by Various
On the Road
Burdens grew and our strength was failing under the ill treatment at hotels, on railroads, poorly attended concerts, and ridicule; besides we were too thinly clad for the increasing cold of a northern climate. Moreover our teachers at school constantly wrote of their limitations and appealed to us to send them money. A less trusting, less brave heart than Mr. J. White’s had broken; yet, he pushed on, doing the advance work which later it required five men to do. Often he left us at railway stations while he and some other man of the troupe waded through sleet or snow or rain from hotel to hotel seeking shelter for us. Many a time our audiences in large halls were discouragingly slim, except for the bootblacks and their kith, who crowded in and often joined in the chorus of “John Brown,” with voices, feet and bootjacks. On such occasions Mr. White, after thanking those present for coming, explained our mission and appealed for help, saying, “If there are any of the Lord’s people present with any of His treasure, will you not help us pay our honest debts and railroad fare to our next appointment?” Always enough money came to do just that and no more, and we went day by day on prayer and faith.
The Name “Jubilee Singers”
Realizing that we must have a name, we held a prayer meeting at Columbus, Ohio. Our Fisk pastor, Reverend H. S. Bennett, was present. Next morning Mr. White met us with a glowing face. He had remained in prayer all night alone with God. “Children,” he said, “it shall be Jubilee Singers in memory of the Jewish year of Jubilee.” The dignity of the name appealed to us. At our usual family worship that morning there was great rejoicing.
Programs
At first our programs had been made up wholly of what we called the white man’s music. Occasionally two or three slave songs were sung at the close of the concert.
The following is a sample program sung at Mansfield, Ohio. November 29, 1871:
Holy Lord God of Sabaoth.
Friends, We Come with Hearts of Gladness.
There’s Moonlight on the Lake.
Irish Ballad. Patrick McCuishla.
Recitation. Sheridan’s Ride.
Gipsey Chorus.
Solo. The Loving Heart that Won Me.
Songs of Summer.
Temperance Medley.
Wine is a Mocker.
Hail America.
Merrily o’er the Calm Blue Sea.
Old Folks at Home.
Away to the Meadows.
Comin’ Through the Rye.
Roll, Jording [Jordan], Roll.
Turn Back Pharaoh’s Army.
Vocal Medley.
Home, Sweet Home.
But very soon our sufferings and the demand of the public changed this order. A program of nineteen numbers, only two or three of which were slave songs, was inverted. To recall and to learn of each other the slave songs demanded much mental labor, and to prepare them for public singing required much rehearsing. . . .
Our experiences repeated themselves from place to place on our journey toward New York. As the slave song says, “We were sometimes up and sometimes down, but still our souls kept heavenly bound.” Arriving in New York we found “no room in the inn” and three of our American Missionary Association secretaries, the Reverends Cravath, Smith, and Pike, took us to their home in Brooklyn, where we remained for six weeks.
Through the interest and co-operation of the leading ministers of New York, led by that noble man, Henry Ward Beecher, our cause was soon before the public and we were received with the wildest enthusiasm. Our concerts were crowded. In each city where we appeared, a perfect furore of excitement prevailed. Varied and favorable criticisms filled the dailies of our ability as musicians, of the wonderful spiritual effect of the slave songs, now called Jubilee songs. We visited many of the principal cities and towns of New York, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. We went into New England, and everywhere the experience was the same. Hotels refused us, and families of the highest social prestige received us into their homes. We sang in halls where Negroes had never been allowed upon the platform. . . .
Success followed us to Washington, D.C. The President turned aside from pressing duties to receive us at the White House. Parson Brownlow, Tennessee’s Senator, too ill to attend our concert, sent for us to visit him. He cried like a child as we sang our humble Southern slave melodies. Returning to New England we received a perfect ovation. Extra excursions were often run to our concerts. Our songs, which had been taken down by Professor Theodore F. Seward and published, were sold at our concerts during the intermission. Soon the land rang with our slave songs, sung in the homes of the people.
Our first campaign closed at Poughkeepsie. New York. We not only had paid the debts at home of nearly $1,500 and furnished other money for support of Fisk; but we carried home $20,000, with which was purchased the present site of twenty-five acres for our new school. At Louisville we were roughly turned out of the sitting-room at the railway station amid the jeers of about two thousand roughs, but the railroad superintendent put us in a first-class coach, in which we returned to Fisk amid great rejoicing.
Part II. At the World’s Peace Jubilee
Remaining at home only one week we again took the road. That we might meet the greater demands for concerts, and also visit smaller places where it would be too expensive to go with a full company, our number had been increased. We had been invited to sing at the second World’s Peace Jubilee in June. After a few concerts enroute, we stopped at Boston to rehearse and rest.
Mr. White had unusual taste and gifts. For weeks he trained our voices to sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic. He reasoned that the thousands of instruments to be used in the great building would very likely play it in E flat, the one key in which the various instruments could harmonize. Hence, in order to be heard satisfactorily by the vast audience, we must be able to enunciate with perfect accuracy of pitch and purity of tone every word and every part of a word in a key three half steps higher than usual. So, little by little, each day or two going a bit higher, using his violin, he trained us on those words from C to E flat until he was satisfied.
The day came when the Battle Hymn was to be sung. Two colored girls, sisters and beautiful singers, too, were to sing the first two verses, and we the last, “He hath sounded forth the trumpet.” Evidently the sisters had not anticipated the change of key, and to their chagrin they found themselves obliged greatly to strain their voices and unable to sing their parts satisfactorily. The conductor told us to sing on the choruses, but we preferred to hold all our force in reserve until the time came for us to sing, though trembling like spirited race horses in our excitement to begin. Then with apparently one voice, pure, clear and distinct, we sang out.
He hath sounded forth the trumpet.
Which shall never call retreat.
The audience of forty thousand people was electrified. Men and women arose in their wild cheering, waving and throwing up handkerchiefs and hats. The twenty thousand musicians and singers behind us did likewise. One German raised his violincello and thwacked its back with the bow, crying. “Bravo, bravo!” and Strauss, the great composer, waved his violin excitedly. It was a triumph not to be forgotten. For days we sang: the people seemed never to tire of listening.
Another Campaign
The summer was spent in rest and rehearsals at Acton, Mass., a very busy and successful campaign followed during the next three months. Our double (or two) companies were reorganized into one company of eleven singers. Again we battled with prejudice in the City of Brotherly Love. Only one hotel, The Continental, would receive us. At Princeton, New Jersey, the color line was drawn for the first and only time in our concerts, in that the colored people of the audience were obliged to sit by themselves. The singers would have refused to sing had it not been that so many of their friends had come a long distance to hear them.
Since a visit to England was planned for the early spring,
the closing weeks were used to giving farewell concerts. Most cordial and complimentary letters of introduction were given us by leading ministers and people of the highest rank and attainment in the United States to a similar class of citizens abroad, which happily brought [us] once before the choicest spirits among the religious, philanthropic and social classes. An evidence of civic and social prejudice was shown through the refusal of one after another of the ocean steamship lines to take us as cabin passengers. Finally, the Cunard Line received us on the good ship, “Batavia.” The kindness of the captain and crew we shall never forget.
The Singers in England
We had our first hearing in Great Britain [May 6, 1873] in [Willis] Rooms. Cards of invitation issued in the name of his Lordship, the Earl of Shaftsbury, and the committee of the Freedman’s Mission Aid Society were sent to the nobility, members of Parliament, leading clergymen of different denominations, editors and others of influence. The house was packed. We carried everything before us. Congratulations and invitations were abundant. One of those which we accepted was from the Duke and Duchess of Argyle to Argyle Lodge, their city home. The next day all the leading dailies had favorable criticisms. This introduction to the British public paved the way to countless invitations for concerts and social functions among Great Britain’s distinguished people. At Argyle Lodge we met many of the elite of society, with whom we conversed freely and pleasantly, often amusingly. Our many shades of brown and black got us mixed up at times and, too, their English accent was so different from ours that at first we could not easily understand each other.
To our great surprise and delight Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, drove over to meet us and we sang for her. She expressed pleasure and said we comforted her. The Ducess of Argyle presented each of us with a gift. Another social invitation which we accepted was to the Deanery at Westminster Abbey, from Dean and Lady Stanley. For three months we were kept busy filling engagements. At Mr. Samuel Gur[n]ey’s we were introduced to the great Quaker circle, who are known the world over for their friendship for the oppressed. George McDonald, the author, a relative of our Professor Spence, invited us to his annual garden party for London’s poor, held at his beautiful home on the Thames.
The most distinguished attentions we received were from England’s premier, Mr. Gladstone. Three times this great man invited us to his home, first to Carlton Terrace, his London home, to sing at a luncheon given to the Prince and Princess of Wales and her sister, the Czarina of Russia, members of the Diplomatic Corps, John Bright, the Bishop of Manchester (son of the great Wilberforce), Jenny Lind, and others. The second time, soon after the first, we went as their guests and were seated at a table among other guests as distinguished as those on the previous occasion and were royally entertained as guests. The third time we were invited to Mr. Gladstone’s home in North Wales. We spent the day in their lovely home, mingling freely with the family, enjoying and examining not only art treasures in the drawing-rooms, but especially his table of axes collected from all over the world in his study. He shows us his favorite ax. It is said that Mr. Gladstone felled a tree every morning before breakfast. At dinner the servants were dismissed and Mr. Gladstone explained to us that he and Mrs. Gladstone wanted the honor of serving us to show us how greatly we and our mission were esteemed. Later he sent a valuable collection of books in the library of Fisk University.
A [. . .] of visits to the many national societies, religious and secular [. . .] us actively before all the people. We met many dignitaries, among them the venerable Dr. Robert Moffatt fifty years a missionary to Africa, father-in-law of David Livingstone, also the daughter of Livingstone, the sweet “Nannie,” of whom he wrote so tenderly. Temperance societies adopted us throughout the kingdom because we did not use strong drink. We had it understood at social events that our glasses must be turned down. Churches which had never opened their doors for paid entertainments opened to us. Rev. Charles Spurgeon’s Tabernacle was one of many to welcome us.
Our whole journey to and through Scotland, Ireland and Wales was like that experienced in England. In Scotland our concerts in large cities very frequently were presided over by the Lord Provost. Indeed, Lord Shaftsbury’s letters preceded us everywhere and led even Edinburgh, Glasgow and other cities officially to invite us to visit them. Social invitations greeted us everywhere and abundant opportunities were given us to assist in the Christian efforts of uplifting the needy. Our concerts were successful, sometimes more than crowded. Some Sabbaths we sang at six services. In Edinburgh and Glasgow we sang at the 6 a.m. breakfast to thousands of the poor: at nine at the Sunday Schools: in the afternoons to working people: later to the outcasts, often in Guild Halls, where people stood shoulder to shoulder to hear God’s word: the women came at one hour and the men at another. We sang in the open air to thousands, in the hospitals, prisons, beside sick bed, everywhere. One invalid of forty years in Dundee, Scotland, had prayed for a year that the Lord would send us to sing just one song to him. Gifts for our school continued to come and sometimes we received personal gifts. At Paisley, Scotland, Sir Peter Coats (the thread manufacturer) presided at our concert, entertained us in his home, and invited us to his factory, where he gave each of us a shawl, a real “Paisley.”
Often we came across Messrs. Moody and Sankey and had the privilege of assisting them. Once we surprised them. We arrived late and had to go into the small fifth gallery. During a pause following an earnest appeal to sinners we softly sang,
“There are Angels hovering round
To carry the tidings home.”
The effect was wonderful and most impressive. Some people said they really thought for a moment that the music came from an angelic band. Mr. Moody looked as though he would not have been more surprised had his Lord appeared. He afterward spoke of it.
Our concerts often brought as much as $1,000 a night, and we were kept in a whirl of work and excitement. We daily had to turn away from worthy causes which appealed to us. The correspondence alone was very taxing upon our management, who were already falling in strength while attempting to keep up the routine of duties incident to the business side of the work. Miss Gilbert, our chaperon who mothered us for ten years, became very ill and had to rest. Mr. Pike, our business manager, broke down and others had to be laid off. Poor Mr. White, while on the verge of prostration, was suddenly called to Glasgow, where his family lived, to see his loved wife die of typhoid fever, leaving three little children in the care of her friend and companion, Dr. Addie Williams, who had gone with them from America. With so many of the management ill and absent, the singers, with volunteer help, carried on the work to the close of the season, ending our first campaign in Great Britain at the Exeter Hall, London, Lord Shaftsbury presiding. The doxology was sung by the entire audience and we bade farewell to our friends and soon sailed for America. The proceeds of the last concert were the largest received in Great Britain. The total receipts of this campaign were nearly $50,000.
Second Campaign Abroad
The year 1875 was noted for important events; Fisk received its first President, Rev. E. M. Cravath; completed its first decade; graduated its first college class, and entered Jubilee Hall, the historic building which will ever stand as a memorial, not only to the labors of George L. White and his Jubilee Singers, but also to those who remained at home and kept up the work for Christ’s neglected, needy race of children.
Larger and growing needs as the work developed required greater funds to insure permanency, so after the singers had rested a while, another campaign abroad was planned for them. A few concerts in the North brought to our notice the fact that many other companies had entered the field, each claiming to be the original company from Fisk University. Some of the them appropriated our testimonials and impersonated our singers, reaping unharvested fields, much to our loss. Much of their work was a discredit and disgrace to the good work which we had done only a few months before.
On May 15th our reorganized company o
f eleven members, with Mr. White and Miss Gilbert, our loved chaperon, again sailed for England. It was gratifying to find that more than one steamship line which had before refused us cabin passage, now offered it to us at reduced rates, but we turned to the Cunard steamship, “Algeria.” We were accompanied by Prof. Theodore F. Seward, our new director of music, and his family. President Cravath came later as business manager. May 31st found us at the annual meeting of the Freedmen’s Mission Aid Society held in City Temple, London. Our friends had heard that we would be there and packed both upper and lower halls, the corridors and streets so solidly that Lord Shaftsbury had difficulty in reaching the rostrum. His Lordship welcomed our return “in behalf of thousands and tens of thousands of British citizens, with joy.” Dr. Joseph Parker reiterated the same in an address which followed, and we received a most cordial ovation.
In less than an hour after our arrival a request came from D. L. Moody for us to help him in his service that afternoon at the Haymarket Opera House. The next day also we sat beside him and sang “Steal Away,” after a touching sermon to an audience representing the wealth and rank of London, some one said, “The effect could not have been happier had the song been written for the sermon or the sermon for the song.” It seemed our duty to turn aside from concerts to help win souls. We took summer quarters for the purpose of rest in East London, near Bow Road Hall, where Messrs. Moody and Sankey were laboring. We gave a month singing at the services daily to an audience of ten or twelve thousand souls. At the close of the meetings, we received the grateful thanks of our friends and Mr. Moody gave each of us a Baxter Bible containing his autograph. Thousands were converted during the meetings. One man who died soon after said that he went to hear the preaching, but the singing had saved his soul.
