But, in searching for that undefinable entity which is sometimes called the “soul of music,” or, in other words, that kind of music which finds a responsive thrill in every human breast, because it speaks most clearly the language of man’s best impulses and tenderest feelings, it seems to the writer that the slave songs of the South meet the demand more nearly than any other style of musical expression. These children of bondage knew nothing of the methods of the schools, yet, in the harmonious blending and balancing of the four parts, their vocalization is seldom equalled; while their skill in translating heart throbs into the descriptive language of the diatonic scale is rarely surpassed.
No exhaustive analysis of the slave music is here attempted.
It is, however, a very rich mine to explore. Suffice to indicate its principal features, namely these, among others: great simplicity, but richness in the harmony, coupled with much variety and originality of melody. Many of the “resolutions” of chords are abrupt and startling; some of them doubtless contrary to the principles of “thorough bass,” but all the more expressive on that account of the rough and rugged experiences which gave them birth. While the tempo of these songs is largely common, or four-four, there are strange points of emphasis put upon syllables and unexpected cadences in rhythm, which are well nigh unreducible to musical notation.
The ad libitum passages are numerous, and the musical intervals often abnormal, as in rapid changes from major to minor, and conversely, like “Roll, Jordan, Roll”; also in the use of a minor third, while singing on a major key, as in “Run to Jesus.”
Their general style is recitative and chorus, though a few are pure solos or unisonal measures.
The music and words of many of these songs were born together.
This is true, especially, of those associated with social worship, which, having been produced by the sudden inspiration of religious fervor came forth spontaneously from one voice, while the multitude caught the refrain and sang it out with a mighty chorus, as the sound of many waters.
Assuming the correctness of Geo. MacDonald’s definition of a song, as a composition in which the emotional largely overbalances the intellectual element, their songs, with their fullness of sentiment, seem to realize the ideal.
A proper classification of these products of slavery should distinguish between those songs which groan with the agonies of a hard and cruel thralldom, and those which palpitate with the joy of a present salvation, and the hope of a glorious home of freedom beyond the grave.
Among the selections belonging to the first of these divisions, the minor key naturally predominates. Indeed, this is the pitch upon which the majority of human hearts, the world over, are tuned. A more exquisite minor melody than “Nobody Knows the Trouble I See,” can hardly be conceived. So, too, for pure pathos nothing can excel “You May Bury Me in the East.” But for bold and thrilling grandeur, scarcely anything in all the musical conceptions of the ages can be considered superior to “Go Down, Moses, way down in Egypt Land.” As the slaves used to roar it out, it must have seemed like the very voice of Jehovah himself.