| | 1 | Author: | Trux, J. J. | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Negro Minstrelsy — Ancient and Modern  | | | | Published: | 1995 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | It is now some eighteen or twenty years since an enterprising
Yankee, actuated, it is but charitable to suppose, by the purest
love of musical art, by the enthusiasm of the discoverer, or by a
proper and praiseworthy desire for posthumous fame, produced upon
the boards of one of our metropolitan theatres, a musical sketch
entitled "Jim Crow." Beyond the simple fact of its production by
the estimable gentleman above referred to, the origin of this
ancient and peculiar melody is beyond the reach of modern
antiquarian lore. Whether it was first sung upon the banks of the
Alatamaha, the Alabama, or the Mississippi; or, whether it is pre-American, and a relic of heathen rites in Congo, or in that
mysterious heart of Africa, which foot of civilized man has never
trod, is a problem whose solution must be left to the zeal and
research of some future Ethiopian Oldbuck. It is sufficient for
the present disquisition to know that it appeared in the manner
above stated. To those (if there can be any such) who are
unacquainted with its character and general scope, it may be proper
to remark that "Jim Crow" is what may be called a dramatic song,
depending for its success, perhaps more than any play ever written
for the stage, upon the action and mimetic powers of the performer.
Its success was immediate and marked. It touched a chord in the
American heart which had never before vibrated, but which now
responded to the skilful fingers of its first expounder, like the
music of the Bermoothes to the magic wand of Prospero. The
schoolboy whistled the melody on his unwilling way to his daily
tasks. The ploughman checked his oxen in mid-furrow, as he reached
its chorus, that the poetic exhortation to "do just so," might have
the action suited to the word. Merchants and staid professional
men, to whom a joke was a sin, were sometimes seen by the eyes of
prying curiosity in private to unbend their dignity to that weird
and wonderful posture, now, alas! seldom seen but in historic
pictures, or upon the sign of a tobacconist; and of the thoroughly
impressive and extraordinary sights which the writer of this
article has in his lifetime beheld, the most memorable and
noteworthy was that of a young lady in a sort of inspired rapture,
throwing her weight alternately upon the tendon Achillis of the
one, and the toes of the other foot, her left hand resting upon her
hip, her right, like that of some prophetic sybil, extended aloft,
gyrating as the exigencies of the song required, and singing Jim
Crow at the top of her voice. Popularity like this laughs at
anathemas from the pulpit, or sneers from the press. The song
which is sung in the parlor, hummed in the kitchen, and whistled in
the stable, may defy oblivion. But such signal and triumphant
success can produce but one result. Close upon the heels of Jim
Crow, came treading, one after the other, "Zip Coon," "Long-tailed
Blue," "Ole Virginny neber tire," "Settin' on a Rail," and a host
of others, all of superior merit, though unequal alike in their
intrinsic value, and in their participation in public approval.
The golden age of negro literature had commenced. Thenceforward
for several years the appearance of a new melody was an event whose
importance can hardly be appreciated by the coming generation. It
flew from mouth to mouth, and from hamlet to hamlet, with a
rapidity which seemed miraculous. The stage-driver dropped a stave
or two of it during a change of the mails at some out of the way
tavern; it was treasured up and remembered, and added to from day
to day, till the whole became familiar as household words. Yankee
Doodle went to town with a load of garden vegetables. If upon his
ears there fell the echo of a new plantation song, barter and
sight-seeing were secondary objects till he had mastered both its
words and music. Thereafter, and until supplanted by some equally
enthusiastic and enterprising neighbor, Yankee Doodle was the hero
of his native vale, of Todd Hollow. Like the troubadours and
minstrels of ancient days, he found open doors and warm hearts
wherever he went. Cider, pumpkin pie, and the smiles of the fair
were bestowed upon him with an unsparing hand. His song was for
the time to him the wand of Fortunatus. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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