PART IV. DANCING TUNES._Jamaican song and story

Turning now to the Dancing tunes, the chief difference to be noted is

that they show a more marked departure from what may be called the

Jamaican type of melody. Sailors bring popular songs to the seaports,

and from there they spread into the country. For a time some of the

original words are kept, but before long they get changed. The change

is partly due to that corruption of the text which naturally takes

place as the songs pass from mouth to mouth, but mainly to the fact

that the words, referring as they do to English topics, have no

interest here. So we generally find that the tunes are refitted with a

complete set of new words, describing some incident which has lately

happened in the district, or some detail of daily life. When these

reflect, as they often do, upon the characters of individuals the

names have been changed and all evidence pointing to the locality

destroyed. The same course has been pursued where it is thought the

susceptibilities of persons or their relations might possibly be

offended, even when there is nothing mentioned to their discredit.

The music consists of three "flutes" (fifes), two tambourines and a

big drum. This is the professional element, which is reinforced by

amateurs. One brings a cassada-grater, looking like a bread-grater;

this, rubbed with the handle of a spoon, makes a very efficient

crackling accompaniment. Another produces the jawbone of a horse, the

teeth of which rattle when it is shaken. A third has detached from

its leather one of his stirrup-irons, and is hanging it on a string to

do duty as a triangle. The top of the music is not always supplied by

fifes. Sometimes there will be two fiddles, sometimes a concertina,

or, what is more approved, because it has "bigger voice," a flutina.

On asking to see this strange instrument I was shown the familiar

accordion.

Their chief dances are the Valse, Polka, Schottische, and Quadrilles

in five figures, of which the fifth figure is the most popular, or as

they would say "sweet them most." This figure goes either to 6/8 or

2/4 time. The 2/4 figures of the Quadrilles are often used for Polka,

and Polka and Schottische tunes are always interchangeable, the only

difference being that the Schottische requires a slower time.

CXVII.

The ball opens with a set of Quadrilles:--

[Music: _1st Figure._

When I go home I will tell me mumma,

When I go home I will tell me mumma

That the gals in Jamaica won't leave me alone.]

This is the production of a white musician to whom the black girls

were especially attentive.

CXVIII.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Guava root a medicine,

Guava root a medicine fe go cure all the young gal fever.]

A decoction of the root of the Guava is used in cases of fever.

"Medicine" is pronounced so as to rhyme with Edison.

CXIX.

[Music: _3rd Figure._

Crahss-lookin' dog up'tairs,

Crahss-lookin' dog up'tairs;

I lift up me foot an' I hit him a kick

an' him roll up him tail an' run.

What you fe do with that?

I meet him up'tairs an' I hit him a kick

an' he roll up him tail an' run.]

See note to "Parson Puss and Parson Dog" (p. 93), also Author's

Preface.

CXX.

[Music: _4th Figure._

Goatridge have some set a gal

So-so shirt them can't wash.

Give me back me soap an' blue,

Give me back me soap an' 'tarch,

So-so shirt them can't wash.]

Goatridge is the name of a neighbouring hamlet. When a boy "gives out

his shirts to wash" he also provides the girl with soap, blue and

starch.

So-so means even. It also means only, as:--"I get so-so potato fe

nyam," I only got potatoes to eat.

"Shirt" is pronounced almost "shut."

CXXI.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Me carry me akee a Linstead market,

Not a quatty worth sell.

Oh what a losses!

Not a quatty worth sell.

Me carry me akee a Linstead market.

Not a quatty worth sell.

Oh not a light, not a bite!

Not a quatty worth sell.]

The Akee (_Cupania edulis_), pronounced _acky_, is a handsome tree

producing something which one hardly knows whether to call a fruit or

a vegetable. Besides the edible part, the beautiful scarlet capsule

contains a substance which is poisonous. Deaths by misadventure

through carelessness in its preparation for table occur every year.

The time of these Quadrille tunes will be pretty accurately judged.

They would all come under _Allegro_ except the First, which is slower

than the others, and it might be headed _Allegretto_ or even

_Andantino_. The Third figure is not much used, and many dancers do

not know the step. Its place is generally supplied by one of the other

figures. The most popular of all is the Fifth, of which we have many

examples to give. The step is regulated by two beats in the bar of

six, so we find that they dance it also to 2/4 time, as for

instance:--

CXXII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Since Dora Logan a wahk with Gallawoss,

The man them a beat them wife with junka 'tick.

Why, why, why, Amily!

Bring back me dumpling, yah? Amily!

No dog, no puss, no fowl, Amily.

Bring back me dumpling, yah?[54] Amily.

No dog, no puss, no fowl, Amily.

Fetch back me dumpling, yah? Amily.]

[Footnote 54: "Yah?" = Do you hear?]

This has to go very fast, indeed as fast as the words of the second

bar can be spoken. It will be found then to correspond to a moderate

_Allegro_ in six time counted in two.

Two stories are mixed up here. One of the girl who walks with the

Gallawoss--a Lizard with a gold eye and an undeserved reputation for

biting--which leads to an age the reverse of golden, when the men beat

their wives with junka (short) sticks. And the other, of some incident

connected with breakfast in the field, when Amily ate somebody's

dumpling and laid the blame on the usual scapegoat, the cat.

CXXIII.

The rapid speed necessitated by some forms of 2/4 time just suits the

following:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Fire, Mister Preston, Fire!

Fi-er down the lane!

Then send the brigade fe go out the fire,

The brigade can't out the fire.

Fire, Mister Preston! Fire, Mister Preston!

Fi-er down the lane!

Fire, Mister Preston! Fire, Mister Preston!

Fi-er down the lane!]

CXXIV.

Where the beat is in crotchets it sounds unduly slow:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Tief cahffee,

Benigna Field, fe go buy silk dress,

Fe go show them Gardon boy,

fe go show them Gardon boy,

Benigna Field, you tief cahffee.]

Benigna[55] Field steals some coffee to get money to buy a silk dress

to show off to the Gardon boys. (Gardon is a place, not a family.)

[Footnote 55: Other unusual girls' names are Ambrogine, Ateline,

Irene, Melmorine. These rhyme with Queen. The same Italian _i_ is

found in Elgiva, Seppelita, Barnita, Justina, and the English _i_ in

Alvira, Marina. The next are all accented, like the last six, on the

penultimate; Etilda, Iota, Clarista, Pastora, Barzella, Zedilla,

Amanda, Agarta (evidently a variant of Agatha), Timinetia (like

Polynesia), Cherryana, Indiana. Then there is Hettybel, and one girl

has this astonishing combination--Ataria (rhymes with Samaria),

Azadell (? Isabel).]

CXXV.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Fan me, soldier man, fan me;

Fan me, soldier man, fan me oh!

Gal, you character gone!

Sake a ten shilling shahl,

Sake a ten shilling shahl oh!

Make me character gone.]

CXXVI.

[Music: _Schottische._

Manny Clark a you da man!

So so ride you ride a Ginger Piece,

All the gal them a dead fe you.

Oh you take 'notta boil soup, take salt fish 'tick in it,

Gal, you want fe come kill me?

Oh you take 'notta a boil soup, take salt fish 'tick in it,

Gal, you want fe come kill me?]

Manny Clark, a popular player of dance tunes, goes to Ginger Piece and

is overwhelmed with attentions by the girls. He addresses himself as

follows:--"Manny Clark, you are the man! You just ride to Ginger Piece

and all the girls are dying for you." Then, turning to one of them, he

adds:--"Oh, you boil the soup with your best, taking Anatto and salt

fish to stick into it. Do you want to kill me with kindness?"

Anatto gives a rich yellow colour to the soup. Salt fish (stockfish)

is one of the principal articles of diet of the peasantry.

CXXVII.

[Music: _Schottische._

Bungo Moolatta, Bungo Moolatta,

Who de go married you?

You hand full a ring an' you can't do a t'ing,

Who de go married you?

Me give you me shirt fe wash,

You burn up me shirt with iron,

You hand full a ring an' you can't do a t'ing,

Who de go married you?]

"You Bungo Mulatto, who is going to marry you? Your ring-bedecked

fingers can't do anything. When I gave you my shirt to wash you burned

it with an over-hot iron."

Bungo (rhymes with Mungo) means a rough uncivilized African.

A Mulatto is the child of two Brown parents, Brown being the offspring

of Black and White. He has rather a yellow skin.

CXXVIII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Bahl, Ada you must bahl,

Ada you must bahl till the cock say coocoocoocoory co.]

Ada has been naughty and has been shut up for a night in the dark. The

poor little thing is "bawling," crying out in terror of the nameless

horrors of the night.

CXXIX.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Rise a roof in the morning,

Rise a roof in the morning;

Tell all the nigger them to come, come, come,

Rise a roof in the morning.

The Monkey and the Baboon them was sitting on the wall,

Rise a roof in the morning;

I an' my wife cannot agree,

Rise a roof in the morning.

She 'pread me bed on the dirty floor,

Rise a roof in the morning;

For Devil made the woman an' God made man,

Rise a roof in the morning.]

"Rise a roof" seems to mean, as far as I can understand the

explanation, "raise the roof"; as we might say, "row enough to blow

the roof off."

"Baboon" always has this accent on the first syllable and a French

_a_.

The Blacks do not mind calling themselves niggers, but a White man

must not call them so. To say "black nehgher" is an offence not to be

forgiven. The word is used again quite kindly in the following:--

CXXX.

[Music: _Jig._

Oh we went to the river an' we couldn' get across,

We jump on the nigger back we think it was a horse.[56]

Then Stephen, Stephen, Stephen boy,

Stephen, Stephen, poor Stephen!]

[Footnote 56: A last reminder to pronounce "acrahss," "harse." The

Negro rejects the sound _aw_ altogether and always changes it to

_ah_.]

A party get to one of the bends of Four-and-twenty River, so called

because the road crosses and recrosses it twenty-four times. Stephen

carries them all over.

CXXXI.

[Music: _Polka._

Aunty Jane a call Minnie,

Minnie won't go 'peak to him;

Aunty Jane a call Minnie,

Minnie won't go 'peak to him.

Wrap up in a crocus beig

In a Sandy Hill,

Wrap up in a crocus beig

In a Sandy Hill.]

Aunty Jane does not want Minnie to keep company with the boys at Sandy

Hill. Of course Minnie wants to go, and she does go. Aunty Jane sets

off to bring her home. When she reaches Sandy Hill she calls. Minnie

hears, but will not go and speak to her. She hides in the coffee-store

by wrapping herself in a crocus bag or sack. "Crocus" is a rough cheap

material. Coffee ready for market is put in the finer and smaller

canvas bags.

CXXXII.

[Music: _Valse._

Marty, Marty, me wanty go home,

Me wanty go home back a yard.

Tell me mumma say me wanty come home,

Me wanty come home, Me wanty come home,

Tell me mumma say me wanty come home,

Me wanty come home back a yard.]

Martin has been flogging his wife--not an unusual condition of

things--and she wants to go home to her mother. He will take her

message quite loyally. The matter will be arranged and they will be

good friends living apart. Before long she will go back to him of her

own accord. They make up their quarrels as quickly as they fall into

them.

CXXXIII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler?

What make you shave old Hall?

What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler?

What make you shave old Hall?

What make you shave old Hall, Rosie Fowler?

What make you shave old Hall?

Mister Barber have two teeth a him mout',

Them sweet like a sugar-plum.]

Rosie Fowler left old Hall for Mr. Barber, and being remonstrated

with, shaved him, _i.e._ gave him a good beating.

CXXXIV.

[Music: _Mazurka._

Run, Moses, run,

Mister Walker da come;

Run, Moses, run,

Mister Walker da come.

If you buck your right foot, buck your left foot,

Never try look back;

If you buck your right foot, buck your left foot,

Never try look back.]

To "buck" is to strike, and the word is applied to a stumbling horse,

who is said to buck his foot against a stone, or simply to buck. It

also means to butt with the head and is most likely a corruption of

this word. Bucking, or charging stag-fashion with the head, is the

favourite way for women to fight. Here is an account of such a

contest:--

CXXXV.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Whe you da do? Whe you da do?

Whe you da do make Sarah buck you?

Whe you da do? Whe you da do?

Whe you da do make Sarah buck you?

Adela da jump but Sarah buck him,

Adela da jump but Sarah buck him.

Whe you da do make Sarah buck you?

You Adela ho you ought to shame!

Whe you da do make Sarah buck you?]

Fights between women are by no means uncommon. This was a case of

_cherchez l'homme_. The ladies both wanted to marry the same man. The

"sing" was evidently composed by one of Sarah's partisans for the

words are:--"What did you do to make Sarah buck you? Adela jumped, but

Sarah bucked her. You, Adela, oh you ought to be ashamed!" Adela's

sideway jump was not quick enough to save her from Sarah's head.

"Whe you da do?" literally, What you is do? for What you did do?

meaning What did you do? So, if they were trying to talk "deep

English," for "Adela da jump" they would substitute "Adela is jump"

and think it was quite right.

CXXXVI.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Mother William hold back Leah!

Me tell you say hold back Leah!

Hold back Leah let go Jane Ann!

Den a Leah Leah dead 'way,

Let go Jane Ann!

Hold back Leah, let go Jane Ann!]

This is sung _agitato_ and pulsates with excitement. We see the

bustling, restless action--Mother Williams holding Leah, who is

frantic to get at Jane Ann, and who faints with exhaustion as she

struggles to escape from the strong arms thrown round her. "Let go

Jane Ann!" cry the bystanders, which means:--Make Jane Ann go away,

get her out of Leah's sight.

CXXXVII.

This seems a fitting moment to introduce:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Oh General Jackson!

Oh you kill all the Black man them!

Oh what a wrongful judgment!

You kill all the Black man them.

Oh what a awful mourning!

Oh what a awful mourning

You bring on St. Thomas people!]

This is the other side of the question, referred to in the Digging

Sing, No. 88. It is the rebellion of 1865 again, from the point of

view of that section of the Blacks who considered themselves aggrieved

at the measures taken for its suppression.

CXXXVIII.

We get a glimpse of the doings of the soldiery in peaceable times

in:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Soldier da go 'way,

Married woman let go your bull-dog to-morrow;

Soldier da go way to-morrow,

The last of the ring ding to-morrow,

Soldier da go 'way,

Married woman let go your bull-dog to-morrow;

Soldier da go 'way,

Married woman let go your bull-dog.]

The soldiers are shifting their quarters. As they are apt to be rather

riotous on the night before departure, the owner of the bull-dog is

advised to unchain him so that he may guard her property more

effectually.

CXXXIX.

There is also a tender side to the parting:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal,

First West will soon come back again.

Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal,

Second West is gone to the war.

Don't cry too much, don't cry too much,

First West will come and cheer you up.

Don't cry too much, Jamaica gal,

Second West is gone to the war.]

CXL.

A few years ago Jamaica boasted of water as efficacious as that of

Mecca in the opinion of some people. It seems to have lost its repute

in these sceptical days:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Dip them, Mister Bedward, dip them,

Dip them in the healing stream;

Some come with jackass, some come with bus,

Dip them in the healing stream.]

CXLI.

It says much for the expertness of the dancers that they can fit the

same steps to tunes of such varying accent as the two last examples

present. Here is another which differs again:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Very well, very well, Mister Collin now,

An' him leave an' join Sabbatarian bands,

An' him lose the whole of his members now,

Oh then poor Sabbatarian bands!]

Mr. Collin was a minister who told his flock that he had made a

mistake in keeping Sunday holy, and that for the future he would have

service on Saturday and the people were to come to church on that day

and work on Sunday. The "sing" suggests that his congregation was not

persuaded by his arguments.

CXLII.

The light-hearted way in which the Negro turns serious things into fun

is well illustrated by:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Oh trial! Great trevelation children ho!

Trial! We're bound to leave this world.

Baptis', Baptis', Baptis' till I die.

I been grown up in the Baptis' side

an' die under Baptis' rule.

Oh trial! Great trevelation children ho!

Trial! We're bound to leave this world.

Church-light, Church-light, Church-light till I die,

I been grown up in the Church-light side

an' die under Church-light rule.

Oh! trial! Great trevelation children ho!

Trial! We're bound to leave this world.]

And so on through all the sects and persuasions, Wesleyan, etc., etc.,

among them Mettetis (Methodist).

There is no doubt about the word being _trevelation_ a mixture of

Revelation, one of their favourite books in the Bible, and

tribulation, for which it is intended. The wrong phrasing of two notes

to "bound" is as they give it. We should allow only one.

CXLIII.

Every district has its rival churches and the various ministers have

to humour their congregations, and not preach too hard things to them,

so as to keep them from deserting to the enemy.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Father, I goin' to join the confirmation.

No, me son, you must have a little patien',

Why I tell you to have a little patien',

You must go an' read the Revelation.

I heard from my old generation

That they never go an' join the confirmation,

For they didn' have that great occasion

To leave an' go an' join the confirmation.]

It will have been observed that rhyming is the last thing sought

after. Here, however, we have a genius who has set his mind upon it

with some success. Patience, as pronounced by the Jamaican without the

final letters, is a good and new rhyme to the rest. In the old days of

slavery, says the father, they did not have the occasion (_i.e._

opportunity) to leave their work to go and be confirmed.

The Black man is such an accomplished actor that he can assume any

character. In these sings he throws off the stage trappings and shows

his real attitude towards religion, his indifference and levity. He

does not take it as a serious matter at all, and it has no effect upon

his daily life. To go to church is a mark of respectability. To obtain

that mark is one of his reasons for going. The other reason is to show

his clothes and his boots. He will talk like a saint for the mere

pleasure of rolling out words, and the ministers have to pretend to

believe something of what he says. They are not, however, really

deceived, and will tell you in private with a sigh that Christianity

makes no progress; it is profession without practice. Of the Negro's

real religion, which is bound up with Obeah, we get hardly a hint in

the sings. This is what we should expect. Some things lie too deep for

words and a man's religion is one of them. One general reference I

have been able to find, and one particular one, and that is all. Here

is the first:--

CXLIV.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Obeah down de why oh! Obeah down de,

Obeah down de why oh! Obeah down de.

Giberaltar is a well fine place but Obeah down de,

Giberaltar is a well fine place but Obeah down de.]

CXLV.

And here the second:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

The other day me waistcoat cut,

What a pain an' grief to me.

I spend me money but the beggar don't dead,

What a pain an' grief to me.

All me money gone like butter 'gainst sun,

What a pain an' grief to me!

Sake of the man me live 'pon tree,

What a pain an' grief to me!]

Obeah (pronounced in two syllables, Ob-ya, with short Italian vowels)

is the dark blot upon this fair island of Jamaica. In every district

there is an Obeah-man, or Bush-doctor, as he is often called, from his

supposed knowledge of herb simples. He is by no means the innocent

person which this latter designation would seem to imply. He deals in

magic and sorcery of all descriptions, and there is not a Black man

who does not believe in his powers. They consult him on every

conceivable business and he gets heavy fees. He will secure a man the

favour of his master so that he shall not lose his place, or help him

to revenge a wrong, real or fancied. And herein lies the danger. The

puerilities of inefficacious charms and mysterious ceremonies with

which he deludes his clients are not all. He keeps poison in his bag,

and for sufficient reward arsenic has been obtained to put in the

liqueur, or ground glass for the coffee. The Government attempts in

vain to stamp out the evil.

The story of the last sing is briefly this. A has a friend who is an

Obeah-man. From him he gets Obeah to injure an enemy B. The enemy does

not suffer. So A says his waistcoat is torn, a figurative way of

expressing the fact that he is beaten, B's Obeah turning out to be

stronger than A's and able to repel it. Having indiscreetly talked

about what he meant to do to B, B reports him to the police, and he

has to abscond and seek shelter in the bush till the matter blows

over.

CXLVI.

It is a pleasure to be able to leave the hypocrisy of Negro

Christianity, and the lurid atmosphere of Obeah and to return to

everyday amusements.

[Music: _5th Figure._

All them gal a ride merry-go-round,

Me no see no gal like a dem ya.

Ride him, ride him, ride him, ride him,

Ride him round the town,

Ride him, ride him, ride him, ride him,

Ride him round the town.]

The merry-go-round is popular. "I never saw such girls," says an

admiring bystander. Literally, "I have not seen any girls like those

(here) girls." A neighbour of mine used to be made very angry when he

first came to Jamaica because when he asked "Have you seen so-and-so?"

the answer always was "I don't see him." This is good negro English

for "I haven't seen him." It does not mean, as he thought, "I don't

see him now," and the poor boy could not understand why his master got

so "crahss."

CXLVII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Merry-go-round a go fall down, fall down, fall down,

Merry-go-round a go fall down,

Sake a de worthless rider.

Rider, rider, try to sit down good;

Rider, rider, try to sit down good,

Merry-go-round a go fall down.]

Grammar nowhere as usual. It was not the Merry-go-round that was going

to fall down, but the worthless (_i.e._ bad) rider who was going to

fall off. "Try to sit down good" is an exhortation to hold on well.

This curious use of "try" is found again in:--

CXLVIII.

[Music: _Mazurka._

Try, dear, don't tell a lie,

For I will never marry you.

Try an' 'peak the truth me dear,

An' you shall get the ring me dear.]

CXLIX.

Here are two more references to the colour question:

[Music: _1st Figure._

Look how you mout',

Look how you mout' fe go kiss moolatta.

Look how you mout',

Look how you mout' like a pan.]

CL.

[Music: _Valse._

Breezy say him no want Brown lady,

Afterward him go take Brown lady.

Why! Why! Why, Breezy!

Think you say you no want Brown lady.]

CLI.

Here are three sings referring to Colon, the port of disembarkation

for labourers on the Panama Canal:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Isaac Park gone a Colon,

Colon boat a go kill them boy.

Colon bolow[57] gone a Colon,

Colon bolow gone a Colon,

Colon boat a go kill them boy.]

[Footnote 57: _Bolow_, comrade.]

It was not the boat from Kingston to Colon that killed the boys; the

deaths took place on the other side. Many were due to fever, but

more, if the stories current here are true, to organised

assassination. The wages were very large, and when a Jamaica boy has

money in his pocket he gets "boastify." This annoyed the low-class

mongrels. A Coolie who was there described to me the proceedings of

one night, when the 'panish (by which is meant any straight-haired

people) went out in a band and murdered every woolly-haired man they

met. They began at one end of the camp, a straight line of barrack

huts. Some of the victims were shot through the windows, others

slashed with cutlasses. Where there were no lights the assassins

passed their hands over the strangers' heads, and if they felt wool,

revolver or cutlass did its work. Straight-haired Coolies, that is to

say, East Indians, were allowed to go unharmed.

CLII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Matilda de 'pon dyin' bed,

Me want go Colabra,

Matilda, de 'pon dyin' bed.]

When anybody is very ill all the members of the family, including

quite distant relatives, think it incumbent upon them to go to the

sick person's yard. They crowd into the house and sick-room and pour

out a clatter of talk.

Colabra (Culebra) is a place near Colon. Matilda must have been an old

Jamaica acquaintance who had gone over to settle there.

CLIII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Mas' Charley say want kiss Matty,

Kiss with a willing mind,

Me rarabum why! Colon money done,

Me rarabum why! Colon money done.]

"Me rarabum" is a nonsense phrase equivalent to "my boy." "My boy, hi!

the money I made at Colon is done!"

CLIV.

Here is the lament of an out-of-work cabdriver:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Me buggy a sell fe eight an' sixpence

Whe me a go get fe drive?

Me buggy a sell fe eight an' sixpence,

Whe me a go get fe drive?

Me buggy sell at last, poor me boy!

Whe me a go get fe drive?

Me buggy sell at last, poor me boy!

Whe me a go get fe drive?]

CLV.

The words of the next dance have a certain interest, but the tune is

poor:--

[Music: _Polka._

Oh 'zetta Ford, gal, you name no worth a cuss!

Tief big big hog,

Put ahm in a jar.

Piccany da cry,

Sit down whole a day,

You tief big big hog,

Nyam ahm out a door.]

The girl stole the pig, killed it, cut it up and put the meat into a

jar. This was done out in the bush, far away from her yard, and took

the whole day. Meanwhile her poor little babies were starving at home,

having been left without any one to look after them.

CLVI.

There is an idyllic simplicity about the following:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Birdyzeena, Birdyzeena,

Come make we go da Champong market,

Come make we go, dear,

Come make we go da Champong market.]

CLVII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Me an' Katie no 'gree,

Katie wash me shirt in a sea.

If you t'ink a lie,

Look in a Katie yeye.]

CLVIII.

Water seems formerly to have been scarce in Kingston, judging by the

following:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Down town gal no have no water to wash them head

to keep them clean.

Down town gal no have no water to wash them head

to keep them clean.

Why! Why! Why! Take them gal in charge.

Why! Why! Why! policeman,

Take them gal in charge.]

CLIX.

The policeman is not always on the spot when he is wanted:--

[Music: _4th Figure._

Sal you ought to been ashame!

You tief Mister Dixon Brahma,

You nyam ahm a Yaws-house[58] level,

Sally ought to been ashame.]

[Footnote 58: _Yaws_, see p. 57.]

In this country any plot of ground that is moderately flat is called a

level.

CLX.

[Music: _4th Figure._

Good morning, Mister Harman,

How are you this morning?

I brought a serious complain about the old Barbadian.

What about the 'badian?

Him shirt has no border,

Him face favour marlan,

Come give me me one an' ninepence.]

The singer goes to Mr. Harman, who is employing the Barbadian (whom he

accuses of wearing a ragged shirt and having a face like a

marlingspike), to try and get some money which the latter owes the

complainant. This is an excellent example in short of an interview

between two Black men. Of the sixteen bars four are occupied with

salutation, four with complaint, and four with abuse. Two are given to

a question as to the cause of complaint which receives no answer, and

two to a demand for money owed by another person. So we have

three-quarters of the interview devoted in equal parts to compliment,

complaint, and abuse; one-eighth to an attempt on the part of the

person interviewed to discover what is amiss; and one-eighth to a

demand for money from the wrong man.

CLXI.

The lovers' quarrel which comes next is evidently not serious:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Hullo me honey!

Hullo me sugar!

Hullo me old time gal!

Oh den, gal, if you love me,

Why don't you write me?

Hullo me old time gal!

Hullo me honey!

Hullo me sugar!

Hullo me old time boy!

Oh den, boy, I wouldn' married you,

Not for a fardin',

Hullo me old time boy!]

CLXII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

When mumma dere you say you sick,

Dis mumma gone you get better,

'tan' 'teady till him come 'tan' 'teady,

'tan' 'teady till him come 'tan' 'teady.]

When mamma tells her daughter to take her hoe and come out into the

field she feigns sickness. Her brother comes in and finds her quite

well. "All right," he says, "just (dis) you stand steady ('teudy,

French _eu_), just you wait till she comes home and you will get a

flogging."

CLXIII.

We never go far without meeting some story about petty thieving:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Oh Jilly oh! how you manage a jump the window?

Doctor Clark a one an' tanner,

Major Black a two an' six,

Mister Nelson three an' six,

How you manage a jump the window?]

Jilly had been "tiefing" money and made her escape by jumping out of

window. "Tanner," for sixpence, is common in English slang but not

here. It seems to have been derived in this case from the White

soldiers at Newcastle.

CLXIV.

[Music: _5th Figure._

James Brown, you mahmy call you.

James Brown a shake him shoulder.

Sake a the young gal butterdore,

James Brown a shake him shoulder.]

To express dissent they do not shake their heads but wriggle the whole

of their bodies. It is a most expressive action.

A butterdore, more properly butter-dough, is a kind of cake.

CLXV.

The next repeats the idea of No. CXVIII., but in the mouth of a girl.

[Music: _4th Figure._

When I go home I will tell me mumma say,

When I go home I will tell me mumma say

That the boy in the country love me very much.]

CLXVI.

The next is the only example of pure fiction that I have met with:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Feather, feather, feather,

Baby da born with feather.

You cut off the fowl head an' boil it in a 'tew-pan,

Baby da born with feather.

Feather, feather oh!

Baby da born with feather.

Feather, feather oh!

Baby da born with feather.

You cut off the fowl head an' boil it with the feather,

So the baby go born with feather.

I hear the news as I re'ch to Hagley Gap,

Say baby da born with feather.

Something me never hear,

Something me never hear that Baby can born with feather.

Something me never hear,

Something me never hear that Baby can born with feather.]

All the other sings are chronicles of true events, and it is an

exceptional case to find one purely the offspring of imagination like

this one. The compiler of the words could not get quite free of

actuality; he puts in Hagley Gap, which is the name of a pass through

the hills. I once asked why it was so called and was told because it

was a hugly place. The cooking described savours of Obeah.

CLXVII.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

When the rain an' the breeze an' the storm an' the sun

I never see a man like Quaco Sam,

He live in the sun as well as the rain,

I never see a man like Quaco Sam.

Quaco Sam was a little bit a man,

I never see a man like a Quaco Sam,

For he never build a house but he live as any man,

I never see a funny man as Quaco Sam.]

CLXVIII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully;

'cratch me back, me will make one shirt fe you fe you.

Anch a bite me,

Anch a bite me a me back gully, gully;

'cratch me back me will make one shirt fe you.]

Small black ants often swarm on the orange-trees, and the pickers, who

do not use ladders but climb the branches, get covered with them. We

all know that place in the "gully" or furrow of the back which we

cannot reach ourselves.

CLXIX.

[Music: _4th Figure._

Me know one gal a Cross Road,

Name of Lucy Banker,

Him boil the long long cabbage bush,

Him go long like a sailor nanchor.

Follow me, follow me,

You no see whe the gal a follow me,

Follow me, then follow me,

You no see whe the gal a follow me.]

The story of the foregoing sing is this:--Lucy asked a fiddler and his

friend to breakfast. The cooking was bad. The boiled bananas, which

should have been light brown, were black, and the cabbage was not done

enough, so that it was ropy or "long," as they aptly describe it. For

these shortcomings the fiddler "put her a sing," _i.e._ put her into a

sing.

CLXX.

[Music: _Schottische._

Moonshine baby, don't you cry,

Mumma will bring somet'ing fe you,

Some fe you,

Some fe me,

Fe we go boil wi' dirty pot.]

This is a hit at another careless cook who had disregarded the

time-honoured rule, "First wash your pot."

A moonshine baby is a pretty baby.

CLXXI.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

I have a news to tell you all about the Mowitahl men,[59]

Time is harder ev'ry day an' harder yet to come.

They made a dance on Friday night an' failed to pay the drummer,

Say that they all was need of money to buy up their August pork.

Don't let them go free, drummer!

For your finger cost money to tickle the poor goat-'kin.

Not if the pork even purchase self

Take it away for your labour,

For your finger cost money to tickle the poor goat-'kin.]

[Footnote 59: Mowitahl = Mowatt Hall.]

The first of August (Ahgust as they call it) is the anniversary of

Emancipation Day, and is a time of feasting and rejoicing. As in the

case of wedding festivities, they do not limit themselves to one day,

and holiday-making goes on for a week or longer.

The goat-skin drum is pitied for the thumping it gets. So a man will

often stroke his picker (pickaxe) and say:--"He no a come out if he

t'ought him face would a jam so a dirty," he would not have come out

if he had thought his face was going to be thrust so hard into the

ground.

"Self" is a redundant word. It strengthens "even if."

CLXXII.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Once I was a trav'ller,

trav'ller over the mountain,

I nearly dead for water

but a young gal show me the fountain.

Why, why me picny!

You shall be me wife.

Show me you mammy an' you daddy,

An' you shall be me wife.

I have another sister,

she blind she cannot see,

But, if you wish to court her,

you can come with me.

Why, why me picny!

you shall be me wife.

Show me you mammy an' you daddy,

An' you shall be me wife.]

When a Black man says he is nearly dead for water he only means that

he is rather thirsty.

This sing is of an unusual form and suggests a foreign origin.

CLXXIII.

Here, on the contrary, is something typically Jamaican:--

[Music: _5th Figure._

Oh! me wouldn' bawl at all,

For the policeman come tell a lie 'pon me.]

A boy who has been arrested, conscious of his innocence, does not go

through the usual pantomime of shrieks and tears. The policeman

(observe the accent on the word) told a lie about me, he says.

CLXXIV.

Thoroughly Jamaican too, as to its words at least, is:--

[Music: _Jig._

You take junka 'tick fe go lick maugre dog,

You take junka 'tick fe go lick maugre dog;

When maugre dog dead a whe you a go do?

Whe you a go do, Birdie?

Whe you a go do?]

This is a remonstrance addressed by a mother to her daughter who has

taken up a short stick to beat her. "It is true," she says, "that I am

but a lean dog, but when the lean dog is dead what are you going to

do?" (_Maugre_, French _maigre_, pronounced _mahgher_.)

CLXXV.

[Music: _John Canoe dance._

Yellow fever come in,

Me can't walk again;

Him broke me hand, him broke me foot,

Me can't walk again.]

The "John Canoe" are masked dancers very agile in their movements.

Yellow fever is now happily rare in Jamaica. "It has come and caught

me," says the patient, "and broken my arms and legs so that I really

can't walk."

"Again" has a curious use here, which is perhaps better shown by the

following illustration. A man was reported to be dead. Next day came

the intelligence:--"He don't dead again," he is not dead after all, he

is not really dead. Compare No. LXII.

CLXXVI.

[Music: _Schottische._

Jimmy Rampy a come oh, Sal oh!

Some a wash him foot, some a comb him hair,

Some a put him to bed, put him to bed oh, Sal oh!

Jimmy Rampy a come oh! Sal oh!

Jimmy Rampy a come oh, Sal oh!

Some a wash him foot, some a comb him hair,

Some a put him to bed, put him to bed oh, Sal oh!]

"Sal oh!" is perhaps a corruption of _Salut_. Tradition associates a

curtsey with the word.

CLXXVII.

The next calls to mind the Ring tune (No. XCIX.), "Rosybel oh, why oh!"

[Music: _5th Figure._

Susan very well, why oh!

Susan chop bolow with tumbler,

Susan go chop bolow with tumbler,

Susan go chop bolow with tumbler.]

A case of assault with a broken piece of glass. Here is something more

serious:--

CLXXVIII.

[Music: _1st Figure._

Bahss, Bahss, you married you wife;

Bahss, Bahss, you married you wife,

You married you wife an' kill him again.

You take up you wife an' carry him to church,

An' afterward you kill her again.[60]]

[Footnote 60: _Bahss_, Boss. "Carry him" is in two syllables, sounding

like _ca-yim_.]

CLXXIX.

The next is a pretty lullaby, which they call a Nursing sing:--

[Music:

Blackbird a eat puppa corn, oh!

Come go da mountain, go drive them,

Blackbird a eat puppa corn, oh!

Blackbird a eat puppa corn.]

CLXXX.

[Music: _Schottische._

Me da Coolie sleep on piazza with me wrapper round me shoulder,

Me da Coolie sleep on piazza with me wrapper round me shoulder.]

"Me da," literally, "I is," I am.

The piazza, which is not pronounced in the Italian way but nearly

rhymes with razor, is the long narrow entrance-room of Jamaican

houses. A wrapper is a large piece of linen which serves all sorts of

purposes. It is used as an article of clothing both by day and night,

and also makes a convenient bag for rice.

Many of the East Indian Coolies, originally brought over to work on

plantations, have now settled in Jamaica.

CLXXXI.

[Music: _Schottische._

Notty Shaw, you better go home;

Notty, run in the garden an' pick a bunch of flowers;

Notty Shaw, you better go home;

Notty Shaw, you mother want you service;

Notty, go in the garden you see a bunch of rose;

Notty Shaw, you better go home.]

"Notty" is short for Nathaniel.

"Rose" means any kind of flowers. When they want to indicate what we

call roses they say "sweet-rose."

CLXXXII.

[Music: _1st Figure._

You worthless Becca Watson,

You ought to been ashame.

Them write you name an' t'row it a pass,

you ought to been ashame.]

A familiar tune, I think a mixture of two.

To write disparaging remarks on paper, which is then thrown in the

"pass" (path, road), for anybody to pick up and read, is a common

trick. The epithet "worthless" seems to imply that Becca was not

altogether free from blame. They seldom say "bad." It is almost always

"worthless."

CLXXXIII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Since the waggonette come in

Parker take to heart dead,

Since the waggonette come in

Parker take to heart dead.

Never mind conductor,

Parker take to heart dead.

Never mind conductor,

Parker take to heart dead.]

The reference is to a local enterprise, the Waggonette Company. It

unfortunately failed, and the death of a person interested in its

success, happening immediately after, is attributed to the failure.

For "come in" we should say "were taken off."

CLXXXIV.

[Music: _Schottische or 4th Figure._

Them Gar'n Town people them call me follow-line,

Somebody dying here ev'ry day.

A ten pound order him kill me pardner,

A ten pound order him kill me pardner

For somebody dying here ev'ry day.

Den number nine tunnel I would not work de,

Den number nine tunnel I would not work de

For somebody dying here ev'ry day.]

An incident, or perhaps it were better to say an accident, in the

making of the road to Newcastle. A man who undertook a piece of

contract work for L10 was killed by a falling stone. The so-called

tunnels are cuttings. Number nine had a very bad reputation.

Gordon Town is a hamlet nine miles from Kingston. The driving road

ends there, and access to the mountain district beyond is obtained

only by mule tracks.

Strangers are called "follow-line" because, as they come down from

their homes in the higher hills, they walk in strings. No Black man or

woman ever goes alone if he can help it. He always hitches on to

somebody else, and the string increases in length as it passes along.

This walking in Indian file is necessitated by the narrowness of the

track, which is seldom wide enough for two to walk abreast.

The tune has the character of a march rather than of a dance, but I am

assured it is used for a Schottische, which has a somewhat slower

measure than a Polka, and for Fourth Figure. Their cleverness in

adapting the same steps to different rhythms has been already

commented on.

CLXXXV.

The last of our tragedies, a murder this time, is chronicled in:--

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Young gal in Jamaica take warning,

Never leave your mother house alone,

For that was the cause why Alice get her death while

driving in the May Pen cyar.]

"The May Pen cyar" is a tramway which runs to May Pen, the cemetery of

Kingston.

CLXXXVI.

[Music: _4th Figure._

Me no min de a concert the night

When Martha an' Pompey catch a fight.

Da Martha da Pompey,

Da Martha da Pompey catch a fight.]

"Me no min de," literally, "I not been there," I was not there. Nobody

hearing these words for the first time would ever suspect that they

were English. People are always said to "catch fight" when they come

to blows.

Few of the old classical slave names like Pompey now survive.

CLXXXVII.

[Music: _1st Figure._

Complain complain complain,

Complain about me one,

Me daddy complain,

me mahmy complain,

Complain about me one.]

"Me one," _i.e._ "only me." Everlasting complaints, always about me!

(What child does not suffer in this way?) In Negro speech _complain_

stands for complaint as well as for the verb.

CLXXXVIII.

Elderly readers will recognise a popular song of thirty years ago in

the following:--

[Music: _2nd Figure._

I can't walk on the bare road, cyart man,

I can't walk at all;

When I remember,

When I remember them.

Oh Captain Baker, I never can walk again,

For when I remember the cyart man, cyart man,

When I remember them.]

These words taken as a whole refer to the carts of the United Fruit

Company of which Captain Baker is the manager. In defiance of rules

girls may be seen perched on top of the bunches of bananas in the

laden carts.

CLXXXIX.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Come go da mountain,

Come go da mountain go pick coco finger,

Busha Webb an' all a pick coco finger,

Busha Webb an' all a pick coco finger;

Pick coco finger,

Come go da mountain go pick coco finger.]

"Come let us go to the mountain and dig cocoes. Overseer Webb and

everybody is digging them." A plan often adopted is to dig round the

root, search for the tubers, pick them off and then push back the

soil. This may be the picking referred to, only the tubers do not look

like fingers. They are the shape of a peg-top.

Another suggestion is that the fingers are the young rolled-up leaves

which are picked before they expand for spinach. This variety of

interpretation, coupled with the fact that the word _finger_, always

applied to bananas, is never used in speaking of cocoes, points to

this being a very old sing.

CXC.

[Music: _Valse._

Amanda Grant, me yerry your name,

yerry your name a bamboo root.

Why! Why! me yerry your name,

Why! Why! yerry your name,

Me yerry your name a bamboo root.]

Amanda stole some money and hid it at the foot of a bamboo.

CXCI.

[Music: _2nd Figure._

Last night I was lying on me number,

An' a foolish man come wake me out of slumber,

Say Why oh! Why oh!

I never see a woman dancing with a wooden leg.

Bammerlichy, bammerlichy, bamby,

I never see a woman dancing with a wooden leg.]

The scene is laid in the People's Shelter at Kingston which has

numbered sleeping-berths.

At "Bammerlichy" etc. the dancers imitate the stiff action of a wooden

leg.

CXCII.

[Music: _5th Figure._

Me lassie me dundooze,

me dundooze come kiss me,

The kiss that you give me it rest on me mind

till it give me the aygo.

When we married an' settled down we have no cause to say,

For as soon as the parson pass up the sentence

nothing to part us.]

"Dundooze" (or dundoze, for it is rather hard to catch the vowel) is a

term of endearment. Others are, honey, lover, sugar, sweety, marvel,

bolow, bahzoon.

"Aygo" is ague; "say," perhaps, sunder.

CXCIII.

The next conveys an appreciative reference to a proprietor who is a

large employer of labour.

[Music: _Polka._

Mister Davis bring somet'ing fe we all,

Mister Davis bring somet'ing fe we all.

Oh him bring black gal,

An' him bring brown gal,

An' him bring yaller gal an' all.]

CXCIV.

[Music: _5th Figure._

A whe the use you da hang da me neck-back,

Married man me no want you.

Turn back, married man, turn back, you brute,

Turn back married man, married man a dog.]

CXCV.

[Music: _4th Figure._

Quattywort' of this!

Quattywort' of that!

till him come up to a shilling oh!

Why Brown man!

you have a nasty way, Robson.]

The boy has run up a score at the shop and professes astonishment at

the items and the total. Black trusts White more than Brown.

CXCVI.

We end with the pretty flowing melody:--

[Music: _Schottische._

Mahngoose a come, Dory,

Mahngoose a come.

All them gal are dead fe Dory,

Mahngoose a come.

Come back me dear Dory,

Come back me dear.

All them gal are dead fe Dory,

Mahngoose a come.]

The mongoose was introduced into Jamaica to kill the rats.

Unfortunately rats sleep in the day and the mongoose sleeps at night,

so they never met. How the mongoose took instead to killing chickens

has been often told. Dory is having a private interview with a girl

who has another admirer. This man has announced his intention of

chastising Dory. "Mongoose has come" is a preconcerted formula which

means, "the other man has come, Dory, look out!" When a gang of

labourers is working and one of them catches sight of his master in

the distance, he will sing this song and the others understand that

they must pretend to be busy.

THE END.

NOTE.--(_Accidentally omitted on page 77_: _Cf._ Nos. 56, 67, 132,

133).

Marriage is, unhappily, often a failure. The woman, in marrying, has

attained the goal of her ambition. Now that she is Mrs. Smith she

"sits down" and refuses to help her husband, provision-ground food is

not good enough for her, and she is always calling out for a new

frock. In a few years the couple separate and the home is broken up,

with disastrous consequences to the children. In the old days the

custom was to defer the ceremony (as Constantine deferred his baptism)

to a very late period. This plan worked very well. The couple did not

marry till they knew for certain that they suited each other, and

often their well-brought-up children and grandchildren danced at the

wedding.

_APPENDIX._

_A._ TRACES OF AFRICAN MELODY IN JAMAICA.

I have been asked to read through this book in proof, with the object

of ascertaining whether the Jamaican songs bear any traces of an

African origin.

Unfortunately, it must be confessed at the outset that our knowledge

of African music is scantier than that of almost any other kind of

primitive music. In other regions of the globe the phonograph has been

effectively utilised in acquiring accurate records of songs and

dances. These records have been brought back to Europe, where they

have been studied at leisure and their peculiarities of interval and

rhythm have been precisely determined.

But in the case of African music (apart from a few imperfectly studied

records in my own possession) we have to rely entirely on the versions

which travellers have taken down for us in the field. We have to

assume, in the first place, the correctness of their 'musical ear,'

and in the second place, the possibility of expressing in European

notation those delicate shades of pitch and time in which the

characteristics of primitive music so essentially consist. And both

these are unwarrantable assumptions.

However, from our study of comparative music elsewhere, we may make

one statement with certainty, namely, that _an_ African music does not

exist. There must be almost as many styles of native music in Africa

as in Europe--varieties differing not only broadly in general form and

structure, but also more minutely in the intervals and rhythms which

are employed.

I have been informed by travellers in West Africa that surprising

differences occur in the degree of development of musical art even in

closely neighbouring regions. In one district hardly any music is to

be heard at all; in another the music is most uncouth; in a third it

is highly agreeable to the European ear; while some parts of West

Africa have advanced to the stage of part-singing.

The most erroneous notions have been expressed as to the nature of

African music. I have seen it stated that African songs consist in a

gradual descent from a higher to a lower pitched note. That this is

far from being usually the case is shown in the following specimens,

which I have gathered from various narratives of African travel.

[Music: _Boat Song. Congo District._]

II.

[Music: _Boat Song. Congo District._]

III.

[Music: _Song of Bawili Women._]

IV.

[Music: _Funeral Song. Angola._]

[Music: _Song. Angola._]

VI.

[Music: _Song. M. Balunda._]

VII.

[Music: _Dance-Song. M. Balunda._]

VIII.

[Music: _Boat Song. Guinea Coast._]

IX.

[Music: _Song. I. of Bimbia._]

Songs I. and II. from _La route du Tchad_. Jean Dybowski.

Paris. 1893. pp. 198-9.

Songs III.-VII. from _Aus West-Afrika_. Hermann Soyaux.

Leipzig. 1879.

Song VIII. from _Einige Notizen ueber Bonny_. Goettingen.

1848.

Song IX. from _A Narrative of the Expedition ... to the

River Niger_. London. 1848.

A great deal might be said about the general character of these songs,

_e.g._ the simplicity and brevity of the phrases, and the fondness for

triple measure.

But I pass on to consider three very interesting examples of Jamaican

music which, thanks to my friend Mr. N.W. Thomas, I have found

recorded in 1688 in Sir Hans Sloane's _Voyage to Jamaica_. "Upon one

of the Festivals where a great many of the Negro Musicians were

gathered together," he writes, "I desired Mr. Baptiste, the best

musician there, to take the words they sung and set them to Musick

which follows."

[Music: _Angola Song._

Hobaognion

Hoba

Hobaognion ognion.]

XI.

[Music: _Papa Song._]

XII.

[Music: _Koromanti Songs._

Meri Bonbo mich langa meri wa langa.]

From _A Voyage to ... Jamaica ..._ by Hans Sloane, M.D.

London. 1707. Vol. i. pp. l, li.

The words of these songs are _Hobaognion, ognion_ and _Meri Bonbo mich

langa meri wa langa._ Sir Hans Sloane observes that the Jamaican

negroes of that time had their native instruments: (i) gourds with

necks and strung with horsehair, (ii) a "hollow'd Timber covered with

Parchment," having a bow for its neck, the strings tied longer or

shorter.

These songs, however inaccurately recorded, are of the greatest value

for the hint they give us of Jamaican music as it existed over two

centuries ago. It will be observed that the songs are named 'Angola'

and 'Koromanti,' according to their African _provenance_. In the

present collection of modern songs, reference is made in Song CI. to

Koromanti ('Cromanty'). So, too, the word 'Bungo' in Song CXXVI. no

doubt refers to the large Bongo district of Africa (cf. 'Bungo talk,'

p. 12, _n._).

We can hardly expect to find considerable traces of this aboriginal

African music after two centuries of missionary and of trade

influence. African travellers have repeatedly told us how prone the

negro is to introduce fresh tunes from other villages and to adapt

them to his own purposes. Indeed, the contaminating influence which

the Arabs and Portuguese have exercised upon primitive African music

makes the study of the latter especially difficult.

But a community does not adopt exotic music without at the same time

exercising selection. Those melodies have the greatest chance of

success which, to some degree at least, follow the current canons of

public taste. Revolutionary innovations are rare. The gradual changes

in taste which take place are the result of such selective adoption of

foreign music as we have indicated.

There is one feature in the above-quoted 'Angola' song which is also

shared by the modern songs of this collection, namely, the presence of

'bobbins' or short refrains.

The simplicity in structure of the songs is still a feature of

Jamaican music. I may be allowed to call attention to the repetition

of single phrases in Song XVIII. and to the building up of simple

phrases in Songs LXXVII. and LXXIX.

I had hoped that some light might be thrown on the antiquity of

certain songs by the presence of nonsense words; but in this I was

disappointed.

I quite agree with Miss Broadwood (see next page) that the majority of

the songs are of European origin. The negroes have learnt them from

hearing sailors' chanties or they have adopted hymn tunes.

But adoption always involves adaptation. A song is modified to suit

the current canons of taste. In Song L. I observe 'Home, Sweet Home'

and (in the latter half) a hymn tune which I frequently heard in the

Torres Straits. Song CXXXIX. is doubtless 'The British Grenadiers.'

But it, again, has not been adopted without modification.

Needless to say, a detailed study of these modifications would throw

light on the characteristics of modern Jamaican music.

In Song XXXI. a typical non-European modification is the insertion of

an extra (the fifth) bar, so that the phrase consists of nine bars.

The five time in Song XI., the change of accent at the close of Song

XXIV. and in Song XLI., are no doubt the expression of African delight

in the complexities of rhythm.

In the already-quoted 'Koromanti song,' we may observe the curious

temporary change of rhythm in the second air, and the characteristic

measure which prevails throughout the third air with its syncopation

and almost baffling changes. Such features are precisely what we

should expect to meet with among a primitive people who more than two

centuries ago doubtless possessed in a still higher degree that

delight in complication of rhythm which according to Mr. Jekyll (p.

6) persists among their descendants of to-day. For a more detailed

study of this aspect of the subject I may perhaps refer enquirers to

my "Study of Rhythm in Primitive People" (_British Journal of

Psychology_, vol. i. pp. 397-406).

The present taste and preferences of the Jamaican negroes may perhaps

be gauged by the similarities and differences in the first bars of

Songs LXIII., LXIV., and LXXVIII., by the similarity of Songs I. and

VIII., XV. and XXVII., and of the bobbins in LIV. and LXVIII.

But it is not my intention to make a detailed analysis of the songs of

the present volume. My object has been rather to emphasize our present

ignorance of African music, and to indicate the lines along which a

more intimate acquaintance with African and Jamaican songs may be

expected to lead to conclusions as to their relation to one another.

C.S. MYERS.

_B._ ENGLISH AIRS AND MOTIFS IN JAMAICA.

By far the greater part of these Jamaican tunes and song-words seem to

be reminiscences, or imitations, of European sailors' "chanties" of

the modern class; or of trivial British nursery-jingles adapted, as

all such jingles become adapted.

Except in the cases specified below, I have not found one Jamaican

tune which is _entirely_ like any one English or European tune that I

happen to know. But unrecorded folk-tunes are essentially fluid, and

pass through endless transformations. In all countries any one

traditional ballad may be sung to dozens of distinct traditional

tunes, each of these again having variants. It is therefore quite

possible that versions of some of the older-sounding Jamaican airs are

being sung unrecorded at this moment in the British Islands or

elsewhere.

I note below such instances of modal tunes as occur in this

collection. I should perhaps explain that by "Modes" are meant those

ancient scales (other than our major and minor scales) which amongst

European composers fell into disuse at the beginning of the 17th

century, but which survive still in the ancient Church Music

(popularly called "Gregorian"), and in the Folk Music of most European

countries, and notably that of the British Isles.

III. =King Daniel=, p. 14.

Cf. the old ballads "May Colvin" and "Young Hunting." In the latter

the parrot reveals a murder. In both ballads the lady makes the same

promises to the bird (see Child's _English and Scottish Popular

Ballads_).

VII. =The Three Sisters=, p. 26.

Although the story of the monster outwitted by the maiden he tries to

carry off is an almost world-wide _motif_, and is found in Africa

among other countries, this particular version has evidently been in

contact with European (English or Scottish) sources. This is shown not

only by the fact that the suitor proves to be the Devil, but by the

question and answer (misplaced by the story-teller):

"What is roguer than a womankind?"

"The Devil is roguer than a womankind."

This riddle appears in three versions of the ballad of "The Three

Sisters," otherwise "The Elfin Knight," or "Riddles wisely Expounded"

(Child, _English and Scottish Popular Ballads_, vol. i. pp. 1-6), as:

"O what is greener than the grass?

Or what is worse than e'er woman was?"

"O poison's greener than the grass,

And the Devil's worse than e'er woman was...."

"As soon as she the fiend did name,

He flew away in a blazing flame,"

says one version, but in the rest there is no disenchantment, and the

youngest sister wins the visitor as her husband by her ready wit in

replying, which Professor Child (_Additions and Corrections_, vol. v.

p. 283), thinks a modernization of the original story. He quotes a

manuscript version taken from a book of Henry VI.'s time, wherein the

"Elfin Knight" is the foul fiend himself _undisguised_.

For similar survivals of Riddle Songs and Tales see "There was a Lady

in the West" and "Scarborough Fair" in _English County Songs_, and

Kidson's _Traditional Tunes_, and "The Lover's Task" in _Songs of the

West_, etc.

The tune is evidently an old ballad air. It is in the Aeolian Mode.

XVII. =Man Crow=, p. 54.

The tune is the same as that sung in Worcestershire by children to "A

finger and thumb keep moving."

XVIII. =Saylan=, p. 59.

This is a version of "The Maid freed from the Gallows," "The Golden

Ball," or "The Prickly Bush." For the latter see _English County

Songs_. Child gives very exhaustive notes on the story and its

variants; also a tune, noted in North Carolina, "The Prickly Bush" has

a tune quite unlike Child's, and the Jamaican air is quite distinct

from both.

XXI. =Tacoma and the Old Witch Girl=, p. 65.

Cf. "The Keys of Heaven" in _English County Songs_, "Blue Muslin" in

_Songs of the West_, and "Madam I will gi'e you," etc., in _Journal of

the Folk-Song Society_, No. 7. All these airs are distinct from each

other, and from the Jamaican tune.

XXIX. =Parson Puss and Parson Dog=, p. 91.

This tune is the first half of the old French air "Ah, vous dirai-je,

Maman?" used so often by English children in their games. See note in

Moffat and Kidson's _Children's Songs and Games of Long Ago_, p. 42.

Other adaptations of the same tune are CXVI. (p. 215), CLXXVII. (p.

264), and CLXXXIX. (p. 272).

XXXI. =Pretty Poll=, p. 96.

Cf. "King Daniel." This is again the story of "May Colvin" or "The

Outlandish Knight." The tune "Come, pretty Poll" here given is rather

reminiscent of one traditional air to the ballad sung still in

different parts of England (where numerous tunes to the favourite

story have been noted). See "The Outlandish Knight" in _Songs of

Northern England_ (Stokoe and Reay) for the type of tune referred to,

but plentiful variants from Hertfordshire, the West of England,

Yorkshire, etc., exist in MS.

XXXVI. =Leah and Tiger=, p. 108.

The tune is in the Aeolian Mode.

LXIII. =Oh, Samuel, oh=, p. 168.

This tune is in the Mixolydian Mode.

LXXXVIII. =War down a Monkland=, p. 187.

The tune is in the Dorian Mode. By far the most interesting tune in

this collection. It is a fine Dorian air, I should think an old

traditional tune imported by English or Irish.

There are slight modal influences in other tunes, viz.: "Bad homan

oh," "Bell oh," "A Somerset me barn," "Whe me loon de," "Me da li,"

and "Since Dora Logan a wahk with Gallawoss" (Nos. 56, 57, 85, 91,

100, 122).

CXI., p. 209.

This tune is a variant of the well-known children's game-song, "Here

come three Dukes a-riding."

CXIX., p. 218.

The tune is a variant of one commonly sung in the North of England and

in various parts of Scotland, to a children's game, "Hullaballoo

ballie," in which reference is made to lifting the right foot and the

left foot.

CXXVII., p. 225.

This air is the first part of the tune of "O dem Golden Slippers," the

negro revival song of some twenty years ago.

CXXX., p. 227.

This is a reminiscence of the Scotch dance-tune usually sung to the

words "There's nae luck aboot the hoose."

CLXXVIII., p. 264.

This is a well-known old English dance-tune, known also in Scotland.

CLXXXII., p. 267.

The second part of this tune is merely a reminiscence of "We won't go

home till morning."

CLXXXVII., p. 271.

This tune is the first part of a very commonplace modern Italian

popular composition called "La Mandolinata," played on every

conceivable instrument, and sung also, about the year 1876 and for

some years afterwards.

L.E. BROADWOOD.

End of Project Gutenberg's Jamaican Song and Story, by Walter Jekyll