Bend-in' knees a-ach-in', Bod-y rack'd wid pain, I wish I was a child of God, I'd
git home bime-by. Keep-prain', I do be-lieve We're a long time wag-gin' o' de
cross-in'. Keep pray-in', I do be-lieve We'll git home to heav-en bime-by.
There are many, many more.[68] Melodic imagination of a high order would be required to produce consciously such melodies as these. There is in them little that is trivial, nothing that is frivolous. Even the 'rhythmic snap' never sounds cheap in true negro music, as distinct from worthless imitations and so-called popular music—'coon songs' and the like. Note the following as a noble example of its use:
No-bod-y know's the trou-ble I see, Lord, No-bod-y know's the trou-ble I see;
No-bod-y know's the trou-ble I see, Lord, No-bod-y knows but Je-sus.
Broth-ers, will you pray for me, will you pray for me,
Brothe-rs, will you pray for me, And help me to drive old Sa-tan a-way?
In summing up the melodic and rhythmic characteristics of negro tunes we may state the apparently contradictory fact that the great majority of them are in the major mode, notwithstanding their almost ever-present note of sadness. Out of 527 songs analyzed by Mr. Krehbiel 416 are in ordinary major, only 62 in ordinary minor, 23 'mixed and vague,' and 111 pentatonic. Herein the negro folk-song differs from most other folk-songs. Its Southern habitat would, of course, seem to predispose it to major, and thus it bears out the argument in favor of climatic influence. Nevertheless the effect of sadness in the melodies does not escape us. Often it is produced by the aberrations of which we have spoken; but more often it is less tangible. In the words of Dr. DuBois 'these songs are the music of an unhappy people, of the children of disappointment; and they tell of death and suffering and unvoiced longing toward a truer world, of misty wanderings and hidden ways.'
Practically all of the songs are in duple and quadruple rhythm, triple time is extremely rare. The rhythmic propulsion is always strong. The persistent excitement of rhythm is evidently an African relic and the sense of it is so strong as to overcome the natural tendencies of the text. 'The negroes keep exquisite time,' says Mr. Allen, 'and do not suffer themselves to be daunted by any obstacle in the words. The most obstinate hymns they will force to do duty with any tune they please and will dash heroically through a trochaic tune at the head of a column of iambs with wonderful skill.'
The form of the songs is, of course, determined by the structure of the verse. They are composed of simple two-and four-bar phrases. Four such usually make up a stanza, while four more are comprised in the 'chorus' often placed at the beginning of the song and repeated after every verse. The stanzas of the older songs commonly contain an alternating solo and refrain; the second and fourth lines are usually given to the refrain and the first and third to the verse, the third being often a repetition of the first. In some cases the refrain occupies three lines and the verse the remaining one. 'The refrain is repeated with each stanza,' says Mr. Allen concerning the manner of performance, 'the words of the verse are changed at the pleasure of the leader, or fugleman, who sings either well-known words, or, if he is gifted that way invents verses as the song goes on.'[69]
Some difficulty was experienced by those who have transcribed the music of the negroes in reproducing 'the entire character' of the songs by the conventional symbols of the art. This is due in part to the primitive elements in the music, and in part to the peculiar manner of the performance. The characteristic improvisational style of the negro, the peculiar quality of the voices, and the slurring of certain values are all necessary in order to produce the proper effect. Moreover, the improvised harmony, simple as it was, had become an inherent part of the music not easily to be reproduced. The following description, taken from 'Slave Songs in the United States,' may be illuminating in this connection:
'There is no singing in parts, as we understand it, and yet no two appear to be singing the same thing; the leading singer starts the words of each verse, often improvising, and the others who "base" him, as it is called, strike in with the refrain, or even join in the solo when the words are familiar. When the "base" begins the leader often stops, leaving the rest of the words to be guessed at, or it may be they are taken up by one of the other singers. And the "basers" themselves seem to follow their own whims, beginning when they please and leaving off when they please, striking an octave above or below (in case they have pitched the tune too high), or hitting some other note that "chords," so as to produce the effect of a marvellous complication and variety and yet with the most perfect time and variety, and yet rarely with any discord. And what makes it all the harder to unravel a thread of melody out of this strange network is that, like birds, they seem not infrequently to strike sounds that cannot be precisely represented by the gamut and abound in "slides" from one note to another and turns and cadences not in articulated notes.'