Negro Folk Rhymes Part 1

Negro Folk Rhymes.

by Thomas W. Talley.

INTRODUCTION

Of the making of books by individual authors there is no end; but a cultivated literary taste among the exceptional few has rendered almost impossible the production of genuine folk-songs. The spectacle, therefore, of a h.o.m.ogeneous throng of partly civilized people dancing to the music of crude instruments and evolving out of dance-rhythm a lyrical or narrative utterance in poetic form is sufficiently rare in the nineteenth century to challenge immediate attention. In _Negro Folk Rhymes_ is to be found no inconsiderable part of the musical and poetic life-records of a people; the compiler presents an arresting volume which, in addition to being a pioneer and practically unique in its field, is as nearly exhaustive as a sympathetic understanding of the Negro mind, careful research, and labor of love can make it. Professor Talley of Fisk University has spared himself no pains in collecting and piecing together every attainable sc.r.a.p and fragment of secular rhyme which might help in adequately interpreting the inner life of his own people.

Being the expression of a race in, or just emerging from bondage, these songs may at first seem to some readers trivial and almost wholly devoid of literary merit. In phraseology they may appear crude, lacking in that elegance and finish ordinarily a.s.sociated with poetic excellence; in imagery they are at times exceedingly winter-starved, mediocre, common, drab, scarcely ever rising above the unhappy environment of the singers.

The outlook upon life and nature is, for the most part, one of imaginative simplicity and child-like navete; superst.i.tions crowd in upon a worldly wisdom that is elementary, practical, and obvious; and a warped and crooked human nature, developed and fostered by circ.u.mstances, shows frequently through the lines. What else might be expected? At the time when these rhymes were in process of being created the conditions under which the American Negro lived and labored were not calculated to inspire him with a desire for the highest artistic expression. Restricted, cramped, bound in unwilling servitude, he looked about him in his miserable little world to see whatever of the beautiful or happy he might find; that which he discovered is pathetically slight, but, such as it is, it served to keep alive his stunted artist-soul under the most adverse circ.u.mstances. He saw the sweet pinks under a blue sky, or observed the fading violets and the roses that fall, as he pa.s.sed to a tryst under the oak trees of a forest, and wrought these things into his songs of love and tenderness. Friendless and otherwise without companions.h.i.+p he lived in imagination with the beasts and birds of the great out-of-doors; he knew personally Mr. c.o.o.n, Brother Rabbit, Mr. 'Possum and their a.s.sociates of the wild; Judge Buzzard and Sister Turkey appealed to his fancy as offering material for what he supposed to be poetic treatment. Wherever he might find anything in his lowly position which seemed to him truly useful or beautiful, he seized upon it and wove about it the sweetest song he could sing. The result is not so much poetry of a high order as a valuable ill.u.s.tration of the persistence of artist-impulses even in slavery.

In some of these folk-songs, however, may be found certain qualities which give them dignity and worth. They are, when properly presented, rhythmical to the point of perfection. I myself have heard many of them chanted with and without the accompaniment of clapping hands, stamping feet, and swaying bodies. Unfortunately a large part of their liquid melody and flexibility of movement is lost through confinement in cold print; but when they are heard from a distance on quiet summer nights or clear Southern mornings, even the most fastidious ear is satisfied with the rhythmic pulse of them. That pathos of the Negro character which can never be quite adequately caught in words or transcribed in music is then augmented and intensified by the peculiar quality of the Negro voice, rich in overtones, quavering, weird, cadenced, throbbing with the sufferings of a race. Or perhaps that well-developed sense of humor which has, for more than a century, made ancestral sorrows bearable finds fuller expression in the lilting turn of a note than in the flashes of wit which abundantly enliven the pages of this volume.

There is one lyric in particular which, in evident sincerity of feeling, simple and unaffected grace, and regularity of form, appeals to me as having intrinsic literary value:

She hug' me, an' she kiss' me, She wrung my han' an' cried.

She said I wus de sweetes' thing Dat ever lived or died.

She hug' me an' she kiss' me.

Oh Heaben! De touch o' her han'!

She said I wus de puttiest thing In de shape o' mortal man.

I told her dat I love' her, Dat my love wus bed-cord strong; Den I axed her w'en she'd have me, An' she jes' say, "Go 'long!"

There is also a dramatic quality about many of these rhymes which must not be overlooked. It has long been my observation that the Negro is possessed by nature of considerable, though not as yet highly developed, histrionic ability; he takes delight in acting out in pantomime whatever he may be relating in song or story. It is not surprising, then, to find that the play-rhymes, originating from the "call" and "response," are really little dramas when presented in their proper settings. "Caught By The Witch" would not be ineffective if, on a dark night, it were acted in the vicinity of a graveyard! And one ballad--if I may be permitted to dignify it by that name--called "Promises of Freedom" is characterized by an unadorned narrative style and a dramatic ending which are a.s.sociated with the best English folk-ballads. The singer tells simply and, one feels, with a grim impersonality of how his mistress promised to set him free; it seemed as if she would never die--but "she's somehow gone"! His master likewise made promises,

Yes, my ole Mosser promise' me; But "his papers" didn't leave me free.

A dose of pizen he'pped 'im along.

May de Devil preach 'is funer'l song.

The manner of this conclusion is strikingly like that of the Scottish ballad, "Edward,"

The curse of h.e.l.l frae me sall ye beir, Mither, Mither, The curse of h.e.l.l frae me sall ye beir, Sic counseils ye gave to me O.

In both a story of cruelty is suggested in a single artistic line and ended with startling, dramatic abruptness.

In fact, these two songs probably had their ultimate origin in not widely dissimilar types of illiterate, unsophisticated human society.

Professor Talley's "Study in Negro Folk Rhymes," appended to this volume of songs, is illuminating. One may not be disposed to accept without considerable modification his theories entire; still his account from personal, first-hand knowledge of the beginnings and possible evolution of certain rhymes in this collection is apparently authentic. Here we have again, in the nineteenth century, the record of a singing, dancing people creating by a process approximating communal authors.h.i.+p a ma.s.s of verse embodying tribal memories, ancestral superst.i.tions, and racial wisdom handed down from generation to generation through oral tradition.

These are genuine folk-songs--lyrics, ballads, rhymes--in which are crystallized the thought and feeling, the universally shared lore of a folk. Recent theorizers on poetic origins who would insist upon individual as opposed to community authors.h.i.+p of certain types of song-narrative might do well to consider Professor Talley's characteristic study. And students of comparative literature who love to recreate the life of a tribe or nation from its song and story will discover in this collection a mine of interesting material.

Fisk University, the center of Negro culture in America, is to be congratulated upon having initiated the gathering and preservation of these relics, a valuable heritage from the past. Just how important for literature this heritage may prove to be will not appear until this inst.i.tution--and others with like purposes--has fully developed by cultivation, training, and careful fostering the artistic impulses so abundantly a part of the Negro character. A race which has produced, under the most disheartening conditions, a ma.s.s of folk-poetry such as _Negro Folk Rhymes_ may be expected to create with unlimited opportunities for self-development, a literature and a distinctive music of superior quality.

WALTER CLYDE CURRY.

Vanderbilt University, September 30, 1921.

PART I

NEGRO FOLK RHYMES

DANCE RHYME SECTION

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 n.i.g.g.e.r don't know how to [1]c.o.o.njaint."

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

LOVE IS JUST A THING OF FANCY

Love is jes a thing o' fancy, Beauty's jes a blossom; If you wants to git yo' finger bit, Stick it at a 'possum.

Beauty, it's jes skin deep; Ugly, it's to de bone.

Beauty, it'll jes fade 'way; But Ugly'll hol' 'er own.

STILL WATER CREEK

'Way down yon'er on Still Water Creek, I got stalded an' stayed a week.

I see'd Injun Puddin and Punkin pie, But de black cat stick 'em in de yaller cat's eye.

'Way down yon'er on Still Water Creek, De n.i.g.g.e.rs grows up some ten or twelve feet.

Dey goes to bed but dere hain't no use, Caze deir feet sticks out fer de chickens t' roost.

I got hongry on Still Water Creek, De mud to de hub an' de hoss britchin weak.

I stewed bullfrog chitlins, baked polecat pie; If I goes back dar, I sho's gwine to die.