Frederick Law Olmsted, 1822-1903
A Journey in the Seaboard Slave States; With Remarks on Their Economy.
New York; London: Dix and Edwards; Sampson Low, Son & Co., 1856. p. 607-610
[The two African- American work songs from Louisiana were published in 1856. The second song appears to be a version of "Johnny Come Down To Hilo" at least that's the repeated refrain.
Below I've included and excerpt, Carolina Yell, from the same book. R. Matteson]
Excerpt from: A Journey in the Seaboard Slave States; p. 607-610
RED RIVER EMIGRANT CRAFT- Louisiana
It was twenty minutes after seven when the captain observed, scanning the levee in every direction, to see if there was another cart or carriage coming towards us, "No use waiting any longer, I reckon: throw off, Mr. Heady." (The Swamp Fox did not leave, I afterwards heard, till Saturday.)
We backed out, winded round head up, and as we began to breast the current, a dozen of the negro boat-hands, standing on the freight, piled up on the low forecastle, began to sing, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and shirts lashed to poles, towards the people who stood on the sterns of the steam-boats at the levee. After losing a few lines, I copied literally into my note-book:
[Song 1]
"Te see dem boat way dah ahead.
Chorus.—Oahoiohieu.
De San Charles is arter 'em, dey mus go behine.
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
So stir up dah, my livelies, stir her up; (pointing to the furnaces).
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Dey's burnin' not'n but fat and rosum.
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Oh, we is gwine up de Red River, oh!
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Oh, we mus part from you dah asho'.
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Give my lub to Dinah, oh!
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
For we is gwine up de Red River.
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Yes, we is gwine up de Red River.
Cho.—Oahoiohieu.
Oh we must part from you dah oh!
Cho.—Oahoiohieu."
[The wit introduced into these songs has, I suspect, been rather over-estimated. On another occasion I took down the following:
[Song 2a]
"John come down in de holler,
Oh, work and talk and holler,
Oh, John, come down in de holler,
Ime gwine away to-morrow.
"John come down in de holler,
Ime gwine away to marry,
Oh, John, &c.
Get my cloves in order,
Oh, John, &c.
I'se gwine away tomorrow,
Oh, John, &c.
Oh, work and talk and holler,
Oh, John, &c.
Hassa guv me dollar,
Oh, John, &c.
Don't cry yer eyes out, honey,
Oh, John, &c.
I'm gwine to get some money,
Oh, John, &c.
But I'll come back to-morrow,
Oh, John, &c.
So work and talk and holler,
Oh, John, &c.
Work all day and Sunday,
Oh, John, &c.
Massa get do money,
Oh, John, &c.
After the conclusion of this song, and after the negroes had left the bows, and were coming aft along the guards, we passed two or three colored nurses, walking with children on the river bank; as we did so the singers jumped on some cotton bales, bowed very low to them, took off their hats, and swung and waved them, and renewed their song:
[Song 2b]
God bless you all, dah! ladies!
Oh, John come down in de holler,
Farwell, de Lord be wid you, honey,
Oh, John, come down, &c.
Done cry yerself to def,
Oh, John. &c.
I'm gwine down to New Orleans,
Oh, John, &c.
I'll come back, dough, bime-by,
Oh, John, &c,
So far-you-well, my honey,
Oh, John, &c.
Far-you-well, all you dah, shore,
Oh, John, &c.
And save your cotton for de Dalmo!
Oh, John, &c]
As soon as the song was ended, I went into the cabin to remind the clerk to obtain a berth for me. I found two brilliant supper tables reaching the whole length of the long cabin, and a file of men standing on each side of both of them, ready to take seats as soon as the signal was given.
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NEGRO JODLING: [YODELING]
THE CAROLINA YELL
Reprinted from Frederick Law Olmstead, A Journey into the Seaboard Slave States (New York, 1856), pp. 114-115. [According to F. G. Rathbun in The Black Perspective in Music, Vol. 4, No. 2, Bicentennial Number (Jul., 1976), pp. 138-140 this appears in Frederick Law Olmstead on p. 114-115,- I haven't found it on those pages. R. Matteson]
Between nine and ten at night, we reached the end of the completed railroad, coming up in search for that we had left the previous night. There was another camp and fire of the workmen, and in a little white frame-house we found a company of engineers. There were two trains and locomotives on the track, and a gang of negroes was loading cotton into one of them.
I strolled off until I reached an opening in the woods, in which was a cotton-field and some negro-cabins, and beyond it large girdled trees, among which were two negroes with dogs barking, yelping, hacking, shouting, and whistling, after 'coons and 'possums. Returning to the rail-road, I found a comfortable, warm passenger-car, and, wrapped in my blanket, went to sleep. At midnight I was awakened by loud laughter, and, looking out, saw that the loading gang of negroes had made a fire, and were enjoying a right merry repast. Suddenly, one raised such a sound as I never heard before, a long, loud, musical shout,
rising, and falling, and breaking into falsetto, his voice ringing through the woods in the clear, frosty night air, like a bugle call. As he finished, the melody was caught up by another, and then, another, and then by several in chorus. When there was silence again, one of them cried out, as if bursting with amusement:
"Did yer see de dog?-when I began eeohing, he turn roun' an' look me straight into der face; ha! ha! ha!" and the whole party broke into the loudest peals of laughter, as if it was the very best joke they had ever heard.
After a few minutes I could hear one urging the rest to come to work again, and soon he stepped towards the cotton bales, saying, "Come, brederen, come; let's go at it; come now, eoho! roll away! eeoho-eeohoweeioho-i!"-and the rest taking it up as before, in a few moments they all had their shoulders to a bale of cotton and were rolling it up the embankment.