Curiosities of Music: A Collection of Facts not generally known, regarding the Music of Ancient and Savage Nations

by Louis Charles Elson

THE SOUND OF THE VOICE.

Singular to relate, the Chinese have in their classification of eight musical sounds, utterly omitted to make any mention of the sound of the human voice. In all their great ceremonies, such as hymns of praise to Heaven, and commemoration of the ancestors, songs are used, but never, on these occasions are female voices allowed. In fact, the female, in music, occupies about the same position in China, as she once did in ancient Greece; the better class of respectable matrons do not study any art whatever; and the less respectable and the slaves, are allowed to perfect themselves in many arts of pleasing, among which a study of the lower branches of music, as well as a certain degree of general education is included. A slave is far more marketable with musical talents than without. But women always participated in orchestral music, and in a manner rather astonishing to us; they sometimes played the wind instruments. The singular custom of allowing the weaker sex to play the part requiring the strongest lungs was quite universal among ancient nations, and the Chinese may be regarded as a nation who have kept their ancient usages almost intact. It is seldom however, that women assist in any concerts whatever; the instrumental playing as well as the singing being almost always wholly rendered by men.

Few travellers have heard a musical Chinese lady sing, and those who have enjoyed this rare event, say it is the most torturing of all Chinese music; from the nose and throat issue the most droning and hideous sounds, and they seem to pile Ossa upon Pelion in the way of unnatural tones.

Although the female voice is therefore lacking in the concerted music of this singular people, the parts sometimes run very high for male voice and the singers for these parts are procured in the same manner in which the papal choir in the last century, procured its highest male voices.[116]

Of the divisions of the vocal parts in singing, very little is as yet known, although many books must exist upon the subject, which have hitherto been inaccessible to foreigners. The natural voice of the Chinese is rather high, and very high tenors are not at all rare in the empire.

The voice in China is trained to much flexibility by the exigencies of the language, for the Chinese is in one sense, the most musical of languages, as a word acquires half a dozen different significations according to the pitch of voice, or inflection with which it is pronounced.

The number of different words in the whole Chinese tongue does not exceed three hundred and fifty; all the additional ones, are simply variations of these by lowering, or raising the voice. This leads the foreigner into endless complications and misunderstandings; for example, the word tchu pronounced clearly with the vowel of medium length, means “master,” but by extending the vowel a trifle it signifies “hog;” it also means “column,” and “cookery.” The syllable “po” has eleven different meanings—“glass,” “boil,” “captive,” “prepare,” etc., each of which must be pronounced with a different pitch and inflection.[117] Among the original words are some which decidedly are taken from nature, such as “tchung,”—“bell,” “miaou,”—“cat,” but these are very few.

Some authors have endeavored to show from these facts, that the Chinese is in all respects a musical language, but this can hardly be conceded, for the inflections spoken of, are so slight as to escape the European ear, which surely would not be the case if they were really musical notes, since we have seen that Father Pereira, in the last century, was able to note down at first hearing, and imitate any Chinese song. The people in conversation give the voice a flute-like sound, but this has scarcely arisen from any special musical quality in the language itself.

CHAPTER XIII.
CHINESE MUSICAL COMPOSITIONS AND CEREMONIES.

The most ancient music with the Chinese as with all people, seems to have consisted of hymns to the Deity, rendering thanks to Him for the benefits given to man in the various departments of labor. These were divided according to the class which used them, into agricultural, military, piscatorial, etc. Very soon after these, there came into existence that reverential ceremony in memory of the ancestors, which is so characteristically Chinese, and which became, of all their festivals, the most important and the most musical.

This ceremonial as conducted by the emperor is as follows. In the vestibule of the hall are retainers who bear a particular kind of standards, which show that the coming of the sovereign is expected. Here also are seen bells, drums, and musicians, as well as officers of the guards, all standing in symmetrical figure, and motionless in their position. On entering the hall one sees, right and left, the performers on the cheng and king, and the minor instruments, all arranged in their proper order. In the middle are placed the dancers, in uniform and each holding in hand the instrument which they are to use in their evolutions. Near the end are placed the players of the che and kin as well as the performers on the style of drum called the po-sou, and the singers. Finally, at the lower end of the hall are seen the representations of the ancestors themselves, either in the form of portraits, or of simple tablets bearing the name of each. Before these is a table on which stand flowers and libations. Each performer and instrument is placed in an allotted position. For example, the bell is at the south-west, the cheng at the north-west, the drum at the south-east, the flute at the north-east, and the table at the south; and this arrangement is never departed from.

When the signal announcing the approach of the emperor is heard, the singers and musicians, slowly and with great majesty, begin the hymn of honor, while the emperor, with stately and dignified tread, advances to the table at the south of the hall.[118] It is a moment of holy awe (somewhat akin to the instant when the Host is elevated in Catholic churches) for the spirits of the departed are supposed at this time to come down from Heaven to their descendants. We give here an English paraphrase of the words of part of this hymn, which we have translated from the version of Father Amiot.

Hymn to the Ancestors.[119]

When’er I think of you

Oh ancestors so great,

Then to the highest Heaven

My soul I elevate.

There in th’ immensity

Of the eternal springs

Of Fame which cannot die

And constant happiness

Are your immortal souls.

The vision transport brings

Your valor has reward

Your virtues Heaven doth bless

Around your joyous souls

Each new delight it flings.

Ineffable your joy

Your constant happiness.

If I in spite of faults

And of insufficience

Am called on by the high

Decrees of Providence,

To fill upon the Earth

The very highest place

’Tis but because I am

Descendant of your race.

Although I never may

In your great footsteps move

Yet I will care display

Throughout my life’s high course

That every act of mine

Shall to descendants prove

That I lived not in vain

And need not feel remorse.

In giving this, necessarily weak, translation of the opening part of the hymn, we have endeavored to preserve the short Iambics of the Chinese version; but in the Chinese there are only eight lines to the first division, therefore four lines of the translation correspond to one of the original. After the chorus has sung as far as this, which is only an exordium, or manner of worthily preparing for the following exercises, the emperor prostrates himself three times, touching his forehead to the earth each time, and then taking the libations, offers them up to the departed: meanwhile the chorus sing the second part of the hymn, still in the name of the emperor.[120] In this he again alludes per chorus, to his noble descent, and thanks them for leaving their abode of bliss to visit him, and humbly prostrated, begs to render homage to them, and entreats that they will accept the libations offered, as a testimonial of profound respect and perfect love.[121] After offering these, the emperor prostrates himself nine times to the earth, and then resumes his position in front of the table, while the chorus sing the third part of the hymn. During this final division of the music, the spirits which descended at the first part are supposed to be reascending to Heaven. In the third part the emperor (still by proxy) states how mean and pitiful he feels, after such illustrious predecessors, and tells how heavy the burdens of state are to him, and thanks his ancestors for their spiritual assistance. He concludes with the statement that he can do very little to testify his appreciation of all their benefits, but what he is able to do he has done.

“Three times with respect, have I offered the triple sacrifice; not being able to do more, my vows are satisfied.” The hymn being finished, the emperor retires with his ministers and cortege in the same order in which they entered the hall. The music continues until he has reached his own apartments. Dancers participate in this ceremony and are sumptuously clad and really assume a role of much importance. As with the ancient Greeks and Romans, they are not to be thought of as being jumpers or twirlers; they express by their motions the sentiments which actuate the emperor as he eulogizes his ancestors, expresses his own unworthiness, his gratitude, pride, and other emotions. The music of this august ceremonial, is entirely written in whole notes, without any change of rhythm whatever. It is rather monotonous than distressing to our ears.

This is not the case with other vocal compositions of the Chinese; nearly all travellers agree in saying that their music, in this branch especially, resembles far more the cries of the nocturnal cat than the human voice. The composers seem to have an aversion to progression by degrees, in their songs, and a decided penchant for long skips. We do not intend a slur upon the Scotch music when we say that there are points of resemblance between the Chinese music and the former. Some Chinese airs (given by Irwin and Barrow[122]) show this resemblance startlingly. Although the Chinese understand the division of the chromatic scale perfectly well, yet they never use it; five tones are all they ordinarily employ; these are

FA, SOL, LA, DO, RE,

omitting even the semitone of our diatonic scale. Some of their most eminent theorists have maintained that the notes pienkoung (si) and pienche (mi) are as useless to music as a sixth finger would be to the hand.

It will be observed that the semitone progression is not used in China, and though known, is universally proscribed and avoided; it is this which occasions the peculiarities of Chinese music. On this subject we cannot refrain from re-quoting an article on Chinese music, which appeared in the “China Mail,” a Hong-Kong newspaper, in 1845.[123]

“One possessed of a musical ear, and at all conversant with the musical art, cannot fail, on his arrival in this country, to be struck with the peculiarities of what is esteemed music here. He notices at once, that the characteristics of western melody, are almost wholly wanting. Nearly every note seems out of place, and there is neither beginning, middle nor end, to the airs he listens to. Instead of a theme which is developed and embellished by the whole performance, he hears a hurry-skurry of notes, apparently flung together without link or affinity; and even the confusion of sounds to make it worse, instead of finishing in a quiescing cadence, passes beyond what is looked for as the last note, and sometimes ends with what we should call a flatted keynote, leaving the listeners in a most uncomfortable state of suspense and uncertainty as to what may follow. For my own part, I have not been able as yet to discover whether the Chinese recognise such a thing as a keynote among the parts of song, or whether their composers begin, continue, and end their tunes ad libitum.”

We have inserted the above that the reader may judge how strongly the music distresses the musical European at first hearing; but it is also not to be forgotten that the Eastern, (Hindoo and Arabian) music had a similar effect upon persons who a year later were obliged to acknowledge that they had begun to find beauty, and take pleasure in it.

Of other court musical ceremonies, the emperor’s birthday, the harvest sacrifice, the feast of agriculture, and the fifteenth day of the first moon, are the most important. The first occasion is described by Lord Macartney, who heard it on the 17th of September, 1793. It began with a slow majestic sound of deep-toned bells and muffled drums, in the distance. This impressive music was occasionally interrupted by sudden pauses; with equal suddenness the whole force of singers and instrumentalists would burst out with their utmost strength, while the entire court bowed their faces to the earth as often as the refrain was sung:—“Bow down your heads ye inhabitants of the earth, bow down your heads before the great Kien-long.”

The emperor was not visible during these ceremonies.

Among the secular pieces, collected by Amiot, is one which demands especial notice; it is an instrumental representation of a battle. It will be recollected that fifty years ago, many popular European compositions took this shape. “The battle of Navarino,” “the battle of Prague,” “Waterloo,” etc., were the out-crops of this mania: the Chinese certainly have better instruments than we had, wherewith to represent the din of combat.

In the accompaniment of songs, the Chinese seem to stand, as regards their harmony, about where Europe stood in the middle ages, for they use as sole and only harmony, when playing on the kin, a succession of fourths and fifths.[124]

The constant use of instruments of percussion, in slow and monotonous songs, is one of the most tiresome institutions of the Chinese music; almost all the tunes are taken at an andante or adagio pace, and it is but just to say, that the Chinese chiefly dislike European music because it is often played quickly.

“To what purpose” they ask, “should one dance and hurry in this manner, and how can such things penetrate to the soul? With us” they add proudly, “all is done calmly, and without precipitation.[125]”

It must be acknowledged, that the Chinese love, and take pride in music, that is, in their own kind. In every great state ceremony, in theatres, in religion, it everywhere plays the leading role.

One of the nine tribunals which have charge of the general affairs of the empire, is charged with the care of music, rites, and ceremonies; and the mandarins of music are considered of much higher rank than the mandarins of mathematics, and have their college in the enclosure of the imperial palace.

The fondness for the art is apparent in all classes, and music is used on almost every occasion of festivity, high or low. The streets of the cities are full of peripatetic musicians, who earn their living by catering to the general public, somewhat as the organ grinders do with us.

The feast of lanterns is the greatest of all popular Chinese festivals; it takes place on the fifteenth day of the first moon, and corresponds to a New Year’s feast. On this occasion every part of the immense cities of the empire glows with the light of innumerable lanterns, while fire-works and decorations are seen on all sides. In the streets are seen large Lantern Theatres, that is to say, edifices made of paper; on the inside, which is brightly illuminated, is a stage whereon actors and singers give plays and concerts. Another great festival, where music plays a leading part, takes place on the fifteenth day of the eighth moon. On this evening the Chinese imagine that a hare is seen in the moon, and to the sound of many instruments, the entire population turn out to look at it. It is customary for friends to send each other cakes, on which the figure of a hare is moulded, in sugar. Concerts are an important accessory to this festival with both rich and poor; the former make every effort to secure the best singers and performers for their entertainment on this holiday; the latter, not being able to have the more delicate instruments content themselves with a clatter of basins, pots and frying-pans, and make with these a sort of burlesque concert.

At each full moon there takes place a festival in which gongs and cannons rather than musical instruments are heard. Besides these festivals which are celebrated throughout the empire, there are also local ones, which are numberless. The richest class generally keep their private troupe of musicians, whom they own almost as slaves. Often also they educate young children of both sexes, in the musical art with the utmost care, in order that when grown up they may swell the ranks of their musical retinue. Among these are often special artists whom they will not allow to appear on ordinary occasions, but reserve to perform before their own family, or intimate friends to whom they wish to show especial honor; at such times, the ordinary performers are sent away.

Among the strolling musicians, there are many who make their living by going to private festivals of the middle classes, such as weddings, birthdays, and other rejoicings, even when uninvited; these are similar to our ball room musicians, but also bear some resemblance to the itinerant performers of early Eastern nations. In Poland there still exists a similar class.

For the poorer class, there are also, numerous blind musicians, who travel from house to house, sometimes in bands, sometimes alone. We have already compared these to our own organ-grinders, but they differ from them in one particular; they do not rely so much upon making music indiscriminately, but go, with much tact, to those places where their services are likely to be required.

In China the custom of celebrating the birthday anniversary is universal; these wandering minstrels recollect the date of the birth of each individual for miles around, with unerring exactness, and when a birthday fete occurs in any family, they may calculate with some degree of certainty that the music will come without being sent for.

There are other occasions, where these shrewd disciples of the muses can turn an honest penny; if a skillful physician has saved the life of the wife or child of some rich man no higher compliment can be given to him (besides his fee) by the grateful nabob, than to invite him to a great feast, and to send an escort of eight musicians to convey him thither, besides bringing him numerous presents.

Music is employed at funerals, but the friends of the deceased, are not allowed to perform it; for months after, etiquette forbids their touching any musical instruments.

The mourning for a parent, or grandparent is very strict and protracted. In China filial love and obedience are the virtues most insisted upon. If the descendants give forth any musical sounds at all it is only to howl dismally a chant respecting the virtues of the defunct; there are many of these compositions, or “lamentations” in existence, of which the poetry is by no means despicable. When the funeral ceremony is taking place, some trumpets and a drum placed at the door, announce the arrival of visitors who come with their condolences to the afflicted family. After the body is buried with the ancestors, the bonzes, (Chinese priests) chant the office of the dead, for nine days, and in the procession itself drums, trumpets, tam tams, flutes, etc., play a discordant dirge.

We have already mentioned the wooden fish suspended at the tent door of military commanders to summon them to audiences concerning public and private affairs. Mandarins have, in like manner, a drum in the outer hall of their palaces, by means of which they can be summoned to give audience to any applicant; they are obliged to give immediate attention to the complaint of any person beating the drum, but woe to the audacious drummer who does not have some very especial wrong to complain of; he is immediately soundly bastinadoed.

At eclipses of the moon, the Chinese use their musical instruments in a purposely hideous manner. This is done to frighten away the dragon which is supposed to be eating up the orb of night. Instruments of percussion are chiefly used on this occasion. The same instruments (i. e. gongs, drums, trumpets and tam-tams) are used to aid the marching of the army.

The musical language such as we use in directing the movements of cavalry and artillery, is much more extended, though differently used in China; such musical signals are used in commanding civil as well as military personages. Various trades have their especial songs also, which they sing at their work.

But the music of China, although extending into every department of social and official life, is totally incapable of any advancement. Musical martinets are continually exclaiming against the changes in style of composition, which innovators are constantly introducing into our art,[126] but it is these changes which give the surest signs of real life and intrinsic merit to modern music.

In China, precisely as formerly in ancient Egypt, no such changes are possible; the music for each and every event is as carefully mapped out and adhered to, as is the cut of the garments, or the exchange of civilities among this precise people.[127]

If ever change takes place in their musical system it will assuredly be a gravitation towards the European, as they have in a certain measure a comprehension, theoretically at least, of our system of semi-tones, but could by no means conceive of, and accurately produce the third and quarter tones of Indian music. We have already related the ineffectual movement towards western style, made in the last century; during the embassy of 1793, Macartney observed many indications of inclination for our system, such as the use of the violin,[128] the notation of music upon ruled paper, and interest in the band concerts given at his rooms each evening. He also found in the emperor’s palace at Yuen min-yuen, an English musical clock, made by Geo. Clarke, Leadenhall Street, London, which played many selections from the “Beggar’s Opera.”[129] It is certainly not too venturesome to predict, in spite of the jarring of their music upon us, that they may yet develop a taste for some of the coarser branches of ours.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE CHINESE THEATRE AND DANCES.

Although the Chinese are passionately fond of plays, yet they do not possess a good fixed theatre in their chief cities; for those edifices which are regularly used for this purpose are never of a good class, and many of them are even considered disreputable. The cream of the theatrical troupes are reserved for private entertainments; when a number of people of the middle class desire a comedy, they club together and engage a troupe. The upper classes, as already stated, have always their private comedy company. They have also their private halls for dramatic representations.

The Chinese, have like ourselves, Comedies, Tragedies, Farces, Ballets, etc., and the music attached to them is always of the style of the play. There is an excellent description of the ceremonies and social etiquette used at a private dramatic entertainment, given by Du Halde.[130] He says, ... “It was then, four or five of the principal comedians were seen entering the hall, in rich costumes; they made a profound bow all together, and struck the earth four times with their forehead.... They arose and their chief addressing one of the principal guests, presented to him a book composed of long tablets, on which were written, in golden letters, the names of fifty or sixty comedies, which they knew by heart, and any of which they were ready to perform on the spot if desired; from this book they begged the guest to make a choice. The guest excused himself and handed the volume politely to a second guest, with a sign of invitation; the second guest passed it to the third with the same ceremonies, the third to the fourth, etc. All excused themselves, and finally the book was returned to the comedian, who yielded at last, opened the book, and ran his eye over the list a moment, and then decided upon a comedy which he thought would prove agreeable to all the company. Should there be any inconvenience in producing any particular play, the comedian-in-chief is expected to announce it; one of these inconveniences would be, for example, that one of the chief characters of the play bore a name similar to that of one of the guests. After the choice the comedian shows to the guests the name of the play which he has chosen, and each one signifies by a nod of the head, his approval. The representation begins with some music which is essentially Chinese and noisy. It is performed with metal basins, drums, flutes, fifes, and trumpets. The play is often performed at a banquet, and after the guests have finished their meal, the comedians take their places at the table; after a short refreshment the guests are recalled and the play proceeded with, or a new farce is chosen and performed as dessert.”

Many of the plays are not destitute of poetry and plot. It may not be uninteresting to give a short sketch of the style of incidents woven into their plays by Chinese authors.

The following is an outline of the plot of a play performed before the English embassy, Lord Macartney’s, in the latter part of the last century; it was given in a private theatre, by a private troupe.

“An emperor of China and his empress are living in supreme felicity, when on a sudden his subjects revolt. A civil war ensues, battles are fought; and at last, the arch-rebel, who is a general of cavalry, overcomes his sovereign, kills him with his own hand, and routs the imperial army.

The captive empress then appears upon the stage, in all the agonies of despair, naturally resulting from the loss of her husband, and her dignity, as well as the apprehension of that of her honor. Whilst she is tearing her hair, and rending the skies with her complaints, the conqueror enters, approaches her with respect, addresses her in a gentle tone, soothes her sorrows with his compassion, talks of love and adoration, and like Richard the Third with Lady Anne, in Shakespeare, prevails, in less than half an hour, on the Chinese princess to dry up her tears, to forget her deceased consort, and to yield to a consoling wooer. The piece concludes with a wedding and a grand procession.”[131]

Engel, who quotes the above plot, well says[132] “how interesting would it be to the student of national music, to possess an exact notation of the music belonging to this scene ‘(the empress complaints)’ and to ascertain in what manner the intense emotions and vehement passions represented are expressed in the Chinese musical compositions.”

The above plot is curious in its Shakespearian resemblance, and seems to be a drama of the superior order, for Lord Macartney was shown the highest and best side of Chinese life and art; the comedies of the people are less refined and of broader touches. We give as companion piece to the above, a comedy plot which is a favorite one with Chinese authors as well as the public.

The emperor Vouti, having lost one of his wives, whom he tenderly loved, had recourse to a celebrated magician, who assured him that his spouse was not dead as supposed, for she had bought of him the elixir of immortality; she still existed, but lived chiefly in the moon from whence the magician promised he could cause her to descend as often as desired. The emperor caused to be erected, under the superintendence of the magician, a very high tower, to facilitate her descent; he also often assisted at the incantations of the wizard, but as the fair immortal did not respond, the imposter, fearing the anger of his royal master, invented a new stratagem to avert this unpleasant conclusion. He wrote upon a piece of silk a counterfeit letter from the dear defunct giving various pretended reasons as to why she could not return personally to the royal lover; this letter is given by the sorcerer to a cow, who is then led by him to the emperor to whom he confesses that some involuntary crime has, for the present, interrupted his intercourse and influence with the immortal beings, but that in the stomach of the cow he has perceived something; Vouti commands that the animal be opened on the spot, and the silken message is discovered; the magician is already enjoying his triumph when it is perceived that the characters of the communication are in his own handwriting. He is at once condemned to death, and the emperor thenceforth renounces magicians, immortal elixirs, etc., etc.[133]

It is well known that the Chinese often give, on the stage, a representation of the life of the hero of the play from early infancy (sometimes even from birth) to death, and these representations last weeks in their performance; every action being done deliberately; for example, if a performer smokes a pipe, he does not give a whiff or two and then go on with the action, but calmly and placidly smokes it out to the last puff.

Fairy spectacles, the Chinese also possess, in which Genii appear and disappear, as well as birds and beasts endowed with the power of speech. Their farces are of a much broader character, and often in these, the clownish, awkward character is a European or an American; they heartily enjoy all his mishaps, even his manner of lifting his hat and bowing, being held up to ridicule; it is very much the same kind of pleasure as we “western barbarians” enjoy in seeing such farces as “Ici on parle Francais” or “The Perplexed Dutchman,” where the habits of a Frenchman, and German, are the mirth-provoking element; or of a piece with the character of Sir Hugh Evans and Dr. Caius, in Shakespeare’s “Merry Wives of Windsor.”

There is another point of resemblance in Shakespeare, to the Chinese drama: his following of the life of Henry VI. so closely and extensively (through three parts) suggests the more extensive life-history-dramas of the celestial empire. But the Chinese also give the “outside barbarians” a thrust, au serieux; for in their plays the devil often appears, dressed as a European.

In the music of their dramas, the Chinese are decidedly Wagnerian, for not only do they use a great many loud instruments (chiefly of percussion) but they illustrate with them the action of the drama; when an actor enters into a combat at arms, the orchestra pound away at their instruments with redoubled vigor. The characters often sing long arias to the accompaniment of these voice-drowning instruments.[134] There is much spoken action as well as song in these dramas, which therefore approach more nearly to our vaudevilles than any thing else.

Choruses are few in Chinese pieces, but sometimes the air is sung by many voices, in order to emphasize it, and make it more plainly perceptible above the racket of the orchestra.

The Chinese have also many tragedies and comedies wherein no music whatever is employed. The actors in these, assuming the ordinary conversational tone.

Conjugal infelicity and infidelity, form a staple plot with these, and the same inappropriate and ludicrous entering into detail is apparent in them.[135]

Movable scenes are not used, and the most infantile devices are used when a rapid change is necessary; a general having to depart on a distant expedition, mounts a hobby horse, or even a cane, and using a small whip with one hand, imitates riding, (three or four times around the theatre being sufficient) and then, announcing that he has arrived at his destination, goes on with his speeches without any embarrassment. This is but one example of the many where the dramatists draw heavily upon the imagination of their audiences.

The actor on entering (in the play) begins by announcing his name and telling the audience why and wherefore he has come; this is done to simplify the following of the action, as in some dramas there are hosts of characters and one player often assumes many roles.

Such puerility is caused partly by the small size of the stages, which would not admit a host of performers, and partly by the fact that many of the characters in a Chinese play are comparatively unimportant, appearing once, and then vanishing forever; in fact at the end of some of the Chinese dramas, one is considerably mystified as to the fate of many of the characters, as the author, unlike the European and American dramatists, who make everybody (except the villain) happy in the last act, only deems it necessary to follow out closely the career of his hero and heroine, and they being once dead, the other characters are allowed to wind up in a very sudden and, to us, very unsatisfactory manner. The musical part of these dramas is often quite long, and whenever the actor desires to express much feeling, he falls into music. Sometimes it is introduced in a most unnatural manner; in one tragedy, a wife having murdered her husband is sentenced to be flayed alive; after the execution of the sentence, she returns to the stage wholly bereft of her skin, (this is depicted with true Chinese realistic effect, the body of the performer being painted in exact imitation of nature in such a hideous plight) and she then and there sings a song to excite the pity of the infernal spirits. The song is full of screeches and howls, and lasts half an hour.[136] Let us not be too hasty in smiling at such absurd stage effects; there is an opera still performed on our own stage, where an innocent Jewess is boiled in oil, as finale, and as to the inappropriateness of a long song, under such circumstances, there is a long chorus in a French opera of the last century, where the mayor of the village having fallen into the water, the anxious choristers sing for many minutes, that “he will he drowned unless he is speedily helped out;” decidedly we must not smile too broadly at the Chinese, as yet.

Sir John Barrow[137] speaks of the theatre, which he visited, as a mere “Shed of Bamboo.” He says: “In the farther division of the building, a party of comedians were engaged in the midst of an historical drama, when we entered; but on our being seated they broke off, and coming forward, made before us an obeisance of nine genuflexions and prostrations, after which they returned to their labors, keeping up an incessant noise and bustle during our stay. The heat of the day, the thermometer standing at eighty-one degrees, in the open air, and at least ten degrees higher in the building, the crowds that thronged to see the strangers [this was in 1792, when Europeans were great rarities in China] the horrible crash of the gongs, kettle drums, trumpets, and squalling flutes, were so stunning and oppressive that nothing but the novelty of the scene could possibly have detained us a moment.”

“The most entertaining, as well as the least noisy part of the theatrical exhibition, was a sort of interlude, performed by three young women, for the amusement it would seem of the principal actress, who sat as a spectator, in the dress and character of some ancient queen, whilst an old eunuch, very whimsically dressed, played his antic tricks like a scaramouch, or buffoon in a Harlequin entertainment.”

“The dialogue in this part, differed entirely from the querulous and nearly monotonous recitation of the Chinese, being light and comic, and occasionally interrupted by cheerful airs, which generally concluded with a chorus. These airs rude and unpolished as they were, appeared to be regular compositions, and were sung in exactly measured time. One in particular attracted our attention, whose slow, melancholy movement breathed the kind of plaintiveness so peculiar to the native airs of the Scotch, to which indeed it bore a close resemblance.” [We have before spoken of this resemblance, which proceeds from both scales, Chinese and Scotch, being pentatonic, or five toned.] “The voices of the women are shrill and warbling, but some of their cadences were not without melody. The instruments at each pause gave a few short flourishes, till the music gradually increased in loudness by the swelling and deafening gong. Knowing nothing of the language we were of course as ignorant of the subject as the majority of an English audience is at an Italian opera.” Thus speaks Barrow of his first impressions of a Chinese theatre, but he probably fell into two errors; the women, whom he mentions were in all likelihood, eunuchs; and the theatre itself, being public, was of inferior style to those private establishments which are the pride of the rich mandarin class.

It is singular, however, that the noise of the gong, tamtam, trumpet, etc., are inseparable from all Chinese dramatic performances: although the noise is deafening, and the voices of the actors are sometimes drowned in spite of their shouting themselves hoarse, yet this pandemonium only gives tranquil delight to the Chinese spectator whether he be of high or low class. It is so extraordinary a fact that physiologists and anatomists have endeavored to prove that the cause is due to a peculiar formation of the Chinese ear.[138]

Certain it is that the Chinese are so passionately fond of the drama, that they will sometimes pass many hours in succession in this noisy entertainment.

There is a tremendous number of comedians in China; most of them are purchased in early infancy by the chiefs of troupes, and by them trained in music, singing, declamation, pantomime, and dance. It is a species of slavery, not very unlike that of old Rome, but is not always life-long.

Some comedians, especially the chiefs, acquire large fortunes in the exercise of their calling, but the caste is so looked down upon, by the general public, and the facility of confiscating their fortune is so great, that they seldom attempt to leave the profession, or make any display of their wealth, lest it should be seized under any pretext by some mandarin, in which case (in spite of the theoretical justice of China) it would probably be beyond recovery.[139]

We may mention here, a peculiar mode of paying actors, in Cochin China.

The occasion described is an entertainment, the expenses of which were borne by the Quong, or provincial governor. An Englishman who was present, thus speaks of the affair,—“The Quong was there squatted on a raised platform in front of the actors, with a small drum before him, supported in a diagonal position, on which he would strike a tap every time any part of the performance pleased him; which was also a signal for his purse bearer to show a small string of about twenty cash to the actors. To my taste this spoiled the effect of the piece; for every time the cash fell among them, there would be a silence, and the next moment a scramble for the money; and it fell so frequently as almost to keep time with the discordant music of the orchestra.

The actors were engaged by the day, and in this manner received their payment, the amount of which depended upon the approbation of the Quong, and the number of times he encored them by tapping his drum. I could see that many of them paid far more attention to the drum than they did to their performance; though I suppose the amount thrown to them is equally divided. Sometimes the string on which the cash was tied, unluckily broke, and the money flew in all directions; by which some of the by-standers profited, not being honorable enough to hand it up to the poor actors.[140]

This was a public performance and took place in a large shed, before a numerous audience. Often the theatrical performances are allowed to take place in the Joss-houses or houses of worship, the bonzes or priests being wise enough not to offer any obstacles to a mode of amusement so thoroughly loved and appreciated by all the Chinese.

It is somewhat singular, and yet in keeping with the custom of the most ancient nations, that the Chinese should at the same time enjoy the drama so keenly, and despise the performers of it. The comedians are kept as thoroughly within their caste as musicians were in Egypt, four thousand years ago. Parents in China have almost unlimited power over their children (filial love and obedience is the highest of Chinese virtues,) they may sell them as slaves, or in some instances kill them, but they are not allowed to sell them to the troupes of strolling comedians, or to magicians. Any person so selling them is punished with one hundred blows of the bamboo, and any go-between or middle-man, in such transactions, receives a similar dose; any person of free parentage, marrying an actor or actress, is punished in the same manner, in spite of the precedent of several emperors. The crime of intimacy with actresses is punishable with sixty blows, but this is easily eluded, and the law seems to be obsolete. This punishment is not attended with much infamy; the bastinado is in fact the lightest of Chinese punishments. When the number of blows does not exceed twenty, there is no disgrace whatever attached to the infliction: it is then considered only a paternal chastisement; the emperor himself often orders this correction to be administered to high officials for slight faults, and afterwards treats them as if nothing had happened. After such paternal punishment is inflicted, the victim goes on his knees to the judge, bows his head three times to the earth, and thanks him for the care he has given to the education of his subject.[141]

It is significant that the “State Gazette” of Pekin, which will often enter into details concerning the death of a private soldier, and give eulogies to the military valor of the most humble, does not even mention the decease of the most brilliant and well-known comedian, no matter how much applause may have been accorded to him while living.

In such a country as China, it is easily imagined that there exists a large troupe of “comedians to the emperor.” These although not more superbly costumed than those of some rich mandarins, are clothed in a peculiar manner. Of course it would not be allowable to turn their backs upon the emperor, and yet often the action of the play, might demand that they turn around. This dilemma is overcome by allowing them to wear two masks, one on the face, the other at the back of their head, and thus, Janus-like, they can always face the emperor. Their clothing is in consequence different from that of ordinary actors, having two fronts and no back.[142]

The corps of singers, declaimers and musicians of all kinds belonging to the Imperial court, is of course very large.

The dances of China, are as with all Eastern or ancient nations, purely pantomimical, there are few pirouettes and skips as in our ballet. The names and subjects of some of the earlier dancers, will show this conclusively; “The labors of Agriculture,” “Joys of the Harvest,” “The fatigues of War,” “The pleasures of Peace,” “The skill of Hunting,” etc. These all show a primitive style of the art, and are not far removed from the dances we shall find in vogue among the most crude children of nature, such as the Australians, the Bushmen, or the Tasmanians. The Chinese possess (as did the Egyptians) a number of gymnastic performances similar to our clog, ballet, and comic dances, but these come a long way after the dance proper, in the estimation of the people; the word ou which signifies dance, does not apply to them. We cannot be surprised if from earliest times the regulation of the dance has been a matter of State legislation.

The ancient emperor was allowed eight dances, with eight performers to each, his full troupe containing sixty-four members. Kings of Provinces had six dances of six performers, thirty-six in all; and thus through all the upper ranks, literary doctors being allowed only two dances of two performers each. Only certain instruments were allowed as accompaniment, and the direction of the whole was always to be in charge of various musical doctors. There also existed dances which were called “little dances,” as they were taught to children at a tender age; the names of some of these are interesting; “the Dance of the Flag,” danced in honor of the spirits of earth and the harvests, so called because the dancers waved small banners; “The Dance of the Plumes,” in honor of the spirits of the four quarters of the world, in which the young dancers carried a plume of white feathers, attached to a short stick; “The Dance of the Foang-hoang,” which was danced to induce the assistance of the mysterious bird (already described) in times of drought, and in which the dancers held plumes of feathers of five colors; “the Dance of the Ox Tail,” in which each dancer swings an ox tail; “The Dance of Javelins,” where this weapon was brandished in honor of river and mountain spirits; and finally, “the Dance of Man,” in which the hands were quite free, no accessories being used.

The “Javelin Dance,” was not altogether pleasing to the great philosopher Confucius. He condemns it as being too war-like, and the gestures accompanying it, as too savage; as a whole he thought it liable to inspire cruel sentiments. He preferred the “Dance of the Plumes,” as containing all the chief elements of the “Javelin Dance” without tendency to cruelty. In the palace, the sons of the emperor only, were permitted to the “Dance of the Plumes.”

At the epoch, when these dances were at their zenith, the emperors had a peculiar way of showing by them their approbation, or condemnation of their viceroys. When the viceroy was presented at court, if his administration seemed good to the emperor, he was welcomed by numerous and lengthy dances; if, on the contrary his government seemed worthy of censure, the dances were both short and few.

The following were the customs observed in presenting them:—Long before the dance began, a drum was sounded “to dispel from the minds of the spectators any thoughts unsuited to the occasion.” On the arrival of the performers, they took three steps forward and put themselves in an attitude, calculated to impress the beholders; a sort of tableau vivant. The entrance was always accompanied with a slow movement of the music, which gradually augmented both in speed and volume, until the finale, when the climax having been reached, the music had attained a presto movement, and the dancers retired with precipitation in order that the interest might not have time to flag.

Sometimes the dancers carried a small shield with bell attached.

The Chinese sages deeply regret the loss of these ancient dances; (for like all excellent customs the modern writers claim that they were at their best in “the good old times,”) it seems that the ancient Chinese, endeavored in the dance, to reproduce an easily-comprehended allegory of the natural actions of men; the movements, gestures, attitudes, and evolutions, all to be natural and easily understood by the spectators. Since the days of Confucius, this simple style of dancing has fallen greatly to decay.

In those days many of the emperors of China studied and understood the art of dancing. History shows many such “Davids” (although not so well known as Israel’s royal dancer) in the dynasties of the empire. Autumn was the favorite season for the study of dancing, as the “feast of ancestors” takes place in the Spring, and the pupils were ready to exhibit their proficiency at that great event. The ancient practice of imperial dancing, was continued even as recently as 1719, when one of the sons of Kang-hi, of the age of twenty, performed before the emperor and his court. There are also mandarins whose duty it is to dance before the emperor; the pantomime of these is especially graceful and dignified. They advance slowly two by two, their limbs and bodies moving gently to the time of a tranquil music; they turn around without quitting their relative positions, and after a series of gestures made in perfect unison, and some symmetrical evolutions, they make the salute of honor, and retire. This dance seems to be only a formal expression of homage to the emperor. The dress of these officials is uniform, and elegant, fine silk capes, caps, etc., the only difference of costume being the buttons, with which the top of the caps are ornamented; the different color of these being indicative of greater or lesser rank. This corps of dancers is recruited from the wealthiest and greatest families of the empire.

In the dances, every detail is strictly systemized and observed; the very positions are calculated according to the points of the compass; thus one dancer is always placed at the north-west, another at the north-east, the entrance is to be made from a fixed cardinal point, the exit at another; all is rule and precision.

The number of dancers is not at present limited to that given above (sixty-four for the emperor, thirty-six for viceroys, etc.) as the ancient standard. At times of great festivity, the dancers of the Imperial court are reckoned by hundreds. Such grandes ballets, are almost always symmetrical and in concerted movements; but there are also solo dances; in these pas seuls the dancer often accompanies himself with both song and instrument. This proves how slow and majestic the motions must be.

In dances, females very often appear, but in private only. Mandarins frequently own female dancers and singers, whose performances are reserved for their own families. It is but rarely, and as a mark of especial honor, that they allow some intimate friend to view the dancing of these slaves.

Spectacular pantomimes, such as delight the theatre-goers at Christmas time in Europe and America, find also a congenial atmosphere in China; a most beautiful one was performed in the presence of the emperor, and Lord Macartney, in 1793. In this representation the object seemed to be, to illustrate upon the stage, the wonders and fertility of the world, or an allegory of the intermarriage of earth and ocean. The earth gave forth in this pantomime, a large number of its animals, and products; elephants, tigers, dragons, ostriches and eagles, as well as oaks, pines, bamboos, and other specimens of vegetation appeared upon the stage; while upon a lower stage, the ocean sent forth whales, dolphins, porpoises, and also vessels, rocks, weeds, sponges, and coral. Each of these creations was true to life, and in many of them were concealed actors who represented the motions and habits of the animals in a manner quite natural. After these products of earth and sea had performed several evolutions separately, each division moving in a separate circle, all united and came to the front of the stage, where a farther series of movements was enacted; suddenly the entire mass of actors divided, moving swiftly to the right and left in order to give place to the whale, who seemed a sort of commander in chief. This immense fish then advanced to the front of the stage, opposite the box in which the emperor was seated; on arriving here, he lifted his head and spurted an enormous mass of water, amounting to many barrels full, into the pit of the theatre; where (holes having been bored to receive it) it swiftly disappeared.[143]

This performance seemed to give the greatest delight to the Chinese part of the audience. The music attached to this spectacle, was as usual of the most deafening character.

Of the lower order of dances, such as tumbling, harlequinades, etc., the Chinese have a vast variety; even puppet shows (marionettes) are greatly used by them, and plays with simple plots, very skilfully given by their means. This is the story represented at one of them;—An unfortunate princess is kept prisoner in a castle surrounded by dragons: to her comes a bold warrior, who after many combats with dragons, wild beasts and other horrible creations, succeeds in killing, vanquishing and dispersing them. He is recompensed by receiving the hand of the grateful princess, and the whole concludes with processions, tournaments and other festivities.[144]

As to the musical part of all these lesser performances, it is nearly always present, and ever of the peculiar style which has filled every traveller (so far as we know without exception), with utter distaste. The juggling performances, of which there are many, both public and private, are accompanied throughout with the above described orchestra. Feats of skill, performed by troupes of children are especially admired by the Chinese, and much sought for. The children begin their training in these arts, very young.

Boat races have also their music, which is evidently intended to inspirit the oarsmen. The following is a description of such an event, (so far as it relates to music).

“On each side of the little mast that supports the national flag, are two men, who leave off striking the tum-tum, and executing rolls upon the drum, whilst the mariners leaning over their oars, row on vigorously, and make the dragon junk, skim rapidly over the water.

Whilst these elegant boats are contending with each other, the people throng the quays, the shore and the roofs.... They animate the rowers with their cries and plaudits; they let off fireworks; they perform at various points, deafening music, in which the sonorous noise of the tum-tum, and the sharp sound of a sort of a clarinet, giving perpetually the same note, predominate over all the rest. The Chinese relish this infernal harmony.”[145]

We have dwelt with some detail upon the music of the Chinese, for we consider these people, musically as well as ethnologically and philologically a series of contradictions, and especially differing from all our conceived notions of right and propriety: a nation where music is heartily loved, and taught to youth,[146] and yet where musical progress is almost unknown; where goodness and love are taught in the most beautiful writings, and where greater cruelties are practised than anywhere else on earth. They differ from us on almost every point. We mourn in black, they in white; we respect crowns as badges of honor, they the boots; we build solid walls, they make them hollow; we pull a boat, they push it; we place the orchestra in front of the stage; they behind it; with us children fly kites, with them, men; we scratch the head when puzzled, they, the antipodes of it, etc, etc.[147]

A nation so strange cannot be judged flippantly or speedily; only a short time since we held the Japanese in the rank of the semi-civilized; now they are making giant strides on the highway of progress. Who dare say that the Chinese may not yet experience a similar awakening? At present their heaviest drawbacks, in music, as well as in all civilization, seem to be, a senseless clinging to ancient usages; an education of the head, and not of the heart; an etiquette which becomes both ludicrous and burdensome in its requirements;[148] a totally false position of woman; and a theoretically competitive, but practically corrupt public service. There have recently been unmistakeable signs of progress, and, once begun, it is more than probable that the reform will be thorough and swift as it has thus far been with their neighbors. In such case, China will be of far higher interest to the world than she has been to us in our describing her as—a curiosity shop.

CHAPTER XVII.
MUSIC OF JAPAN.

It is a singular fact, that while the Japanese have in all ages given a great deal of attention to poetry the kindred art of music has been suffered to remain almost neglected. Their musical system has never been carefully formed or elucidated, and although they may vie with the Chinese in the beauty of their poetical effusions, in the field of music their research is nothing, when compared with the immense patience and study which the latter people have given to the subject.

Although there are few treatises on the art, yet the practice of music is now deemed an essential part of the education of a Japanese young lady, for contrary to Chinese custom, we find that in Japan, the female sex are proficient in the art.

Although at first glance there seems to be much affinity between Japanese and Chinese music, (so much so, that it seems natural to suppose that the former was an outgrowth of the latter) yet, upon closer analysis, these resemblances are found to be few, and the contradictions many and irreconcilable.

The Japanese songs do not appear to have been founded on the Chinese pentatonic scale, but rather upon the chromatic.

It is very possible, that the music of Japan had its rise long ago, within the limits of the island. Unfortunately, in this branch of history, we can as yet, come to no definite conclusion; the absence of all knowledge of the system (if there be one worthy of the name) on which their melodies are formed, and the very slight knowledge of the ancient history of the people, confine us altogether to conjecture and inference. That China exerted some influence upon the musical style of Japan, is undeniable. In the year (A. D.) 57, an embassy was sent from the island, to the Emperor of China, with presents. The return of this expedition, brought to the (at that time) totally rude and uncultivated people, the fruits of the older Chinese civilization, and it was probably at that epoch, that the Chinese instruments, which still exist in Japan, were introduced.

The instruments of Japan, though resembling, are much cruder than their Chinese, prototypes. The che, of China, is found under the name of koto. It is larger than the che, but has fewer strings; the latter are of silk, lightly lacquered. The sam-sin is a guitar, with a very long neck, and has three strings. These instruments are among the indispensable articles of the wedding outfit of every bride.[149]

Of wind instruments they have many styles of flutes and a trumpet, made of a conch shell.[150] The cheng (small mouth organ) is also possessed by them. It is called in Corean dialect saing-hwang.[151] Gongs, tamtams, and noisy instruments of percussion, the Japanese possess in profusion; they have also a curious instrument, quite like the Egyptian sistrum,[152] formed of two sonorous metallic rings upon a light frame work, which give forth a tinkling and jingling upon being shaken, or struck with a small stick.[153] The ko-kiou is a kind of violoncello played with a bow; the birva is a similar instrument, which is picked with a plectrum. The same plectrum is used in performing upon the sam-sin. The clarionet is used very frequently; it is made of bamboo, like the flute. There is also an eight-holed flageolet. Among the instruments of percussion, are wooden rattles; stone drums like bowls, which stand on low frames; a musical drum made of leather; the tam-tam, or portable tambourine; gongs of all shapes, such as shields, fishes, tortoises, etc., producing all tones grave and piercing; bells, and kettle drums.

The tambourines which accompany the character dances, are sometimes played two at a time; one being held under the arm, the other in the left hand.[154] There is a picture extant, representing a Japanese concert, in which there is one melodious instrument (a flute) against six instruments of percussion, such as bells, cymbals and drums.[155]

The Japanese ladies not only play the various instruments, but study singing, assiduously. The language is well adapted to vocal efforts, being one of the most melodious and soft of the East; it approaches the Italian in its smoothness; it is monosyllabic,[156] but not varying with the pitch of the voice, as the Chinese does. (The written characters have been derived from the Chinese.) The very alphabet, or the nearest Japanese approach to it, is converted into a short song, which is characteristic of the materialistic views of the people.

The poetic setting of the “Irova” (as this is called) runs thus:—

“Color and light pass away

In our world nothing is permanent

The present day has disappeared

In the profound abyss of nothingness.

It was but the pale image of a dream;

It causes in our bosoms no regret.”[157]

Nothing can give a stronger picture of the philosophy of Buddhism and its influence upon the Japanese mind.

Buddhism was so well suited to the temper of the people, that upon its introduction into the country (A. D. 552) it almost absorbed the ancient style of worship (Sintuism), and has, at the present time, so altered that superstition, that the prevailing aspiration of one branch, even of that creed, is an escape from trouble into nothingness. The mode of worship is exceedingly simple, and in the main, joyous; there is no thought of supplication to their deities; for as they regard these as being in a state of bliss, they deem that the sight of any person in distress, must be painful to them, and therefore, when in trouble, they avoid going to religious exercises. In fact on the days of religious festivals, they behave in a manner which we should call decidedly immoral, but they do it with the best of motives, for they argue that nothing can please the gods more than to see mortals enjoying themselves heartily; and on this plea, both Buddhists and Sintuists indulge in all kinds of excesses on holidays.

Music does not play a very important part in the religious ceremonies of Japan. The Sintuists, who worship the Kami, or demi-gods, employ choirs on some occasions, and bear in all their ceremonies, some resemblance to the Catholic rites; this resemblance is yet more striking in the Buddhist religion; so much so, that a pious divine[158] on beholding their customs, came to the conclusion that the whole was a parody by Satan, upon the Catholic church.

The annual fetes instituted in honor of the chief Kami, consist almost wholly in ceremonies of purification. On the day before the chief solemnity, the priests march in procession, with tapers, to the temple where the arms and other objects which belonged to the demi-god, are kept in a reliquary called mikosi. According to the priests, the mikosi is the earthly dwelling place of the Kami; a sort of terrestrial throne, for occasional inhabitance; and each year it must undergo a thorough purification, in order to be acceptable to the hero. The reliquary is emptied and brought to the river; a certain number of priests carefully wash it, while others kindle a series of huge fires, to keep away the evil genii. The kagoura, or sacred choir, play soft and pleasant music, in order to appease the Kami, who is temporarily deprived of his earthly dwelling; they make as much haste as possible to restore it to him, which is done by placing the relics again in the reliquary.

The temple itself undergoes a purification lasting several days, at the same time. Sometimes the Buddhists send out collectors for their temples, who sing and play, quite musically, in front of the doors of persons from whom they expect to obtain a gratuity; they continue at each door until the heart of the proprietor is softened, or his patience gone, when the door is opened and the singers rewarded civilly.[159]

In order that the similarity of the Buddhist and Christian rites may be remarked, we give the description of the interior of a temple during worship, as seen by a European traveller.[160]

“A hundred kneeling devotees were present; a large shrine, with a gilt image in its recess; two large globular lamps, and two burning candles, immensely long and thick; as also numerous gold and porcelain vases, holding lighted tapers, and surrounded by a forest of artificial flowers, were the objects that most riveted his attention. On both sides of this magnificent and richly gilded shrine were two smaller ones, each illuminated with lighted candles and perfumed tapers, burning with colored flame; the effect of which was very beautiful. In front of the principal altar, within an enclosure, knelt six shaven-headed priests (the latter, and physicians shave the whole of the hair off their heads), robed in crimson silk, and white crape; the centre and chief of whom engaged himself in striking a small saucer-shaped bell, while four more of the number performed a similar duty with padded drumsticks on hollow vessels of lacquered wood, which awoke a dull, monotonous sound. They kept good time, playing in unison, and toning their prayers to their music in chanting. At the conclusion of this singing and drumming they bent their foreheads to the floor, after which they arose and repaired to the smaller shrines, where a ceremony made up of gesticulation and a solemn reading of prayers, took place. In the meantime, the audience knelt, with their eyes directed to the ground, and gave some time to silent prayer.”

Music bore a part also in the funeral ceremonies of some sects in Japan. The priest sang a eulogy of the dead, just before the funeral pile was set on fire.[161]

The order of “mountain priests” use a few instruments of sound (rather than music) in their wanderings. They have a staff with a copper head, to which are fastened four rings, also of copper, which they shake on uttering certain words in their prayers. They also carry a shell called forano-kai, to which a tube is attached, and which they use as a trumpet. They blow a blast upon this instrument (which in tone resembles the horn of a cowherd) whenever they see any travellers approaching, as a summons to them to give some charity to the order.[162]

There also exist several orders of a semi-ecclesiastical character; among which may be mentioned the society of blind men. One branch of this society gives the following legend as to its origin. Kakekigo, a general much renowned for his valor and supernatural strength, fought under a prince, named Feki, against the famous hero, Joritomo. In a great battle Feki was killed, and Kakekigo taken prisoner. Joritomo, far from desiring to put him to death, sought by every means to attach him to his own army. One day, when he was pressing him very close to enter into his service, upon whatever terms he pleased, the captive general returned him the following resolute answer:—“I was once the faithful servant of a kind master. Now that he is dead no other shall boast of possessing my faith and friendship. I owe even my life to your clemency; and yet such is my misfortune, that I cannot set my eyes on you, but with a design, in revenge of him and me, to cut off your head. Therefore, these designing instruments of mischief, I will offer to you, as the only acknowledgement of your generous behavior towards me which my unhappy condition will allow me to give you.” Saying this, he plucked out his eyes, and presented them, on a salver, to Joritomo; who, astonished at so much magnanimity and resolution, instantly set him at liberty.

Kakekigo then retired into the province of Fiuga, where he learned to play upon the birva (a musical instrument mentioned above), and founded the society of the Feki-blind, of which he himself was the first head. Many of the members of this society apply themselves to music, in which capacity they are employed at the courts of Princes and great men, as also upon public solemnities, festivals, processions, weddings, and the like. The society does not solicit charity, but its members all strive to be self-supporting, as well as of mutual assistance to each other. Whoever is once admitted as a member, must remain so for life.[163]

The Birva, mentioned above, is a great favorite with the masses, especially when played by the Feki musicians, who still make it their chief instrument. It has been known in Japan for twelve hundred years;[164] and one of the most beautiful lakes in Japan, near Kiota is named Birva Lake, from its shores resembling the outline of that instrument.

The religious chanting of some of the larger sects, is quite impressive. Mr. Sile, Professor of History and Philosophy at the Imperial University of Yeddo, says:—“Some of the chants are very impressive; especially those of the Buddhists; they have a kind of sepulchral solemnity about them, and when performed responsively by large companies of Bonzes, on either side of a gloomy temple, in front of a shadowy half-illumined shrine, they sound like the mournful wailings of prisoners, not of hope, but of despair.”[165]

The peculiarity of the performance lies in this: every man chants, not on a given key, but on that which best suits his natural voice. The time is well kept, but the key notes are as various as each voice that sings; as each one is allowed to choose his own pitch. The effect is good; it giving that blurred and massive sound, which is observed when a large congregation repeats the “Lord’s Prayer” together; but the inflections and intervals are more marked and effective. Instrumental music is also sometimes present. The bonzes clad in heavy, sacerdotal vestments, officiate to an accompaniment of gongs and tambourines.

The solemn entry of the high priest into the choir, makes an immediate diversion in the monotony of the service. This grand dignitary is clad as richly as the bishops and arch-bishops of the west; red cloak, green silk stole, and white embroidered robes. He is followed by a young acolyte, dressed chiefly in white, who accompanies his master, step by step, to offer to him, at an understood signal, a cup of tea from a portable vessel which he carries with both hands.[166]

Some of the Buddhist bonze-houses are celebrated for their luxury, the number of their priests, their magnificent attire, and the theatrical grandeur of their religious ceremonies. There are also endless numbers of retainers, heralds, grooms and porters, attached to the monasteries. The bonzes often give theatrical spectacles, in which dancers and comedians appear. A very curious piece is given on the fifteenth day of the sixth month. It is a sword dance, or military pageant, performed entirely by the priests. Buddhism in Japan has been a most flexible and conciliatory religion. It has succeeded so easily against the older Japanese religion of Kami, or hero-worship, because its introducers saw what customs had become rooted in the Japanese heart, and retained them. Thus we find the worship of heroes, tolerated in the Buddhist faith, as well as every spectacle and sound, calculated to please the senses of the people. It also steered clear of the rock upon which Christianity split (in Japan), that is, the alienation of the people from their rulers or sovereign.

Players of secular music, are numerous everywhere in Japan, but few of them have any idea of time or notation. Blind musicians (of the fraternity above mentioned, and of another called the Buffetz) are numerous and much encouraged by the people, probably on account of their infirmity. Women and girls form the bulk of the secular players and singers. Most of these have been brought up to this from childhood, and (as with the ancient Greeks,) the possession of a musical and literary education often goes hand in hand with considerable laxity of morals.

The practice of music is, therefore, not held in any great esteem among men, as the few males who devote themselves to it are chiefly itinerants. The secular songs are often plaintive in character, but at times also quite stirring and fiery.

In Japan, as in some other Eastern countries, it is not unusual to find persons among the upper classes, who, while disdaining to study the art themselves, yet are very fond of listening to the performances of hired musicians. The taste seems to run entirely in the direction of melody, and not at all towards harmony; although they have a knowledge of a rude kind of harmony, consisting of melodies played upon two or more instruments tuned a fifth apart, thus forming an endless succession of consecutive fifths. This harmony, or a plain melody played in unison, they prefer to the finest (or, in fact, any) European music. Our readers will recollect the answer made by the Chinese mandarin to Pere Amiot, relative to his opinion on the respective worth of Chinese and European music. A similar reply was given by a Japanese nobleman to Dr. Müller, when asked to give an opinion on our music,—“European music may please women, children, and common people, but Japanese gentlemen may not endure it.”

In singing, the Chinese custom of using falsetto tones, obtains also in Japan. One peculiar taste for Western music exists among the Japanese; they like, and purchase many of our music boxes, and many are made in Switzerland especially for the Chinese and Japanese market. These contain two Chinese airs; but it is said that the people would enjoy them even more, if there were no harmonies attached. The entire instrumental music of Japan, partakes of a tinkling character, suggestive of a music box.

Secular singing is an indispensable adjunct of banqueting and feasting. These are frequently enlivened by songs and the sound of stringed instruments.[167]

The Japanese have a great penchant for excursions, banquets and lively enjoyments; they have been, not inaptly, called the “Parisians of the West;” hence it is not surprising to find houses of entertainment scattered broadcast throughout the realm. In these tea houses, every kind of dissipation, from the most innocent, to the reverse, is found, often under the same roof. The most aristocratic of these resorts, have a numerous staff of attendants, among which are singers, dancers, and guitar-players. Although these establishments appear disreputable in European eyes, yet the Japanese gentleman does not hesitate to take his wife and children thither, for a pleasure jaunt. When we consider that the Japanese are the most careful people in the world regarding the education and behavior of their wives and children, we cannot attribute this seeming incongruity to negligence.

In tea houses of an inferior rank, when female dancers and musicians are not among the assistants, they may be sent for, and engaged by the hour. These women never enter the lower class of tea-houses, unless thus sent for. In this respect, as well as by the correctness of their behavior, they are to be distinguished from the lower order of street musicians and dancers at fairs. These are not allowed to perform in private houses; the law compels them to confine their music to such places as are subject to police regulations. Theatres being included in this category, they often appear there, at the request of performers in the plays, in order to figure in the ballet.[168]

In Yeddo, many of the tea houses are built along the banks of the river; and in this case, they have large family boats or gondolas attached, which they let out by the hour, to such parties (and there are many) as desire to take their recreation upon the water. Guitar players and refreshments are furnished with these boats.

The lower classes are passionately fond of listening to story tellers and singers, and these, as in other Eastern countries, give open air performances, trusting to their ability to delight their audience, for a voluntary recompense.

Every day at the close of working hours, one may see groups of artizans, and laborers, as well as many women of the working classes, either at the door of the workshop or at a street corner, arranged in a semi-circle around the story-teller.

National legends and romances are usually given only by those women who have made a profession of music and singing. This branch of street singers forms a large class; they are less roving than the others, and sometimes of rather a high order of talent, as compared with their more itinerant associates. The most distinguished of them have three or four musicians as accompanists, and do not themselves play upon any instrument. The effect of these combinations is said sometimes to be very charming, when heard and seen on a summer’s evening, in a light bamboo frame work, hung round with vines, and lighted with paper lanterns.

Humbert has given the subject of some of these legendary songs, and they are found to be of a most sensational description. A few examples will suffice to prove this.

“Asahina-Sabro charges a troop of enemies, and passes through them, lifting with his right hand, a soldier wearing a casque and cuirass, and spinning him round in the air, while with the left hand he kills two equally redoubtable warriors with one blow of his mace.”[169]

“Nitan-nosiro, the dauntless hunter, astride on the back of a gigantic wild boar, which has flung down, and trodden under its hoofs, all the companions of the hero, holds the furious monster between his knees, and plunges his cutlass into its shoulder.”

“Sonsige, one of the horsemen of the Mikado, finds his comrades squatting around a checker board; he spurs his horse, and with one bound, it stands in the centre of the board, as motionless as any bronze equestrian statue.”

“Tame-tomo desired to conquer the island of Fatsisis. As he mercifully desired to avoid bloodshed, he set about convincing the islanders that resistance was useless. He therefore summoned the two strongest men of the race of the Ainos (the ancient inhabitants of Japan) and, seated calmly upon a mass of rock, he presented his bow to them, holding it by the wood and ordering them to try and bend it. Each seized it with both hands, and setting their heels against the wood of the bow, they leaned back with all their weight, and pulled the string with all their strength. Every effort was in vain; the bow only yielded when Tame-tomo took it delicately between the finger and thumb of his right hand, and shot an arrow which was immediately lost in the clouds.”

It must be remembered, however, that these highly spiced romances are the especial pabulum of the lower classes; and it may be ranked considerably higher than the musical recreation of the working classes of China.

The laborers of Japan, sometimes sing while at their toil, in a measured but cheerful manner.[170] Before leaving the subject of Japanese songs, it may be interesting to note that in the days of Kæmpfer, the Japanese were as curious about our songs, as we are to hear those of barbaric nations; for the emperor and his court, insisted upon that grave historian dancing, and singing before them.[171] On one of these interesting occasions the historian basely deceived the imperial Japanese searcher after knowledge; for on being commanded to sing, he sang to the emperor, a love ditty, which “he had formerly composed for a lady, for whom he had a particular esteem;” and upon the emperor inquiring the meaning of the song, he answered that it was an ode of praise, in honor of the emperor and his court.[172] Let us hope that the Japanese will not lead our investigators astray in such a manner.

The court of Japan had, at that era, musicians attached to its service, though by no means on the grand scale of the Chinese court. The empress had her private band, consisting of players upon the birva, the koto, and the samsinn. Theatrical representations were sometimes added to music. A corps of young comedians played little operas, or executed character dances, some grave and slow, in which a long mantle was worn; others lively and playful, the dancers appearing suddenly and with appropriate movements, in the disguise of birds or butterflies.

The court ladies had their private boxes at the theatre and at the circus of wrestlers; many of these customs still exist at the Japanese court but not with the spirit and life of former days.

Processional music is, in Japan, similar to that described in “Chinese Music,” noisy and distressing; but it is by no means so generally used as in China. In some processions it is not present at all. The emperor formerly appears to have had no music in his pompous cavalcades, for a description of one of these pageants (written in the seventeenth century), thus concludes:

“It is at the same time in the utmost silence that the procession proceeds. No one is heard to speak a word. Neither the spectators in the streets, nor those who form the procession, make the least noise. It can only be perceived by the sound of men’s footsteps, and the tramping of horses.”[173]

At the ecclesiastical processions, which take place on days devoted to special Kami, (similar to the saints days of Europe), and called Matsouri, the music consists of the fifes, drums, and gongs of the bonzery. Of course these processions vary in proportion to the popularity of the special Kami or saint. The greatest Matsouri which takes place at Yeddo, is that given in honor of Zinmou, the founder of the empire. Even those who do not believe in Kami-worship, attend this feast to show respect to their country, and it has become a patriotic as well as religious occasion. Over a million of spectators, annually view this procession. In the ranks appear an image of the patron of sacred dancing, borne on a large drum; and the sacred gong of the priests. The band on this occasion is large, and flutes, trumpets, big drums, cymbals, gongs, and tambourines are among the instruments carried. The expenses of the lesser Matsouri are often defrayed by the people of a street or quarter which is specially devoted to the Kami in whose honor it is held.

Many of the customs above alluded to are sensibly losing their hold on the populace, since the recent introduction of our civilization; this is especially the case with such customs as come under government surveillance. The military music for example, has been remodelled on the European plan; regimental bands in French style (that is with a preponderance of drums), are now attached to the Japanese national army. The trumpet calls are said to be played with much aptitude by the Japanese performers, but in the matter of time-keeping by the band, and keeping step to the music by the soldiers, exactness is yet far from being attained.[174] In the theatre and its music, there is, as yet, not so great a change from former days, yet there are many European customs to be found there (though probably not all derived from Europe), and the theatre differs from that of China, in having a curtain in front of the stage; in being often built upon a permanent site; and in other particulars.

The plays although sometimes quite as minute in details as the Chinese, are much shorter, lasting usually about two hours; and are often much wittier.

There has been a peculiar manner of presenting these plays; if five plays are to be performed in one day, the following mode has sometimes been adopted.[175]

The performers go through the first act of the first play, then the first act of the second play, and so on until the five first acts have been given. They then take the second act of each play in succession, and so on, until all the last acts are given. The object of this custom is to enable spectators to see one act, go away, and come again in time for the next act.

Often, however, the spectators remain throughout the entire day, and in that case refreshments are openly consumed. It is also thought correct for ladies to change their dress as often as possible during the day, so that there is as much change of costume, in front of the stage as upon it. In the Japanese comedies there is generally a large amount of love making. The tragedies deal chiefly with the exploits of the mythological heroes, and are expressed in verse, sometimes declaimed, sometimes sung.[176] The terrific combat is an acknowledged essential of this order of plays.[177]

The effect of the martial scenes is much increased by a bass drum, called “taiko” (after a celebrated ancient warrior), which is sometimes played with a smaller one called “kakko.”[178]

The building where these plays take place is very plain. The theatre at Matsmai, the capital city of the Island of Jesso, is thus described.[179]

“It is a large and pretty high building; at the back is a stage which with us, has a raised floor. From the stage to the front wall, where the entrance is situated, two rows of seats are placed for the spectators. In the middle where we have the pit, there is a vacant space in which straw mats are laid down for the spectators. As this space is much lower than the stage, those in front do not intercept the view from those behind. Opposite the stage, where in our theatre the galleries and chief boxes are situated there are only a bare wall, and the door for entrance.

There were no ornaments in the interior; the walls were not even painted. The dresses and decorations are kept in a separate building.”

In Yeddo this is far different and keeps more pace with civilization, and, as Yeddo supplies the surrounding provinces with both actors and plays, the change is spreading throughout the empire. The plays begin at six or seven, P. M., and last (without the before-mentioned alternations) until one or two o’clock in the morning. Theatres are exceedingly numerous in the city; each has its own arms or design, by which it is called; and these are painted upon banners and lanterns, which are hung from a tower upon the roof of each establishment. We give as complement to the above description of the Matsmai theatre, the following picture of a leading theatre at Yeddo.

“The interior of the theatre forms a long square. There are two ranges of galleries, the upper containing the best places in the theatre. Numbers of ladies are to be seen there in full dress, that is to say, covered up to their eyes in crape dresses and silk mantles.[180] The whole of the remainder of the house is occupied exclusively by men.

The floor of the house as seen from a distance, resembles a draught board. It is divided into compartments containing from eight to twelve places each, most of which are hired by the year by the citizens who take their children regularly to the play. There are no lobbies. Every one walks to his place on the planks which enclose the compartments at the height of the spectators’ shoulders, who squat on their heels, or crouch on little stools. There is neither a ladder nor staircase, by which to get down into the midst of them. The men hold out their arms to the women and children. The settling of the audience in its place forms a very picturesque part in the preliminaries of the representation. Tobacco and refreshments are served during the whole evening by koskeis, or servants, along the before-mentioned gang planks. On two sides of the pit are two bridges of planks, which also communicate with the boards of the stage; the first is nearest to one of the doors; the second, which is four planks wide, forms an angle with the extremity of the boxes. On this bridge certain heroic or tragic comic personages perform their part, and the ballet is danced. The house is lit by paper lanterns tied to the galleries; there is no chandelier from the roof, which is perfectly flat, the cupola being unknown in Japanese architecture. Large lanterns are however, sometimes held up to the roof, in order to light up the performance of the acrobats, especially that of the ‘flying men,’ who cross the theatre by means of cleverly contrived mechanism.

The curtain which hangs before the stage, is ornamented by a gigantic inscription in Chinese characters, and surmounted by a target with an arrow in the centre. This is a symbol of the talent and tact which the actors are about to display, and signifies that they expect to ‘hit the bull’s eye’ of the audience’s wishes.”[181]

The performance generally lasts till one o’clock A. M., and usually consists of a comedy, a tragedy, an opera with a ballet, and two or three interludes of acrobats, wrestlers and jugglers.

The tragedy we have already partly described as of a mythological sensational type. In the comedy it is often customary for the audience to address the actors, and the latter answer in kind; thus frequently a brisk fire of repartee is kept up which delights the audience far more than the play itself. It is very rare in any of these pieces that more than two actors are upon the stage together. In the ballet the performers are richly attired, and sometimes wear several dresses of light silk, one above the other; as they dance they detach a few of these vestments and allow them to hang from their waist, a cloud of airy texture seemingly voluminous, but in reality very light.[182] The Japanese plays are sometimes preceded by a prologue in which much of the action is described (a la Greek chorus) but not the denouement.[183] The performance of the jugglers is most to the popular taste, for it is not unusual to find the restaurants (with which each theatre is surrounded, and which cater to the same class of custom) quite crowded during the entire performances, but the moment that the gong gives the signal for the commencement of the juggling, they are at once deserted, every one hastening back to his seat in the theatre. The principal parts of the performance are announced not with a bell or with music, but by striking a small wooden stick upon the stage.

Sometimes the actors pass through the audience on their way to the stage, in order to give the spectators an opportunity to admire their appearance and costume, as closely as possible.[184] The appearance of infernal personages on the stage is always accompanied with lightning.

The principal characters of the drama are accompanied on the stage by a couple of attendants, each carrying a long stick at the end of which is a lighted candle. The use of these candles is amusing; they show to the audience what they ought to admire. If the actor’s facial expression be peculiar, his attitude graceful, his dress fine, or his weapons elegant, the candle is at once held to the part, to attract attention.

With regard to the literary merit of the Japanese drama, not enough is yet known whereon to base a detailed analysis, but it is safe to say that the art is yet in its infancy. It is singular, that, while we regard some of the situations in their plays as exceedingly indelicate, they, on their part, condemn our drama as totally immoral, and would not tolerate such plays as “Hamlet,” “School for Scandal,” etc.

The key to the enigma is this,—they allow every license to unmarried ladies, but the married state is with them inviolable. They therefore tranquilly witness plays which would put “Camille” to the blush, but allow nothing which involves post-marital intrigue. Some of their actors are quite skillful; there is one at present upon the Yeddo stage, who performs the part of a man possessed with the soul of a cat, and the blending of human and feline character is said to be marvelous.

The caste of actors, as in China, is rather low; the comedians being in least repute. Although the theatre is so well patronized, yet it is only by the middle and lower classes; very few aristocrats even of the lesser nobility ever attending, and these even disguise themselves.

Of course, it was to be imagined that the Jesuits would not (at the time of their mission in Japan) neglect so straight a road to the popular attention, as the drama. In their church at Nagasaki (more than two centuries ago), they represented a play in the style of the mediæval miracle plays, representing the birth of Christ. The parts were taken by the neophites and native students at the college of the order. Everything passed off in the best possible manner, as well in the appointments of the theatre, as in the ease and smoothness of the acting, and it would have been applauded in any European theatre.[185]

It may be interesting to the reader to peep into the green room of a Japanese theatre, during performance. It is thus described,—

“In these places none but men are to be seen, excepting from time to time some servants, or the artists’ wives who bring refreshments to their husbands, or come to give the last touch to their toilet before they go on the stage in the costume of either sex. In the midst of the general disorder we find some very characteristic groups. Here are musicians occupied in refreshing themselves, and indifferent to everything else until the signal to return to their posts shall reach them; there, two actors are rehearsing together the attitudes and gestures which in a few moments are to delight the spectators; and another sitting on his heels, before a looking glass placed upon the floor, is painting his face and adjusting his feminine head-dress. A young devil beside him, has thrown back his mask, with his horns and mane over his shoulders and is fanning himself, while the chief of the wrestlers, is tranquilly smoking his pipe, in the midst of the acrobats.

Among the crowd, carpenters are coming and going, carrying the screens and partitions for the next scene; the machinist is working a trap through which a whirlwind of flame is about to escape; and the piece is going on outside to the accompaniment of drum beating, amid the conversation of the public in the house, and that of the disengaged actors.”[186]

Such briefly, is the condition of music and the drama in Japan, but such astounding changes are taking place throughout every part of the life of this enterprising people, that a description which is appropriate at present, may be a record of past customs, ten years hence. Already there is a tendency in upper circles towards Western music, but this may be rather a result of fashion (which is being rapidly Europeanized) rather than of genuine appreciation; even the present empress of Japan has, it is said, a real taste for European music and instruments. She is a good performer upon the piano-forte.

As with the Chinese, the customs in general of the Japanese are at total variance with our own; to show respect we take off our hat, they their shoes. We get up, they sit down, (it is the height of impoliteness to receive a visitor standing.)[187]

We turn the back as a mark of incivility, they as a token of respect;[188] their mixture of the truest modesty with the greatest license, must ever remain an enigma to us. Since then, we cannot in other respects, judge this remarkable people, it behooves us, in the field of music, to study them without preconceived ideas of the art. That music is in an undeveloped state with them, is undoubtedly true; the absence of treatises and system proves it; but what direction the art will take in its development can only be settled by time. That it will not remain stationary in the midst of change, is a foregone conclusion.

CHAPTER XVIII.
MUSIC OF SAVAGE NATIONS.

The music of savage tribes, should properly begin a chronological account of the music of the world. It can scarce be doubted that the strains which to-day delight the ears of the rudest peoples, were similar to those which gave pleasure to the uncultivated denizens of the earth in pre-historic times. The scientific inquirer, even to-day, finds unexpected points of resemblance in music of nations and tribes, separated from each other in distance, custom, climate and religion; resemblances which are so numerous that they can only be accounted for by the hypothesis that the strains have come down from an earlier, homogeneous race. Of course the earliest efforts of primitive man were rather rhythmical than musical, and even at present the music of the least civilized races is altogether rhythmical. The ease of the discovery that a regular clapping of the hands, or stamping of the feet, or striking two pieces of wood together, could produce a pleasing effect, is so apparent that it puts all discussion as to the origin of music, out of sight; a fortunate occurrence, since there are enough points of dispute yet left for our wiseacres to contend over.

The discovery of drums and horns also came almost directly from nature; and here the musical instruments of primitive man stopped; and here also (in drums, clappers of wood, and trumpets) the catalogue of musical instruments, of the more savage peoples, of the present, ceases.

But among the more advanced tribes of savages, we shall find instruments that will cause us to coincide with Solomon’s opinion, that “there is nothing new under the sun.”

With these, who did not stop contented at the rude percussion and trumpet instruments, the next step was probably to cut reeds of various lengths and to discover that the length regulated the tone. Here was the first real discovery in music, for no sooner were high and deep tones known than pleasant alternations would suggest themselves, and as a consequence, melodies (however uncouth) sprang into being. Possibly at the same mystic era, the tension of the sinews of some animal, left exposed to the breeze, would fore-shadow string music. Then a thought was required to find that the sounds varied with tension of the sinews, and that a frame on which several threads and sinews were extended in different degrees of tension, could be made to give the same variety of tones, but of different quality of sound (timbre) from the reed pipes. This already made demands upon the inventive faculties, and in the infancy of music, as in the modern orchestra, stringed instruments take the lead.[189]

It is improbable, however, that all nations went the same road in these discoveries. Accident had much to do with it. The conch shell, among a tribe near the sea, the horn, with a hunting people, and, with people situated near the bamboo forests, the “pans pipes,” would be the first of instruments. Instruments of the order of flutes, were also of easy fabrication, and the knowledge that they are so wide-spread among savages all the world over, is internal evidence that they were “natural” instruments.

Without sketching further the probable progress of musical invention, we shall now describe some of the instruments and songs used by the people of the world who are yet in a state of nature. But first let us mention some instruments, which have been handed down to us from an immensely remote and ante-civilized period.

The antiquarians in classifying the progress of pre-historic races from their earliest emergence from barbarism, have called that age, when the use of metal became first known,—the Bronze Age; as at that time smelting not being known, the use of iron was not understood, and metal implements were fashioned of copper, which could be beaten by the hammer (of stone) into the required shape, even when cold.

Of this mysterious epoch, a most interesting relic has been discovered, in the shape of a musical instrument. In a sepulchre, in a deep ravine, in Schleswig, were found very recently, a number of ornaments of bronze and gold (silver as well as iron, was not then used), and also the horns of many oxen. In the midst of this, lay a very large trumpet of bronze; a sure token of the existence of manufactured musical instruments, thousands of years ago. This unique instrument when blown, gives forth a deep, grave, and sonorous tone. In common with all the barbarian trumpets, it has but one tone. It is at present in the Museum of Copenhagen, but was exhibited at the Paris Exposition of 1867.[190]

The second of these instruments is more ancient still. The age preceding the knowledge of the uses of metal by early man, is called the Stone Age. At this period the rude implements of use and ornament were made either of soft substances, such as wood, ivory, and horn, or else of stone. Even in this crude epoch, instrumental music seems to have existed, and not in its rudest form, for a specimen has fortunately been preserved, which, if authenticated fully, will show a degree of musical taste at a most unexpected period. In an ancient dolman, or sepulchre near Poictiers was found a partly completed flute made of a stag’s horn. The distances of the holes, and shape of the mouth-piece, show an aptitude of construction and an experience in acoustics; but the instrument evidently belongs to the later period of the Stone Age.

But the third instrument is more interesting yet. It was discovered by M. Lartet in a ravine, along with bones of animals now extinct in France. It is also a flute (straight, and with mouth piece), with finger holes.[191] It is made of the bone of a reindeer, which seems a proof positive of its being made at a time when the climate and zoology of France were totally different from the present. From the skulls found in tombs and caves of this period, it appears impossible that man could have been developed sufficiently at that time to construct an article of pleasure, such as this. The skulls are said to greatly resemble those of the present natives of Australia. Yet their possessors must have had a vastly superior intelligence to the latter.

It is no great leap in fact, although it may be in time, to leave the savages of our own ancient race, and describe the musical customs of the savages of another, and inferior one. Therefore, we will leave the discussion of the above three instruments and their makers to Anthropological and Ethnological societies, and pass on to the examination of the barbarian of the present age.

One of the most curious facts in savage music is to be found in New Zealand. It is almost universally conceded that harmony was unknown to Europeans until the tenth century; yet in New Zealand for unknown ages, a combination of simple thirds in a short vocal strain[192] has been known. It only illustrates the assertion of the force of accident, in the rise of music.

Here was a savage tribe of cannibals who came upon a most important musical idea (to be sure, in a crude state, but still the germ of the Harmonic theory) probably long before its acceptance among civilized nations.

Another strange savage song is that which was sung by the aborigines of Canada, at the time of Cartier’s taking possession in the name of the King of France (A. D. 1537). The curious fact here, was not in the music, but in the words, in as much as the word “Alleluia” occurred in it. This strange coincidence made some early writers conclude that the inhabitants were Hebrews,[193] probably the lost tribes; it is needless to say, that the surmise, was not borne out by any further researches.

In describing the music of barbarian races, we find that its sister art, dancing, is closely connected with it, and that it is impossible to separate the two. In the lowest tribes, the dance is the most prominent part of the musical efforts of the people. The Australians, who are considered, from the conformation of their skulls, and legs, to be nearest to the brute creation, have many interesting dances. The most important of these is the “Cobbongo Corrobboree,” or great mystery dance. It is performed by the inhabitants of the far interior of the island. We subjoin the account of a witness of this event.

The time selected for this great event is every twelfth moon, and during her declination. For several days previous, a number of tribes, whose territories adjoin one another, congregate at a particular spot, characterised by an immense mound of earth, covered with ashes (known amongst the white inhabitants as “a black’s oven”), and surrounded by plenty of “couraway” or water holes.

To this place, they bring numbers of kangaroos, possums, emus, and wild ducks, and a large quantity of wild honey, together with a grass from the seed of which they make a sort of bread.

“Upon the evening on which the ‘corrobboree’ is celebrated, a number of old men (one from each tribe) called ‘wammaroogo,’ signifying medicine-men, or charm-men, repair to the top of the mound, where, after lighting a fire they walk round it, muttering sentences, and throwing into it portions of old charms which they have worn round their necks for the past twelve months.”

“This is continued for about half an hour, when they descend, each carrying a fire-stick, which he places at the outskirts of the camp, and which is supposed to prevent evil spirits from approaching. As soon as this is over, during which a most profound silence is observed by all, the men of the tribe prepare their toilets for the ‘corrobboree,’ daubing themselves over with chalk, red ochre, and fat.”[194]

“While the men are thus engaged, the gentler sex are busy arranging themselves in a long line, and in a sitting posture, with rugs made of possum skins, wound round their legs, and a small stick called ‘mulla mulla’ in each hand. A fire is lit in front of them, and tended by one of the old charmers. As the men are ready, they seat themselves, cross-legged, like tailors, and in regular serried file, at the opposite side of the fire to the women, while one of the medicine-men takes up his position at the top of the mound, to watch the rising of the moon which is the signal for ‘corrobboree.’”

All is now still; nothing disturbs the silence, save the occasional jabber of a woman or child, and even that, after a few minutes, is hushed. The blaze of the fire throws a fitful light along the batallion-like front of the black phalanx, and the hideous faces, daubed with paint and smeared with grease, show out at such a moment to anything but advantage. As soon as the old gentleman who has been “taking the lunar” announces the advent of that planet, which seems to exercise as great an influence over the actions of these people, as over many of those amongst ourselves, the “corrobboree” commences.

“The women beat the little sticks together,[195] keeping time to a peculiar monotonous air, and repeating the words, the burden of which may be translated in this manner,—

‘The kangaroo is swift,

But swifter is Ngoyulloman;

The snake is cunning,

More cunning is Ngoyulloman, etc.’

Each woman using the name of her husband, or favorite in the tribe.”

“The men spring to their feet with a yell that rings through the forest, and brandishing their spears, and boomerangs commence their dance, flinging themselves into all sorts of attitudes, howling, laughing, grinning, and singing; and this they continue until sheer exhaustion compels them to desist, after which they roast and eat the product of the chase gathered for the occasion, and then drop off to sleep one by one.”[196]

We have already expressed our opinion that the dance (pantomimic) first sprang into existence when some savage finding his own limited language (perhaps even, he had none) inadequate to describe to his companions, some deed of hunting or war which he had performed, reproduced the feat in actions, to give a more perfect understanding of it. If song be as old as speech, dancing may be said to be as old as gestures.

We are not surprised, therefore, to find among the Australians, dances which represent such events. In the “frog dance,” the performers paint themselves as usual, and then, squatting upon their haunches, jump around in a circle imitating the motions of the frog. The “Emu dance” represents the chase after that swift running bird. The performer who takes the part of the Emu, imitates its fleet, long strides, and gives out the low rattling drumming sound which is the bird’s only note.

In the “canoe dance” men and women stationed in two lines, imitate the graceful motions of paddling a canoe.

There is a dance “with partners” prevalent in the southern part of Australia. Both sexes participate in it. Each man carries a belt of possum skin, or human hair, which he keeps stretched tight, holding one end in each hand. The men all sit down in a circle while a woman takes her place in the middle; one of the men then dances up to her, jumping from side to side, and swaying his arms in harmony with his movements. The woman also begins swaying and jumping in time with him, as he approaches her, and after a short pas de deux they dance back to their places, while the centre is occupied by a fresh couple.

A strange dance was celebrated by the Tasmanians at each full moon. The various tribes assembled at some trysting place, and while the women prepared the fire, and fenced off a space for the dance, the men retired to adorn themselves with paint, and to fasten branches of bushy twigs to their ankles, wrists and waists. The women being seated at the front of the space, one of the oldest among them, strode forward, calling by name, one of the performers, whom she reviled as a coward, and challenged to come forward and meet her charge, and answer it.

The warrior was swift enough in his response, and, bounding through the fire, into the circle, he recounted his deeds of valor in both chase and war. At every pause he made, his female admirers took up the list of his praises, vaunting his actions in a sort of chant which they accompanied with extemporized drums, made of rolled kangaroo skins.

“Suddenly upon some inspiring allegro movement of the thumping hand, thirty or forty grim savages would hound successively through the furious flames, into the sacred arena, looking like veritable demons on a special visit to terra firma; and, after thoroughly exhausting themselves, by leaping in imitation of the kangaroo, around and through the fire, they vanish in an instant. After this, the old lady who was the origination of all the hubbub, gave a signal, upon which, all the females rose, and quite unadorned, gave a series of acrobatic performances around the fire, that were strange and wonderful to behold. The main point being however, with each of them, to outscream her sister singers.”[197]

In the dances of Australia and Tasmania, only the rudest instruments of percussion are used, and the chants are not musical, though sometimes (rarely) the attitudes are graceful. A far more musical and poetical people, are the New Zealanders who as we have already mentioned, intuitively knew of harmony before the Europeans. Many of their love, war, and religious songs have real sentiments of beauty in them, and the gift of improvising poems and songs is much prized among them. Singular to state, they (unlike all other savage races) do not use the drum in their accompaniment. The pahu (drum) is only used by them to give military signals.[198] Their chief instrument is the flute, which is usually made from a human thigh bone; often that of a fallen enemy. When this is the case, the instrument is more than ordinarily prized, and is worn around the neck. It is played through the nose, by placing the nostril against the aperture, and blowing; stopping the other nostril with the finger.

The native New Zealander sings in all his sports and labours, and in spite of his penchant for human flesh, is of a light and joyous temperament. Every incident of war, chase or love is commemorated by an extemporized song. Sometimes these songs live for generations after their signification has passed away; and thus it is, that in many of the songs of this people, words are found, of which, neither the singers nor audience understand the meaning. One song (E’Haka) is accompanied with much mimicry; when giving this, the performers sit down in a circle, throw off their upper mats, and sing in concert, making meanwhile the wildest of gestures, and turning up their eyes so that only their whites are visible.

Their canoe song is very animating, and is often accompanied by the primitive nose flute mentioned above.

The words (improvised) are such as “pull away! pull away! pull away.” “Dig into the water.” “Break your backs,” etc., and are shouted with stentorian lungs, but not unmusically.

But their greatest song and dance is the war-dance. In this they far excel all other savage tribes the world over. Their movements although extremely violent, are made with a precision and unity, to which all other races are strangers. A description of this unique performance speaks of it as follows.

“They begin by smearing the whole of their clothing and painting their faces with scarlet ochre, so as to make themselves as hideous as possible. When they assemble for the dance they arrange themselves in lines usually three deep, and excite their naturally passionate dispositions to the highest pitch by contorting their faces, and thrusting out their tongues as an act of defiance, interspersing these gestures with shouts, yells and challenges to the enemy. The dance itself begins with stamping the feet in perfect time with each other, the vigor of the stamp increasing continually, and the excitement increasing in similar proportion. Suddenly with a yell, the whole body of men leap sideways into the air, as if actuated by one spirit, and as they touch the ground, come down on it with a mighty stamp that makes the earth tremble. The war song is raised, and in accordance with its rhythm, the men leap from side to side, each time coming down with a thud, as of some huge engine.”[199]

The New Zealander often entertains himself with sham fights,[200] but nothing has so intense an effect upon him as the music and action of this rhythmic war-dance. Even when actual war is not impending, he will enter into it with a vigor that is terrible. It transforms him for the time into a monomaniac, and absorbs his whole nature; even when the dance is given in honor of a stranger, it is dangerous to go too near the Maori (native New Zealander) until he has become more tranquil.

On one occasion a party of New Zealanders, visiting a European ship, were requested to give an exhibition of their war-dance on board. They did so, beginning without much excitement, but gradually their leaps became so fierce and powerful that the captain was afraid that they would break the deck; he begged of them to desist, but in vain; he might as well have spoken to a whirlwind. His voice was drowned in the shouts and singing of the frenzied warriors. The chief of the party, showed the influence of its charms, in a ludicrous manner:—

He had been presented on his arrival, with a full suit of naval uniform, and he stalked around the deck, in all the dignity of new clothes. He cheerfully allowed his followers to begin the war-dance, but he himself looked on with conscious dignity; but after the excitement had continued a few minutes, he too was drawn into its vortex. At first a gentle swaying of his body, in time with the music was all: then a little sotto voce singing, then he joined in the rhythm stamping, and finally, forgetting his new finery, he sprang into line and danced more enthusiastically than any of them; so much so, that the clothes soon split, and at the end of the dance he presented a very seedy appearance. It is needless to say that the dance could not in any way be checked, and found its conclusion only when all the dancers were reduced to a state of complete exhaustion.

With all savage people, song, dance and poetry are indissolubly united; a fact which goes far to prove the “naturalness” of the old Greek music. In the Malaysian archipelago we find a similar style of music, to that described above; but we find the natural instrument of barbarians, the drum, far more plentifully used.

The Javanese have two kinds of drums, both made of copper, but differing in size and pitch. The sound is like that of a distant bell, and as they are used in sets, the compass often reaches an octave. The larger set, called Salendro contains but five tones in this interval; the general effect of this set is major. The smaller set, called Pelog, contains seven drums to the octave, and is minor in style. The natives themselves speak of the Salendro as being masculine, and the Pelog as being more tender and feminine in its effect.

The songs of Java (as also of other islands in the Malay archipelago) are strongly suggestive of the Scotch popular ballads, and can readily be reproduced in our scale.

It is not customary to sing the written poems, with an instrumental accompaniment unless there is dancing simultaneously. As in French poetry and song, many letters, usually mute, are sounded, so in the Javanese much license of pronunciation is allowed in song, which would be condemned in prose. There are some traces of inflection and accent, altering the meaning of a word; thus “boten” signifies “no,” but when the accent is placed on the first syllable, it signifies a haughty or peremptory refusal, but when on the latter, a mild and regretful one.

The Javanese have three styles of musical compositions, the great, medium, and lesser. The latter is used for the popular songs, the former for the higher flights of poetry.

Very often one can hear an old native, on a holiday occasion, singing of the great deeds of the ancient princes; the subjects of his ballads, are often borrowed from the babads, or popular legends of the country, and he accompanies himself with a species of stringed instrument. He sings of the glories and fall of the kingdom of Pad-jad-jaran, and praises and laments those royal heroes. Many of the love songs of the Malays are written in the form of question and answer, as follows,—

“Where do the swallows go to bathe?

They go to bathe in the forest brook.

What has my loved one promised to me?

She has promised to chat a little with me,” etc.

This questioning and answering is not confined to their music, for the Javanese are passionately fond of conundrums.[201] The imagery of their poems and songs is of the simplest and most natural description, fields, flowers, trees, rivers, etc., appear ad infinitum in their literature.[202] Their early historical legends are full of Gods in human form, of giants, and miracles; somewhat resembling in this the Hindoo allegories.

Theatrical representations, of course form a large part of both Malaysian and Polynesian popular amusements. In Java, national history is preserved not only by the ballads, but by pantomimic representations; in the latter, little puppets made of leather, wood, or paper, and sometimes masked performers, appear. The performance is accompanied by orchestral music, certain stringed instruments of which are only played by women. Some of the representations are given at night behind a white curtain, and resemble what, with us, are called, “shadow pantomimes;” these are performed mostly by females, and often last all night, breaking up, at times, as late as six in the morning.

At all Javanese fetes, music is played, and every native is expected to entertain such wandering musicians as apply to him. A refusal is apt to cost dearly, as the irate musicians stone the dwelling of the obdurate one.[203]

M. Scherzer, connected with the Austrian Round-the-world expedition in 1857 (in the frigate Novara), was not highly delighted with the Javanese pantomime dancing and music;[204] he says:

“Conversation was carried on with difficulty, for an incessant and stupefying noise was kept up with the gammelong, or orchestra of bells. Bayaderes, very scantily clothed, and excessively ugly, executed sentimental and religious dances of a most tedious description.

Stiff, slow, and thin, these damsels jumped like forks, with motions as graceful as those of old semaphores. The governor was kind enough to explain to us, that the dance was meant to represent the touching history of four sisters, who, lost in the forest, implored from the divinity the return of their mother.

This was followed by another choregraphic entertainment, a dance of eight warriors, accompanied by the perpetual gammelong. The same delectable music, delighted the ears of those who were without in the court-yard. Hideous masks, on foot and on horseback, circulated there amidst the crowd; a Mussulman priest was also howling fearfully, as he danced on hot ashes, near to a mass of burning wood; others jumped in and danced away frantically. At last the priest himself joined them, and the shouts and gesticulations became furious. This representation had probably some signification of religious expiation, at least it would have been deemed as such in ancient mysteries.”

After this followed conjuring tricks of a wonderful, though sanguinary description, “and then the infernal gammelong began again.” Then came excellent fireworks. “At last the gammelong ceased its stunning noise.”

During Captain Cook’s voyage round the world, Banks and Solander, two of his best associates witnessed (A. D. 1769) a pantomime in one of the Society islands. It was of a comic nature, and contained music and dancing. The subject was the adventures of a thief, including his capture.[205] In Cook’s second voyage, Forster observed a comic opera in the Society islands, which appear closely allied to the above. Actors and actresses appeared in this play, the first act of which concluded with a burlesque beating of three of the participants. The commencement of the second act was announced by the musicians beating their drums.[206]

In the Tonga islands, the actors of these musical dramas recite sentences which are answered by a chorus of singers. There is a great variety in their movements and groupings. Occasionally they sing slowly, and afterwards quickly for about a quarter of an hour. Sometimes they form a semi-circle, assume a bending position, and sing in a subdued tone of voice, a soft air, which is soon followed again by a loud and vehement declamation.

It is a singular fact that some of the races most addicted to cannibalism are also much addicted to music. We have seen this already in the case of the New Zealanders; it will be fully as apparent with the most cannibalistic race of the globe,—the Fiji Islanders. With them, music teaching is a remunerative art, and any one who has composed a new song or dance, can earn a large quantity of goods by teaching it. Their musical instruments are poor and few; they consist of pipes, flutes, drums, and trumpets. The trumpets are merely conch shells, blown through an aperture in the side.

The flutes are nose-flutes, played by putting the aperture under one nostril, closing the other with the thumb of the left hand, and blowing. The pipes are a species of pandean pipes made of bamboo.

The dances are very carefully got up, and more resemble military movements than dances, the similitude being increased by the martial array of the dancers, who are all dressed as if for war, their faces painted with scarlet, their bodies powdered black, and their best clubs or spears in their hands. They execute intricate manœuvres, marching in various figures, wheeling, halting, and stamping their feet in exact time to the rhythm of the song, and the beat of the drum.

Sometimes several hundred men are engaged in the dance, while the musicians are twenty or thirty in number. The scene at one of these dances is very picturesque, but it wants the furious energy, which gives such fiery animation to the war-dance of the New Zealanders; the movements, though correct in point of time, being comparatively dull and heavy. In order to enliven it a little more, a professional buffoon is usually introduced upon the scene, who performs sundry grotesque movements, and is usually applauded for his exertions. Music and dancing are always used at the celebration of a marriage.[207] Mr. Seeman in a recent work[208] says of the entertainment called Kalau Rere, that, “with its high poles, streamers, evergreens, [these cannibals are very tasty in their personal adornments, wreaths of flowers, evergreens, etc., being much used], masquerading, trumpet shells, chants, and other wild music, is the nearest approach to dramatic representation, the Fijians seem to have made, and it is with them, what private theatricals are with us. Court fools, in many instances hunchbacks, are attached to the chief’s establishment.”

The music of the remaining races of Oceanica, does not differ very materially from the above-described forms. Many of the instruments found in use among the Malays, have had their origin in China and India,[209] and therefore the description of them has not been made so minute as that of the instruments of those countries. Summed up briefly, we find that the taste for rhythm is every where prevalent; for instruments of percussion, almost so, (the New Zealanders forming a notable exception here), and that the prevailing impulse of these races, on hearing rhythmic music, is to dance.

We now proceed to the examination of the music of another large division of the human race.

CHAPTER XIX.
AFRICAN MUSIC.

In describing the music of the natives of Africa, we will place in contrast the modes of the two extremes of the scale of intelligence.

The Kaffir is certainly as far in advance of the Bushman, as we are in advance of the native Indian. The Kaffir is peculiar in music; very deficient in melody, he is almost perfect in rhythm and time-keeping. He is fond of singing in company, and in fact is a rather convivial person altogether. At social meals, while the food is cooking, the guests often amuse themselves by singing together until the repast is in readiness. The subjects of the songs are various; love songs, and war songs being held in equal favor, but the Kaffir is always specially pleased with any song that relates to the possession of cattle; and being a cattle-owning people, they have many songs celebrating their favorite subject.

Many of the Kaffir’s musical effects would seem most ludicrous to us. Sudden contrasts, have, to him, a special attraction, and it is not unusual to hear him give the highest squeaks of falsetto, and the deepest bass grunts, alternately.

Loudness in singing is his great end and aim, and to effect sudden sforzando effects, he has a peculiar method, i. e.—the choruses of the songs are usually meaningless, being often a mere reiteration of the words e-e-e-yu (which may be called the African “fol de roi de ray”), and when, after shouting with full lungs on the e-e-e, the singer desires more power on the yu, he effects it by giving himself a sound thump in the ribs with his elbows; this produces a marked emphasis on the syllable, and the result, when two or three hundred singers do this simultaneously is startling. The Kaffir, contrary to our practise, sits down, when he sings.

One of their favorite songs, is used at husking festivals. “The dry heads of maize are thrown in a heap upon the hard and polished floor of the hut, and a number of Kaffirs sit in a circle round the heap, each being furnished with the ever useful knobkerry (a stick or club, very like a shillelagh, but with a knob at one end). One of them strikes up a song, and the others join in full chorus beating time with their clubs, upon the heads of the maize. This is a very exciting amusement for the performers, who shout the noisy chorus at the highest pitch of their lungs, and beat time by striking their knobkerries upon the grain. With every blow of the heavy club the maize grains are struck from their husks, and fly about the hut in all directions, threatening injury, if not absolute destruction to the eyes of all who are present in the hut. Yet the threshers seem to enjoy an immunity which seems to be restricted to themselves and blacksmiths; and while a stranger is anxiously shading his eyes from the shower of hard maize grains, the threshers themselves do not give a thought to the safety of their eyes, but sing at the top of their voices, pound away at the corn cobs, and make the grains fly in all directions, as if the chorus of the song were the chief object in life, and the preservation of their eyesight were unworthy of a thought.”[210]

The war-songs of the Kaffirs are fiery and exciting, though in a less degree than those of New Zealand.

Their poetry is full of metaphor, and alliterative enough to be admitted into the opera of the future. The participants sit in a circle, sometimes three or four deep, with their knees well drawn up, and sing, beating rhythmic accompaniment upon the ground, twirling their assagais (javelins), and occasionally enlivening the proceedings with an ear-piercing whistle, or deafening shout.

We give an English version (Mr. Shooter’s) of two of these, merely premising that much of the native beauty is said to be lost in the transposition to a foreign tongue.

PRAISE OF DINGAN.
A VERY CELEBRATED CHIEF.

“Thou needy offspring of Umpikazi

Eyer of the cattle of men,

Bird of Maube, fleet as a bullet,

Sleek, erect, of beautiful parts.

Thy cattle like the comb of bees.

O head too large, too huddled to move,

Devourer of Moselekatze, son of Machobana,

Devourer of Swazi, son of Sobuza,

Breaker of the gates of Machobana,

Devourer of Gundave of Machobana

A monster in size,[211] of mighty power,

Devourer of Ungwati of ancient race,

Devourer of the kingly Uomapé;

Like Heaven above, raining and shining.”

The other is an Alexandrian lament of the lack of nations to conquer. It is in honor of Tchaka, (a renowned warrior and chief).

“Thou hast finished, finished the nations!

Where will you go out to battle now?

Hey! Where will you go out to battle now?

Thou hast conquered kings!

Where are you going to battle now?

Thou hast finished, finished the nations!

Where are you going to battle now?

Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!!

Where are you going to battle now?”

From the extracts it will be seen that flattery is not confined to European courts; the Kaffir carries it still further, for in addition to his own proper name (which it is deemed ill omened to speak) everybody of any rank, receives a number of isi-bonges or praise-names, alluding to some action or peculiarity. It is customary on all formal occasions, to recite several of these isi-bonges, just as a European nobleman on official ceremonies desires to have all his titles proclaimed. In songs, of course, the invention of these is unlimited. Thus the great Panda, a renowned ruler of enormous fatness, is spoken of as,—

“A swallow which fled in the sky,”

“A swallow with a whiskered breast,”

“Ramrod of brass,”

“Thigh of the bullock of Inkakavini.”

“Thou art an Elephant.”

“Monarch who art black,” etc., etc.

Such songs of praise are sung with great relish by full choruses. Violent gestures are used to heighten the effect. The songs are in unison, no harmonic divisions being attempted.

The instruments of the Kaffir are few and crude; the whistle before mentioned, although giving but one tone, is a great favorite. It is so shrill that it can be heard above the wildest din of the ensemble.

A rude flute or flageolet is also sometimes used; but the most-used instrument, is a primitive harp with one string only, and whose tones though light and sweet can scarcely be heard at six yards distance. It is an ordinary bow with a string of twisted hair, and a hollow gourd attached at the centre of the wood to give resonance. A ring is passed along the string, to raise or lower the tone, which is produced by striking the cord with a short stick, or plectrum. The bow is about five feet long, and exactly resembles the usual weapon, which however is not used in war by the Kaffirs.

Although the resources of this instrument are so extremely limited, the musicians of this people are content to sit for hours, listening to its monotonous sound.

Let us now turn to the degraded black brother of the foregoing race, the Bushman. His amusements are two;—singing and dancing.

The dance of the Bushman is to European eyes a most uninteresting one; as there is scarcely any motion or gesture at all in it, save that which is made by one leg. Standing on one foot, the performer shakes the other, (to which a string of rattles, made from the ears of the spring-bok are attached) occasionally giving his body a twist, and singing vigorously all the while, changing the foot, however, from time to time.

The spectators keep the rhythm by a constant and regular clapping of hands and a monotonous singing.

A water-drum, which is merely a wooden bowl, into which a little water has been poured, and over which a skin is tightly drawn, is struck regularly in time with the movements of the dancer; the latter when partially exhausted, falls upon the floor, but still singing and kicking in time with the music; after a short rest of this description, he jumps up and continues as at first. When utterly exhausted, he retires among the spectators and unfastening his leg-rattles, hands them to the next dancer. The music to this odd performance is not in unison; the dancer sings one air, the spectators another, and the drum gives a species of “ground bass” to the whole.

While engaged in this interesting occupation of shaking one leg, the Bushman is completely oblivious of all other considerations, as if he were entranced. Discordant as the music seems to us when annotated by the travellers who have heard it, yet these same authorities are almost unanimous in declaring that the effect is extremely pleasant.

The most peculiar instrument of the Bushmen, is the goura, which is shaped like a bow, but has at one end of the string, a piece of quill inserted; this quill is blown upon in the same manner that we use a jew’s-harp. Women play upon this instrument, but hold it perpendicularly, and do not breathe upon it, but strike it with a stick, and then catch it up, quickly to their ear, to listen to the tones. When thus played, it is called, a joum-joum.

All the airs played upon this primitive instrument seem to come by chance rather than skill, and the performer never seems able to play the same tune twice. But the same or better music could be drawn from a much more compact and portable instrument; therefore the goura has now been almost superseded by a European competitor, and the favorite instrument of the African Bosjesman now is the Jew’s-harp.

They also possess a rude banjo-like instrument from which comparatively fair music could be produced, but the Bushmen are content to strum it without method, and take the music as fortune sends it. A drum completes the list of Bushman instruments; it is sometimes played with sticks and sometimes with the fist. It can be heard at a considerable distance.

In contrasting these two extremes of African races, it is singular to remark, that the superiority in music, if there be any, must be conceded to the lower race.

We find much that is curious and worthy of note in the music of those mysterious tribes of central Africa, who have so recently become known to us through the researches of Schweinfurth, Stanley, and Baker.

Among the best known of these tribes, may be mentioned the Nyam-Nyams, a set of most inveterate cannibals, whose very name comes from the sound of gnawing at food, and was given them on account of their man-eating propensities. Their chief musical instruments are mandolins or small harps of four strings each, drums (mostly of wood,) bells of iron, whistles and pipes. Many of these instruments are very symmetrically formed, and tastily carved, for in wood, iron, and clay designing the Nyam-Nyams are very expert. Schweinfurth thus describes their music,[212]—“They have an instinctive love of art. Music rejoices their very soul. The harmonies they elicit from their favorite instrument, the mandolin, seem almost to thrill through the chords of their inmost nature. The prolonged duration of some of their musical productions is very surprising.” Piaggia has remarked that he believed a “Nyam-Nyam would go on playing all day and all night, without thinking to leave off either to eat or to drink,” and although quite aware of the voracious propensities of the people, it seems very probable that he was right.

One favorite instrument there is, which is something between a harp and a mandolin. It resembles the former in the vertical arrangement of its strings, whilst in common with the mandolin, it has a sounding-board, a neck, and screws for tightening the strings.

The sounding board is constructed on strict acoustic principles. It has two apertures; it is carved out of wood, and on the upper side it is covered with a piece of skin; the strings are tightly stretched by means of pegs, and are sometimes made of fine threads of bast, and sometimes of the wiry hairs from the tail of the giraffe.

The music is very monotonous and it is difficult to distinguish any melody in it. It invariably is an accompaniment to a moaning kind of recitative which is rendered with a decided nasal intonation.

“I have not unfrequently seen friends marching about arm in arm, wrapt in the mutual enjoyment of the performance, and beating time to every note by nodding their heads.”

“There is a singular class of professional musicians who make their appearance decked out in the most fantastic way, with feathers, and covered with a promiscuous array of bits of wood and roots, and all the pretentious emblems of magical art, the feet of earth-pigs, the shell of tortoises, the beaks of eagles, the claws of birds, and teeth in every variety. Whenever one of this fraternity presents himself, he at once begins to recite all the details of his travels and experiences, in an emphatic recitative, and never forgets to conclude by an appeal to the liberality of his audience, and to remind them that he looks for a reward either of rings of copper, or of beads.”[213]

With some slight differences these men may be found throughout Africa; almost everywhere they are sought for and their talents enjoyed, but they themselves held in contempt. Among the Nyam-Nyams, their appellation in itself (“Nzangah”) implies contempt, being similar to that which is applied to despised and outcast women.

Contrary to the custom of almost all other savages, the Nyam-Nyams delight most in gentle music; some of the minstrels sing so softly that it is impossible to hear them a few yards off. The light Mandolin accompaniment is in good accord with this pianissimo style of music.

Their dances, given by male and female performers, are wonderfully swift, intricate and pleasant.

A great “Congo” or dance was given by some of these people to Col. C. Chaillé Long, an American officer on the staff of the Khedive of Egypt, who made a very interesting expedition to the Makraka Nyam-Nyams, and Lake Victoria Nyanza in 1874. He thus describes the scene:—[214]

“Invitations had been sent to all the Nyam-Nyam lasses, who came even from as far as Parafio, and did honor to the occasion by brightening up their copper and iron fastenings, and in putting on fresh fig leaves. The loose bands that encased their ankles, kept perfect time in loud clanking sound to music really euphonious, and of a symphony that my unmusical ear I regret cannot translate here, evoked from a Sinon-like wooden horse, that was beaten on its sides with drum-sticks, or by parallel banana trees that were traversed by different sized pieces of dry wood, upon which several performers beat successively.

This musical instrument, as well as drums and horns, the latter made of Elephants’ tusks, were very similar to those I had seen at Ugunda....

The Sheik, a robust, powerfully developed man, led his brave warriors in the dance, holding in his hand, a curiously-shaped sword, his insignia of office, whilst the round little forms of hundreds of Nyam-Nyam maidens followed, each with giddy swiftness as the “cancan” fantasia became fast and furious. The festivity continued until the ‘wee sma hours’ of the morning.”

The trumpets of the Nyam-Nyam are more generally used as war signals than as musical instruments; they are blown through a hole in the side, and not at the end; therefore the mode of performing upon them, rather resembles our style of flute playing.[215]

Another musical nation of Central Africa is the Karague; travellers who have visited them have given more or less detailed accounts of their instruments and festivities. Capt. Speke had the unusual honor of a serenade from the royal court band. The king after receiving a present of some beads, cloth wire, and a tin box, was so delighted that he sent his own band to give Speke a tune.

The performers used reed instruments (made in telescopic fashion) and marked the time by hand-drums. At first they marched and countermarched, playing meanwhile much in the manner of Turkish regimental bands; but this was soon changed to a species of “horn-pipe,” which all the musicians danced, playing furiously meanwhile.[216]

Another bit of musical ceremony which Speke witnessed, will at once remind the reader of the great “Zapfenstreich” or grand tattoo practised sometimes in the German army. At the new moon the king surrounds himself with numerous drummers (Speke saw thirty-five); these strike up together, gradually increasing to a deafening noise; this is followed by a milder kind of music, similar to that described above. The object of the ceremony is to call in all the king’s warriors to renew their oath of fealty.[217] The time keeping is said to be very exact, and the drummers burst forth again and again during the night. The war drum of the Karague is beaten by women.

A kind of guitar exists among this people, and six of the seven strings which it possesses accord perfectly with our own diatonic scale, the seventh string only, being discordant. Their wind instruments are flageolet and bugle, or at least similar to them.

Among the nations adjacent to those already mentioned are the Bongo.

We again quote from the valuable work of the most musical traveller who has visited this section,—Schweinfurth.[218]

“The Bongo, in their way are enthusiastic lovers of music; and although their instruments are of a very primitive description, and they are unacquainted even with the pretty little guitar of the Nyam-Nyams, which is constructed on perfectly correct acoustic principles, yet they may be seen at any hour of the day, strumming away and chanting to their own performances. The youngsters down to the small boys are all musicians. Without much trouble and with the most meagre materials they contrive to make little flutes; they are accustomed also to construct a monochord, which in its design reminds one of that which (known as the Gubo of the Zulus) is common throughout the tribes of Southern Africa. This consists of a bow of bamboo, with the string tightly strained across it, and this is struck by a slender slip of bamboo.

The mouth of the player performs the office of sounding board; he holds the instrument to his mouth with one hand, and manages the string with the other. Performers may often be seen sitting for hours together with an instrument of this sort; they stick one end of the bow into the ground, and fasten the string over a cavity covered with bark, which opens into an aperture for the escape of the sound. They pass one hand from one part of the bow to the other, and with the other they play upon the string with the bamboo twig, and produce a considerable variety of buzzing and humming airs which are really rather pretty. This is quite a common pastime with the lads who are put in charge of the goats. I have seen them apply themselves very earnestly and with obvious interest to their musical practice, and the ingenious use to which they apply the simplest means for obtaining harmonious tones testifies to their penetration into the secrets of the theory of sound.

As appeals however to the sense of sound, the great festivals of the Bongo abound with measures much more thrilling than any of these minor performances. On these occasions the orchestral results might perhaps be fairly characterised as cats’ music run wild.

Unwearied thumping of drums, the bellowings of gigantic trumpets, for the manufacture of which, great stems of trees come into requisition. Interchanged by fits and starts with the shriller blasts of some smaller horns, make up the burden of the unearthly hub-bub which re-echoes miles away along the desert; meanwhile women and children by the hundred fill gourd flasks with little stones, and rattle them as if they were churning butter; or again at other times they will get some sticks or faggots and strike them together with the greatest energy.

The huge wooden tubes which may be styled the trumpets of the Bongo, are by the natives themselves, called “manyinyee;” they vary from four to five feet in length, being closed at the extremity and ornamented with carved work representing a man’s head, which not unfrequently is adorned with a pair of horns. The other end of the stem is open, and in an upper department, towards the figure of the head, is the orifice into which the performer blows with all his might.

There is another form of manyinyee, which is made like a huge wine bottle; in order to play upon it, the musician takes it between his knees like a violincello, and when the build of the instrument is too cumbrous he has to bend over it as it lies upon the ground.

“Little difference can be noticed between the kettle drums of the Bongo, and those of most other North African Negroes. A section is cut from the thick stem of a tree, the preference being given to a tamarind when it can be procured, this is hollowed out into a cylinder, one end being larger than the other. The ends are then covered with two pieces of goat skin, stripped of the hair which are tightly strained, and laced together with thongs.

At the nightly orgies a fire is invariably kept burning to dry the skin, and to tighten it, when it has happened to become relaxed by the heavy dews.”

A short description of the signal horns of the Bongo is also given by our musical traveller; some of them resemble fifes, and many are made of antelope horns.

Regarding the singing of the Bongo, Schweinfurth is quite descriptive and as the deductions he arrives at are very similar to those we have ascribed to primitive or natural men, we introduce the passage without alteration.[219]

“Difficult were the task to give any adequate description of the singing of the Bongo. It must suffice to say that it consists of a babbling recitative, which at one time suggests the yelling of a dog, and at another the lowing of a cow, whilst it is broken over, and again by the gabbling of a string of words which are huddled up one into another. The commencement of a measure will always be with a lively air, and every one without distinction of age or sex will begin yelling, screeching, and bellowing with all their strength; gradually the surging of voices will tone down, the rapid time will moderate, and the song be hushed into a wailing melancholy strain.

“Thus it sinks into a very dirge such as might be chanted at the grave, and be interpreted as representative of a leaden and a frowning sky, when all at once, without note of warning, there bursts forth the whole fury of the negro throats; shrill and thrilling is the outcry, and the contrast is as vivid as sunshine in the midst of rain.”

“Often as I was present at these festivities I never could prevent my ideas from associating Bongo music with the instinct of imitation which belongs to men universally. The orgies always gave me the impression of having no other object than to surpass in violence the fury of the elements: adequately to represent the rage of a hurricane in the tropics, any single instrument must of course be weak, poor, and powerless, consequently they hammer at numbers of their gigantic drums with powerful blows of their heavy clubs. If they would rival the bursting of a storm, the roaring of the wind, or the plashing of the rain, they summon a chorus of their stoutest lungs; whilst to depict the bellowing of terrified wild beasts, they resort to their longest horns; and to imitate the songs of birds, they bring together all their flutes and fifes.

Most characteristic of all, perchance is the deep and rolling bass of the huge ‘manyinyee’ as descriptive of the rumbling thunder. The penetrating shower may drive rattling and crackling among the twigs and amid the parched foliage of the woods; and this is imitated by the united energies of women and children, as they rattle the stones in their gourd-flasks, and clash together their bits of wood.”

The dances of these people are similar in wildness to their music. The performers wear iron rings, with balls attached, around their ankles, and clash these together with such energy that their feet are often bathed in blood.

The Mittoo tribe rank very high among the African tribes, in their musical attainments; their melodies are quite agreeable to the cultivated ear and the pains which they take in mastering the intricacies of a musical composition, recall to the mind the difficulties which beset the path of the civilized musical student.

We have seen a transcription of one of their songs, which would require but little alteration to transform it into a very fair “slumber song.”

Many of them are quite skillful upon the flute, and have been described by Nubian travellers as equal to the best Frankish (European) performers who reside in Cairo.

The Monbuttoo also have a strong passion for music, so much so that the king sometimes dances before his wives and subjects, to the accompaniment of the royal band.

In his court concerts he has horn-men, who can modulate their tones from infinite tenderness to the sound of a lion’s roar; and can perform upon a horn so cumbrous that it can scarcely be held, passages of runs, trills and shakes, which would be even difficult upon a flute.

Court fools, jesters and mimics also appertain to the King of the Monbuttoo—Munza; they have also a sort of national hymn, more noisy than musical. The words are monotonous and much repeated,—

“Ee, ee, tchupy, tchupy, ee, Munza, ee!” will do as a sample line. The king stands up and beats time, with all the gravity of a musical conductor. His baton is made of a wicker worked sphere filled with pebbles, and attached to a short stick, in fact exactly what we should call a baby’s rattle. When he approves the performance or gets excited, he joins in the chorus with a stentorian “B-r-r-r-r——” which shakes the house.

It is singular that music boxes should be popular with Africans who indulge in such noisy effects, yet such is the fact; there is no present so desired by Negro potentates as a music box with bells and drums.

Explorers can find no surer road to the heart of an African chief than by a present of one of these mechanisms. Sir Samuel Baker had great trouble with King Kabba Rega (of the tribe of the Unyori,) about a music box.[220] Speke and Schweinfurth both found them among the most treasured possessions of the savage chieftains. Kabba Rega’s reason for prizing the box above all other musical instruments, is unique; on hearing it play, for the first time, he remarked,—“It is more convenient than an instrument which requires study, as you might set this going at night, to play you to sleep, when you were too drunk to play it yourself even if you knew how to do it.”[221] The national hymn of this monarch, bears considerable resemblance to the first part of the well known air—“Three Blind Mice.”[222]

We have not space to describe fully the rites and music of that curious people, the Abyssinians; two examples of their musical ceremonies must suffice.

A funeral procession (reported by an American eye witness) consisted of about one hundred and fifty people, old and young, preceded by a few priests; every few minutes the cortege would halt to shriek and howl. The priests (clad in cotton robes with broad scarlet bands) were acting in a frantic manner; tearing off their turbans, pulling their hair, then folding their hands on their breasts and looking inexpressibly miserable.

They carried Arabic parchment books, illuminated with quaint figures and devices, and now and then chanted prayers to some favorite saint,[223] very dolefully, though with strong lungs and nasal intonation. Numerous genuflections were made, always accompanied with long drawn howls of extreme agony. At the lowering of the body into the grave, they chanted a prayer, of which the following is a translation,—

“Werkena, son of Yasous, who was the son of Tekee, is dead. Rejoice, oh ye people! He has gone to his rest with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. Let us pray for those who still live, and pray for the soul just gone to doom. From vengeance and stern judgment, pray that his soul be delivered. How can the souls be delivered from tribulation? By long prayers. Pray, then, that he be sheltered by Father Abraham, that he may walk in safety by the side of Moses and the prophets, Amen, and Amen!”[224]

After the grave was closed, the major part of the mourners followed in the train of a musician, who was discoursing lively tunes on an oboe, and one of the priests, who had been mourning so vigorously, offered to show strangers over his cathedral for the consideration of one dollar.

A fitting contrast to this, is the musical ovation tendered to the British Army, after the conquest of King Theodore, April, 1868. The natives came in great numbers to sing praises. They chose for the subject of their psalm, the twenty-second chapter, of the second book of Samuel, (David’s song), beginning:—“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress,” and they sang it with David’s own fervor; and, to make it quite realistic, in imitation of his dancing before the ark, the Abyssinian clergy brought out an imitation of an ark, five yards in length, one yard in breadth, and a foot in height. It was covered with a scarlet cloth, embroidered with gold, and above it was a representation of a mercy-seat of crimson silk, surmounted by a canopy of similar stuff; candlesticks, lavers, priests’ robes, hyssops, communion cups, pixes, chalices, crosses of brass, silver and gold, mitres, etc., figured in the religious paraphernalia employed. The Neophytes kept up a deafening, jingling clang; or, with instruments of wood and brass, one stringed banjoes, clanking brass cymbals kept a rhythmic time, which swelled louder and louder as they drew near the headquarters of the army.

“The priests (out of respect for their office) took the front position, and one of them, with a semi-ludicrous air, struck up the first note of the impromptu stanzas which were to celebrate the British conquest of Abyssinia.”

“As he warmed to his theme, and his voice rose to enthusiasm, the motley assembly, at the waving of a crucifix, chimed in with chorus, which, sung with stentorian lungs, had a tremendous effect. After the chorus, six priests clad in cotton stoles headed by the sub-hierarch, took the eulogy up at a very low key, which soon, however, rose so high and shrill in a protracted continuity of sound, that one momentarily expected to hear their lungs crack, ending with a stormy chorus as before. Then, forming themselves into a circle, a hundred of them commenced a dignified sailing round their neighbors, to the right and left, their togas getting inflated with the movement, weaving each into another, until it might have been imagined that they had manufactured some complicated knot, on the gordian principle; but, soon taking the reverse method, they reached their former positions in time. The singing went on louder and louder, and the choragus giving the warning clap, the whole multitude clapped their hands; the women and children struck up the silver-toned ‘li, li, li,’ performing a dance similar to the Chinese hop and skip.”

“They then formed triplets and massed themselves together, when a shrill note from the boys, sent them into a confused whirl, round and round, the sub-hierarch and his six assistants going faster and faster, as they acquired momentum, clapping their hands, singing louder than ever, the head priest ducking his body lower and lower, and more energetic, until the dance and the excitement which they all labored under, assumed the appearance of a jubilee medley, composed of waltzes, Dervish-dances, sarabands, fandangos, pirouettes and chasses, the three latter performed by the most youthful of the assembly.”

“It must not be forgotten, that all this time the ark and mercy-seat—minus the cherubim—(which was totally omitted from this Abyssinian imitation), stood on the ground near the priests, while a choice number of infantine neophites, manfully rang the merriest chimes, and the instruments of Juniper-wood, the one-stringed banjos, and cymbals, made as much discordant music as was possible under the circumstances. The Ethiops before concluding the entertainment, raised[225] once again the Canto Trionfale.”

The effect Mr. Stanley says, had a wonderful charm, and the blending of the mass of women’s and children’s voices with the larger and deeper tones of the bass, was like the whistling of a gale in a ship’s shrouds, blending with the deeper roar of a tempest.

We cannot give a better idea of the hold which music has upon the average native Negro, than by narrating an incident which befell Sir Samuel Baker, in the Shooli country.

He held a review of his troops March 8, 1872, and after a sham fight, firing of rockets, etc., the troops marched up and down a hill, with the band playing. The natives assembled in considerable numbers and viewed the manœuvres with much delight; but the brass band music was the crowning point of their enjoyment. We sub-join his description of its effect upon these children of nature.

“The music of our band being produced simply by a considerable number of bugles, drums, and cymbals, aided by a large military bass-drum, might not have been thought first-rate in Europe, but in Africa it was irresistible.”

“The natives are passionately fond of music; and I believe the safest way to travel in these wild countries, would be to play the cornet, if possible, without ceasing, which would ensure a safe passage. A London organ-grinder would march through Central Africa, followed by an admiring and enthusiastic crowd, who, if his tunes were lively, would form a dancing escort of the most untiring material.”

“As my troops returned to their quarters, with the band playing rather lively airs, we observed the women racing down from their villages, and gathering from all directions towards the common centre. As they approached nearer, the charms of music were overpowering, and halting for an instant they assumed what they considered the most graceful attitudes, and then danced up to band.”

“In a short time my buglers could scarcely blow their instruments for laughing at the extraordinary effect of their performance. A fantastic crowd surrounded them as they halted in our position among the rocks, and every minute added to their number.”

“The women throughout the Shooli are entirely naked; thus the effect of a female crowd, bounding madly about as musical enthusiasts, was very extraordinary; even the babies were brought out to dance; and these infants strapped to their mothers’ backs, and covered with pumpkin shells, like the young tortoises, were jolted about, without the slightest consideration for the weakness of their necks, by their infatuated mothers.”

“As usual among all tribes of Central Africa, the old women were even more determined dancers than the young girls. Several old Venuses were making themselves extremely ridiculous, as they sometimes do in civilized countries, when attempting the allurements of younger days.”

“The men did not share in the dance, but squatted upon the rocks in great numbers to admire the music and to witness the efforts of their wives and daughters.”[226]

Sir Samuel Baker also once used music for quite a different purpose. He was quartered near the town of Masindi, where dwelt Kabba Rega, King of the Unyori, when one evening, he noticed a most unusual stillness in the town, where ordinarily drunken songs and horn-blowing were the rule. Suddenly there sounded the deep tones of a nogara, or drum. This ceased in a moment; and then came a burst of terrific noise, which caused every man in camp to rush to his post. It was a din, caused by many thousands yelling and shrieking like maniacs. At least a thousand drums were beating; horns, whistles, and every instrument which could add to the confusion, was blowing and sounding, yet no human being was visible.

The dragoman, on being questioned by the commander, laughed, and said it was “to make him afraid, and exhibit the large number of people collected in the town.”

Gen. Baker on ascertaining this determined to act as though it were a compliment which he felt bound to return. He ordered the regimental band to strike up, and play their loudest. This nonchalance had its effect, for, after a short time, the bugles, drums, and clashing cymbals of his own band, were the only sounds heard; the tumult in Masindi had subsided, and soon Gen. Baker ordered his own musicians to cease playing, and all was again perfectly still.[227]

We close this account of the music of some of the savage tribes of the earth, with a description of a farewell dance, given to Stanley, by the Wanyamwezi of Singiri, which is well worthy of a place, as showing the powers of improvisation of the Africans.

“It was a wild dance, with lively music, four drums giving the sonorous accompaniment, being beaten with tremendous energy and strength. Everyone (even Stanley himself) danced with great fervor, and combined excited gesticulations, with their saltatory efforts. But after the close of this war-like music, came a total change; all dropped on their knees, and in sorrowful accents sang a slow and solemn refrain, of which the following is a literal translation,—

Solo:—‘Oh, oh, oh! the white man is going home.

Chorus:—Oh, oh, oh! going home! going home! oh, oh, oh!

Solo:—To the happy island on the sea,

Where the beads are plenty, oh, oh, oh!

Chorus:—Where the beads, etc.

Solo:—While Singiri has kept us, oh, very long

From our homes, very long, oh, oh, oh!

Chorus:—From our homes, etc.

Solo:—And we have had no food for very long,

We are half-starved, oh, for so long Bana Singiri.

Chorus:—For so very long, oh, oh, oh! Bana Singiri, Singiri, Singiri! Oh! Singiri!

Solo:—Mirambo has gone to war

To fight against the Arabs;

The Arabs and Wangwana

Have gone to fight Mirambo.

Chorus:—Oh, oh, oh, to fight Mirambo,

Oh! Mirambo, Mirambo, etc.

Solo:—But the white man will make us glad,

He is going home! For he is going home,

And he will make us glad! Sh, sh, sh.

Chorus:—The white man will make us glad! Sh, sh, sh.

Sh——sh-h-h——, sh-h-h-h-h-h

Um-m—mu——um-m-m—sh!’”[228]

Mr. Stanley says that the rhythm and melody were beautiful, and the general effect fine.

It is curious to contrast this quiet and pathetic farewell with the bombastic “Where are you going to battle now?” previously given; and it is also noticeable, that the power of improvisation which is so well developed in the African Negro, is fully sustained by his descendents in America.

It will be an interesting task to the student to compare the slave-music, especially the camp-meeting songs of the American Negroes, with the various descriptions of songs given above. The same fervor of expression, and gradually growing excitement, and the same exaggeration of feeling will be perceived at once.

It is not too much to say, that the Negro race may be, when refined and toned down, the most universally and thoroughly musical race on the face of the globe.

CHAPTER XX
MUSIC OF THE EARLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

We now resume the chronological chain of musical history, from the termination of “Ancient Greek music;” for the music of the Christian church took its rise, from the melodies of Ancient Greece. Yet it is probable that the earliest Christian melodies were not according to the classical Grecian type, but rather conformed to the popular in style. This has always been the case in the rise of a new sect with sagacious leaders. The Jews on leaving Egypt, yet sang the popular melodies dear to their hearts, by association of childhood and youth; only at a later period, only when these songs were no longer so endeared to them did David introduce such reforms, as gave to the Hebrew music a distinctive style. So, also, it was with the Christian church in its earliest days; it would have been positively injudicious, at first, to have attempted a reform; and therefore, the old popular melodies of Greece and Rome, were set to new words and exerted a new influence.

Music has been, with every religion, the most powerful accessory of the Faith; but with none more than with Christianity. It had the additional advantage, of being in an advancing state (under the charge of able directors, who fully saw the power of the art when made popular) while the music of the Pagan church was greatly declining. The great emperor Julian, foresaw the result, and used great efforts to secure a better class of music for the Roman sacrifices, but without avail.

With regard to the Christian music of the time of the apostles, we have only tradition, but these traditions have so much probability, that they acquire some degree of authority.

Eusebius assures us that St. Mark taught the first Egyptian Christians how to chant their prayers: St. John Chrysostom affirms (in his sixth homily) that the Apostles wrote the first hymn. In Rome (according to Tertullian) the chants were given in a deep tone, and not in a sustained manner, at one part of the service, and with strong accents, and flexible voice at another. The Fathers of the church almost all bear testimony that the music of the service generally partook of the habitual style of singing of each nation.

Kiesewetter, one of the most careful of the students of Ancient Greek music, maintains that, while the early Christians borrowed much from Greece, yet from the first, the tendency was rather away from, than in the path of the Greek style. Brendel in his essays coincides with this opinion.[229]

The cause of this, so far as Rome and Greece are concerned, is very apparent. The apostles and their followers, started unencumbered in the musical field. The theory of Greek music was a most difficult one to master, and the converts were at first almost wholly among the humbler classes. It would have been impossible to have trained them in the elaborate Hellenic school, therefore, the more ear-catching melodies were at first used, combined probably with a simple chant. The same cause operated in the foundation of a newer and simpler theory of music; hence, although our modern music is the child of the ancient Greek school, yet it did not go in the same course, or arrive at the same goal which would have resulted, had the old Greek civilization been continued two thousand years longer.

We hold that the Greeks were too much devoted to the plastic arts, ever to have brought music deeply into the inner life.

Before the liturgy had been well established, improvisation was much employed; a result always to be anticipated when uncultivated persons become musical. At the evening meal, the twenty-third Psalm was usually chanted.[230] Other passages of scripture were also used, such as Exodus XV., and Daniel III.

When the water was passed around for the washing of hands, each one of the company was asked in turn to praise God in song, and the selection might either be taken from Scripture, or improvised, according to the taste or ability of the performer.[231] Some of the best of these effusions were unquestionably preserved and possibly even admitted into the regular service of the church. The songs may have been rough and uncouth, but they were given with a fervor which compensated for any short-comings. They were unaccompanied, for two reasons; first, it would have been difficult to have formed an instrumental accompaniment to such variable and primitive songs, (sometimes a mere intonation of the voice, scarcely to be called music or even chanting); and second, because all the instruments of the heathen were in daily use at the sacrifices and theatres; and it would have seemed sacrilegious to have used them in the celebration of a Christian festival.[232]

The summing up of the legends, surmises, and few statements concerning the music of the earliest Christians, are well expressed in Ambros.[233]

We can conclude regarding the music of the earliest Christian times, that it was at first a species of Folk-song, founded upon the school of music then in vogue, but elevated and impregnated with a new religious spirit. But this simplicity soon was changed: profiting by the experience of the Romans in uniting all art and beauty in their theatres, (whereby the theatre grew, and the church declined;) the early Christians soon found it wise to unite every art, in the service of their church. It is also probable that much of the music was borrowed from that of the Hebrews. This is more natural when we reflect that Christianity was at first a continuation (or reorganization) of Hebrew rites and the apostles were all well acquainted with the ceremonies of the Jewish church.

The chanting of the scriptures which took place in the latter worship, was undoubtedly transplanted into the Christian service.[234] Many of the early psalms and canticles were sung in caves and subterranean retreats in which places the proscribed and persecuted worshippers were obliged to seek refuge, and where they still kept, up with undeviating regularity the practice of their ceremonies.

Pliny the younger on being made pro-consul of Bithynia was especially charged by the emperor Trajan, to find accusations against the Christians there, the number of whom was augmenting daily. A letter of his, supposed to have been written in the third year of the second century of our era,[235] contains the following regarding the new religion.

“They affirm that their fault, and errors have only consisted of this;—they convene at stated days, before sunrise, and sing, each in turn, verses in praise of Christ, as of a God; they engage themselves, by oath, not to do any crime, but never to commit theft, robbery, or adultery, never to break faith, or betray a trust. After this they separate and afterwards reassemble to eat together innocent and innocuous dishes.”[236]

At a later period (the fourth century) all proselytes and new converts were not admitted to sing in the church with the baptized. The new converts presented themselves before the hierarch, (a dignitary who was charged with the duty of classifying the catechumens in different orders) and expressed to him the desire of joining the church. If the questions of the priests were satisfactorily answered, he placed his hand on the head of the applicant and gave him the benediction with the sign of the cross, and afterwards inscribed his name among the number of candidates for baptism. The catechumen had not the right to enter the church. He might linger around the porticos, but was on no account allowed to join in the prayers, except in a low voice, and in the hymns not at all, until he had received the rite of baptism.

The candidates for baptism were divided into various classes. Even after baptism there were three orders of Christians, and those who had fallen into disgrace with the church, were sometimes disciplined by being reduced for a few years to the rank of auditors at the services. These were not allowed to join in the congregational singing, and were sometimes not even admitted to the body of the church edifice unless called there.

It is presumable that the right to join in the singing was, during the first two or three centuries, highly prized.

Little by little the spirit of improvement crept into the unskilled but soul-felt music of the early Christian church. It seems rather strange to find in the very germs of the religion, a silent, yet real contest between congregational and paid singing; and to find the same evils creeping in with the employment of singers in those early times, that we see in the present days of quartette choirs. In the days of Origen (about the middle of the second century) all the congregation sang together.

St. John Chrysostom says,—

“The psalms which we sing united all the voices in one, and the canticles arise harmoniously in unison. Young and old, rich and poor, women, men, slaves and citizens, all of us have formed but one melody together.”[237]

A better picture of the full congregational singing of the primitive Christians cannot be given. The custom of allowing both sexes to sing together, was abolished by the Synod of Antioch in A. D. 379, and it was then decided that the men only should be allowed to sing the psalms.

In A. D. 481, the council of Laodicea ordained that the clerks only (called canonical singers “Canonicos Cantores,”) should be allowed to sing during the service.[238] The abuses which accompany paid singing, appeared even in the second century. Singers found themselves sought after in proportion to their talents, and therefore (in the absence of an exact method of notation) sought to make those talents more conspicuous by an introduction of florid ornaments and cadenzas into their music; they gradually forgot, or disregarded the old traditional style of singing, and sought only to excite the admiration of the masses by exhibiting to the best advantage the power and agility of their voices.

It was, without doubt, to remedy this abuse that Pope Sylvester I, who occupied the pontifical chair, A. D. 320, founded a school in Rome for the formation of singers.[239] At this time also, the choir had its own gallery or place in the church assigned to it, and every art was called into play to impress and enthrall the worshipper. Sculpture, Painting, Architecture and Music combined, as they had previously done for Pagan theatres and amusements, to render the church a beautiful as well as holy resort. Charity combined in some instances with policy; for we learn that a singing school founded in A. D. 350, by pope Hilary, was called an orphan asylum (orphanotrophia), and here the education of clerks for the church, was commenced at a very tender age.[240]

These schools did much to re-establish a dignified and worthy style of sacred singing. Yet there was great need of a sweeping reform; for as there existed no really fixed system, the differences in singing were almost as numerous as the various existing churches. Before speaking of this reform, we will briefly outline the progress of music in Christian communities outside of Rome.