1. |
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Agonizing Cruel Slavery Days
- Discovered in Library of Congress audio recording, lyrics transcribed. Further lyrics discovered in The American Slave: A Composite Autobiography. Greenwood Publishing (1979) Vol. 3 series 2 (Texas) pp.952-953
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
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2. |
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The Dirge of St. Malo
- Discovered in The Social Implications of Early Negro Music In the United States. Bernard Katz, editor (New York 1969) pp 54-56 Chapter VI: Dance in the Place Congo and Creole Slave Songs by George Washington Cable originally published: The Century Magazine (XXXI, February 1886, pp. 517-532, and April 1886, pp. 807-823)
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.
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3. |
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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.
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4. |
Hymn of Freedom
03:54
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To the tune of: "Hail Columbia"
- First discovered in Herbert Aptheker Negro Slave Revolts in the United States 1526-1860 (1939) with the following description: “Sung by the Negroes on the island opposite Charleston, during the late War with Britain composed by one of themselves.”
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..
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5. |
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Uncle Gabriel the Negro General
- Three versions: first discovered in Poor Jack a novel by Frederick Marryat (originally published 1840) written as Gin’ral Gabriel-sea chanty. Second, collected by Lawrence Gellert, published in Mainstream Vol.16, No.2 February, 1963. Third, discovered in Ethiopian Glee Book, Christy Minstrels, 1849
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
CHO: Hard times in Old Virginia
2. Oh don’t you know Old Uncle Gabriel,
CHORUS: Oh! Oh!
Oh! he were that old slave General,
CHO. Oh¨Oh¨
He war de Chief of de Insurgents,
Way down in Southampton
CHO. Hard times in Old Virginia
3. ’Twas a little boy betrayed him,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
A little boy they call Daniel
CHO: Oh! Oh!
Betrayed him at de Norfolk landing,
Oh! boys I’m gettin’ done
CHO.Hard times in Old Virginia
4. Says he, “Good day Uncle Gabriel.”
CHO. Oh! Oh!
“I am not your Uncle Gabriel,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
My name it is Jim McCullen.
Some dey calls me Archey Mullin.”
CHO.Hard time in Old Virginia.
5. The whites dey fought and caught him,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
And to Richmond Court House brought him,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
Twelve men sot upon that jury,
Oh! boys I’m most done,
CHO. 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
CHO: Hard time in old Virginia.
7. Dey took him down to de Gallows,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
Dey drive him down, wid four grey horses,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
Brice’s Ben, he drove de waggon,
Oh! boys, I’m most done.
CHO. Hard times in Old Virginia.
8. And dare dey hung him and dey swung him,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
And dey swung him and dey hung him,
CHO. Oh! Oh!
That was the end of General Gabriel,
Oh! boys I’m just done.
CHO. Hard times in Old Virginia.
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6. |
The Negro’s Complaint
04:21
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The Negro’s Complaint
To the tune of: Old Hundred
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, 107
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.
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7. |
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8. |
The African Hymn
02:25
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The African Hymn
- Discovered in Stephen B. Oates, The Fires of Jubilee: Nat Turner’s Fierce Rebellion pp. 133-4, song written by the Reverend Shadrack Bassett.
I could not locate the music so I composed a melody according to styles current.
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.
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9. |
Nat Turner
03:06
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Nat Turner (Gainin' Ground)
- First discovered as "The Gainin’ Ground" in Pete Seeger Where Have All the Flowers Gone pg. 236
- later discovered it in John Greenway American Folksongs of Protest pg. 92-93
-and Russell Ames, The Story of American Folk Song, 1955, p.151-152
all three attribute discovery of the song to Lawrence Gellert
This is confirmed by Gellert, published in Mainstream Vol.16, No.2 February, 1963
The tablature provided by Seeger posed difficulties, so I composed a melody that was consistent with music of the period and fit the lyrics.
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 Ceaser 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.
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.
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10. |
My Father, How Long?
02:11
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My Father, How Long? / We’ll Soon Be Free
- Two versions of the same song. First in TW Higginson Army Life In A Black Regiment (pg. 169 XXXIV)
[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.’”——T.W.H.]
second version, Slaves Songs of the United States, section IV., #112.
I made a composite lyric; 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.
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11. |
March On
02:03
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March On
- Discovered in The Story of the Jubilee Singers With Their Songs by JBT Marsh (No. 44 pg. 166)
song referred to by both John Lovell, Black Song: the Forge and the Flame
and by John Wesley Work, A.M. in his 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, by Nancy Cunard (1934) 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
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12. |
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Children, We All Shall Be Free
- Discovered in The Story of the Jubilee Singers With Their Songs by JBT Marsh (No. 6 pg. 130)
song referred to by both John Lovell, Black Song: the Forge and the Flame
and by John Wesley Work, A.M. in his 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
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13. |
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Old Massa He Come Dancin’ Out
- Discovered in American Folksongs of Protest pp. 104-105 Greenway's attribution reads: "Lib. of Cong. Archive American Folk Song, WPA Collection. Collected by Merton Knowles of Indiana from his mother, who learned and sang the song after the Civil War." I confirmed this by consulting The American Slave: A Composite Autobiography, Vol. 5, series 1, Alabama and Indiana. I also confirmed that Merton Knowles was a former slave. (pg. 69 and pp.108-109) I could not locate the music so I composed a melody according to styles current
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.
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14. |
The Year of Jubilo
02:24
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The Year of Jubalo (Kingdom Coming)
American Folksongs of Protest pg. 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.” (Indiana) In Library of Congress Archive of American Folk song. (authenticated by E. Southern “Greenwood Encyclopedia Black Music” pg. 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 (in 41 Vol.) 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' version, Lorenzo Ezell's version followed by Henry Clay Work's version. Note the different spelling of the word Jubalo/Jubilo
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)
Lorenzo 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 (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
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15. |
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The Enlisted Soldiers or The Negro Battle Hymn
- First discovered in Cabin and Plantation Songs as Sung By the Hampton Students (1901) pg.146
NOTE:—“While recruiting and drilling the 9th Regiment, U.S. Colored troops at Benedict, Maryland, in the winter of 1863-64, the men gathered around the camp-fire would sing by the hour the melodies of the plantation slave life that they had just left-not always very melodious; but late one evening I was startled by a magnificent chorus from nearly a thousand black soldiers, that called me from my tent to listen to its most inspiring strains, and I caught the following words which I called the ‘Negro Battle Hymn.’” Samuel Chapman Armstrong, commander of the 8th US Colored Infantry regiment.
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.
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16. |
Rebeldia na Bandabou
01:04
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Rebeldia na Bandabou - Rebellion at Bandabou
- Discovered in Nanette De Jong, Tambu pp. 43-44
song composed by slaves in Curacao to celebrate a slave rebellion that occurred in 1795
the song is performed to this day in the language of Papiamentu, a Portuguese-based creole language that is one of the official languages of Curacao.
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!
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17. |
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Song of the “Aliened American”
To the tune of: America-My Country ’tis of Thee
source: The Emancipation Car (1854) pp. 17-18
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer: "America" - traditional, derived by lyricist Samuel Frances Smith from "God Save the King"
My country, ’tis of thee,
Dark land of Slavery,
In thee we groan,
Long have our chains been worn—
Long has our grief been borne—
Our flesh has long been torn,
E’en from our bones.
The white man rules the day—
He bears despotic sway,
O’er all the land.
He wields the Tyrant’s rod,
Fearless of man or God,
And at his impious nod,
We “fall or stand.”
O! shall we longer bleed?
Is there no one to plead
The black man’s cause?
Does justice thus demand
That we shall wear the brand,
And raise not voice nor hand
Against such laws?
No! no! the time has come,
When we must not be dumb,
We must awake.
We now “Eight Millions Strong,”
Must strike sweet freedom’s song
And lease ourselves, our wrong—
Our chains must break.
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18. |
A Song For Freedom
02:08
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A Song For Freedom
To the tune of: Dandy Jim
source: The Anti-Slavery Harp (1848)
author: unspecified
composer: "Dandy Jim From Caroline" - no known composer - published 1844 by A. Fiot (Philadelphia)
Come all ye bondmen far and near,
Let’s put a song in massa’s ear,
It is a song for our poor race,
Who’re whipped and trampled with disgrace.
Chorus: My old massa tells me O
This is a land of freedom O;
Let’s look about and see if ’tis so,
Just as massa tells me O
He tells us of that glorious one,
I think his name is Washington,
How he did fight for liberty,
To save a threepence tax on tea.
Chorus:
And then he tells us that there was
A Constitution, with this clause,
That all men equal are created,
How often have we heard it stated.
Chorus:
But now we look about and see,
That we poor blacks are not so free;
We’re whipped and thrashed about like fools,
And have no chance at common schools.
Chorus: Still, my old massa &
They take our wives, insult and mock,
And sell our children on the block,
Then choke us if we say a word,
And say that “niggers” shan’t be heard.
Chorus: Still, my old massa &
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19. |
||||
Stole and Sold From Africa
source: The Digital Library of Appalachia, Berea Collection
notes furnished by Rich Kirby, grandson of Addie Graham-- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Addie_Graham
"Addie Graham's repertoire included several extremely common songs such as "We're Stole and Sold From Africa", an anti-slavery song which seems to have originated in the antebellum Abolitionist movement. She also sang a number of songs of African American origin, many of which she learned from black railroad builders."
We're stole and sold from Africa
Transported to America
Like hogs and sheep we march in drove
Suffer the heat, endure the cold.
We're almost naked, as you see
Almost bare-footed as we be
Suffer the lash, endure the pain
Exposed to sun, both wind and rain.
See how they take us from our wives
Young children from their mother's side
They take us to some foreign land
Make slaves to wait on gentlemen.
Oh Lord, have mercy and look down
Upon the race of the African kind
Upon our knees pour out our grief
And pray to God for some relief..
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20. |
Right On!
02:04
|
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Right On!
To the tune of: Lenox
source: The Anti-Slavery Harp
author unspecified
composer: "Lenox" - Lewis Edson 1782
Ho! children of the brave,
Ho! freemen of the land,
That hurl’d into the grave
Oppression’s bloody band;
Come on, come on, and joined be we
To make the fettered bondman free.
Let coward vassals sneak
From freedom’s battle still,
Poltroons that dare not speak
But a their priests may will;
Come on, come on, and joined be we
To make the fettered bondman free.
On parchment, scroll and creed,
With human life blood red,
Untrembling at the deed,
Plant firm your manly tread;
The priest may howl, the jurist rave,
But we will free the fettered slave.
The tyrant’s scorn is vain,
In vain the slanderer’s breath,
We’ll rush to break the chain,
E’en on the jaws of death;
Hurrah! Hurrah! right on go we,
The fettered slave shall yet be free.
Right on, in freedom’s name,
And in the strength of God,
Wipe out the damning stain,
And break the oppressor’s rod;
Hurrah! Hurrah! right on go we,
The fettered slave shall yet be free.
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21. |
Flight of the Bondman
04:06
|
|||
Flight of the Bondman-Dedicated to William W. Brown, And Sung by the Hutchinsons
To the tune of: Silver Moon
source: The Anti-Slavery Harp (1848)
author: Elias Smith
composer: "Roll On, Silver Moon" - Jane Sloman - 1841 (adapted by Mat Callahan)
From the crack of the rifle and baying of hound,
Takes the poor panting bondman his flight;
His couch through the day is the cold damp ground,
But northward he runs through the night.
Chorus;
O, God speed the flight of the desolate slave,
Let his heart never yield to despair;
There is room ‘mong our hills for the true and the brave,
Let his lungs breathe our free northern air!
O, sweet to the storm-driven sailor the light,
Streaming far o’er the dark swelling wave;
But sweeter by far ‘mong the lights of the night,
Is the star of the north to the slave.
Chorus:
Cold and bleak are our mountains and chilling our winds,
But warm as the soft southern gales
Be the hands and the hearts which the hunted one finds,
‘Mong our hills and our own winter vales.
Chorus:
Then list to the ‘plaint of the heart-broken thrall,
Ye blood-hounds, go back to your lair;
May free northern soil soon give freedom to all,
Who shall breathe in its pure mountain air.
Chorus:
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22. |
The Underground Railroad
03:26
|
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The Underground Railroad
To the tune of: Nancy Till
source: The Emancipation Car (1854) pp.147-148
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer: "Nancy Till" - traditional
Don’t you hear the steam cars,
Don’t you hear them hum?
Get your hat and shoes on—
Be ready when they come.
Master’s fast asleep now—
I hope he’ll not awake;
For here’s an invitation now
To go across the Lake.
Chorus
Come boys, come, and go along with me,
And I’ll take you up where colored men are free
Come, boys, come—make no delay,
And I’ll take you up to Canada.
I hear old master say,
Just a day or two ago,
That he was going to sell us all,
Down to “‘Tucky ho;”
But here’s the Underground Horse,
A very noble nag;
“A free ride to colored men,”
Is written on his flag.
The Underground Railroad,
Is a queer machine;
It carries many passengers,
And never has been seen,
Old master goes to Baltimore,
And mistress goes away,
And when they see their slaves again
They’re all in Canada.
Uncle Sam has tried hard
To find the mystic route;
But well do our engineers
Know what they are about.
While he is sleeping soundly,
They are wide awake,
And firing up the engine,
That runs across the Lake.
The Underground Railroad
Is doing mighty well;
The number of her passengers
Is very hard to tell.
When once they ship for Canada,
It’s had to bring them back,
For “Johnny” runs a strong race,
And never flies the track.
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23. |
||||
To the White People of America
To the tune of: Massa's in the Cold, Cold Ground
source: The Emancipation Car (1854) pp. 13-14
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer: "Massa's in the Cold, Cold Ground" - Stephen C. Foster 1852
O'er this wide extended country,
Hear the solemn echoes roll,
For a long and weary century,
Those cries have gone from pole to pole;
See the white man sway his sceptre,
In one hand he holds the rod --
In the other hand the Scripture,
And says that he's a man of God.
Hear ye that mourning?
'Tis your brothers' cry!
O! ye wicked men take warning,
The day will come when you must die.
Lo! Ten thousand steeples shining
Through this mighty Christian land,
While four millions slaves all pining
And dying 'neath the Tyrant's hand.
See the "blood-stained" Christian banner
Followed by a host of saints (?)
While they loudly sing Hosannah,
We hear the dying slave's complaints:
Hear ye that mourning?
Anglo-sons of God,
O! ye Hypocrites take warning,
And shun your sable brothers blood.
In our Legislative members,
Few there are with humane souls,
Though they speak in tones of thunder
'Gainst sins which they cannot control,
Women's rights and annexation,
Is the topic by the way,
While poor Africa's sable nation
For mercy, cry both by night and day.
Hear ye that mourning?
'Tis a solemn sound,
O! ye wicked men take warning,
For God will send his judgment down.
Tell us not of distant Island --
Never will we colonize:
Send us not to British Highlands,
For this is neither just nor wise,
Give us equal rights and chances,
All the rights of citizens --
And as light and truth advances,
We'll show you that we all are men.
Hear ye that mourning?
'Tis your brothers sigh,
O! ye wicked men take warning,
The judgment day will come by and by.
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24. |
Liberty
00:39
|
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Liberty
To the tune of: Liberty
source: The Musical Harmonist (1800),
author: unspecified
composer: Stephen Jenks
No more beneath th’oppressive hand
Of tyranny we groan.
Behold the smiling, happy land
That freedom calls her own.
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25. |
The Band of Thieves
02:36
|
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The Band of Thieves
To the tune of: Scots Wha Hae
source: The Emancipation Car (1854)
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer "Scots Wha Hae" - traditional
Who are those who loud declare
All mankind their rights should share;
But the slaves their chains should wear?
’Tis the band of thieves.
Who are those who rule and reign -
Bind the black man down with chain -
Then his prayer and groans disdain?
’Tis the band of thieves.
Who are those who preach and pray
On the Holy Sabbath day;
Yet for slaves have naught to say?
’Tis the band of thieves.
Who are those who whine and sing
Praises to their Heavenly King;
Yet, will call the slave a “thing?”
’Tis the band of thieves.
Who so gentle meek and mild,
Say that they are undefiled;
Yet will steal their brother’s child?
’Tis the band of thieves.
Who are those that’s free from strife
Would not quarrel for their life,
Yet will sell their brother’s wife?
’Tis the band of thieves.
|
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26. |
The True Spirit
03:43
|
|||
The True Spirit
To the tune of: Rosin the Bow
source: The Emancipation Car (1854) pp. 86-87
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer: “Rosin the Bow” - traditional
Come all ye true friends of your Nation,
Awake from stupidity’s grave,
Come join in your country’s salvation,
And free the American slave.
And free the American slave
And free the American slave
Come join in your country’s salvation,
And free the American slave.
Come all of you half hearted freemen,
Your honesty now is at stake,
While over the slave you are dreaming,
Your government’s standard will break.
We wish not to sever the Union,
But rather in love to unite;
We hold not from our communion.
No man who will strive to do right.
We loathe the bare name of man-stealing,
And all who will aid in its cause,
And we are intent on repealing
That outrageous Fugitive Law.
We’ll sacrifice time and our money,
And life, too, if it is required,
While the blood of our brethren is running
We’ll flinch not nor ever grow tired.
|
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27. |
||||
Come Join the Abolitionists
To the tune of: When I Can Read My Title Clear
source: The Liberty Minstrel (1845) pp. 96-98
author: unspecified
composer: "When I Can Read My Title Clear" - traditional - original lyricist, Isaac Watts 1724
Come join the Abolitionists,
Ye young men bold and strong,
And with a warm and cheerful zeal,
Come help the cause along:
Come help the cause along,
And with a warm and cheerful zeal,
Come help the cause along
Oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful,
Oh that will be joyful,
When slavery is no more
When slavery is no more
When slavery is no more
’Tis then we’ll sing and offerings bring,
When slavery is no more
Come join the Abolitionists
Ye men of riper years,
And save your wives and children dear
From grief and bitter tears
From grief and bitter tears
And save your wives and children dear
From grief and bitter tears
Oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful,
Oh that will be joyful,
When slavery is no more
When slavery is no more
When slavery is no more
’Tis then we’ll sing and offerings bring,
When slavery is no more
Come join the Abolitionists,
Ye dames and maidens fair;
And breath around us in our path
Affection’s hallowed air.
Oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful,
Oh that will be joyful,
When woman cheers us on,
When woman cheers us on,
To conquests not yet won
’Tis then we’ll sing, and offerings bring,
When woman cheers us on.
Come join the Abolitionists
Ye sons and daughters all;
Of this our own America,
Come at the friendly call.
O that will be joyful, joyful, joyful
O that will be joyful,
When all shall proudly say,
This, this is Freedom’s day,
Oppression flee away!
’Tis then we’ll sing and offerings bring,
When Freedom wins the day.
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28. |
||||
The Voice of Six Hundred Thousand Nominally Free
To the tune of: The Marseillaise
source: The Emancipation Car (1854) pg. 27-28
author: Joshua McCarter Simpson
composer: "The Marseillaise" - Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle 1792
Come, friends, awake! The day is dawning,
’Tis time that we were in the field;
Shake off your fears and cease your yawning,
And buckle on your sword and shield,
And buckle on your sword and shield,
The enemy is now advancing,
The Tyrant-Host is great and strong
But ah, their reign will not be long,
We shrink not at their war-steeds prancing.
Stand up, stand up my boys,
The battle field is ours;
Fight on! Fight on! all hearts resolved,
To break the Tyrant’s power.
The men of God have quite deserted
The battle-field and gone their way;
The world will never be converted,
While tyrants bear despotic sway;
While tyrants bear despotic sway;
The infidels are quite astounded,
And Atheists do speechless stand,
To see God’s image wear the brand,
While with God’s word, they thus surrounded,
Stand up! Stand up! my braves,
The army ne’er forsake;
March on! March on! all hearts resolved,
The tyrant’s power to break.
We boast not of our might in number;
Our weapons are not carnal steel;
The weight of arms does not encumber
Our progress in the battle field;
Our progress in the battle field;
But truth, the mighty arm of power,
Shall smite the great Goliah down,
And pluck from Monarch’s head the crown
Which o’er our race has long been towering.
Be brave! Be brave my boys!
March on! March on! all hearts resolved
To leave the ranks no more.
’Tis true that we are few in number,
And yet, those few are brave and strong,
Like Athen’s mighty sons of thunder,
Upon the plains of Marathon;
Upon the plains of Marathon;
With courage bold, we’ll take our station,
Against the mighty host of whites,
And plead like men for equal rights,
And thus exalt our fallen Nation.
“To arms! To arms! my braves,”
The sword of truth unsheath.
Match on! March On! all hearts resolved,
On Liberty or death.
|
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29. |
||||
We’re Coming! We’re Coming!
To the tune of: Kinloch of Kinloch
source:The Anti-Slavery Harp (William Wells Brown)
author: George W. Clark
composer: “Kinloch of Kinloch” - traditional
We’re coming, we’re coming, the fearless and free,
Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea!
True sons of brave sires who battled of yore,
When England’s proud lion ran wild on our shore!
We’re coming, we’re coming, from mountain and glen,
With hearts to do battle for freedom again;
Oppression is trembling as trembled before
The slavery which fled from our fathers of yore.
We’re coming, we’re coming, with banners unfurled,
Our motto is FREEDOM, our country the world;
Our watchword is LIBERTY—tyrants beware!
For the liberty army will bring you despair!
We’re coming, we’re coming, we’ll come from afar,
Our standard we’ll nail to humanity’s car;
With shoutings we’ll raise it, in triumph to wave,
A trophy of conquest, or shroud for the brave.
Then arouse ye, brave hearts, to the rescue come on!
The man-stealing army we’ll surely put down;
They are crushing their millions, but soon they must yield,
For freemen have risen and taken the field.
Then arouse ye! arouse ye! the fearless and free,
Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea;
Let the north, west, and east, to the sea-beaten shore,
Resound with a liberty triumph once more.
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30. |
Woman's Rights
01:53
|
|||
Woman's Rights
To the tune of: Indian Philosopher-Ganges
source: display at the David Ruggles Center, Florence, MA.
author: David Ruggles
composer: "The Indian Philosopher" - Amzi Chapin, c.1798
Come heavenly muse, inspire my song
To whom the arts divine belong,
And whom I now invoke
Say, wait it e'er by fate designed,
To crush a free, immortal mind
Beneath a tyrant's yoke?
Was woman formed to be a slave-
To sink in thralldom to the grave,
And freedom never know?
Say, must she toil and sweat and bleed
A pampered lordling's pride to feed,
And every joy forego?
Ah, yes! McDuffie, Southern King,
Has taught the fact, and made it ring
From southern plains to northern hills
That woman's hands were made to wear
The accursed chain! Her for to bear
Life's heaviest-direst ills.
But, Tyrant Kind, avaunt I pary;
Humanity demands a stay
?Til she address the nation:
And plead the cause of woman's right,
By urging on in Pharaoh's spite
INSTANT EMANCIPATION.
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31. |
What Mean Ye?
04:28
|
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What Mean Ye? also known as Where Is Thy Brother?
To the tune of: Ortonville
Sources: Anti-Slavery Melodies (1843) Hymn 10, The Liberty Minstrel (1845) pg.182, The Harp of Freedom (1856 ) pg. 318
author: unspecified
composer: “Ortonville” from the Sacred Harp - Thomas Hastings 1837
What mean ye that bruise and bind
My people, saith the Lord,
And starve your craving brother’s mind,
That asks to hear my word?
What mean ye that ye make them toil
Through long and dreary years,
And shed like rain upon your soil
Their blood and bitter tears?
What mean ye that ye dare to rend
The tender mother’s heart;
Brothers from sisters, friend from friend,
How dare you bid them part?
What mean ye, when God’s bounteous hand
To you so much has given,
That from the slave who tills your land
You keep both earth and heaven?
When at the judgement God shall call,
Where is thy brother? say,
What mean ye to the Judge of all,
To answer on that day?
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