CHAPTER XI
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
A Classification of Slave Songs — ^The Use of Music
IN Satire — African Minstrels — The Carnival in
Martinique — West Indian Pillards — Old
BoscoYo's Song in New Orleans — Con-
clusion — An American School of
Composition
In an appendix to his "Bahama Songs and Stories"
Professor Edwards cites John Mason Brown as giving the
following classification of the songs of the slave in an
article printed in "Lippincott's Magazine" for Decem-
ber, 1868:
' 1. Religious songs, e. g., "The Old Ship oi Zion," where the refrain of
"Glory, halleloo" in the chorus keeps the congregation well together in the
singing and allows time for the leader to recall the next verse.
2. River songs, composed of single lines separated by a barbarous and
unmeaning chorus and sung by the deck hands and roustabouts mainly for
the howl.
3. Plantation songs, accompanying the mowers at harvest, in which the
strong emphasis of rhythm was more important than the words.
4. Songs of longing; dreamy, sad and plaintive airs describing the most
sorrowful pictures of slave life, sung in the dusk when returning home from
the day's work.
5. Songs of mirth, whose origin and meaning, in most cases forgotten,
were preserved for the jingle of rhyme and tune and sung with merry laughter
and with dancing in the evening by the cabin fireside.
6. Descriptive songs, sung in chanting style, with marked emphasis and
the prolongation of the concluding syllable of each line. One of these songs,
founded upon the incidents of a famous horse race, became almost an epidemic
among the negroes of the slave-holding States.
In this enumeration there is a significant omission. On
the plantations where Latin influences were dominant, in
New Orleans and the urban communities of the Antilles,
the satirical song was greatly in vogue. It might be said
that the use of song for purposes of satire cannot be said
to be peculiar to any one race or people or time; in fact,
Professor Henry T. Fowler, of Brown University, in his
"History of the Literature of Ancient Israel,"^ intimates
' New York: The Macmillan Company, 1912, page IS.
I 140]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
that a parallel may exist between the "taunt songs" of
primitive peoples, the Israelitish triumph songs, like that
recorded in Numbers, xxi, 27-30, the Fescennine verses
of the early Romans, and the satirical songs of the negroes
of the West Indies. Nevertheless, there is scarcely a
doubt in my mind but that the penchant for musical
lampooning which is marked among the black Creoles of
the Antilles is more a survival of a primitive practice
brought by their ancestors from Africa than a custom
borrowed from their masters. What was borrowed was
the occasion which gave the practice license.
This was the carnival, which fact explains the circum-
stance that the Creole songs of satire are much more
numerous in the French West Indies than in Louisiana.
The songs are not only more numerous, but their perform-
ance is more public and more malicious in intent. The
little song "Musieu Bainjo" (see page 142), melody and
words of which came from a Louisiana plantation, though
not wholly devoid of satrical sting, is chiefly a bit of
pleasantry not calculated deeply to wound the sensibilities
of its subject; very different are such songs as "Loema
.tombe" (see page 147) and "Marie-Clemence" (see page
148), which Mr. Hearn sent me from Martinique. The
verse-form, swinging melodic lilt and incisive rhythm of
"Michie Preval" (see page 152) made it the most effective
vehicle for satire which Creole folksong has ever known, and
Mr. Cable says that for generations the man of municipal
politics was fortunate who escaped entirely a lampooning
set to its air; but it is doubtful if even Mr. Preval, cordially
hated as he was, had to endure such cruel and spectacular
public castigation as the creators of the pillard still inflict
on the victims of their hatred. These songs will come up
for detailed consideration presently, but first it may be well
to pursue the plan which I have followed in respect of the
other elements of Afro-American folksong and point out
the obvious African origin of this satirical element.
In many, perhaps in the majority of African tribes,
there are professional minstrels whose social status now
is curiously like that of the mountebanks, actors and secular
[ 141]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
Musiett Bainjo
Voy-ez ce mu-Iet . la, Mu-sieu Bain-jo, conuneil est in - so
Look at that darkey there, Mister Ban-jo, Does-n't he put on
lentl Cha-peaa sur co • te, Mu-sienSain-jo, Laoanne ^ la
dital Hat cock'don one side, Ml$ter J3an-jo, MTalking'- stick in
main, Mu-sieu Bain- jo,
hand, Mister Ban - jo^
Botte qpii fait«crin, crin»,' Mu-sieu Bain -jo;
Boots that go "crank, crankJ^Mlster Ban- jo;
t t , t -
Toy-ez ce mn.Iet - ti, I&u-sieufiain-jo,
Lookat thatdarkey tiiere, Mister Ban- jo,
Conuneil
Does-n?t
est.
he put
iO
on
Words and mefody of this song were noted on a plantation in St. Charles Parish, Louisiana,
and first printed in "Slave Songs of the TFnited States," the editor remarking that it is an
"attempt of some enterprising negro to write a French song." The particularly propulsive
effect of the African "snap" at the beginning is noteworthy.. The translation, printed by Ifr.
Cable in the "Century Hagazlne','. is used with his permission and that of the Century Co. In
his comment on the song Mr. Cable remarks: "We have to lose, the saucy double meaning be-
tween mutet (aale) and raWs^r; (mulatto)." Arrangement by the author.
[ 142 ]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
musicians in Europe a few centuries ago. That these black
minstrels are not "beggars with one consent" is due to the
fact that their powers of improvization are so great and
their willingness to employ them to mercenary ends so well
known that that they are feared as well as hated, and
conciliated in the manner universal by those who can
afford to do it. These men, who are called Lashash by
the Soudanese, Nzangah (a term also applied to prosti-
tutes) by the Niam-Niam, griots, or guiriots, in Sene-
gambia and Guinea, and guehues in West Africa, are syco-
phants attached to the bodies of kings and chiefs, for whom
they exercise bardic functions. ./They are extremely sharp
of tongue and have no hesitation in putting their skill to
the basest of uses. Hence it comes that persons near
enough to the sources of power and preferment approach
them in the same manner in which supplicants for royal
favor have approached the mistresses of kings and poten-
tates in civilized countries time out of mind. Moreover,
as their shafts are as much dreaded as their encomiums are
desired, they collect as much tribute for what they withhold
as for what they utter, and many of them grow rich.
Thomas Ashley, in a book of travels published in 1745,'
says that they are "reckoned rich, and their wives have
more crystal blue stones and beads about them than the
king's wives." But, like the mediaeval European actors,
jugglers and musicians, they are not recognized as repu-
table; they are even denied the rite of burial, and in some
places their dead bodies are left to rot in hollow trees.
The weapon which these griots use against those whom
they wish to injure is satire, and this species of poetical
composition is a feature of the improvizations of the blacks
in the Antilles to-day and long has been. Bryan Edwards
says in his history of the English colonies in the West Indies :
Their songs are commonly impromptu, and there are among them indivi-
duals who resemble the improvisatori, or extempore bards of Italy; but 1
cannot say much for their poetry. Their tunes in general are. characteristic
of their national manners; those of the Eboes being soft and languishing; of the
Koromantyus, heroick and martial. At the same time there is observable in
most of them a predominant melancholy, which, to a man of feeling, is some-
times very affecting.
» Cited by Engel.
[ 143 ]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
At their merry meetings and midnight festivals, they are not without
ballads of another kind, adapted to such occasions, and here they give full
scope to a talent for ridicule which is exercised not only against each other
but also, not infrequently, at the expense of their owner or employer; but most
part of their songs at these places are fraught with obscene ribaldry and ac-
companied with dances in the highest degree licentious and wanton.
That was in the eighteenth century, when vast numbers
of the slaves were African by birth. At the end of the
nineteenth century Hearn found that satire was still a
prominent element in the songs of the black people of
Martinique. He is speaking of the blanchisseuses, hard
at work early in the morning in the rushing river at St.
Pierre.
The air grows warmer; the sky blue takes fire; the great light makes joy
for the washers; they shout to each other from distance to distance, jest,
laugh, sing. Gusty of speech these women are; long habit of calling to one
another through the roar of the torrent has given their voices a singular
sonority and force; it is well worth while to hear them sing. One starts the
song, the next one joins her; then another and another, till all the channel rings
with the melody from the bridge of the Jardin des Plantes to the Pont-bois:
"C'est, main qui te, ka lave.
Passe, raccommode;
Y te nef he disoue,
Ou mette main derho,
Yche main assous bouas main;
Laplie te ka tomhe —
Lefan main assous tete main;
Doudoux, ou m'abandonne;
Moin fa ni pesonne pou soigne main."
("It was I who washed and ironed and mended; at 9 o'clock at night thou
didst put me out of doors, with my child in my arms; the rain was falling,
with my poor straw mattress upon my head! Doudoux! thou dost abandon
me! . . . I have none to care for me."). . . . A melancholy chant —
originally a carnival improvisation made to bring public shame upon the
perpetrator of a cruel act; but it contains the story of many of these lives —
the story of industrious, affectionate women temporarily united to brutal
and worthless men in a country where legal marriages are rare. Half of the
Creole songs which I was able to collect during a residence of nearly two years
in the island touch upon the same sad theme.
Of the carnival, at which these satirical songs spring
up like poisonous fungi, Hearn draws a vivid picture, pro-
jecting it with terrible dramatic effect against an account
of a plague of smallpox. There is a last masquerade before
Lent, on Ash Wednesday — the carnival lasts a day longer
in Martinique than anywhere else. Since January there
has been dancing every day in the streets of St. Pierre;
such dancing as might be indulged in, presumably, by
decorous persons; but in the country districts • African
[ 144 ]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
dances have been danced — such dances as the city never
sees. Nevertheless, a cloud rests upon the gayety because
La Verette, a terrible and unfamiliar visitor to the island,
has made her advent. The pestilence, brought from Colon
on the steamer in the preceding September, has now begun
to sweep St. Pierre, as it had already swept Fort de France,
as by a wind of death. Hundreds are dying, but there must
be the usual procession of maskers, mummers and merry-
makers. Three o'clock. There is a sound of drums. The
people tumble into the streets and crowd into the public
square:
Simultaneously from north and south, from the Mouillage and the Fort,
two immense bands enter the Grande Rue — the great dancing societies
these — the Sans-Souci and the Intrepides. They are rivals; they are the
composers and singers of those carnival songs — cruel satires most often, of
which the local meaning is unintelligible to those unacquainted with the inci-
dent inspiring the improvisation, of which the words are too often coarse or
obscene — whose burden will be caught up and re-echoed through all the burghs
of the island. Vile as may be the motive, the satire, the malice, these chants
are preserved for generations by the singular beauty of the airs, and the victim
of a carnival song need never hope that his failing or his wrong will be for-
gotten; it will be sung long after he is in his grave.
All at once a hush comes over the mob; the drums stop
and the maskers scatter. A priest in his vestments passes
by, carrying the viaticum to some victim of the dreadful
scourge. "C'est Bon-Die ka passe" — "It is the Good-God
who goes by." Then the merriment goes on. Night
falls. The maskers crowd into the ballrooms, and through
the black streets the Devil makes his last carnival round:
By the gleam of the old-fashioned oil lamps hung across the thoroughfares
I can make out a few details of his costume. He is clad in red, wears a hideous
blood-colored mask and a cap on which the four sides are formed by four
looking-glasses, the whole headdress being surmounted by a red lantern. He
has a white wig made of horsehair to make him look weird and old — since the
Devil is older than the world. Down the street he comes, leaping nearly his
own height, chanting words without human significance and followed by some
three hundred boys, who form the chorus to his chant, all clapping hands to-
gether and giving tongue with a simultaneity that testifies how strongly the
sense of rhythm enters into the natural musical feeling of the African — a
feeling powerful enough to impose itself upon all Spanish-America and there
create the unmistakable characteristics of all that is called "creole music."
"Bimbolo!"
"Zimabolo!"
"Bimbolo!"
"Zimabolo!"
"Et Zimbolo!"
"Et bolo-po!"
[ 14S]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
sing the Devil and his chorus. His chant is cavernous, abysmal — booms from
his chest like the sound beaten in the bottom of a well. . . "TV manmaille-
la, baill moin lavoix!" ("Give me voice, little folk, give me voice.") And all
chant after him in a chanting like the rushing of many waters and with triple
clapping of hands: "Ti manmaille-la baill moin lavoix!". . . Then he
halts before a dwelling in the Rue Peysette and thunders:
"Eh! Marie-sans-dent! Mi! diabe-la derho!"
That is evidently a piece of spite work; there is somebody living there
against whom he has a grudge. . .
"Hey! Marie-without-teeth! Look! The Devil is outside!"
And the chorus catch the clew.
Devil: "Eh! Marie-sans-dent!"
Chorus: "Marie-sans-dent! Mi! diabe-la derho!"
Devil: "Eh! Marie-sans-dent!"
Chorus: "Marie-sans-dent! Mi! diabe-la derho!"
Devil "Eh! Marie-sans-dent!" etc.
The Devil at last descends to the main street, always singingthe same song.
I follow the chorus to the Savanna, where the route makes for the new bridge
over the Roxelane, to mount the high streets of the old quarter of the Fort,
and the chant changes as they cross over:
Devil: "Oti oue diabe-la passe larivie?" ("Where did you see the Devil
going over the river?") And all the boys repeat the words, falling into another
rhythm with perfect regularity and ease: "Oti oue diabe-la passe larivie?"
February 22d.
Old physicians indeed predicted it, but who believed them?
February 23d.
A cofHn passes, balanced on the heads of black men. It holds the body of
Pascaline Z., covered with quicklime.
It is thus that the satirical songs are made in Martinique,
thus that they are disseminated. Latin civilization is less
cruel to primitive social institutions than Anglo-Saxon —
less repressive and many times more receptive. Some-
times it takes away little and gives much, as it has done
with African music transplanted to its new environment.
It has lent the charm of graceful melody to help make the
sting of Creole satire the sharper; but through the white ve-
neer the black savagery sometimes comes crashing to pro-
claim its mastery in servitude. So in the case of the song
"Loema tombe" ; so also in "Marie-Clemence." (See p. 148.)
The latter is a carnival song which, if Hearn was correctly
informed, was only four years old when he sent it to
me. It is a fine illustration of that sententious dramaiticism
which is characteristic of folk-balladry the world over —
that quick, direct, unprepared appeal to the imaginative
[ 146]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
Allegro moderato
Loema tombe
Ce ti man-maille - lat Zaatt te bp • la - ri -
iu \ i i \ im
vii.
i
iJi I J J l ii ^
R^rain continued ad lib* growing more and more rapid
Ou'a di main conm' ^a: Lo - e ~ ma torn - bel OuVi di main oomn'
A Vittard (satirical song) from Martinique, collected for the author in 1887 by Lafcadio
Heafn and published by him in the appendix to his book "Two Years in the Frendi West Indies!'
(Harper & Bros., 1890). Arrangement by Frank van der Slacken. Reprinted by permission of
Harper & Bros.- In sending the song to the author Mr. Heam wrote : Lo^ma f ombe' is a pil -
lard, a satirical chorus chanted with clapping of hands. Loema was a girl who lived near the
Pont-Bas and a^ected virtue. It was learned that she received not one but many lovers. Then
the women came and sang: (Solo) You little children there
Who live by the riverside,
You tell me truly this:
Did you see Lo^ma fall?
(ChS-JTell me truly this: Loema fall (ad Hi J"
[ 147]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
Marie-Clemence
AndaAte
^^:
m
Ua-rie-Clemence mau-di, La-nuMi frttt li man-di,
^
^
W
1^
^^
rrrrlrr
^
Col- Uer-chonz li mau - di, Toutt baergaJie ; li mau - dit
Ma- rie-Cle-mencS man- di, La-mo-ri Mtt li mau-di,
[ 148]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
CoU lier-shooz li maa-.di, Toatt baggajie U mau-dif Ai'e!
Laguemoinglague moin, lague moini Moin ke iie-ye oo moin,
Words .and melody from Laf cadio Hearn^ "Two Years in tbe French West Indies," for which
work they were arranged by IMs author. They were written down by a bandmaster in Mar.
tinique. In transmitting them to Mr. Erehblel Mr. Hearn wrote:"'Harie-Clemence is a carni-
val satire composed not more than four years ago. The song was sung to torment Mari&£le.
mence, who was a vender of cheap cooked food." The exclamation 'A'lel' is an example of the
yell which occurs frequently in African music. The words mean: "Marie-Clemence is cursed;
cursed, too, is her fried salt codfish U/mori /ritt), hei gold bead necklace (collier-choux),
i>ll her load!' Now Marie speaks: "Alel Let me be, or I shall drown myself behind yon pile of
rocksl - The Aong is reprinted by permission of Harper & Bros.
[ 149]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
comprehension of a people whose life Is fully expressed
in the song of its own creation. Marie-Clemence was a
Machanne lapacotte, a vendor of cooked food; chiefly, it
would seem from the text, of salt codfish {lamori fritt).
Why she should have been made the victim of popular
hatred I do not know — perhaps never shall know, now
that the ashes of La Pelee have made a winding-sheet for
St. Pierre; but one day the devil pointed his finger at the
poor woman and pronounced her codfish accursed, also
her gold-bead necklace (collier-choux) and everything that
she carried in the wooden bowl above her gay madrasse.
An agony of pain and rage bursts out in the African ex-
clamation "Aiel" only to give way to her pitiful plaint:
Lague main, lague main, lague main!
Main ke neye co main,
Enbas gouSs pile ouoche-la!
("Let me be, let me be, let me be! I shall drown myself behind yon pile
of rocks!")
Sometimes the people of the Antilles do not wait for the
coming of the carnival and its devil to punish those who
have fallen under their displeasure. The custom of the
ffillard prevails in Martinique and can be practised at any
time. Hearn writes: "Some person whom it is deemed
justifiable or safe to annoy may suddenly find himself
followed in the street by a singing chorus of several hundred,
all clapping their hands and dancing or running in perfect
time, so that all the bare feet strike the ground together.
Or, the pillard chorus may even take up its position before
the residence of the party disliked and then proceed with
its performances." The song "Loema tombe" (see page
147) provides an illustration. "Loema," wrote Mr. Hearn,
in sending me the words and melody of the song, "was
a girl who lived near the Pont-Bas and affected virtue.
It was learned that she received not one but many lovers.
Then the women came and sang:
Solo: You little children there
Who live by the riverside.
Tell me truly this:
Did you see Loema fall?
Chorus: Tell me truly this: Loema fall, etc.
[ ISO]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
Local tradition in New Orleans may have preserved the
date of the incident which gave rise to what in one of my
notes I find called "Old Boscoyo's Song" (seepage 152), but
it has not got into my records. Mr. Cable calls the victim
of the satire "a certain Judge Preval," and old residents
of New Orleans have told me that he was a magistrate.
If so, it would seem that he not only gave a ball which
turned out to be a very disorderly affair, but also violated
a law by giving it without a license. Many of the dancers
found their way into the calaboose, and he had to pay a
fine for his transgression and live in popular contumely
ever afterward. From various sources I have pieced to-
gether part of the song in the original, and in the translation
have included several stanzas for which at present I have
only the English version in an old letter written by Hearn:
Michie Preval li donnin gran bal,
Li fe neg' paye pou sauter in pe.
Dans I'ecui vie la yave gran gala,
Mo ere soual la ye te bien etonne.
Michie Preval li te Capitaine bal,
Et so coche, Louis te maitr' ceremonie.
Y'ave de negresse belles passe maitresse,
Qui vole belbel dans I'ormoire momselle.
"Comment, Sazou, te vole mo cuilotte?"
"Non, no maitr', mo di vous mo zes prend bottes."
Ala maitr' geole li trouve si drole,
Li dit: "Moin aussi mo fe bal ici."
Ye prend maitr' Preval ye mette li prison,
Pasque li donnin bal pou vole nous I'arzan.
Monsieur Preval gave a big ball; he made the darkies pay for their little hop.
The grand gala took place in the stable; I fancy the horses were greatly
amazed. .
M. Preval was Captain of the ball; his coachman, Louis, was Master of
Ceremonies.
(He gave a supper to regale the darkies; his old music was enough to give
one the colic!)
(Then the old Jackass came in to dance; danced precisely as he reared, on
his hind legs.) . i. u j i
There were negresses there prettier than their mistresses; they had stolen
all manner of fine things from the wardrobes of their young mistresses.
(Black and white both danced the bamboula; never again will you see
such a fine time.) . , r i i i i.
(Nancy Latiche (?) to fill out her stockings put in the false calves of her
"'^"How, now, Sazou, you stole my trousers?" "No, my master, I took only
your boots." * , ,,\
(And a little Miss cried out: "See here, you negress, you stole my dress. )
[ 151 ]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
Michie Preval
Allegro moderato
f#
w —
— !■
=fF=
F^
-ih— f^ \
=?r=
— f —
^
doom,
=i^ —
boui-doum,
Dan .
se,
^ J J —
Ga-Iin- da,
bou-
dottm,
J' J ■ II
bou-douoL
^ 1 n
,„ . .-. V .-
k —
-* — 1
v 1; —
^ 1 1
^^' " J r J^
^^=J^=#=^
r ^' ;^
A.satifleol song. Words (one stanza only) from Mr.Macnun's colleetion, by permission of
the Century Co.; melody written dowa by tbe author at one of BIr. Cable's readings^ arraoge-
ment by Ur. JobsYanBroekkOTen.
[ 152]
SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
It all seemed very droll to the keeper of the jail; he said, "I'll get up a dance
(of another sort) for you here."
(At Mr. Preval'sjin Hospital street, the darkies had to pay for their little
hop.)
He took M. Preval and put him in the lock-up, because he gave a ball to
steal our money.
(Poor M. Preval! I guess he feels pretty sick; he'll give no more balls in
Hospital street.)
(He had to pay jilOO and had a pretty time finding the money.)
(He said: "Here's an end of that; no more balls without a permit.")
In conclusion, a word on the value of these Afro-Ameri-
can folksongs as artistic material and their possible con-
' tribution to a national American school of musics In a
large sense the value of a musical theme is wholly indepen-
dent of its origin. But for a century past national schools
have been founded on folksongs, and it is more than likely,
in spite of the present tendency toward "impressionism"
and other aesthetic aberrations, that composers will con-
tinue to seek inspiration at its source.' The songs which
I have attempted to study are not only American because
they are products of a people who have long been an
integral part of the population of America, but also be-
cause they speak an idiom which, no matter what its
origin, Americans have instinctively liked from the begin-
ning and have never liked more than now. - On this point
Dr. Dvorak, one of the world's greatest nationalists, is
entitled to speak with authority. In an essay on "Music
in America," which was printed in "The Century Maga-
zine" for February, 1895, he said:
"A while ago I suggested that inspiration for truly national music might
be derived from the negro melodies or Indian chants.fl was led to take this
view partly by the fact that the so-called plantation songs are indeed the most
striking and appealing melodies that have been found on this side of the water,
but largely by observation that this seems to be recognized, though often
unconsciously, by most Americans. All races have their distinctive national
songs, which they at once recognize as their own even if they have never
heard them before. . . It is a proper question to ask, What songs, then,
belong to the American and appeal more strikingly to him than any others?
What melody would stop him on the street if he were in a strange land, and
make the home feeling well up within him, no matter how hardened he might
be, or how wretchedly the tune were played? Their number, to be sure, seems
to be limited. The most potent, as well as the most beautiful among them, ac-
cording to my estimation, are certain of the so-called plantation melodies/
and slave songs, all of which are distinguished by unusual and subtle har-
monies, the thing which I have found in no other songs but those of Scotland
and Ireland."
[ 153 ]
AFRO-AMERICAN FOLKSONGS
Dr. Dvorak's contention that material for music in the
highest artistic forms might be found in the songs of the
American negroes, which was derided by quite a number
of American musicians, was long ago present in the appre-
ciative and discriminating mind of Mrs. Kemble, who, in her
life on a Georgian plantation, wished that some great
composer might hear the "semi-savage" performances of
the slaves, and said: "With a very little skilful adaptation
and instrumentation I think one or two barbaric chants
and choruses might be evoked from them that would make
the fortunes of an opera." The opera is not yet forth-
coming, but Dr. Dvorak's "From the New World," which
drew its inspiration from Afro-American songs, is the most
popular of his symphonies, and his American quartet has
figured on the programmes of the Kneisel Quartet oftener
than any other work in its repertory.
In the sense which seems to be playing hide and seek
in the minds of the critics and musicians who object to
the American label, there is no American music and can
be none: Every element of our population must have its
own characteristic musical expression, and no one element
can set up to be more American than another. But sup-
pose the time come when the work of amalgamation shall
be complete and the fully evolved American people have
developed a fondness for certain peculiarities of melody
and rhythm, which fondness in turn shall disclose itself in
a decided predilection for compositions in which those pe-
culiarities have been utilized; will that music be American?
Will it be racy of the soil.? Will such compositions be
better entitled to be called American than the "music of
Dr. Dvorak, which employs the same elements, but con-
fesses that it borrows them from the songs of the Southern
negroes? The songs are folksongs in the truest sense;
that is, they are the songs of a folk, created by a folk,
giving voice to the emotional life of a folk; for which life
America is responsible. They are beautiful songs, and
Dr. Dvorak has shown that they can furnish the inspira-
tion for symphonic material to the composer who knows
how to employ it. To use this material most effectively
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SATIRICAL SONGS OF THE CREOLES
it is necessary to catch something of the spirit of the peo-
ple to whom it is, or at least it seems, idiomatic. A na-
tive-born American ought to be able to do this quicker
and better than a foreigner, but he will not be able to do
it at all unless he have the gift of transmuting whatever
he sees or feels into music; if he have it not, he will not
write music at all; he might as well be a Hottentot as an
American.
Though it has been charged against me, by intimation
at least, it has never occurred to me in the articles which I
have written on the subject to claim that with his sympho-
ny Dr. Dvorak founded a national school of composition.
The only thing that I have urged in the matter is, that he
has shown that there are the same possibilities latent in
the folksongs which have grown up in America as in the
folksongs of other peoples. These folksongs are accom-
plished facts. They will not be added to, for the reason that
their creators have outgrown the conditions which alone
made them possible. It is inconceivable that America shall
add to her store of folksongs. Whatever characteristics of
scales or rhythm the possible future American school of com-
position is to have must, therefore, be derived from the
songs which are now existent. Only a small fraction of
these songs have been written down, and to those which
have been preserved the scientific method has not yet fully
been applied. My effort, as I have confessed, is tentative.
It ought to be looked upon as a privilege, if not a duty, to
save them, and the best equipped man in the world to do
this, and afterward to utilize the material in the manner
suggested by Dr. Dvorak; ought to be the American com-
poser. Musicians have never been so conscious as now
of the value of folksong elements. Music is seeking new
vehicles of expression, and is seeking them where they are
most sure to be found — in the field of the folksong. We
have such a field; it is rich, and should be cultivated.
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