A word should be added here regarding the instruments used by the negro. The one most closely identified with him is, of course, the banjo, which, in a primitive form, he is said to have brought from Africa. The 'banjar' to which Thomas Jefferson refers in his 'Notes on Virginia' was an instrument of four strings, or perhaps less at first, whose head was covered with a rattlesnake's skin, and which resembled closely an instrument used by the Chinese. (Cf. Vol. I, p. 54.) It is thought that the original banjo was a melodic rather than a harmonic instrument, which is the peculiar office of its modern off-spring, and, since the negro's music was at first purely melodic, it must have been accordingly played. The tuning, too, was probably very different from that of the banjo of to-day.
Besides this, the negro's chief instrument was the drum, as already indicated. There were two principal sizes, made of a hollowed log (the smaller one often of bamboo sections) over the end of which sheep or goat skin was stretched. These drums were played in a horizontal position, the player sitting on the instrument astride. Then there were rattles, some like the Indians', some consisting of a jaw-bone of an animal, across which a piece of metal was 'rasped'; also the morimbabrett, consisting of a small shallow box of thin wood, with several sections of reed, of graduated lengths, placed across it, the ends of which were plucked by the player. The familiar Pan's pipes, made from two joints of brake cane ('quills') and various noise instruments—'bones,' triangle, tambourine, and whistles—were all made to do duty. But when the negro had become thoroughly civilized the violin became his favorite instrument, and the 'technique' he achieved upon it without any real training has often astonished the white listener.
III
Attention was not directed to the value of negro songs till the middle of the nineteenth century. Considerable research resulted finally in the publication of several collections, of which the 'Slave Songs of the United States,' already mentioned above, was the first. This collection of songs represents every phase in the gamut of expression. The so-called 'sorrow' songs, the oldest surviving negro songs, are perhaps the most expressive. Some of them have sprung from the memories of a single act of cruelty, or an event of such tragedy as to create a really deep impression. Others echo simply the hardships encountered day by day. There are songs, too, that reflect the sunshine and gaiety that was not altogether foreign to plantation life, but those inspired by grief are the most beautiful. Then there are the 'occupational' songs suggested by the rhythm of labor which form a part of every kind of folk-song the world over. The value of such songs was fully recognized by the slaves' masters, for they were unfailing accelerators of labor, and it is known that the slaves who led the singing in the field were given special rewards. In consequence of this the negroes generally came to abhor that class of songs, and it is significant that very few of the 'corn songs,' 'reel tunes,' 'fiddle songs,' and 'devil songs' have been preserved, while hundreds of the religious songs—'spirituals,' etc.—are now common property.[70]
A special class of labor songs were the so-called 'railroad songs,' which originated during the Civil War, when negroes were employed in building earth works and fortifications. They consisted of a series of rhythmic, protracted chants, upon words usually originated by a leader. Railroad tracks were laid to these same strains—hence their name. Their originality of thought and the fact that they represent the last spontaneous outburst of the negro under rapidly changing conditions, lends them a special interest. The railroad itself naturally stimulated the negro's imagination. He introduced it metaphorically even in his religious songs: the Christian was a traveller, the Lord was the conductor and the ministers were the brakemen. At gospel stations the train stopped for those that were saved, or to supply the engine with the water of life. All of the negro's power of imagery was here brought into play.
The love songs of the negro are few and those few lack depth, and sometimes border on frivolity. An exception is usually made for 'Poor Rosy,' concerning which one old negress has said that 'it cannot be sung without a full heart and troubled spirit.'
We have already pointed out the preponderance of religious songs in the folk-music of the negro. The reason is not hard to find. In his aboriginal home religious rite, music and dance were closely associated, as they are in the life of all primitive peoples. The African's religion was a form of idolatry known as voodooism. Connected with it were certain chants and rites, relics of which have long survived.[71] These primitive rites were calculated to excite the emotions rather than to uplift the spirit and under this excitement the negro gave voice to the music that was in him. He accepted the Christian religion as a substitute just as he accepted the English language as a substitute for his African tongue. He garbled both. He considered the new religion not in a dogmatic, philosophical, or ethical sense, but rather as an emotional experience. When under religious excitement he would wander through the woods in swamps much like the ancient Bacchantes. 'A race imbued with strong religious sentiment,' says Mr. M. A. Haskell,[72] 'one rarely finds among them an adult who has not gone through that emotional experience known as conversion, after which it is considered vanity and sinfulness to indulge in song other than of a sacred character.'
His religion became the negro's one relief, comfort, and enjoyment. His daily life became tinged with his belief; in his very sufferings he saw the fulfillments of its promises. Nothing but patience for this life, nothing but triumph in the next—that was the tenor of his lay. Emancipation he thought of in terms of ultimate salvation rather than earthly freedom. Thus he sang:
'Children, we shall all be free,
Children, we shall all be free,
Children, we shall all be free,
When the Lord shall appear.'
A religious allegory colored nearly all his songs, a pathetic, childlike trust in the supernatural spoke through them, and biblical references, echoes of the 'meetin',' shreds of the minister's teaching, were strewn indiscriminately through all of them. 'The rolling of Jordan's waters, the sound of the last trumpet, the vision of Jacob's ladder, the building of the ark, Daniel in the lion's den, Ezekiel's wheel in the middle of a wheel, Elijah's chariot of fire, the breaking up of the Universe, the lurid pictures of the Apocalypse—all asked for swelling proclamation.' Analogies between the chosen people and their own in bondage were inevitable—and 'Hallelujahs' seemed as appropriate in secular songs as in spiritual ones.