Part II

Lyrics

Slave Songs

IN HISTORICAL SEQUENCE

1. 1784: The Dirge of St. Malo

2. 1795: Rebeldia na Bandabou

3. 1800: Uncle Gabriel, the Negro General

4. 1813: Hymn of Freedom

5. 1820: The Negro’s Complaint

6. 1820: Recognition March of the Independance of Hayti

7. 1820s: The African Hymn

8. 1831: Nat Turner

9. 18??: We’ll Soon Be Free/My Father, How Long?

10. 18??: March On

11. 18??: Children, We All Shall Be Free

12. 1863: The Enlisted Soldiers, or The Negro Battle Hymn

13. 1864: Old Massa, He Come Dancin’ Out

14. 1865: The Year of Jubalo, Year of Jubilo, and Kingdom Coming

15. 1870s: Agonizing, Cruel Slavery Days

Note: Songs 9, 10, and 11 could be as recent as the 1860s.

THE DIRGE OF ST. MALO

Source: The Social Implications of Early Negro Music in the United States (1969), edited by Bernard Katz, in chapter 6, “Dance in the Place Congo and Creole Slave Songs” by George Washington Cable, originally published in The Century Magazine (XXXI, February 1886, pp. 517–32, and April 1886, pp. 807–23).

Ourrà St. Malo

Aie! zein zens vini fé ouarrà,

Pou Pov St. Malo dans l’embas!

Yé, çassé li avec yé chien,

Yé tiré li ein coup d’fizi.

….

Yé halé li la cypriére,

So bras yé ‘tassé par derrier.

Yé tassé so la main divant,

Yé marré li apé queue choual.

Yé trainein li zouqu’à tout yé blancs.

Yé mandé li qui so compéres.

Pov St. Malo resté pendi!

Zize là li lir’ so la sentence,

Et pis li fé dressé potence.

Yé halé choual—çarette parti—

Pov St. Malo resté pendi!

Eine hér soleil deza leveé

Yé laissé so corps balancé

Pou carenco gagnein manzé.

Alas! young men, come make lament

For poor St. Malo in distress!

They chased, they hunted him with dogs,

They fired at him with a gun,

….

They hauled him from the cypress swamp

His arms they tied behind his back,

They tied his hands in front of him;

They tied him to a horse’s tail,

They dragged him up into the town.

Before the grand Cabildo men

They charged that he had made a plot

To cut the throats of all the whites

They asked him who his comrades were;

Poor St. Malo said not a word!

The judge his sentence read to him,

And then they raised the gallows-tree.

They drew the horse—the cart moved off—

And left St. Malo hanging there.

The sun was up an hour high

When on the Levee he was hung;

They left his body swinging there,

For carrion crows to feed upon.

REBELDIA NA BANDABOU

In English translation from Papiamento, “Rebellion at Bandabou.”

Source: Nanette de Jong, Tambu, pp. 43–44.

Song composed by slaves in Curaçao to celebrate a slave rebellion that occurred in 1795. Song performed to this day by Grupo Trinchera under the direction of Rene Rosalia.

See also: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91be4jJBU2U.

(Deklarashon introduktorio)

August 17th when the bell rang

(Habri-Pregon)

There was much tension at Knip (plantation)

The slaves have decided today,

Things will end.

Slaves have decided today:

Liberty will start.

When the bell sounded

There was much tension at Knip.

The slaves have reunited,

And together have decided,

Today there will be rebellion at

Bandabou.

(Serà-Coro with Pregon)

Rebellion at Bandabou.

At the head there is a captain,

Rebellion at Bandabou.

Captain Tula is in command.

Rebellion at Bandabou.

At his side is Pedro Wacao.

Rebellion at Bandabou.

Luis Mercer is also fighting.

Rebellion at Bandabou.

Just at the side there is Sablika.

Rebellion at Bandabou.

Men in rebellion,

Rebellion at Bandabou.

Women also in fight.

(Habri-Pregon)

Tambu player come with me

To Porto Marie!

Come with me to

Niger hill!

Barricade at Niger hill!

Pastor Schink wants to break up

the fight

With the Bible or bayonet.

Liberty for everybody!

Break the bell to stop it from

sounding.

Oh mama, rebellion at

Bandabou!

UNCLE GABRIEL, THE NEGRO GENERAL

Sources: Lawrence Gellert, published in Mainstream, Vol. 16, No. 2 (February), 1963, p. 19; and Ethiopian Glee Book, Christy Minstrels, 1849, p. 120.

1. Oh my boys I’m bound to tell you,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Listen a while and I will tell you,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

I will tell you little ’bout Uncle Gabriel, Oh! boys I’ve just began

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia

2. Oh don’t you know Old Uncle Gabriel,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Oh! he were that old slave General,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

He war de Chief of de Insurgents,

Way down in Southampton

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia

3. ’Twas a little boy betrayed him,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

A little boy they call Daniel

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Betrayed him at de Norfolk landing,

Oh! boys I’m gettin’ done

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia

4. Says he, “Good day Uncle Gabriel.”

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

“I am not your Uncle Gabriel,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

My name it is Jim McCullen.

Some dey calls me Archey Mullin.”

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia.

5. The whites dey fought and caught him,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

And to Richmond Court House brought him,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Twelve men sot upon that jury,

Oh! boys I’m most done,

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia.

6. They promise his life they give him

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

If he name white folks with him

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

But he ain’t even listen, Oh

boys I reckon he ’bout done

CHORUS: Hard times in old Virginia.

7. Dey took him down to de Gallows,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Dey drive him down, wid four grey horses,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

Brice’s Ben, he drove de waggon,

Oh! boys, I’m most done.

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia.

8. And dare dey hung him and dey swung him,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

And dey swung him and dey hung him,

CHORUS: Oh! Oh!

That was the end of General Gabriel,

Oh! boys I’m just done.

CHORUS: Hard times in Old Virginia.

HYMN OF FREEDOM

Sung to the tune of “Hail Columbia.” “Sung by the Negroes on the island opposite Charleston, during the late War with Britain [War of 1812] composed by one of themselves.” Presented here in 1813 version.

Hail! Hail! ye Afric clan

Hail!ye oppressed, ye Afric band,

Who toil and sweat in Slavery bound;

(Repeated)

And when your health & strength are gone

Are left to hunger & to mourn.

Let Independence be your aim,

Ever mindful what ’tis worth.

Pledge your bodies for the prize

Pile them even to the skies!

Chorus

Firm, united let us be,

Resolved on death or liberty

As a band of Patriots joined

Peace & Plenty we shall find.

Look to Heaven with manly trust

And swear by Him that’s always just

That no white foe with impious hand

(Repeated)

Shall slave your wives & daughters more

Or rob them of their virtue dear.

Be armed with valor firm & true,

Their hopes are fixed on Heaven & you

That truth & justice will prevail

And every scheme of bondage fail.

Chorus

Firm, united &c…

Arise! Arise! shake off your chains

Your cause is just, so Heaven ordains

to you shall Freedom be proclaimed.

(Repeated)

Raise your arms & bare your breasts,

Almighty God will do the rest.

Blow the clarion! a warlike blast!

Call every Negro from his task!

Wrest the scourge from Buckra’s hand,

And drive each tyrant from the land,

Chorus

Firm, united &c..

THE NEGRO’S COMPLAINT

Sung to the tune of “Old Hundred.”

Written by Rev. Thomas Cooper (ca. 1775–ca. 1823) from The African Pilgrim’s Hymns (1820).

Source: John Lovell, Black Song: The Forge and the Flame, pp. 106–7.

Great God dost thou from heav’n above

View all mankind with equal love?

Why dost thou hide thy face from slaves,

Confin’d by fate to serve the knaves?

When stole and bought from Africa,

Transported to America,

Like the brute beasts in market sold,

To stand the heat and feel the cold.

To stand the lash and feel the pain,

Expos’d to stormy snow and rain.

To work all day and half the night,

And rise before the morning light! …

Although our skin be black as jet,

Our hair be friz’d and noses flat,

Shall we for that no freedom have,

Until we find it in the grave.

Hath heav’n decreed that Negroes must,

By wicked men be ever curs’d

Nor e’er enjoy our lives like men,

But ever drag the gauling chain.

When will Jehovah hear our cries,

When will the sons of freedom rise,

When will for us a Moses stand,

And free us from a Pharaoh’s land.

RECOGNITION MARCH OF THE INDEPENDANCE OF HAYTI

The cover of the sheet music for “Recognition March of the Independance [sic] of Hayti” tells us this music was composed “for the occasion” and is “Dedicated to President J.P. Boyer.” Presumably, the “occasion” was a celebration or commemoration of President Jean-Pierre Boyer’s declaration, on October 20, 1820, reuniting the north and south of the country into the Republic of Haiti. The variant spellings of words reflect the evolution English spelling was undergoing at this time. Webster’s first dictionary, for example, was published in 1828 in an attempt to establish American English as a language distinct from its parent, with simplified and phonetic spellings of many words. The name of the country of Haiti similarly underwent changes in spelling until finally settling in its current form.

The composition is notable for several reasons, not the least of which is that it is rarely mentioned in accounts of Francis Johnson’s illustrious career. In fact, the only mention of it I could find was in a listing of Johnson’s compositions compiled by Professor Dominique-René de Lerma (1928–2015). De Lerma was a noted musicologist and leading researcher of Johnson’s life and work. Even in this rare instance, it appears de Lerma was only aware of the existence of the work since he dates its composition “circa 1804.” Yet, as noted above, the march could not have been written before at least 1818 when J. P. Boyer first became president of a part of Haiti. Since it was 1820 when Boyer successfully united the whole country, it is much more likely that it was at that date or sometime shortly thereafter that Johnson would have written and dedicated his march.

THE AFRICAN HYMN

Written by the Reverend Shadrack Bassett. “The lyrics were more prophetic than the slaves in northern Virginia could have known,” according to Stephen B. Oates in The Fires of Jubilee: Nat Turner’s Fierce Rebellion, pp. 133–34.

We shall not always weep and groan

And wear these slavish chains of woe,

There’s a better day that’s coming

Come and go along with me.

Good Lord, O when shall slavery cease

And these poor souls enjoy their peace,

Good Lord, break the power.

Come and go along with me.

O! come, ye Africans, be wise

We’ll join the armies in the skies!

We’ll ruin Satan’s kingdom

Come and go along with me.

King Jesus now comes riding in,

He bids his army sound again.

They will ruin Satan’s kingdom

Come and go along with me.

I will pursue my journey’s end,

For Jesus Christ is still my friend,

O, may this friend go with me.

Come and go along with me—

Go sound the Jubilee.

NAT TURNER

Also known as “Gainin’ Ground.”

Source: collected by Lawrence Gellert and published in Mainstream, vol. 16, no. 2, February 1963, pp. 20–21.

Referred to by Pete Seeger, Russell Ames, and John Greenway.

Ames contributes an additional verse in Story of American Folksong, p. 151. It appears with the heading “Virginia 1831” below the three main verses in the lyrics. Ames writes: “With the tightening of all restrictions on them (the slaves) after the rebellion, any singing about Nat Turner had to be well disguised. A song about him has survived, in which there was humorous satire on the masters, who allowed it as kings once allowed jokes on themselves by court fools and jesters, mixed with a pun on Nat Turner’s name and veiled references to revolution and change.”

You mought be rich as cream,

And drive you coach and four horse team;

But you can’t keep the World from moverin’ ’round,

Nor Nat Turner from gaining ground.

You mought be reader and writer too

And wiser’n Old Solomon the Jew

But you can’t keep the World from moverin’ ’round,

Nor Nat Turner from gainin’ ground.

And your name it mought be Caesar sure

And got you cannon can shoot a mile or more

But you can’t keep the World from moverin’ ‘round

Nor Nat Turner from gainin’ ground.

Virginia 1831

You mought be a Carroll from Carrollton,

Arrive here night afo’ Lawd make creation,

But you can’t keep the world from moverin’ around

And not turn her back from the gaining ground.

WE’LL SOON BE FREE/MY FATHER, HOW LONG?

There are two versions of the same song. The first was in Thomas Wentworth Higginson’s Army Life in a Black Regiment (p. 169, XXXIV). He described it as follows: “For singing this the negroes had been put in jail in Georgetown, S.C., at the outbreak of the Rebellion. ‘We’ll soon be free’ was too dangerous an assertion, and though the chant was an old one, it was no doubt sung with redoubled emphasis during the new events. ‘De Lord will call us home’ was evidently thought to be a symbolical verse; for, as a little drummer boy explained it to me, showing all his white teeth as he sat in the moonlight by the door of my tent, ‘Dey tink de Lord mean for say de Yankees.’”

The second version is from Slave Songs of the United States, section IV, #112. I made a composite lyric; the music is based on that provided in Slave Songs of the United States.

My father, how long,

My father, how long,

My father, how long,

’Fore we done sufferin’ here?

My mother, how long,

My mother, how long,

My mother, how long,

’Fore we done sufferin’ here?

It won’t be long (thrice)

’Fore de Lord will call us home

We’ll soon be free (Thrice)

When Jesus sets me free.

We’ll fight for liberty (Thrice)

When de Lord will call us home.

MARCH ON

Discovered in The Story of the Jubilee Singers with Their Songs by J. B. T. Marsh (No. 44, p. 166).

Song referred to by both John Lovell in Black Song: The Forge and the Flame and John Wesley Work in Folk Song of the American Negro. These references were, however, not complete, and it was only with The Story of the Jubilee Singers that I could locate both full text and tablature.

Way over in the Egypt land,

You shall gain the victory

Way over in the Egypt land,

You shall gain the day

Chorus

March on, and you shall gain the victory

March on, and you shall gain the day

When Peter was preaching at the Pentecost

You shall gain the victory

He was endowed with the Holy Ghost

You shall gain the day

Chorus

When Peter was flashing in the Sea

You shall gain the victory

He dropped his net and followed me

You shall gain the day

Chorus

King Jesus on the mountain top

You shall gain the victory

King Jesus speaks and the chariot stops

You shall gain the day

Chorus

I later located a version of the song collected by Lawrence Gellert and published in Negro: An Anthology (1934) edited by Nancy Cunard and Hugh D. Ford. That text reads:

Oh brethren rise, give praise to glory

For the year of the Jubilee

Do you want to be a soldier

For the year of the Jubilee

Oh what you say brother

Oh what you say brother

Oh what you say brother

About dis wahr

I will die in the field

Stay in the field

Stay in the field brother

Stay in the field

Until the victory

March on and you shall gain the victory

March on an you shall gain the day

We want no cowards in our band

We call for only the strongest men

I intend to fight and never stop

Until I reach mountain top

CHILDREN, WE ALL SHALL BE FREE

Discovered in The Story of the Jubilee Singers with Their Songs by J. B. T. Marsh (No. 6, p. 130).

Song referred to by both John Lovell in Black Song: The Forge and the Flame and John Wesley Work in Folk Song of the American Negro.

Children, we all shall be free

Children, we all shall be free

Children, we all shall be free

When the Lord shall appear

We want no cowards in our band

That from their colors fly

We call for valiant hearted men

That are not afraid to die

Chorus

We see the pilgrim as he lies

With glory in his soul

To Heaven he lifts his longing eyes

And bids this world adieu

Chorus

Give ease to the sick, give sight to the blind

Enable the cripple to walk

He’ll raise the dead from under the earth

And give them permission to fly

Chorus

THE ENLISTED SOLDIERS, OR THE NEGRO BATTLE HYMN

Sung by the men of the US Colored Volunteers.

Source: Cabin and Plantation Songs as Sung by the Hampton Students (1901), p. 145.

Hark! listen to the trumpeters,

They call for volunteers,

On Zion’s bright and flow’ry mount,

Behold the officers.

Refrain: They look like men,

they look like men,

they look like men of war;

All armed and dressed in uniform,

They look like men of war.

Their horses white

their armor bright

With courage bold they stand,

Enlisting soldiers for their King,

To march to Canaan’s land.

Ref.

It sets my heart quite in a flame

A soldier thus to be,

I will enlist, gird on my arms,

And fight for liberty.

Ref.

We want no cowards in our band,

That will their colors fly;

We call for valiant hearted men,

Who’re not afraid to die.

Ref.

To see our armies on parade

How martial they appear,

All armed and dressed in uniform

They look like men of war.

Ref.

They follow their great General,

The great Eternal Lamb,

His garment stained in His own blood,

King Jesus is His name.

Ref.

The trumpets sound, the armies shout,

They drive the host of Hell,

How dreadful is our God to adore,

The great Immanuel.

Ref.

OLD MASSA, HE COME DANCIN’ OUT

Source: American Folksongs of Protest, Library of Congress Archive, American Folk Song, WPA Collection, pp. 104–5. Collected by Merton Knowles of Indiana from his mother, who learned and sang the song after the Civil War.

Old massa he come dancin’ out

An’ he call de blackuns round.

He pleased so well dat he couldn’t stand

Wid both feet on de ground.

You, Pomp and Pete and Dinah, too,

You’ll catch it now, I swear.

I’ll whip you good for mixin’ wid

De Yanks when dey was here.

Say, don’t you hear dem ’tillery guns,

You niggers, don’t you hear?

Ole General Bragg is a mowin’ ’em down,

Dem Yankees ober here.

Dar comes our troops in crowds and crowds,

I knows dat red and gray,

But oh! What makes dem hurry so

And trow dere guns away?

Ole massa now keep both feet still

And stare with bofe his eyes.

Till he see de blue coats jest behind

Dat take him wid surprise.

Ole massa busy wadin’ round

In swamps up to his knees,

While Dinah, Pomp, and Pete dey look

As if dey mighty pleased.

THE YEAR OF JUBALO, YEAR OF JUBILO, AND KINGDOM COMING

Source: American Folksongs of Protest, p. 104. Informant: Merton Knowles, WPA project worker: “Heard it from my mother, it was brought back by returning Union soldiers, and became a part of our folklore.” In Library of Congress, Archive of American Folk Song, Indiana. Authenticated by E. Southern, “Greenwood Encyclopedia Black Music,” p. 222.

Song so closely resembles “Kingdom Coming” (1862) by abolitionist Henry Clay Work that it is likely to have been brought by Union soldiers to newly liberated slaves who, in turn, made it their own.

This conclusion is supported by finding the song with different lyrics in Vol. 3, Series 2 (Texas) of The American Slave: A Composite Autobiography, contributed by Lorenzo Ezell, a former slave from Beaumont, Texas, District 3 (see Ezell’s comment with lyrics below).

Here are all three versions of the song: Merton Knowles’s version, Lorenzo Ezell’s version, and Henry Clay Work’s version. Note the different spelling of the word Jubalo/Jubilo.

THE YEAR OF JUBALO

Has anybody seen my massa

With the moustache on his face?

Go long the road some time this mornin’

Like he gwine to leab de place.

REFRAIN:

De massa run, ha! ha!

De darky stay, ho! ho!

It must be now dat de kingdom am a comin’

And de year of jubalo.

He seed a smoke way up de ribber

Where de Linkum gunboats lay;

He took his hat and he left mighty sudden,

And I speck dat he runned away.

He six feet one way, two feet todder,

And he weigh three hundred pound;

His coat so big dat he can’t pay de tailor,

An’ it won’t go half-way around.

De oberseer he gib us trubble

An de dribe us round a spell,

Den we lock him up in the smoke house cellar,

Wid de key throwed in de well.

De whip am lost and de handcuff broken,

An’ mass’ll get him pay.

He old enough, big enough, out to know better,

Dan to take an’ runned away.

YEAR OF JUBILO

Lorenzo Ezell’s version. Ezell stated: “My ol’ marster run off and stay in de woods a whole week w’en Sherman men come t’rough. He didn’ need to worry ’cause us tek care of eb’ryt’ing. Dey was a funny song w’at us mek up ’bout him runnin’ off in de woods. I know it was mek up ’cause my uncle hab ahn’ in it. It went like dis.”

W’ite folks hab you seed ol’ marster

Up de road wid he mustache on?

He pick up he hat and he lef’ real sudden

And I b’leeb he’s up and gone.

He seed a smoke way up de ribber

Where de Linkum gunboats lay;

He took his hat and he left mighty sudden,

And I speck dat he runned away.

Chorus

De massa run, ha! ha!

Us darkies stay, ho! ho!

It must be now dat de kingdom am a comin’

And de year of jubalo

He six foot one way, two foot tudder, and he weigh tree hundred pound

His coat so big, he couldn’t pay the tailor, an’ it won’t go halfway round

He drill so much dey call him Cap’n, an’ he got so drefful tanned

I spec’ he try an’ fool dem Yankees for to tink he’s contraband

Chorus

Us black folks feel so lonesome libbing in de loghouse on de lawn

We move ar tings into massa’s parlor for to keep it while he’s gone

Dar’s wine an’ cider in de kitchen, an’ I guess now we’ll have some;

I s’pose dey’ll all be cornfiscated when de Linkum sojers come

Chorus

De obserseer he make us trouble, an’ he dribe us round a spell;

We lock him up in de smokehouse cellar, wid de key trown in de well

De whip is lost, de han’cuff broken, but de massa’ll hab his pay;

He’s ole enough, big enough, ought to known better dan to went an’ run away

KINGDOM COMING

Henry Clay Work’s version of 1862.

Say, darkies, hab you seen de massa, wid de muffstash on his face

Go long de road some time dis mornin’, like he gwine to leab de place?

He seen a smoke way up de ribber, whar de Linkum gunboats lay;

He took his hat, and lef’ berry sudden, and I spec’ he’s run away!

CHORUS: De massa run, ha, ha! De darkey stay, ho, ho!

It mus’ be now de kindom coming, an’ de year ob Jubilo!

He six foot one way, two foot tudder, and he weigh tree hundred pound

His coat so big, he couldn’t pay the tailor, an’ it won’t go halfway round

He drill so much dey call him Cap’n, an’ he got so drefful tanned

I spec’ he try an’ fool dem Yankees for to tink he’s contraband

CHORUS

De darkeys feel so lonesome libbing in de loghouse on de lawn

Dey move dar tings into massa’s parlor for to keep it while he’s gone

Dar’s wine an’ cider in de kitchen, an’ de darkeys dey’ll have some;

I s’pose dey’ll all be cornfiscated when de Linkum sojers come

CHORUS

De obserseer he make us trouble, an’ he dribe us round a spell;

We lock him up in de smokehouse cellar, wid de key trown in de well

De whip is lost, de han’cuff broken, but de massa’ll hab his pay;

He’s ole enough, big enough, ought to known better dan to went an’ run away

CHORUS

AGONIZING, CRUEL SLAVERY DAYS

Library of Congress audio recording, lyrics transcribed. Further lyrics discovered in The American Slave: A Composite Autobiography, vol. 3, series 2 (Texas), pp. 952–53.

I am thinking today ’bout the times passed away,

When they tied me up in bondage long ago.

In old Virginia state, is where we separate.

And it fills my heart with misery and woe.

They took away my boy who was his mother’s joy.

A baby from the cradle him we raised.

Then they put us far apart and it broke the old man’s heart,

In those agonizing, cruel slavery days.

Chorus

Though they’ll never come again let us give our praise to Him.

Who looks down where the little children play.

Every night and morn’ we’ll pray for them that’s gone.

In those agonizing cruel slavery days.

At night when all is dark. We hear the watch dog bark

and listen to the murmurs of the wind.

It seemed to say to me, you people must be free.

For the happy ’times are comin’ Lord we pray.

My memory will steal o’er that dear old cabin floor and

in the shadows find those passed away

And for them we’ll weep and mourn

For our souls were not our own

In those agonizing cruel slavery days.

Repeat Chorus

I’m very old and feeble now my hair is turning gray.

I have traveled o’er the roughest kinds of roads.

Through all the toils and sorrows I have reached the end at last.

Now I’m resting by the way-side with my load.

Forget now and forgive has always been my guide.

For that’s what the Golden Scripture says.

But my memory will turn ’round back to when I was tied down, In those agonizing cruel slavery days.

Repeat Chorus

If you find an error or have any questions, please email us at admin@erenow.org. Thank you!