Jubilee! Jubilee! We Are Free!: A History of the African American Spiritual Thomas Reid Dr. James S. Day The University of Montevallo In 1866, Fisk University opened as a co-ed liberal arts college in Nashville, Tennessee. Fisk allowed all people, regardless of ethnicity, to attend classes—an incredible show of egalitarianism for the period. Unfortunately, shortly after Fisk’s opening, the university faced financial straits. In response, the school’s treasurer and music professor, George L. White, created a nine-person choir with the intention of taking the group on a cross-country fundraising campaign. This choir, principally composed of former slaves, became known as The Fisk Singers.1 The Singers performed spirituals in a formal concert setting, breaking with musical tradition. Spirituals belonged to a bygone era of hot fields, endless work, and the immense burden of slavery. Alongside this history, slave songs frequently included irregular pronunciations and unique grammar elements that made the performance of spirituals difficult and unorthodox. With these factors in mind, many viewed spirituals as an unsophisticated genre, inappropriate for professional recitals. James Trotter, a black writer and critic, stated that spirituals, “notwithstanding their great beauty of melody, and occasional words of elevated religious character,” reflect, “a former life of enforced degradation.”2 Eventually, the simple, heartfelt, and painful melodies of slave music conquered the condemnation of their critics. By 1872, the small, black Southern choir performed at the World Peace Festival in Boston and at the White House for President Ulysses S. Grant. The following year, the Fisk Jubilee Singers toured Europe and expanded their members by two. Revenues gained from their international tour assisted in the creation of the Jubilee Hall which today has been designated a National Historic Landmark by the United States Department of the Interior.3 Despite their incredible success, the Fisk Singers met with outright racism. Often, hotels barred the ensemble from housing due to the group’s race. Likewise, concert locations prohibited their recitals, while restaurants regularly denied the group service.4 The constant barrage of bigotry left the group fatigued, which enjoined their director, George L. White, to rename the group “The Jubilee Singers” referencing the Year of Jubilee found in the Biblical book of Leviticus.5 The Year of Jubilee brought reprieve to those in bondage; slaves were set free, debts were absolved, and families were reunited.6 In spite of the prejudices of their time, the Fisk Jubilee Singers steadfastly showcased the songs of their heritage and, in the process, contributed a significant genre to the music world. Spirituals, though long spurned by the musical community, are now a staple of melodic investigation and professional practice. Choirs perform entire concert series dedicated to the simple and profound virtuosity of slave music. Church hymnals contain many spirituals within their pages. Moreover, these spirituals have become the standard for music played during the Christmas and Easter seasons. This fulfills the words of the popular twentieth century composer, Anton Dvorak, “The future of American music must be founded on what is called ‘Negro melodies.’ ”7 Slave spirituals exist as a singular style of American music whose existence can be traced back to Africa. An estimated ten million Africans endured the harshness of the Trans-Atlantic passage to reach the New World, not as free people, but as slaves. Africans became commodities; bought, sold, and transported according to the whim of their owners which frequently destroyed families and whole communities. Slaves emerged, transformed into “…hopeless victim[s]…cut off from family, from language, from one’s root.”8 Slaves, bereft of family and identity and burdened with the noxious weight of bondage, had little recourse for comfort and harmony.9 Weighed down, but not flattened, slaves resolutely forged an inimitable identity and community, developed around their shared African heritage. An aspect of this heritage, religion, played an integral role in slave life. Belief rebuilt the traditional aspects of African life in a new and oppressive land which allowed for refuge in a hostile environment. Blacks upheld many of their traditional beliefs while in the Americas. A supreme Creator deity formed the universe and governed all aspects of existence.10 Though directly involved with inception of the universe, the superlative god did not involve himself directly with affairs of man, remaining isolated from supplicants and worshippers.11 Direct intervention in the lives of individuals rested with a multitude of lesser gods and spirits who inhabited the elements of nature (water, air, fire, earth, trees, grass, etc.…) and in a variety of weather conditions. These beings controlled the elements which they possessed and, if not appeased, brought ruin to those who offended them. A second task given to these divinities concerned their relationship with the supreme deity and humanity. Demigods and spirits acted as intermediaries, bringing the prayers and sacrifices of supplicants to the creator god. Likewise, the bestowal of blessings and the fulfilment of prayers reaffirmed the position of these spirits and demigods.12 “Medicine” played an integral role in African religion and in the spirituality of slaves as well. Western understanding categorizes African belief in “medicine” as a form of witchcraft and magic.13 Though similarities between magic and “medicine” exist, this does not cover the entirety of the African belief. Witchcraft carries powerful connotations of evil, trickery, and midnight satanic tryst. Conjure or conjuring, supplementary names for “medicine” practiced by American slaves, has strong connections to Africa. The morality of conjure heavily depends on the use, the individual desiring an outcome, and the person performing the conjure. Slaves often applied conjure to their bondage, attempting to ease the pain of punishments or as protection from discipline. Frederick Douglass recounts his time on a plantation owned by a man famous for “breaking in” young and “spirited slaves.” While on the estate, Douglass encountered Sandy Jenkins, a practitioner of conjure. Jenkins stated that a certain root resided in a nearby field that, when carried on the right side of an individual, garnered protection from floggings. Douglass did not immediately believe in the conjurer’s declaration, but before his punishment followed Jenkins’s instructions. The master of the plantation acted uncharacteristically kind to Douglass, forgoing the typical discipline. Later, though, his owner’s temperament changed. Douglass asserted himself, brawling with his white proprietor, bloodying his opponent, and earning a distinct reprieve from future abuses.14 Two other core principles animated slave religion. The first of these beliefs stands in stark contrast to that of Western monotheistic religion—animism. All people, places, objects, and elements carried a soul, fashioned by the aloof architect god. Bowls, knives, cloth, rocks, gems, babies, birds, flies, all had a soul which energized their existence and bound the entire cosmos into a single unit. In this way, the division of the supernatural and natural, the divine and the secular—so prominent in Western philosophy—did not exist in African religion.15 This philosophical blending yielded an attitude that placed a heavy principle on community, responsibility, and respect. The second belief involves the execution of music. “So essential are music and dance to West African religious expression that it is no exaggeration to call them “dance religion.” Yoruban and Fon worshippers regularly entice their gods and spirits to “mount” an individual. These divinities are persuaded using certain rhythms and dances. Once mounted (possessed), the individual behaves in a manner indicative of the possessing deity or spirit. These same aspects are manifested in slave religions of the Caribbean of which Vodou (or Voodoo) stands out as a key example. Vodou comprises twenty-one nations or nacions, different religious practices that hold a common religious and cultural lineage. Haitian and New Orleans vodou are the most well-known of the twenty-one nations. Though all the tribes hold a common heritage, Haitian and New Orleans are especially close as Haitian slaves brought their practices to the shores of French Louisiana after American annexation.17 A multitude of gods and spirits (lwa) compose the pantheon of these two populations. However, differences exist in worship and ceremony. Papa Legba, honored as the lwa of the crossroads and the opener of gates, has been connected to many different colors; yellow and black for some families, while another holds yellow and green as Legba’s colors. St. John’s Eve remains a popular celebration for New Orleans worshippers, but not so for Haitian celebrants. The seminal aspect of these two nations resides in the relationship between the lwa and the worshipper—possession. Also known as “mounting,” possession occurs through the ceremonial enticing of a lwa or lwas. Once mounted, the overtaken individuals act, speak, sing, and dance in ways accorded to the presiding spirit and/or god. To ensure the appearance of the lwa and subsequent mounting of individuals, certain rhythms and dances must be performed. The tempo and dynamics of the accompanying beats can range from intensely energetic and rapid to a more subdued, but still