As with the Chinese, the customs in general of the Japanese are at total variance with our own; to show respect we take off our hat, they their shoes. We get up, they sit down, (it is the height of impoliteness to receive a visitor standing.)[187]

We turn the back as a mark of incivility, they as a token of respect;[188] their mixture of the truest modesty with the greatest license, must ever remain an enigma to us. Since then, we cannot in other respects, judge this remarkable people, it behooves us, in the field of music, to study them without preconceived ideas of the art. That music is in an undeveloped state with them, is undoubtedly true; the absence of treatises and system proves it; but what direction the art will take in its development can only be settled by time. That it will not remain stationary in the midst of change, is a foregone conclusion.

CHAPTER XVIII.
MUSIC OF SAVAGE NATIONS.

The music of savage tribes, should properly begin a chronological account of the music of the world. It can scarce be doubted that the strains which to-day delight the ears of the rudest peoples, were similar to those which gave pleasure to the uncultivated denizens of the earth in pre-historic times. The scientific inquirer, even to-day, finds unexpected points of resemblance in music of nations and tribes, separated from each other in distance, custom, climate and religion; resemblances which are so numerous that they can only be accounted for by the hypothesis that the strains have come down from an earlier, homogeneous race. Of course the earliest efforts of primitive man were rather rhythmical than musical, and even at present the music of the least civilized races is altogether rhythmical. The ease of the discovery that a regular clapping of the hands, or stamping of the feet, or striking two pieces of wood together, could produce a pleasing effect, is so apparent that it puts all discussion as to the origin of music, out of sight; a fortunate occurrence, since there are enough points of dispute yet left for our wiseacres to contend over.

The discovery of drums and horns also came almost directly from nature; and here the musical instruments of primitive man stopped; and here also (in drums, clappers of wood, and trumpets) the catalogue of musical instruments, of the more savage peoples, of the present, ceases.

But among the more advanced tribes of savages, we shall find instruments that will cause us to coincide with Solomon’s opinion, that “there is nothing new under the sun.”

With these, who did not stop contented at the rude percussion and trumpet instruments, the next step was probably to cut reeds of various lengths and to discover that the length regulated the tone. Here was the first real discovery in music, for no sooner were high and deep tones known than pleasant alternations would suggest themselves, and as a consequence, melodies (however uncouth) sprang into being. Possibly at the same mystic era, the tension of the sinews of some animal, left exposed to the breeze, would fore-shadow string music. Then a thought was required to find that the sounds varied with tension of the sinews, and that a frame on which several threads and sinews were extended in different degrees of tension, could be made to give the same variety of tones, but of different quality of sound (timbre) from the reed pipes. This already made demands upon the inventive faculties, and in the infancy of music, as in the modern orchestra, stringed instruments take the lead.[189]

It is improbable, however, that all nations went the same road in these discoveries. Accident had much to do with it. The conch shell, among a tribe near the sea, the horn, with a hunting people, and, with people situated near the bamboo forests, the “pans pipes,” would be the first of instruments. Instruments of the order of flutes, were also of easy fabrication, and the knowledge that they are so wide-spread among savages all the world over, is internal evidence that they were “natural” instruments.

Without sketching further the probable progress of musical invention, we shall now describe some of the instruments and songs used by the people of the world who are yet in a state of nature. But first let us mention some instruments, which have been handed down to us from an immensely remote and ante-civilized period.

The antiquarians in classifying the progress of pre-historic races from their earliest emergence from barbarism, have called that age, when the use of metal became first known,—the Bronze Age; as at that time smelting not being known, the use of iron was not understood, and metal implements were fashioned of copper, which could be beaten by the hammer (of stone) into the required shape, even when cold.

Of this mysterious epoch, a most interesting relic has been discovered, in the shape of a musical instrument. In a sepulchre, in a deep ravine, in Schleswig, were found very recently, a number of ornaments of bronze and gold (silver as well as iron, was not then used), and also the horns of many oxen. In the midst of this, lay a very large trumpet of bronze; a sure token of the existence of manufactured musical instruments, thousands of years ago. This unique instrument when blown, gives forth a deep, grave, and sonorous tone. In common with all the barbarian trumpets, it has but one tone. It is at present in the Museum of Copenhagen, but was exhibited at the Paris Exposition of 1867.[190]

The second of these instruments is more ancient still. The age preceding the knowledge of the uses of metal by early man, is called the Stone Age. At this period the rude implements of use and ornament were made either of soft substances, such as wood, ivory, and horn, or else of stone. Even in this crude epoch, instrumental music seems to have existed, and not in its rudest form, for a specimen has fortunately been preserved, which, if authenticated fully, will show a degree of musical taste at a most unexpected period. In an ancient dolman, or sepulchre near Poictiers was found a partly completed flute made of a stag’s horn. The distances of the holes, and shape of the mouth-piece, show an aptitude of construction and an experience in acoustics; but the instrument evidently belongs to the later period of the Stone Age.

But the third instrument is more interesting yet. It was discovered by M. Lartet in a ravine, along with bones of animals now extinct in France. It is also a flute (straight, and with mouth piece), with finger holes.[191] It is made of the bone of a reindeer, which seems a proof positive of its being made at a time when the climate and zoology of France were totally different from the present. From the skulls found in tombs and caves of this period, it appears impossible that man could have been developed sufficiently at that time to construct an article of pleasure, such as this. The skulls are said to greatly resemble those of the present natives of Australia. Yet their possessors must have had a vastly superior intelligence to the latter.

It is no great leap in fact, although it may be in time, to leave the savages of our own ancient race, and describe the musical customs of the savages of another, and inferior one. Therefore, we will leave the discussion of the above three instruments and their makers to Anthropological and Ethnological societies, and pass on to the examination of the barbarian of the present age.

One of the most curious facts in savage music is to be found in New Zealand. It is almost universally conceded that harmony was unknown to Europeans until the tenth century; yet in New Zealand for unknown ages, a combination of simple thirds in a short vocal strain[192] has been known. It only illustrates the assertion of the force of accident, in the rise of music.

Here was a savage tribe of cannibals who came upon a most important musical idea (to be sure, in a crude state, but still the germ of the Harmonic theory) probably long before its acceptance among civilized nations.

Another strange savage song is that which was sung by the aborigines of Canada, at the time of Cartier’s taking possession in the name of the King of France (A. D. 1537). The curious fact here, was not in the music, but in the words, in as much as the word “Alleluia” occurred in it. This strange coincidence made some early writers conclude that the inhabitants were Hebrews,[193] probably the lost tribes; it is needless to say, that the surmise, was not borne out by any further researches.

In describing the music of barbarian races, we find that its sister art, dancing, is closely connected with it, and that it is impossible to separate the two. In the lowest tribes, the dance is the most prominent part of the musical efforts of the people. The Australians, who are considered, from the conformation of their skulls, and legs, to be nearest to the brute creation, have many interesting dances. The most important of these is the “Cobbongo Corrobboree,” or great mystery dance. It is performed by the inhabitants of the far interior of the island. We subjoin the account of a witness of this event.

The time selected for this great event is every twelfth moon, and during her declination. For several days previous, a number of tribes, whose territories adjoin one another, congregate at a particular spot, characterised by an immense mound of earth, covered with ashes (known amongst the white inhabitants as “a black’s oven”), and surrounded by plenty of “couraway” or water holes.

To this place, they bring numbers of kangaroos, possums, emus, and wild ducks, and a large quantity of wild honey, together with a grass from the seed of which they make a sort of bread.

“Upon the evening on which the ‘corrobboree’ is celebrated, a number of old men (one from each tribe) called ‘wammaroogo,’ signifying medicine-men, or charm-men, repair to the top of the mound, where, after lighting a fire they walk round it, muttering sentences, and throwing into it portions of old charms which they have worn round their necks for the past twelve months.”

“This is continued for about half an hour, when they descend, each carrying a fire-stick, which he places at the outskirts of the camp, and which is supposed to prevent evil spirits from approaching. As soon as this is over, during which a most profound silence is observed by all, the men of the tribe prepare their toilets for the ‘corrobboree,’ daubing themselves over with chalk, red ochre, and fat.”[194]

“While the men are thus engaged, the gentler sex are busy arranging themselves in a long line, and in a sitting posture, with rugs made of possum skins, wound round their legs, and a small stick called ‘mulla mulla’ in each hand. A fire is lit in front of them, and tended by one of the old charmers. As the men are ready, they seat themselves, cross-legged, like tailors, and in regular serried file, at the opposite side of the fire to the women, while one of the medicine-men takes up his position at the top of the mound, to watch the rising of the moon which is the signal for ‘corrobboree.’”

All is now still; nothing disturbs the silence, save the occasional jabber of a woman or child, and even that, after a few minutes, is hushed. The blaze of the fire throws a fitful light along the batallion-like front of the black phalanx, and the hideous faces, daubed with paint and smeared with grease, show out at such a moment to anything but advantage. As soon as the old gentleman who has been “taking the lunar” announces the advent of that planet, which seems to exercise as great an influence over the actions of these people, as over many of those amongst ourselves, the “corrobboree” commences.

“The women beat the little sticks together,[195] keeping time to a peculiar monotonous air, and repeating the words, the burden of which may be translated in this manner,—

Each woman using the name of her husband, or favorite in the tribe.”

“The men spring to their feet with a yell that rings through the forest, and brandishing their spears, and boomerangs commence their dance, flinging themselves into all sorts of attitudes, howling, laughing, grinning, and singing; and this they continue until sheer exhaustion compels them to desist, after which they roast and eat the product of the chase gathered for the occasion, and then drop off to sleep one by one.”[196]

We have already expressed our opinion that the dance (pantomimic) first sprang into existence when some savage finding his own limited language (perhaps even, he had none) inadequate to describe to his companions, some deed of hunting or war which he had performed, reproduced the feat in actions, to give a more perfect understanding of it. If song be as old as speech, dancing may be said to be as old as gestures.

We are not surprised, therefore, to find among the Australians, dances which represent such events. In the “frog dance,” the performers paint themselves as usual, and then, squatting upon their haunches, jump around in a circle imitating the motions of the frog. The “Emu dance” represents the chase after that swift running bird. The performer who takes the part of the Emu, imitates its fleet, long strides, and gives out the low rattling drumming sound which is the bird’s only note.

In the “canoe dance” men and women stationed in two lines, imitate the graceful motions of paddling a canoe.

There is a dance “with partners” prevalent in the southern part of Australia. Both sexes participate in it. Each man carries a belt of possum skin, or human hair, which he keeps stretched tight, holding one end in each hand. The men all sit down in a circle while a woman takes her place in the middle; one of the men then dances up to her, jumping from side to side, and swaying his arms in harmony with his movements. The woman also begins swaying and jumping in time with him, as he approaches her, and after a short pas de deux they dance back to their places, while the centre is occupied by a fresh couple.

A strange dance was celebrated by the Tasmanians at each full moon. The various tribes assembled at some trysting place, and while the women prepared the fire, and fenced off a space for the dance, the men retired to adorn themselves with paint, and to fasten branches of bushy twigs to their ankles, wrists and waists. The women being seated at the front of the space, one of the oldest among them, strode forward, calling by name, one of the performers, whom she reviled as a coward, and challenged to come forward and meet her charge, and answer it.

The warrior was swift enough in his response, and, bounding through the fire, into the circle, he recounted his deeds of valor in both chase and war. At every pause he made, his female admirers took up the list of his praises, vaunting his actions in a sort of chant which they accompanied with extemporized drums, made of rolled kangaroo skins.

“Suddenly upon some inspiring allegro movement of the thumping hand, thirty or forty grim savages would hound successively through the furious flames, into the sacred arena, looking like veritable demons on a special visit to terra firma; and, after thoroughly exhausting themselves, by leaping in imitation of the kangaroo, around and through the fire, they vanish in an instant. After this, the old lady who was the origination of all the hubbub, gave a signal, upon which, all the females rose, and quite unadorned, gave a series of acrobatic performances around the fire, that were strange and wonderful to behold. The main point being however, with each of them, to outscream her sister singers.”[197]

In the dances of Australia and Tasmania, only the rudest instruments of percussion are used, and the chants are not musical, though sometimes (rarely) the attitudes are graceful. A far more musical and poetical people, are the New Zealanders who as we have already mentioned, intuitively knew of harmony before the Europeans. Many of their love, war, and religious songs have real sentiments of beauty in them, and the gift of improvising poems and songs is much prized among them. Singular to state, they (unlike all other savage races) do not use the drum in their accompaniment. The pahu (drum) is only used by them to give military signals.[198] Their chief instrument is the flute, which is usually made from a human thigh bone; often that of a fallen enemy. When this is the case, the instrument is more than ordinarily prized, and is worn around the neck. It is played through the nose, by placing the nostril against the aperture, and blowing; stopping the other nostril with the finger.

The native New Zealander sings in all his sports and labours, and in spite of his penchant for human flesh, is of a light and joyous temperament. Every incident of war, chase or love is commemorated by an extemporized song. Sometimes these songs live for generations after their signification has passed away; and thus it is, that in many of the songs of this people, words are found, of which, neither the singers nor audience understand the meaning. One song (E’Haka) is accompanied with much mimicry; when giving this, the performers sit down in a circle, throw off their upper mats, and sing in concert, making meanwhile the wildest of gestures, and turning up their eyes so that only their whites are visible.

Their canoe song is very animating, and is often accompanied by the primitive nose flute mentioned above.

The words (improvised) are such as “pull away! pull away! pull away.” “Dig into the water.” “Break your backs,” etc., and are shouted with stentorian lungs, but not unmusically.

But their greatest song and dance is the war-dance. In this they far excel all other savage tribes the world over. Their movements although extremely violent, are made with a precision and unity, to which all other races are strangers. A description of this unique performance speaks of it as follows.

“They begin by smearing the whole of their clothing and painting their faces with scarlet ochre, so as to make themselves as hideous as possible. When they assemble for the dance they arrange themselves in lines usually three deep, and excite their naturally passionate dispositions to the highest pitch by contorting their faces, and thrusting out their tongues as an act of defiance, interspersing these gestures with shouts, yells and challenges to the enemy. The dance itself begins with stamping the feet in perfect time with each other, the vigor of the stamp increasing continually, and the excitement increasing in similar proportion. Suddenly with a yell, the whole body of men leap sideways into the air, as if actuated by one spirit, and as they touch the ground, come down on it with a mighty stamp that makes the earth tremble. The war song is raised, and in accordance with its rhythm, the men leap from side to side, each time coming down with a thud, as of some huge engine.”[199]

The New Zealander often entertains himself with sham fights,[200] but nothing has so intense an effect upon him as the music and action of this rhythmic war-dance. Even when actual war is not impending, he will enter into it with a vigor that is terrible. It transforms him for the time into a monomaniac, and absorbs his whole nature; even when the dance is given in honor of a stranger, it is dangerous to go too near the Maori (native New Zealander) until he has become more tranquil.

On one occasion a party of New Zealanders, visiting a European ship, were requested to give an exhibition of their war-dance on board. They did so, beginning without much excitement, but gradually their leaps became so fierce and powerful that the captain was afraid that they would break the deck; he begged of them to desist, but in vain; he might as well have spoken to a whirlwind. His voice was drowned in the shouts and singing of the frenzied warriors. The chief of the party, showed the influence of its charms, in a ludicrous manner:—

He had been presented on his arrival, with a full suit of naval uniform, and he stalked around the deck, in all the dignity of new clothes. He cheerfully allowed his followers to begin the war-dance, but he himself looked on with conscious dignity; but after the excitement had continued a few minutes, he too was drawn into its vortex. At first a gentle swaying of his body, in time with the music was all: then a little sotto voce singing, then he joined in the rhythm stamping, and finally, forgetting his new finery, he sprang into line and danced more enthusiastically than any of them; so much so, that the clothes soon split, and at the end of the dance he presented a very seedy appearance. It is needless to say that the dance could not in any way be checked, and found its conclusion only when all the dancers were reduced to a state of complete exhaustion.

With all savage people, song, dance and poetry are indissolubly united; a fact which goes far to prove the “naturalness” of the old Greek music. In the Malaysian archipelago we find a similar style of music, to that described above; but we find the natural instrument of barbarians, the drum, far more plentifully used.

The Javanese have two kinds of drums, both made of copper, but differing in size and pitch. The sound is like that of a distant bell, and as they are used in sets, the compass often reaches an octave. The larger set, called Salendro contains but five tones in this interval; the general effect of this set is major. The smaller set, called Pelog, contains seven drums to the octave, and is minor in style. The natives themselves speak of the Salendro as being masculine, and the Pelog as being more tender and feminine in its effect.

The songs of Java (as also of other islands in the Malay archipelago) are strongly suggestive of the Scotch popular ballads, and can readily be reproduced in our scale.

It is not customary to sing the written poems, with an instrumental accompaniment unless there is dancing simultaneously. As in French poetry and song, many letters, usually mute, are sounded, so in the Javanese much license of pronunciation is allowed in song, which would be condemned in prose. There are some traces of inflection and accent, altering the meaning of a word; thus “boten” signifies “no,” but when the accent is placed on the first syllable, it signifies a haughty or peremptory refusal, but when on the latter, a mild and regretful one.

The Javanese have three styles of musical compositions, the great, medium, and lesser. The latter is used for the popular songs, the former for the higher flights of poetry.

Very often one can hear an old native, on a holiday occasion, singing of the great deeds of the ancient princes; the subjects of his ballads, are often borrowed from the babads, or popular legends of the country, and he accompanies himself with a species of stringed instrument. He sings of the glories and fall of the kingdom of Pad-jad-jaran, and praises and laments those royal heroes. Many of the love songs of the Malays are written in the form of question and answer, as follows,—

This questioning and answering is not confined to their music, for the Javanese are passionately fond of conundrums.[201] The imagery of their poems and songs is of the simplest and most natural description, fields, flowers, trees, rivers, etc., appear ad infinitum in their literature.[202] Their early historical legends are full of Gods in human form, of giants, and miracles; somewhat resembling in this the Hindoo allegories.

Theatrical representations, of course form a large part of both Malaysian and Polynesian popular amusements. In Java, national history is preserved not only by the ballads, but by pantomimic representations; in the latter, little puppets made of leather, wood, or paper, and sometimes masked performers, appear. The performance is accompanied by orchestral music, certain stringed instruments of which are only played by women. Some of the representations are given at night behind a white curtain, and resemble what, with us, are called, “shadow pantomimes;” these are performed mostly by females, and often last all night, breaking up, at times, as late as six in the morning.

At all Javanese fetes, music is played, and every native is expected to entertain such wandering musicians as apply to him. A refusal is apt to cost dearly, as the irate musicians stone the dwelling of the obdurate one.[203]

M. Scherzer, connected with the Austrian Round-the-world expedition in 1857 (in the frigate Novara), was not highly delighted with the Javanese pantomime dancing and music;[204] he says:

“Conversation was carried on with difficulty, for an incessant and stupefying noise was kept up with the gammelong, or orchestra of bells. Bayaderes, very scantily clothed, and excessively ugly, executed sentimental and religious dances of a most tedious description.

Stiff, slow, and thin, these damsels jumped like forks, with motions as graceful as those of old semaphores. The governor was kind enough to explain to us, that the dance was meant to represent the touching history of four sisters, who, lost in the forest, implored from the divinity the return of their mother.

This was followed by another choregraphic entertainment, a dance of eight warriors, accompanied by the perpetual gammelong. The same delectable music, delighted the ears of those who were without in the court-yard. Hideous masks, on foot and on horseback, circulated there amidst the crowd; a Mussulman priest was also howling fearfully, as he danced on hot ashes, near to a mass of burning wood; others jumped in and danced away frantically. At last the priest himself joined them, and the shouts and gesticulations became furious. This representation had probably some signification of religious expiation, at least it would have been deemed as such in ancient mysteries.”

After this followed conjuring tricks of a wonderful, though sanguinary description, “and then the infernal gammelong began again.” Then came excellent fireworks. “At last the gammelong ceased its stunning noise.”

During Captain Cook’s voyage round the world, Banks and Solander, two of his best associates witnessed (A. D. 1769) a pantomime in one of the Society islands. It was of a comic nature, and contained music and dancing. The subject was the adventures of a thief, including his capture.[205] In Cook’s second voyage, Forster observed a comic opera in the Society islands, which appear closely allied to the above. Actors and actresses appeared in this play, the first act of which concluded with a burlesque beating of three of the participants. The commencement of the second act was announced by the musicians beating their drums.[206]

In the Tonga islands, the actors of these musical dramas recite sentences which are answered by a chorus of singers. There is a great variety in their movements and groupings. Occasionally they sing slowly, and afterwards quickly for about a quarter of an hour. Sometimes they form a semi-circle, assume a bending position, and sing in a subdued tone of voice, a soft air, which is soon followed again by a loud and vehement declamation.

It is a singular fact that some of the races most addicted to cannibalism are also much addicted to music. We have seen this already in the case of the New Zealanders; it will be fully as apparent with the most cannibalistic race of the globe,—the Fiji Islanders. With them, music teaching is a remunerative art, and any one who has composed a new song or dance, can earn a large quantity of goods by teaching it. Their musical instruments are poor and few; they consist of pipes, flutes, drums, and trumpets. The trumpets are merely conch shells, blown through an aperture in the side.

The flutes are nose-flutes, played by putting the aperture under one nostril, closing the other with the thumb of the left hand, and blowing. The pipes are a species of pandean pipes made of bamboo.

The dances are very carefully got up, and more resemble military movements than dances, the similitude being increased by the martial array of the dancers, who are all dressed as if for war, their faces painted with scarlet, their bodies powdered black, and their best clubs or spears in their hands. They execute intricate manœuvres, marching in various figures, wheeling, halting, and stamping their feet in exact time to the rhythm of the song, and the beat of the drum.

Sometimes several hundred men are engaged in the dance, while the musicians are twenty or thirty in number. The scene at one of these dances is very picturesque, but it wants the furious energy, which gives such fiery animation to the war-dance of the New Zealanders; the movements, though correct in point of time, being comparatively dull and heavy. In order to enliven it a little more, a professional buffoon is usually introduced upon the scene, who performs sundry grotesque movements, and is usually applauded for his exertions. Music and dancing are always used at the celebration of a marriage.[207] Mr. Seeman in a recent work[208] says of the entertainment called Kalau Rere, that, “with its high poles, streamers, evergreens, [these cannibals are very tasty in their personal adornments, wreaths of flowers, evergreens, etc., being much used], masquerading, trumpet shells, chants, and other wild music, is the nearest approach to dramatic representation, the Fijians seem to have made, and it is with them, what private theatricals are with us. Court fools, in many instances hunchbacks, are attached to the chief’s establishment.”

The music of the remaining races of Oceanica, does not differ very materially from the above-described forms. Many of the instruments found in use among the Malays, have had their origin in China and India,[209] and therefore the description of them has not been made so minute as that of the instruments of those countries. Summed up briefly, we find that the taste for rhythm is every where prevalent; for instruments of percussion, almost so, (the New Zealanders forming a notable exception here), and that the prevailing impulse of these races, on hearing rhythmic music, is to dance.

We now proceed to the examination of the music of another large division of the human race.

CHAPTER XIX.
AFRICAN MUSIC.

In describing the music of the natives of Africa, we will place in contrast the modes of the two extremes of the scale of intelligence.

The Kaffir is certainly as far in advance of the Bushman, as we are in advance of the native Indian. The Kaffir is peculiar in music; very deficient in melody, he is almost perfect in rhythm and time-keeping. He is fond of singing in company, and in fact is a rather convivial person altogether. At social meals, while the food is cooking, the guests often amuse themselves by singing together until the repast is in readiness. The subjects of the songs are various; love songs, and war songs being held in equal favor, but the Kaffir is always specially pleased with any song that relates to the possession of cattle; and being a cattle-owning people, they have many songs celebrating their favorite subject.

Many of the Kaffir’s musical effects would seem most ludicrous to us. Sudden contrasts, have, to him, a special attraction, and it is not unusual to hear him give the highest squeaks of falsetto, and the deepest bass grunts, alternately.

Loudness in singing is his great end and aim, and to effect sudden sforzando effects, he has a peculiar method, i. e.—the choruses of the songs are usually meaningless, being often a mere reiteration of the words e-e-e-yu (which may be called the African “fol de roi de ray”), and when, after shouting with full lungs on the e-e-e, the singer desires more power on the yu, he effects it by giving himself a sound thump in the ribs with his elbows; this produces a marked emphasis on the syllable, and the result, when two or three hundred singers do this simultaneously is startling. The Kaffir, contrary to our practise, sits down, when he sings.

One of their favorite songs, is used at husking festivals. “The dry heads of maize are thrown in a heap upon the hard and polished floor of the hut, and a number of Kaffirs sit in a circle round the heap, each being furnished with the ever useful knobkerry (a stick or club, very like a shillelagh, but with a knob at one end). One of them strikes up a song, and the others join in full chorus beating time with their clubs, upon the heads of the maize. This is a very exciting amusement for the performers, who shout the noisy chorus at the highest pitch of their lungs, and beat time by striking their knobkerries upon the grain. With every blow of the heavy club the maize grains are struck from their husks, and fly about the hut in all directions, threatening injury, if not absolute destruction to the eyes of all who are present in the hut. Yet the threshers seem to enjoy an immunity which seems to be restricted to themselves and blacksmiths; and while a stranger is anxiously shading his eyes from the shower of hard maize grains, the threshers themselves do not give a thought to the safety of their eyes, but sing at the top of their voices, pound away at the corn cobs, and make the grains fly in all directions, as if the chorus of the song were the chief object in life, and the preservation of their eyesight were unworthy of a thought.”[210]

The war-songs of the Kaffirs are fiery and exciting, though in a less degree than those of New Zealand.

Their poetry is full of metaphor, and alliterative enough to be admitted into the opera of the future. The participants sit in a circle, sometimes three or four deep, with their knees well drawn up, and sing, beating rhythmic accompaniment upon the ground, twirling their assagais (javelins), and occasionally enlivening the proceedings with an ear-piercing whistle, or deafening shout.

We give an English version (Mr. Shooter’s) of two of these, merely premising that much of the native beauty is said to be lost in the transposition to a foreign tongue.

PRAISE OF DINGAN.
A VERY CELEBRATED CHIEF.

The other is an Alexandrian lament of the lack of nations to conquer. It is in honor of Tchaka, (a renowned warrior and chief).

From the extracts it will be seen that flattery is not confined to European courts; the Kaffir carries it still further, for in addition to his own proper name (which it is deemed ill omened to speak) everybody of any rank, receives a number of isi-bonges or praise-names, alluding to some action or peculiarity. It is customary on all formal occasions, to recite several of these isi-bonges, just as a European nobleman on official ceremonies desires to have all his titles proclaimed. In songs, of course, the invention of these is unlimited. Thus the great Panda, a renowned ruler of enormous fatness, is spoken of as,—

Such songs of praise are sung with great relish by full choruses. Violent gestures are used to heighten the effect. The songs are in unison, no harmonic divisions being attempted.

The instruments of the Kaffir are few and crude; the whistle before mentioned, although giving but one tone, is a great favorite. It is so shrill that it can be heard above the wildest din of the ensemble.

A rude flute or flageolet is also sometimes used; but the most-used instrument, is a primitive harp with one string only, and whose tones though light and sweet can scarcely be heard at six yards distance. It is an ordinary bow with a string of twisted hair, and a hollow gourd attached at the centre of the wood to give resonance. A ring is passed along the string, to raise or lower the tone, which is produced by striking the cord with a short stick, or plectrum. The bow is about five feet long, and exactly resembles the usual weapon, which however is not used in war by the Kaffirs.

Although the resources of this instrument are so extremely limited, the musicians of this people are content to sit for hours, listening to its monotonous sound.

Let us now turn to the degraded black brother of the foregoing race, the Bushman. His amusements are two;—singing and dancing.

The dance of the Bushman is to European eyes a most uninteresting one; as there is scarcely any motion or gesture at all in it, save that which is made by one leg. Standing on one foot, the performer shakes the other, (to which a string of rattles, made from the ears of the spring-bok are attached) occasionally giving his body a twist, and singing vigorously all the while, changing the foot, however, from time to time.

The spectators keep the rhythm by a constant and regular clapping of hands and a monotonous singing.

A water-drum, which is merely a wooden bowl, into which a little water has been poured, and over which a skin is tightly drawn, is struck regularly in time with the movements of the dancer; the latter when partially exhausted, falls upon the floor, but still singing and kicking in time with the music; after a short rest of this description, he jumps up and continues as at first. When utterly exhausted, he retires among the spectators and unfastening his leg-rattles, hands them to the next dancer. The music to this odd performance is not in unison; the dancer sings one air, the spectators another, and the drum gives a species of “ground bass” to the whole.

While engaged in this interesting occupation of shaking one leg, the Bushman is completely oblivious of all other considerations, as if he were entranced. Discordant as the music seems to us when annotated by the travellers who have heard it, yet these same authorities are almost unanimous in declaring that the effect is extremely pleasant.

The most peculiar instrument of the Bushmen, is the goura, which is shaped like a bow, but has at one end of the string, a piece of quill inserted; this quill is blown upon in the same manner that we use a jew’s-harp. Women play upon this instrument, but hold it perpendicularly, and do not breathe upon it, but strike it with a stick, and then catch it up, quickly to their ear, to listen to the tones. When thus played, it is called, a joum-joum.

All the airs played upon this primitive instrument seem to come by chance rather than skill, and the performer never seems able to play the same tune twice. But the same or better music could be drawn from a much more compact and portable instrument; therefore the goura has now been almost superseded by a European competitor, and the favorite instrument of the African Bosjesman now is the Jew’s-harp.

They also possess a rude banjo-like instrument from which comparatively fair music could be produced, but the Bushmen are content to strum it without method, and take the music as fortune sends it. A drum completes the list of Bushman instruments; it is sometimes played with sticks and sometimes with the fist. It can be heard at a considerable distance.

In contrasting these two extremes of African races, it is singular to remark, that the superiority in music, if there be any, must be conceded to the lower race.

We find much that is curious and worthy of note in the music of those mysterious tribes of central Africa, who have so recently become known to us through the researches of Schweinfurth, Stanley, and Baker.

Among the best known of these tribes, may be mentioned the Nyam-Nyams, a set of most inveterate cannibals, whose very name comes from the sound of gnawing at food, and was given them on account of their man-eating propensities. Their chief musical instruments are mandolins or small harps of four strings each, drums (mostly of wood,) bells of iron, whistles and pipes. Many of these instruments are very symmetrically formed, and tastily carved, for in wood, iron, and clay designing the Nyam-Nyams are very expert. Schweinfurth thus describes their music,[212]—“They have an instinctive love of art. Music rejoices their very soul. The harmonies they elicit from their favorite instrument, the mandolin, seem almost to thrill through the chords of their inmost nature. The prolonged duration of some of their musical productions is very surprising.” Piaggia has remarked that he believed a “Nyam-Nyam would go on playing all day and all night, without thinking to leave off either to eat or to drink,” and although quite aware of the voracious propensities of the people, it seems very probable that he was right.

One favorite instrument there is, which is something between a harp and a mandolin. It resembles the former in the vertical arrangement of its strings, whilst in common with the mandolin, it has a sounding-board, a neck, and screws for tightening the strings.

The sounding board is constructed on strict acoustic principles. It has two apertures; it is carved out of wood, and on the upper side it is covered with a piece of skin; the strings are tightly stretched by means of pegs, and are sometimes made of fine threads of bast, and sometimes of the wiry hairs from the tail of the giraffe.

The music is very monotonous and it is difficult to distinguish any melody in it. It invariably is an accompaniment to a moaning kind of recitative which is rendered with a decided nasal intonation.

“I have not unfrequently seen friends marching about arm in arm, wrapt in the mutual enjoyment of the performance, and beating time to every note by nodding their heads.”

“There is a singular class of professional musicians who make their appearance decked out in the most fantastic way, with feathers, and covered with a promiscuous array of bits of wood and roots, and all the pretentious emblems of magical art, the feet of earth-pigs, the shell of tortoises, the beaks of eagles, the claws of birds, and teeth in every variety. Whenever one of this fraternity presents himself, he at once begins to recite all the details of his travels and experiences, in an emphatic recitative, and never forgets to conclude by an appeal to the liberality of his audience, and to remind them that he looks for a reward either of rings of copper, or of beads.”[213]

With some slight differences these men may be found throughout Africa; almost everywhere they are sought for and their talents enjoyed, but they themselves held in contempt. Among the Nyam-Nyams, their appellation in itself (“Nzangah”) implies contempt, being similar to that which is applied to despised and outcast women.

Contrary to the custom of almost all other savages, the Nyam-Nyams delight most in gentle music; some of the minstrels sing so softly that it is impossible to hear them a few yards off. The light Mandolin accompaniment is in good accord with this pianissimo style of music.

Their dances, given by male and female performers, are wonderfully swift, intricate and pleasant.