Negro Folk-Lore in South Carolina- Davis 1914 JOAFL

Negro Folk-Lore in South Carolina by Henry C. Davis
The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 27, No. 105 (Jul. - Sep., 1914), pp. 241-254

NEGRO FOLK-LORE IN SOUTH CAROLINA
BY HENRY C. DAVIS
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTH CAROLINA,
COLUMBUS, S.C.

[excerpt from a longer article]

To separate the lore of the negro from that of the white demands a searching-out of origins to determine what, amid his borrowings from the whites, is his peculiar inheritance, and what, in his present environment, he is creating as representative of his life. The one effort relates to his early history; the other, to his sociological condition. For both, material is lacking. Neither of these aims, however attractive and interesting, falls within the purpose of this paper, which, after all, is to record some negro-lore as gathered from negroes, without implying its separation necessarily from material that is white-lore. It seems, in fact, an error to suppose the lore of the races to be entirely distinct. Rather, it coincides along many lines, and separates where the cultures of the races bear apart. Though the negro's color clearly marks him off from the white man, and his life is different, there is no sharp dividing-line between his lore and that of the whites. Even before this fact becomes evident as one meets difficulties in making a separate classification, its truth seems inferrible, at least, from facts in the life of the races. Except on the great plantations, the races have been in intimate sociological contact. Extreme massing of negroes in quarters made the negro depend on his kind, and here it is that "gullah" predominates. Roughly, the greater the departure from the standard in dialect, the less is the lore of the negro like that of the white. Elsewhere, however, the close relationships of life brought the cultures nearer in lore. Many contacts are found in the relation of master and servant, mistress and maid, child and playmate or nurse; and, later, of employer and employee, seller and buyer, farmer and hired hand. Thus, a tale, a moon sign for planting, a ring-game, or a song, may appear in one place as negro-lore and in another as white-lore. "Go-in-and-out-the-window," for example, I have seen in Columbia, S.C., as a negro game, a chance happening; for the whites have played it, and apparently the negroes got it from the whites.

Superficially in the lore of the State there is great similarity; but its diversity points to group division somewhat along natural divisions. This fact of difference does not in itself separate negro-lore from whitelore; since it is unlikely, that, in the limited sphere of negro life, the negro would have retained all the lore that he has heard individually as the last link in an alien chain stretching back to Africa. And, while one cannot suppose a tendency toward selecting and retaining particular superstitions as his own, it seems true that he has chosen or forgotten unevenly, or has recalled incorrectly, or has re-created imaginatively; so that, as a result, we are confronted with this diversity. With him, an unballasted past is swamped in a present-day community life, unstable itself but an entity, pools after a rain. Hence the need of localizing the lore of the negro.

Along with this, there should be a study of his history and environment. When these have not been made out satisfactorily for the whites, it is not strange that as to the negroes the matter is in the dark. The negro has perhaps preserved an earlier stage of tradition, which has vanished among the whites; certainly his lore is less interfered with by literature and learning. If local history and genealogy illuminate the culture of larger units in other fields, why not that of folk-lore? In spite of an apparent homogeneity of peoples in South Carolina, there are in fact marked groupings which affect not only folk-lore, but all culture. Partly they are natural, partly due to fixity of abode, and aversion to change. The divisions are:

I. The up-country or Piedmont region, and the low-country or the coastal plain;
2. The negro and the white, a cross-division athwart the others;
3. The rich and the poor;
4. The industrial or milling class and the agricultural;
5. National or folk, according to place of settlement within the borders of the State.

While similar divisions exist elsewhere, these are real, not mechanical divisions: they are at once to be recognized. The increasing wealth and the diffusion of education in the schools, along with greater means for travel and narrower specialization, calling for a swarming-out of the old hives, will make away entirely with local characteristics. Before this blending of regions of folk-lore by the stirring-about of peoples can happen, it is well to record songs and sayings as of negro or of white, by county, and according to social or economic condition. Coast, "gullah," German, Scotch-Irish, negro, town, mill district, farm, mountaineer,--these are terms worth while in noting South Carolina lore and in assigning it to particular counties. As the field for gathering material widens, or, rather, deepens, the greater the necessity of recording, where possible, all facts as to the source of the information.

NEGRO SONGS

I. SPIRITUAL, GENERAL, WORK, WAR-TIME

In negro songs, South Carolina is rich. Twoscore are represented in whole or in part, and further search will bring to light a great many more. Omitting the usual hymns, which, however, are often characteristically modified in tune and in words, we have the following by no means complete list of negro songs of the spirit.

1. I don' wan' be buried in de Storm.
2. Joy, Joy in my Soul.
3. Baptizing Song: Sheep and Goat.
4. Oh, yes, Lord!
5. She's the Holy City.
6. The Old Ship of Zion.
7. Who built de Ark, Brudder No-rah, No-rah.
8. Co-lock she rock (Old Ark she rock).
9. I have some Friends in Glory.
Io. Rest for the Weary.
II. Room enough in Paradise.
12. Pluck upon yo' Harp: Little David.
13. You shall be free when the Good Lord set you free.
14. Pharaoh's Army got drownded: Sister Mary, don't you weep.
15. Jerusalem Mornin'.
16. Sister Mary, where you kim frim (come from).
17. I'm on my Way.
18. Lock de Lion's Jaw.

Among songs of a general nature occur enough to suggest the incompleteness of the list. A mere scratching of the surface yields fifteen showing great variety. More will undoubtedly appear later.

1. You can't break this Sad Heart of mine.
2. Lulu, my Darling.
3. Bird in a Cage.
4. It's Nobody's Business.
5. Coonshine: I got a House in Baltimore.
6. Ain't it hard to be a Nigger!
7. What you going to do when your Meat give out?
8. Gim' crack Corn, I don' care.
9. Rounzip Corn.
10. Jesse James.
11. A Little mo' Cider, Cider.
12. Git along Home, Sally Gal.
13. I had a Sheep, Baa.
14. I'm looking for that Bully of the Town.
I5. De Bell done ring, de Drum done beat (Antebellum).

The following seem more particularly adapted to be sung at work:

I. "That's the Hammer killed John Henry;"
2. "On the Mountain;"
3. "The Yaller Gal."

However, any good song would seem to serve for this purpose. Among war-time songs of the negroes I hestitate to include "Say, Darkies, did you see Old Maussa?" and the rollicking "Down in Alabam'." A tantalizing bit of negro song of the early eighties, embodying a myth, is reported from Columbia, S.C. Hampton, it seems, hangs out a flag and loses a finger as Sherman rides by. The fragment runs thus: -

Hampton had a Confederate flag,
He hung it in de winder:
By and by old Sherman come
And shot off Hampton's finger.[1]

[1] Compare The State, Dec. 7, 1913.

The hanging-out of the flag in defiance to the invader is the familiar "Barbara Frietchie" motive; but the consequences are different, since the woman is spared at the commander's order; and Hampton the soldier, enemy of the composer of the stanza presumably, suffers a wound for his temerity. [Or is the account colorless?]

2. SONGS WITH DANCES OR GAMES

In ring-games, the races hold common stock, greatly impaired, however, by competition with a flood of imported new material in the schools. The negroes used to play and sing the following, many years ago.

1. Cold Frosty Morning.
2. Go in-dang-out (in and out) de Window.
3. Do, Mr. Watchman, don't catch me: in de Ladies' Garden.
4. Here we go round the Mulberry-Bush.
5. Boil dat Cabbage down.
6. Jump Jim Crow.*
7. Rang-Tang Bustle up.

* Compare "Dorsetshire Children's Games" (Folk-Lore Journal, vol. vii, p. 251). Negro minstrels perhaps carried this song to England.

Except for the last two, these games are well known to the whites. To extend the list of negro games would be useless. A reference to a study made by Zach McGhee* will show scores of games, some of them with songs, which one could infer are to be found among the negroes. His list will include nearly all, if not all, of the games of negro children.

*Compare "A Study in the Play-Life of Some South Carolina Children" (Pedagogical Seminary [9Igool, vol. vii, pp. 459, 478).

3. SHIFTING OF STANZAS

Stanzas of one song may serve in another with only the tune and the chorus to bind them together. These ballad fragments oftentimes make a highly interesting whole. As the negro must depend upon memory, and as, in the singing, oftentimes first one and then another will break out as leader with his favorite stanza, the exact wording is rarely fixed. The song is in a state of flux. The more widespread of these songs are taken up by the whites, and given wider currency through the medium of wags with good voices wherever there is a picnic journey or college informal gathering. Thus it is that to the tune of "Good-by, my Lover, Good-by," or other songs, any suitable stanzas may be sung; or these, in turn, may be shifted to the choral melody of some other song.

The whites have thus treated the songs of "Little David," "Pharaoh's Army," "You shall be Free." The same stanzas may serve in any of them. The negroes, it is true, keep these songs relatively fixed; but the whites-in Columbia, S.C., for example-may combine such a medley of stanzas as the following to a chorus; and perhaps the same tendency toward change would be more striking with the negro, were it not for the fact that the negro is singing, not a sober, but a fervent, religious hymn.

Upon de mountain I'm going to ride
Two white elephants, side by side.

CHORUS: Little David, pluck upon your harp, halleloo,
Halleloo, little David, pluck upon your harp, halleloo.

Some o' dese nights about twelve o'clock,
Dis old world gwinter reel and rock.
CHORUS:

De Lord made a wheel and he made it round,
He roll' it in de hollow till de world turn around.
CHORUS:

De Lord made de nigger, he made him in de night,
In such a hurry he forgot to paint him white.
CHORUS:

If you want to see de debbil run,
Just pull de trigger o' de gospel gun.
CHORUS:

Take care, sinner, how you walk on de cross,
Yo' right foot slip, and your soul done los'.
CHORUS:

Went to bed, but it wasn't no use,
My feet stuck out for a chicken-roos'.
CHORUS:

(And so on at will.)

The songs have suffered so greatly from this process of transference, that it is hard to assign correctly stanzas from a white's version. The tune of "Little David" is slow, almost wailing; but the tripping flippancy of the song as sung by the whites is offensive to the ears of religious-minded negroes who know the original melody.

The only instance that I have found of the intrusion of a contemporaneous event into a stanza before my eyes, was in the case of "Pharaoh's Army." While we were all singing stanzas like those cited above, the new one came in from the negroes. It seems that a schism had rent the largest church in town, the Sidney Park Church, so that a leader- one Reuben Bright, I think- had withdrawn with his band of followers; and then the large wooden structure had burned down one night amid tremendous excitement among the whole negro population who were present. The lines referred to run, -

Reuben Bright he had a scheme
To burn Sidney Park with the kerosene.

It had been rumored that night that the flames had spread so rapidly over the roof that kerosene must undoubtedly have been used. The appearance of Reuben Bright in the song suggests how other characters
are borne along to fame or infamy on the wings of a song.

4. PLANTATION DANCES
To Mrs. Harriette Kershaw Leiding of Charleston, I am indebted for this account of the plantation negro at play. It was taken down in the words of Maum Katie, a very old negro woman.

I tol' you about de ole days when I could dance, an' sing, an' pick cotton wid de best of dem, 'cause you know I done been raise' roun' de white folks ebber sence I been leetle mite,-wen I ain't but so leetle dat I can hide underneat' old Miss' rocking-chair. Den wen I gets bigger, I cum out an' hide underneat' her apern; den I get so big an' fat dat I gets to be a regular wheeligo gal: dat's our name for a big, bustin' gal.

Ole Miss she laff, an' say to Marster, "Let them have it, let them have it; they work all the better for it." O Lordee! dem were happy days: I always had my stomach full of vittles den. An' atter de fiel'-work, I teks my "fly-away" (dat's my hat), an' I teks de calico dress Miss done gib, an' I go to de nigger-yard; an', glory, how I done dance!

Pairing Off
Here's de way we start. All de cullud folks crowd into de leetle  room an' begin for sing:-

Hurrah, ladies, two on de floor,
Here we go to Baltimore.
Swing e lady roun' de town,
Sling 'em roun' de floor.

Then the gals begin to sing, -

A hack a back, ladies!
Wanter go to Aiken;
So, Mr. Jones, you can take me dere.

An' den dat gal go off wid e partner. Den another gal she holler out, -

A hack a back, ladiest
Wanter go to Augusta;
So Mr. Brown can take me dere.
Mr. Cooler.

An by an' by all of dem get paired off dataway. Den atter a while, somebody say, "Le's play Mr. Cooler." Den somebody else holler out, "I holler for Mr. Cooler! I call for Mr. Cooler!" Den some buck nigger who can cut up, he pint heself to be Mr. Cooler; an' he mok about, an' he mok about (look around), and atter a little he choose a lady. Den all wat lef' out begin to call on him fer help 'em play, an' dey sing tree times, -

Ole Mr. Cooler, wat is de matter
Stay away so long?
Den Mr. Cooler he say,--
At your call.

Lordee! he been polite: he ac' jes' like a king. An' atter dat, all ring up, an' go roun', an' begin to sing, wid Mr. Cooler in de middle, -

Mr. Cooler he lub sugar an' tea,
Mr. Cooler he lubs candy,
Mr. Cooler he can wheel an' turn,
And receive de one dats handy.

Den Mr. Cooler he shuffle, an' do monkey-tricks in de ring. He act like a mule, an' he paw, an' he snort, an' he back. Den all sing again, -

There's a mule in de middle, an' you can't get him out.
There's a mule in de middle, an' you can't get him out.

He wants some one to help him out, Miss Susie or Miss Julia. Den Miss Julia she says, -

Spread your carpet on de floor,
Meet your true love at de door,
You mus' say yes, and den we'll go
Ober de hills an' far away.

Den all we-uns begin fer hum, an' do like de bee, -

Um-hum, um-hum,
You black-eyed bee,
Where will de weddin'-supper be?
Way ober yander in de holler tree,
Um-hum, um-hum.

Den dat couple dey git out an' leab de gal in de ring. I do declare he mak' you laff fitten to bus' yourself, 'cause ebery nigger wat gets in, he got to be a animal ob some kind. De men mek' de fun, 'caze dey go like de mule, or dey hops roun' like de bullfrog, or dey bellows like de ox, an' dey do whatsoever de name of the animal dey takes. When de gal gets in de ring, dey is flowers, an' dey jes' caper' 'bout a little mite, an' prance, an' show he foot. Den here's de way we all sing wid de gal in de middle:-

My true love's gone, won't you help me to sing.
My darlin' is a rose in de middle, an' I can't get her out.
She wants some one to help her out, I think it's Mr. Benjy.

Rice Cake.
Den, Miss, atter we done play dis till we been tired, we sing a funny little song about rice-cake:-

Rice-cake, rice-cake,
Sweet me so,
Rice-cake, sweet me to my heart.
Den dey do some kissin'.

An' sometimes dey play in de ya'd, an' play "Roxanna, go, gal, go."

Roxanna, go, Gal, go.
All dat de buckra gib, you wear in de buckra fiel'
All dat your sweetheart gib you . . .

At this point, Maum Katie's memory failed, and she never came past this point in her version of these plantation dances. The incompleteness of the reminiscence is eloquent of what is happening now. The old woman is dead, and with her like will pass away much that could have been preserved. Let this conclusion of her account serve as mine; for, even as experienced workers in the field of folk-lore must have felt, certainly I feel, that I have held up but a flickering light in a dying world.