American social dances that are mentioned in two examples from Thomas W. Talley's 1922 book Negro Folk Rhymes: Wise And Otherwise. The lyrics for those examples are included in this post along with excerpts from the Study portion of that book.

This pancocojams post also includes quotes about those social dances from several other sources. 

The content of this post is presented for historical, cultural, and educational purposes.

All copyrights remain with their owners.

Thanks to Thomas W. Talley for his cultural legacy. Thanks to the unknown composers of these dance songs and thanks to all those who are quoted in this post.

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PANCOCOJAMS EDITOR'S NOTE ABOUT THESE EXAMPLES 
These selected examples are presented "as is" in whole according to their page/s in the Project Gutenberg Ebook edition of that "Negro Folk Rhyme" collection, with the exception of asterisks between each example and with the exception of the spelling for the referent that is commonly called "the n word"

I use  amended spelling for the referent that is commonly called "the n word". (The spelling that I've used is "Ni&&er".).

In Thomas W. Talley's 1922 book Negro Folk Rhymes, "the n word" was used as a largely non-offensive group referent for Black people. However, in most of the 20th century and in the 21st century "the n word" is usually considered to be a highly derogatory referent whose use is very much discouraged. 

Also, "Negro" is no longer used as a referent for Black Americans (African Americans).   


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TWO INSTRUCTION DANCE SONGS EXAMPLES AND EXCERPTS FROM "NEGRO FOLK RHYMES"
From https://www.gutenberg.org/files/27195/27195-h/27195-h.htm by Thomas W. Talley [originally published 1922]

Dance Rhyme Section

[Pg 1]

JONAH'S BAND PARTY

Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
"Han's up sixteen! Circle to de right!
We's gwine to git big eatin's here to-night."
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
"Raise yo' right foot, kick it up high,
Knock dat [1]Mobile Buck in de eye."
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
"Stan' up, flat foot, [1]Jump dem Bars!
[1]Karo back'ards lak a train o' kyars."
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!
"Dance 'round, Mistiss, show 'em de p'int;
Dat Ni&&er don't know how to [1] Coonjaint."

[1] These are dance steps. For explanation read the Study in Negro Folk Rhymes.

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[Pg 9]

JUBA

Juba dis, an' Juba dat,
Juba [6]skin dat Yaller Cat. Juba! Juba!
Juba jump an' Juba sing.
Juba, [6]cut dat Pigeon's Wing. Juba! Juba!
Juba, kick off Juba's shoe.
Juba, dance dat [6]Jubal Jew. Juba! Juba!
Juba, whirl dat foot about.
Juba, blow dat candle out. Juba! Juba!
Juba circle, [6]Raise de Latch.
Juba do dat [6]Long Dog Scratch. Juba! Juba!
[5] This peculiar kind of dance rhyme is explained in the Study in Negro Folk Rhymes.

[6] The expressions marked [6] are various kinds of dance steps.

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EXCERPTS FROM THE "STUDY" SECTION OF THOMAS W. TALLEY'S NEGRO FOLK RHYMES

 [Pg 259]

"Early in my discussion the reader will recall that I explained in considerable detail how the Dance Rhyme words were used in the dance. I am now ready to announce that the Dance Rhyme was derived from the dance, and to explain how the Dance Rhyme became an evolved product of the dance.

I witnessed in my early childhood the making of a few Dance Rhymes. I have forgotten the words of most of those whose individual making I witnessed but the "Jonah's Band Party" found in our collection is one whose making I distinctly recall. I shall tell in some detail of its origin because it serves in a measure to illustrate how the Dance Rhymes probably had their beginnings. First of all be it known that there was a "step" in dancing, originated[Pg 259] by some Negro somewhere, called "Jonah's Band" step. There is no need that I should try to describe that step which, though of the plain dance type, was accompanied from the beginning to the end by indescribable "frills" of foot motion. I can't describe it, but if one will take a stick and cause it to tap so as to knock the words: "Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's band," while he repeats the words in the time of 2/4 music measure, the taps will reproduce the tattoo beaten upon the ground by the feet of the dancers, when they danced the "Jonah's Band" step. The dancers formed a circle placing two or more of their skilled dancers in the middle of it. Now when I first witnessed this dance, there were no words said at all. There was simply patting with the hands and dancing, making a tattoo which might be well represented by the words supplied later on in its existence. Later, I witnessed the same dance, where the patting and dancing were as usual, but one man, apparently the leader, was simply crying out the words, "Setch a kickin' up san'!" and the crowd answered with the words, "Jonah's Band!"—the words all being repeated in rhythmic harmony with the patting and dancing. Thus was born the line, "Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Band!" In some places it was the

[Pg 260]

custom to call on the dancers to join with those of the circle, at intervals in the midst of the dance, in dancing other steps than the Jonah's Band step. Some dance leaders, for example, simply called in plain prose—"Dance the Mobile Buck," others calling for another step would rhyme their call. Thus arose the last lines to each stanza, such as—

"Raise yĹŤ' right foot, kick it up high!

Knock dat 'Mobile Buck' in de eye!"

This is the genesis of the "Jonah's Band Party," found in our collection. The complete rhyme becomes a fine description of an old-time Negro party. It is probable that much Dance Rhyme making originated in this or a similar way.

Let us assume that Negro customs in Slavery days were what they were in my childhood days, then it would come about that such an ocasional Rhyme making in a crowd would naturally stimulate individual Rhyme makers, and from these individuals would naturally grow up "crops" of Dance Rhymes. Of course I cannot absolutely know, but I think when I witnessed the making of the "Jonah's Band Party," that I witnessed the stimulus which had produced the Dance Rhyme through the decades of preceding years. I realize, however, that this does

[Pg 261]

not account for the finished Rhyme products. It simply gives one source of origin. How the Rhyme grew to its complex structure will be discussed later, because that discussion belongs not to the Dance Rhyme alone, but to all the Rhymes.

There was a final phase of development of "Jonah's Band Party" witnessed by the writer; namely, the singing of the lines, "Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Band!" The last lines of the stanzas, the lines calling for another step on the part of both the circle and the dancers, were never sung to my knowledge. The little tune to the first lines consisted of only four notes, and is inserted below.

Jonah's Band Musical Notation

[…]

I give this as of interest because it marks a partial transition from a Dance Rhyme to a Dance Rhyme Song. In days of long ago I occasionally saw a Dance Rhyme Song "patted and danced" instead of sung or played and danced. This coupled with the transition stage of the "Jonah's Band Dance"

[Pg 262]

just given has caused me to believe that Dance Rhyme Songs were probably evolved from Dance Rhymes pure and simple, through individuals putting melodies to these Dance Rhymes.

[...]

[296]

…Let us glance at the Dance Rhyme "Juba" with its Supplement, "Juba! Juba!" to illustrate this special use of the Supplement. "Juba" itself was a kind of dance step. Now let us imagine two dancers in a circle of men to be dancing while the following lines are being patted and repeated:

[Pg 297]

"Juba Circle, raise de latch,

Juba dance dat Long Dog Scratch, Juba! Juba!"

While this was being patted and repeated, the dancers within the circle described a circle with raised foot and ended doing a dance step called "Dog Scratch." Then when the Supplement "Juba! Juba!" was said the whole circle of men joined in the dance step "Juba" for a few moments. Then the next stanza would be repeated and patted with the same general order of procedure.

The Supplement, then, in the Dance Rhyme was used as the signal for all to join in the dance for a while at intervals after they had witnessed the finished foot movements of their most skilled dancers."
-snip-
This is the end of these excerpts.

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ADDITIONAL QUOTES ABOUT SOME OF THE DANCES MENTIONED IN THESE RHYMES
Excerpt #1
From Jazz Dance: The Story Of American Vernacular Dances by Marshall Stearns & Jean Stearns (published 1971)
From Google Books: https://books.google.com/books?isbn=0306805537; Chapter Title: The Tin Pan Alley And Song Lyrics

"Page 99
....The Karo and Jump Dem Bars seem to have disappeared without a trace, although the latter is self-explanatory, and a flat-footed bar-jump is typically Afro-American. Old-timers say that the Mobile Buck is an ancestor of the common Buck, which evolved into the Time Step, while the prolific Coonjaint-once a rhythmic shuffle performed by roustabouts loading riverboats and a dance observed in Congo Square-later became identified with the tune of a children’s play-party song (“I love coffee, I love tea...).

In its early folk form the dance song with instructions is a group dance performed in a circle with a few “experts” in the center-and the emphasis is on what they do. An apparently unlimited number of locally known steps are inserted and improvised upon by the experts. The entire performance is held together by the chorus of dancers forming the circle and executing the steps that gives the dance its title. The description of inserted dances is brief if it occurs at all (in the Juba, the inserted steps are merely named) and little editorializing as to its purported origin, nature, or popularity-gimmicks that became common later, when the dances were commercialized."...

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From http://www.bluegrassmessengers.com/i-dance-rhyme-section.aspx Dance Rhyme Section [of Thomas W. Talley's Negro Folk Rhymes]
"["Coonjaint," (a derivative of coonjine) "Mobile Buck," "Karo (Cairo) and "Jump Dem Bars" are African- American dance steps. Talley gives more info on the dance. in the second section: Study in Negro Folk Rhymes".] 

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Excerpt #2
From T
raditional Music in Coastal Louisiana: The 1934 Lomax Recordings Joshua Clegg Caffery (Google Book, pp. 247-249)
"The word coonjine, as it is employed here, as it was apparently most commonly understood in nineteenth- century America, refers to the particular body movements enacted by black workers while unloading or loading freight (Hardie 2004, 115-16). While the word was associated with these movements, it could also apply to any songs or dances performed by these laborers while going about their work. More broadly, the word came to be associated with any riparian African American song and dance style.

The roots of the word coonjine extend well beyond this meaning, and some have noted that it likely relates to the term counjaille, a dance popular in Creole communities in French Louisiana and the West Indies (Knowles 2002, 63-64). In the seminal Slave Songs Of The South, for instance, mention is made of a counjaille being performed in St. Charles Parish (a “sort of minuet”), suggesting that the counjaille in question may have been part of the complex of quadrille/contredanse sets found disseminated throughout Creole culture (Allen et al, 1867, 137)....
-snip-
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2017/03/information-about-19th-century-black.html for the 2017 pancocojams post entitled "Information About The 19th Century Black American "Coonjine" Dance & An Example Of The New Orleans Black Creole Song "Criole Candjo".

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Excerpt #3
From 
http://www.streetswing.com/histmain/z3buckw1.htm
..."Buck dancing is a pre-tap dance routine and was done by Minstrel and Vaudeville performers in the mid nineteenth century portraying the African-American males, known as "Bucks." Originally the Pigeon Wing steps (foot shaking in the air) were a big part of this early folk dance but later separated when variations began such as the shooting out of one leg making a "Wing."

The term "buck" is traced to the West Indies where Africans used the words po' bockorau (Buccaneer), and later the French term Buccaneer. Ship captains would have the men dance on the ships (dancing the Slaves) to try to keep the morale up as well as a form of exercise. It was one of the dances that became popular with the Irish Buccaneers who did Jigs and Clogs, reels etc. who would be known as Buck Dancers. These terms would eventually become dance steps.

[...]

The Buck and Wing was adapted to the Minstrel stage from the recreational clogs and shuffles of the African-American. The Buck and Wing is said to be a bastard dance, made up of Clogs, Jigs, Reels, Sand dance etc. which later gave birth to the "Time Step" and "Soft Shoe." The Breakdown is also related to the Buck dance. The Buck and Wing can and was used in Reels, Clog dance, Can-Can (Pigeon Wing,) Jigs and Tap dance. The modern Buck and a Wing is characterized by wing-like steps done in the air (known as "wings") done mostly on the balls of the foot and which is considered the forerunner of rhythm tap"...
-snip-
This description of "Buck" dancing is different than the description for "bucking" that is performed by contemporary Hip Hop majorette dancers such as those who are featured on the Bring It! television series. This description of "Buck dancing may also be different than the "bucking" that is performed by Mardi Gras (New Orleans, Louisiana) second liners. 

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Excerpt #4
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanding_(dance)
"Sanding, also known as sand jigging or sand dancing, is a type of dance performed as a series of slides and shuffles on a sand-strewn floor. In some instances, the sand is spread across an entire stage. In other cases, it is kept in a box that the dancer stays in throughout the dance. Originally a soft-shoe technique, scratching in sand can also add a different texture to the percussion of tap. There is no one type of shoe used to sand dance; traditional tap shoes are used alongside soft shoes and leather boots, all creating a distinctive sound. Willie "The Lion" Smith said of sanding, "You could really hear and feel the rhythm when the dancers shuffled around in a nice pair of patent-leather shoes".[1]

The early history of sand dancing is obscure but it seems to have developed as a variant of what in the 19th century was known as "jig dancing" or, more precisely, "straight jig" dancing (to distinguish it from Irish and Scottish dances in 6/8 time). As with other forms of variety theatre and minstrel show dancing, straight and sand jig technique developed as white dancers familiar with Irish or British jigs, reels and hornpipes tried to emulate the steps of African-American dancers whose style had pronounced African roots.[2]

The most prominent stage sand dancers of the mid- to late-19th century were two white New Yorkers: Kitty O'Neil and her rival Kitty Sharpe.[3] Sharpe learned the dance from the Hawley Brothers, a blackface minstrel dance team, but her performances, like those of Kitty O'Neil, were not done in blackface. White male sand dancers in minstrelsy, variety or vaudeville did, however, frequently don blackface. This practice was recreated in the 1951 film Yes Sir, Mr. Bones, in which the veteran minstrel Ned Haverly (of Haverly's United Mastodon Minstrels) performed a sand dance as a grotesque caricature of an African American.[4]

Early straight jig dancers would scatter sand on wooden floors for traction, as was done at a famous 1862 competition between Dick Carroll and Tommy Peel.[5] Carroll, Peel and their jigging and clogging contemporaries were percussive dancers but their use of sand made possible the addition of the sliding and shuffling steps of true sand dancing.

The music played for 19th-century variety theater sand dancers was in 2/2 time in schottische tempo, but with a great deal of syncopation.[6] Sand dancers kept their upper body still. As Kitty Sharpe told a journalist: "With that kind of dancing the more immobile you are from your hips up the better you are. I could dance with a glass of water on my head, and have, many times."[7] A 1942 New York Post article noted that African-American tap star John Bubbles' sand dancing was "a sort of rhythmic, swishing shuffle" and that "practically all the action is from the ankles down, with the dancer's feet never leaving the ground."[8] Sand dancers didn't cover a lot of ground. A writer in the New York Sun in 1917 recalled that decades earlier Kitty O'Neil "...used to step from the wings of Pastor’s Theatre attired in tights and shake a paper bag full of white sand on the stage. She confined her efforts within the limited sand zone, which covered but a few feet."[9] John Bubbles used only about a two-foot square area for his routine.[10] In recent decades, sand dancers have often confined the sand to a wooden box in order to avoid abrading the actual stage."...
-snip-
My guess is that the line "Setch a kickin' up san'! Jonah's Ban'!" in the rhyme (song) "Jonah's Band Party" [given above] either specifically refers to "sanding" (as mentioned in this Wikipedia quote) or refers in general to enthusiastic social dancing. 

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Tuesday, February 22, 2022

2019 Article Excerpt About Black Musicians And United States "Old Time", "String Band" Music

Edited by Azizi Powell

This pancocojams post presents an excerpt of a 2019 New Yorker article by John Jeremiah Sullivan entitled "Rhiannon Giddens and What Folk Music Means".

The content of this post is presented for historical, socio-cultural, and educational purposes.

All copyrights remain with their owners.

Thanks to John Jeremiah Sullivan for writing this article and thanks to all of the musicians who are featured in this article.

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ARTICLE EXCERPT 
from https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/05/20/rhiannon-giddens-and-what-folk-music-means
"Rhiannon Giddens and What Folk Music Means" by  John Jeremiah Sullivan *,  May 20, 2019 

The roots musician is inspired by the evolving legacy of the black string band.

"To grasp the significance of what the twenty-first-century folksinger Rhiannon Giddens has been attempting, it is necessary to know about another North Carolina musician, Frank Johnson, who was born almost two hundred years before she was. He was the most important African-American musician of the nineteenth century, but he has been almost entirely forgotten. Never mind a Wikipedia page—he does not even earn a footnote in sourcebooks on early black music. And yet, after excavating the records of his career—from old newspapers, diaries, travelogues, memoirs, letters—and after reckoning with the scope of his influence, one struggles to come up with a plausible rival.

There are several possible reasons for Johnson’s astonishing obscurity. One may be that, on the few occasions when late-twentieth-century scholars mentioned him, he was almost always misidentified as a white man, despite the fact that he had dark-brown skin and was born enslaved. It may have been impossible, and forgivably so, for academics to believe that a black man could have achieved the level of fame and success in the antebellum slave-holding South that Johnson had. There was also a doppelgänger for scholars to contend with: in the North, there lived, around the same time, a musician named Francis Johnson, often called Frank, who is remembered as the first black musician to have his original compositions published. Some historians, encountering mentions of the Southern Frank, undoubtedly assumed that they were merely catching the Northern one on some unrecorded tour and turned away.

There is also the racial history of the port city of Wilmington, North Carolina, where Johnson enjoyed his greatest fame. In 1898, a racial massacre in Wilmington, and a subsequent exodus of its black citizens, not only knocked loose the foundations of a rising black middle class but also came close to obliterating the deep cultural memory of what had been among the most important black towns in the country for more than a century. The people who might have remembered Johnson best, not just as a musician but as a man, were themselves violently unremembered.

A final explanation for Johnson’s absence from the historical record may be the most significant. It involves not his reputation but that of the music he played, with which he became literally synonymous—more than one generation of Southerners would refer to popular dance music simply as “old Frank Johnson music.” And yet, in the course of the twentieth century, the cluster of styles in which Johnson specialized––namely, string band, square dance, hoedown––came to be associated with the folk music of the white South and even, by a bizarre warping of American cultural memory, with white racial purity. In the nineteen-twenties, the auto magnate Henry Ford started proselytizing (successfully) for a square-dancing revival precisely because the music that accompanied it was not black. Had he known the deeper history of square dancing, he might have fainted.

As a travelling “Negro fiddler,” Johnson epitomized the one musical figure in American history who can truly be called “ur.” Black fiddlers are the trilobites of American musical history. A legal record from the mid-seventeenth century details a dispute between Virginia households competing for the services of an enslaved man who had played the fiddle all night for a party on the Eastern Shore. After that, for more than two hundred years, black fiddlers are everywhere in the written sources. Then, around the start of the twentieth century, they fade, abruptly and almost completely.

Johnson was born in the late eighteenth century, most likely on a plantation owned by a family named Hawkins, in North Carolina, near the Virginia border. Early on, he was recognized as a prodigy who could master almost any instrument, but his specialty was the fiddle—the instrument most desired for dances. His owners started hiring him out for parties and dividing the earnings with him, a common practice. Sometime in the eighteen-thirties or forties, he became free. The only attempt at a biographical treatment of him, an article written around 1900 by the Virginia newspaperman Frank S. Woodson, says that he bought his own freedom “on a credit,” using money that he had made playing music. He then, according to Woodson, purchased the freedom of his wife, a seamstress named Amelia. His former master “threw in the five or six children, all boys, for good measure.” The boys became his band. Johnson and his wife tended to produce talented sons.

What did they sound like? It is a profound frustration, for a person interested in early African-American music, not to be able to hear them. Johnson died ten years before the recording era began, and by then his influence had grown diffuse. But a defining quality of his band’s sound is how much mixing it involved—how many styles and instrumental arrangements. There were brass instruments and wind instruments. Johnson’s sons played horns of all kinds. Frank, Jr., played a snare drum. There was a bass drum. Cymbals. In 1853, a kettledrum was introduced. But there were also the instruments we associate more closely with a “minstrel” band—fiddles and banjos. A fife-and-drum sound is mentioned in a Wilmington Daily Journal article published in 1858. Johnson’s band played everything at once, moving across a range of stylistic attacks, all geared for dancing. It seems impossible that its sound would not have approached, at times, proto-jazz.

It is a genuine challenge to describe how prevalent Johnson was, how dominant. According to one source, he had “for half a century ruled with absolute autocracy the aristocratic ball-rooms of the South.” By any calculus, he was one of the first black celebrities in the South. I have never come across an ostensibly “lost” figure who, once you know to look for him, turns out to have left behind such an obvious trail. Johnson went from being hard to find to being impossible to escape. Researching him was like writing a history of baseball and “rediscovering” a hitter named Babe Ruth. His music was so woven into the social life of the South that it would not be an exaggeration to describe it as a kind of ever-present soundtrack. Plantation balls, picnics, barbecues, sporting events, Renaissance-style “tilting” tournaments (they were big for a while), random town ceremonies (think cornerstone-layings), university commencements (for many years, he performed at Chapel Hill, and for at least some years at Wake Forest), state fairs, agricultural fairs, firemen’s balls, military “muster days,” moonlight excursions on trains and boats, extended summer bookings at resort hotels, society weddings, holiday parties (including an annual Christmas party in Wilmington, where his band performed for mixed audiences, “thereby creating a warmer fellowship between the races,” according to the Wilmington Star), funeral processions, and political rallies. In 1840, “when the new Capitol building was completed in Raleigh,” according to an item in an 1873 issue of the Hillsboro Recorder, there were “two successive nights” of dancing, with “the well-known Frank Johnson . . . furnishing the music.” During the Civil War, his band often marched at the head of regiments and was called in to play at recruitment parties. According to a story recounted by Woodson, Johnson accompanied a Confederate brigade into battle, but turned around when the shooting started.

Johnson fell on hard times after the war, and, in the end, according to a 1901 piece written by someone with the initials A.M.W., he “moved about a pathetic figure—a sort of melancholy reminder of departed joys.” His death, in 1871, was reported all over—in Cincinnati, in Chicago. One newspaper in Wilmington described the turnout for his funeral as “the largest, we think, that has ever occurred in this city, it being estimated that there were at least two thousand persons in the procession, including the colored fire companies in uniform, with standards draped in mourning, the colored Masonic fraternity in regalia, etc., the whole preceded by a brass band.” Pine Forest Cemetery, where he was buried, is down the street from my house; I’ve spent countless days looking in vain for his grave.

Johnson’s flame never quite flickered out. Other fiddlers followed in his nimble footsteps. Some of them had played with him; all of them had heard his band. Pomp Long, a fiddler whose owner, according to the Richmond Leader, had “placed him under Frank Johnson when he recognized his natural talent,” was briefly considered a rival to Johnson in ability. Then came Cripple Dick Foster, Uncle Baldy, Dick Jumper, Blind Lige, Emp Wright—each with his moment on the mountain.

Wright, who seems to have been active in the years just before 1900, was one of the last pure products of the Frank Johnson school. He knew how to make fiddles. There is some confusion over whether he was black or white. He supposedly lived for a time in a “mulatto community” called Little Texas, near Greensboro, North Carolina.  One of the few things we know about him is that he mentored, and passed his internal songbook on to, a man named John Arch Thompson, who lived in various rural pockets of the Piedmont: Cedar Grove and Cheeks (both in Orange County) and, finally, in Mebane (pronounced “meh-bun”), north of Greensboro.

Thompson had a son named Joe, and Thompson’s brother had a son, Odell. The first cousins played the fiddle and the banjo, respectively, for small house parties. A folklorist named Kip Lornell got turned on to them in the nineteen-seventies, and other researchers published interviews with them and recorded them playing. The Thompson cousins performed at some folk festivals. Then Odell died, and only Joe was left. He was the last of the old line, the rag end of whatever Johnson started. Or he would have been. Something happened fourteen years ago, in Boone, North Carolina, to change the story.

In 2005, a festival called the Black Banjo Then & Now Gathering took place at Appalachian State University, in Boone. Joe Thompson was an honored guest and a featured performer. Many of the attendees had come expressly to see him. Among the scholars and the players and the scholar-players were three passionate young revivalists, black musicians who had been getting lost in the old stuff. Two of them were multi-instrumentalists: Justin Robinson, from the mill town of Gastonia, North Carolina, had studied the violin since childhood, and Dom Flemons, at the time still living in his native Arizona, had already begun turning himself into an old-fashioned songster. They were walking around and, for the first time, seeing people with faces like theirs who were digging, and making, the kind of music they loved.

The third musician, a twenty-eight-year-old singer from Greensboro, was starting to experiment with stringed instruments. She was Rhiannon Giddens (pronounced “ree-ann-un,” like in the Fleetwood Mac song, after which she was, surprisingly, not named). She had recently graduated from the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, where she focussed on opera, and had only begun wading into the muddier waters of what the cultural critic Greil Marcus calls “the old weird America.” Her background was in youth choir and art song, but, since college, she had become increasingly interested in her home ground. Thanks to a job as a hostess at a Macaroni Grill, where her duties included singing old Italian arias, she earned enough to buy a ninety-nine-dollar Chinese fiddle and her first banjo, a Deering Goodtime. She had read “African Banjo Echoes in Appalachia,” by Cecelia (Cece) Conway, and was corresponding with the author. Conway told her that Joe Thompson was still playing and that he would be performing in Boone.

“And I went, ‘What?’ ” Giddens recalled, not long ago. “I was just starting to understand the history, and here was the man, practically in my back yard.  It was proof of what I’d been reading about, living proof that this stuff had a place in my community.”

I first met Giddens one afternoon in the spring of 2015, in the kitchen of a cozy Greensboro ranch house she’d recently bought. It was the first of many meetings and conversations throughout the past four years, a running discussion about the origins of the music she draws from, a style that she transforms in her playing, and which has been an obsession of mine for twenty-five years. That day, I started by asking her to describe Thompson.

“Joe?” Giddens said, and gave a characteristic sideways glance, drawing in her cheek and seeming to conjure him in her mind. “He always wore a button-up shirt, and dark pants and a hat—always a hat, like a trucker’s hat of some kind.” He was “formal and friendly all at once—very Southern that way.” She’d immediately noticed “how assured he was,” she said. “Like a rock, secure in his place in the world and in his purpose.” His purpose? “To play fiddle,” she said.

Thompson’s father had grown up playing music at “wood choppings” in rural Orange County. When Giddens and Thompson met, at the festival, Giddens mentioned that her grandmother Armintha (Mint) Morrow, who helped raise her, came from Mebane, too. From then on, Giddens said, “I was Miss Morrow.”

The trio called themselves the Carolina Chocolate Drops. In 2005, they started making trips to Mebane, to sit at Thompson’s feet. The formation of the band was inseparable from these pilgrimages. In playing with Thompson, they were learning to play with one another, and in reading his human songbook they established their own repertoire. Thompson had suffered a stroke in 2001, Giddens said, “but he was still pretty good for a while, and he played till he died.” There were barbecues at his house, and people from the town came, some to join in the playing, most to listen. Giddens watched his hands. Many of the songs he taught her, like “Old Mollie Hare” and “Polly Put the Kettle On,” were those we find in the handful of preserved Frank Johnson playlists.

[...] 

I asked what Thompson had been like as a teacher. Would he demonstrate licks?  “Nah,” she said. “We just played. That’s how it always was with Joe.” There wasn’t a banjo player in the group at that time, and, although Giddens had initially hoped to learn the fiddle from Thompson, she volunteered to play banjo because he didn’t really play without one. “That’s what we ladies do—what needs to be done,” she said. She had learned from Thompson what she called “the feel, the energy, the flow.” “The notes themselves,” she said, “were unimportant. It was, How did he engage with them?” She described his bowing as “magical, something you can’t break down. You just have to absorb. Sometimes I am playing and I hear him come out when I’m not thinking too hard.”

[...]

In the eighteen-nineties, a new political movement calling itself the Fusion Party—a multiracial group made up of white populists and radical Republicans, many of whom were black—was gaining power in North Carolina. Although much of the state was controlled by white supremacists, Wilmington had become a stronghold of Fusionist power. The wharves there had created work opportunities for free black people. After the Civil War, African-Americans in the city began to start businesses, own property, and win political office. In 1898, a local black newspaper editor, Alex Manly, published an editorial arguing that, as often as not, interracial relationships in the South were consensual. Democratic editors reprinted it over and over, for months, in newspapers friendly to the white- supremacist cause, deliberately fomenting a readiness for violent action among a large part of the state’s white citizenry.

On October 27th, Alfred Moore Waddell, a onetime Confederate colonel and a former U.S. congressman, whose career was in decline, gave a speech to hundreds of white supremacists from the stage at Thalian Hall, a big theatre downtown, advocating for a violent takeover. He declared that the whites of Wilmington would “have no more of the intolerable conditions under which we live,” and that they were “resolved to change them, if we have to choke the current of the Cape Fear with carcasses.” Two weeks later, on November 10th, Waddell went on to lead the takeover, marching at the front of a white-supremacist mob with a rifle over his shoulder. An unknown number of black people were murdered in daylight, and the progressive Republican city and county governments were overthrown. Some historians consider it the only successful political coup in American history.

Curiously, Waddell was “A.M.W.,” who, as the reader may recall, had remembered Frank Johnson in the musician’s decline and dotage. In fact, Waddell left us some of the most vivid portraits of Johnson, having seen him play at numerous balls in the eighteen-fifties. The fiddler, Waddell recalled in one essay, “usually wore a stovepipe hat, a stock of the old style, instead of a cravat, and a spike tail coat with brass buttons.” At a ball one night, while Waddell and a pretty girl were dancing together near the center of the dance floor, Johnson stepped down from the stand where he had been playing and walked up beside them and fiddled to them, for them. As Waddell recalled, Johnson, with the violin “still under his chin,” cried out, “That’s the thing! Please God, it reminds me of when I was young.”...

Published in the print edition of the May 20, 2019, issue, with the headline “Folk Like Us.”

John Jeremiah Sullivan is a contributing writer for the Times Magazine and the southern editor of The Paris Review. His forthcoming book is “The Prime Minister of Paradise.”

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