Saylan- cante-fable song (JA) 1907 Walter Jekyll
[From Walter Jekyll, Jamaican Song and Story, London, 1907, pp. 58. Reprinted by Reed Smith, 1928. Smith's introduction and footnotes.
R. Matteson 2015]
A strange mixture of song and story, akin to the cante-fable form, has been recorded from the Negro lore of Jamaica. One version motivates the situation through the plotting of an enraged stepmother:[15]
There was a man have two daughter. One of the daughter belongs to the wife an' one belongs to the man. An' the wife no love for the man daughter, so they drive her away.
An' she get a sitivation at ten shillings a week, an' the work is to look after two horses an' to cut dry grass for them.
An' every night she put two bundles of dry grass in the 'table.
An' the mother was very grudgeful of the sitivation that she got.
An' one night she carry her own daughter to the pastur' an' they cut two bundles of green grass. An' they go secretly to the horse manger an' take out the dry grass an' put the green grass in its place.
So the horse eat it, an' in the morning they dead.
An' the master of that horse is a sailor.
The sailor took the gal who caring the horse to hang her.
An' when he get to the 'pot a place to hang her he take this song:—
[music]
"Mourn, Saylan, mourn oh!
Mourn, Saylan, mourn;
I come to town to see you hang, hang, you must be hang.
"An' the gal cry to her sister an' brother an' lover, a', they give her answer:
[music]
"Sister, you bring me some silver?" "No, my child, I bring you none."
[music]
"Brother, you bring me some gold?" "No, my child, I bring you none."
"Lover, you bring me some silver?" "Yes, my dear, I bring you some."
"Lover, you bring me some gold?" "Yes, my dear, I bring you some.
"I come to town to see you save, save you mus' be saved."
An' the lover bring a buggy an' carry her off an' save her life at last.
An' the mumma say: "You never better, tuffa."[16]
Jack Mantora me no choose any.
Footnotes:
15 Its local name is "Saylan." see Walter Jekyll, Jamaican Song and Story, David Nutt, London, 1907, pp. 58 ff. Another version is given by Martha W. Beckwith in "The English Ballad in Jamaica." PMLA vol. XXXIX no. 2, pp. 475, 476.
16 You never better: you will never be good for anything.
tuffa, with Italian "u" imitates spitting, a sign of contempt.