Orin Adolphus Parris: At Home Across the Shape-Note Music Spectrum

We often think of Sacred Harp and gospel music as opposites. Especially for singers from the 1991 Edition, the style can seem anathema; its relative exclusion a sign of the tunebook’s fidelity to the “old paths” invoked in its dedication. According to Raymond Hamrick, the first act of the book’s music committee was to “erect a sign [proclaiming] ‘No Gospel Music.’” Orin Adolphus (“O. A.”) Parris (1897–1966), a prolific composer who contributed songs to the 1936 and and 1960 editions of Original Sacred Harp (precursor to the 1991 Edition), 1954 and 1958 editions of The Christian Harmony, and dozens of gospel songbooks, saw things differently. For Parris, as for Hamrick, shape-note genres were distinct, arrayed along a spectrum with Sacred Harp on one side, gospel music on the other, and Christian Harmony somewhere in between. Yet Parris also believed that lyrical and musical styles from one shape-note genre could serve as great inspiration for a composition intended for another.

O. A. Parris as a young man. Parris served in the armed forces in New Jersey as a bugler during World War I. Photographs courtesy of Dawn Caldwell.

In a new essay in the journal American Music, “Genre Spanning in the Close and Dispersed Harmony Shape-Note Songs of Sidney Whitfield Denson and Orin Adolphus Parris,” I describe how Parris and Denson navigated this musical landscape.1 Here I summarize and expand upon my argument by focusing on Parris’s unique and masterful approach to crafting new tunes in these three shape-note styles.

Parris contributed five fuging tunes to The Sacred Harp: three to the 1936 edition of Original Sacred Harp: Denson Revision (“A Cross for Me,” “Eternal Praise,” and “The Better Land”; pp. 349, 377, and 454 in The Sacred Harp: 1991 Edition) and two more to the Original Sacred Harp’s 1960 Supplement (“A Few More Years,” since removed, and “My Brightest Days”; p. 546). These songs demonstrate both his keen understanding of the tunebook’s musical styles and his interest in adding flavors drawn from gospel music. “The Better Land,” for example, features an inventive variation on the standard fuging tune entrance pattern, and four strongly melodic parts that frequently cross each other, all markers of his awareness of the conventions of the Sacred Harp fuging tune genre. Yet “The Better Land” also contains gospel sounds, such as a moment near the song’s end where, as I note in American Music, “the alto part slides through the flatted seventh scale degree creating a diminished mediant chord (iiio), a sonority that would not be out of place in a gospel song yet which occurs nowhere else in The Sacred Harp.” I also describe in American Music how “gospel may have influenced Parris’s construction of the song’s fuging form. … Although in most fuging tunes the four parts come together for a short homophonic section before ending, “The Better Land,” like many gospel songs, remains relatively polyphonic until the last note.”2 Together, these features of the song suggest it was constructed vertically, with harmonic progressions in mind, as well as horizontally, with an eye toward melody, a fusion of aspects of “close” and “dispersed” harmony songwriting strategies. Even Parris’s minor Sacred Harp songs, such as his masterful “Eternal Praise,” show a keen awareness of each part’s melodic interest as well as the rhythmic counterpoint and harmonic progressions caused by the parts’ interaction, illuminating Parris’s indebtedness to conventions of both Sacred Harp and gospel music.

Hundreds of O. A. Parris’s compositions were published in annual paperback gospel songbooks such as the Tennessee Music and Printing Company’s 1934 Pearls of the Cross. Collection of the Author.

Parris channeled the bulk of his creative energies toward the gospel side of the shape-note genre spectrum, famously claiming that he wrote so little Sacred Harp music “because there’s no do(ugh) in it.” Many of the hundreds of songs he contributed to the annually published paperback “new books” used at gospel singing conventions both exemplify the diverse styles found in such songbooks, and evince echoes of some aspects of Sacred Harp music. For example, Parris’s gospel songs feature basslines that range energetically across an octave or more in combinations of arpeggio and stepwise motion to generate melodic interest far greater than that exhibited in a typical gospel song, perhaps a result of his enthusiasm for the melodic harmony parts common to dispersed harmony. Parris’s gospel songs also feature a heaping helping of the various rhythmic effects producing textual overlap employed in the gospel genre. Historical evidence suggests that such effects originated in the mixed-race close harmony traditions of the nineteenth century and were not an outgrowth of fuging tunes. Yet in Parris’s mid-twentieth-century musical world, in which fuging tunes and gospel responsorial effects existed side by side, the composer may have envisioned a connection between the two, inspiring his unusually extensive and creative applications of textual overlap in a variety of gospel songs, most of which unfortunately are now inaccessible in long out-of-print gospel songbooks.

Happily, The Christian Harmony contains several examples of this hybrid approach. In “The Grand Highway” and “Longing for the Day” (pp. 172 and 320 in The Christian Harmony: 2010 Edition, hereafter CH2010), virtuosic choruses begin with staggered part entrances typical of fuging tunes followed by call-and-response effects more common to gospel songs. These two songs as well as “Weary Rest” and “He’s Holding My Hand” (pp. 1 and 296 in CH2010), which hew more closely to the standard fuging tune form in The Christian Harmony, originated in gospel songbooks where they featured less part crossing, more chromatic harmony, and in some cases additional responsorial effects.3 That Parris adapted songs he published in gospel songbooks for The Christian Harmony illustrates his sense that hybrid compositions had a place in both sources. The changes he made demonstrate that he saw their stylistic ranges as distinct.

O. A. Parris’s “Longing for That Sweet Day,” composed for a gospel songbook, mixes close and dispersed harmony as well as fuging and gospel responsorial effects. In Pearls of the Cross (Cleveland, TN: Tennessee Music and Printing Company, 1934), no. 82. Collection of the author.

O. A. Parris revised “Longing for That Sweet Day,” removing some accidentals and call-and-response rhythmic flourishes associated with gospel. He included the resulting song, “Longing for the Day,” in his 1954 Christian Harmony: Book One (Birmingham, AL: Christian Harmony Publishing Company, 1954), no. 108. Collection of the Sacred Harp Museum.

Parris also seems to have felt that some gospel genres fit better in The Christian Harmony than others. Of the twenty-three songs he contributed to 1954 and 1958 editions of the tunebook, only “A Happy Meeting” (p. 182 in CH2010) approaches the complexity and pure gospel flavor of the two-page-long songs that typically occupy openings just past the midpoint of convention books. In addition to the gospel fuges mentioned above, and more conservatively written fuging tunes with less overt gospel influence, Parris contributed several adaptations of simpler gospel songs that occupied a secondary position in gospel songbooks, the three or four braces left over on the right side of a page opening, following a longer and more virtuosic composition. Examples in The Christian Harmony include “The Heavenly Throng,” “A Good Time Coming,” “Sunrise,” and “The Weary Soldier” (pp. 43, 149, 168b, and 305 in CH2010). Parris seems to have felt that this shorter and less elaborate gospel genre fit more easily along the varied nineteenth-century genres in The Christian Harmony.

Mae Lewis Parris and O. A. Parris, ca. 1925. Photograph courtesy of Dawn Caldwell.

From his gospel show-stoppers to his minor fuging tunes, Parris’s music evinces a great ear for melody, expressed not only in his tenor lines but in all the parts. Favorite harmony parts of mine are the bass in “Eternal Praise” and the treble to “A Happy Meeting.” Parris’s harmony parts also elegantly interact with each other both rhythmically and melodically, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together.

Like many of his mid-twentieth-century contemporaries—a group that included several Densons, Kitchenses, McGraws, and Woodards—Parris applied his creativity across the shape-note music spectrum. As I note in American Music, genre-spanning composers were especially prominent in the northern Alabama area “stretching roughly from Birmingham north to Cullman and west to Jasper.”4 But among this group, Parris seemed perhaps the most at home in the widest range of genres, capable in songs like “The Better Land” and “The Grand Highway” of mixing and matching elements from different styles while creating music that feels just right in its intended source.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to the Christian Harmony Music Company for permission to include “Longing for the Day” as an illustration to accompany this essay, and to the descendants of O. A. Parris for permission to include “Longing for that Sweet Day,” its gospel precursor. Thanks to Dawn Caldwell for sharing photographs of her grandfather.

  1. Jesse P. Karlsberg, “Genre Spanning in the Close and Dispersed Harmony Shape-Note Songs of Sidney Whitfield Denson and Orin Adolphus Parris,” American Music 35, no. 1 (Spring 2017): 94–132. []
  2. Ibid., 110 []
  3. Parris published an earlier version of “The Grand Highway” as “Don’t Turn from the Grand Highway” in O. A. Parris, ed., Music Waves No. 2 (Jasper, AL: O. A. Parris, Gospel Song Publisher, 1946), 88. Versions of “Longing for the Day” and “Weary Rest” appear as “Longing for That Sweet Day” and “Then I’ll Be Satisfied,” respectively, in Otis L. McCoy, ed., Pearls of the Cross (Cleveland, TN: Tennessee Music and Printing Company, 1934), 34, 82. []
  4. Karlsberg, “Genre Spanning,” 95. []
Posted in Read the Old Paths | 3 Comments

Tubby Walton, “An Indispensable Head Waiter” at the 1935 United Convention

The minutes of the 1935 United Sacred Harp Musical Association record that Walton’s Home Cooked Meals catered dinner. Courtesy of the Sacred Harp Museum.

A note in the minutes of the 1935 United Sacred Harp Musical Association suggests that the hardships of holding an urban Sacred Harp convention were as real eighty years ago as they are today. Singers today may be surprised to realize that a singing might rely on catered food even during the Depression. T. B. McGraw, the president of the 1935 United Convention, expressed his thanks to the folks at Walton’s Home Cooked Meals of Atlanta:

Last, but first, I recommend to all of you for a unanimous vote of thanks, the Walton family, who “cooked” their way into our hearts. We want them to know that we deeply appreciate the valuable services which they rendered. “Tubby” was an indispensable head waiter, tossing his priceless puns to each and every one of the guests. The meals were very appetizing, and enjoyed by all.

As McGraw’s note suggests, “Tubby” Walton was quite a character. William Hewlette Walton was a local celebrity in Atlanta, known for a personality as expansive as his person. The only people who cared about his given name, he claimed, were “the revenue man and a traffic cop.” To everyone else, he was just Tubby, a name he had more than earned; as one acquaintance put it, “Once upon the days of Herbert Hoover’s poverty-stricken regime, there wasn’t a towel made that would have spanned the breadth of William Hewlette Walton. In contrast to the economy of the times, he was as big as a side of beef.”1 Tubby Walton sold insurance, played catcher for the Atlanta Crackers, and scouted for the Saint Louis Cardinals. He and his father operated a restaurant near what is now the I-20/I-85 interchange—he was presumably connected to the United Convention by his sister, who had married Ted Knight, a prominent Atlanta Sacred Harp singer and longtime secretary of the convention.

Walton’s Home Cooked Meals was located at 193 Whitehall Street SE, near Atlanta’s then-booming downtown. This detail from a 1919 map of the city by Foote and Davies, then also printer of J. S. James’s Original Sacred Harp, show’s the catering company’s approximate location. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, 75693190.

Tubby was revered for his profuse “country” wisdom, much of which, unsurprisingly, revolved around food. City life hadn’t dulled Tubby’s affection for the country cooking he grew up with near the town of Corinth (about halfway between Newnan and LaGrange). His favorite dish was chitlins: “I could eat one as long as from Atlanta to Griffin, with plenty of detours. I kid you not, Cousin, chitlins is good eating and if you ain’t ever tried them you don’t know what you’re missing. They can have their paddy far de graw and their quail on toast but Tubby’ll take his chitlins every time.”2 Regrettably, the minutes fail to reveal what was on the menu at the United Convention when Tubby cooked.

Although Tubby’s in-laws were noted Sacred Harp singers, he didn’t start out as much of a singer himself. Of his Sunday School days, he wrote, “They’d be singing ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’ and they’d be rounding third while Tubby was still chugging along toward first base.” Eventually, a friend somewhat indelicately pointed out this musical deficiency; as Tubby noted, “Anytime they don’t want you to sing at Sunday School, look here beloved, you need HELP.”3 But Tubby was determined to improve, so he sought out music lessons, and eventually even recorded a couple of gospel albums late in life.

Tubby Walton (left), depicted in the July 21, 1929, issue of the Atlanta Constitution (C3) under the headline “‘Tubby’ Walton Buys a Buick,” with the Walton’s Home Cooked Meals storefront visible in the background. Evidently, even the fact that this colorful character had “been a Buick enthusiast for many years” was newsworthy! Courtesy of Emory University. Thanks to Adam P. Newman.

Tubby Walton was such a colorful figure that he was constantly attracting the attention of the Atlanta press. The status of Tubby’s heft, in fact, was apparently a point of considerable local interest. In an article titled “Seer of Luckie Street Declares a ‘Holiday’: Tubby Walton Avoids ‘Them Fats,’” Jack Troy of the Atlanta Constitution reported that Tubby “has declared a moratorium on potatoes and is endeavoring to regain that nymph-like figure of the ‘good old days.’ … If you are not acquainted with the Walton appetite,” he continued, “you can’t realize what stern resolve and steely courage it takes for Tubby to waltz around among the potatoes and the meats and other savory dishes at his eating establishment without plunging whole-heartily into the entire lot.”4

Eventually, Tubby got out of the restaurant business. A friend recalled that “when he found he was giving away more meals at the back door than he was selling up front, he closed the kitchen and quit.”5 Tubby Walton’s name doesn’t appear in any other minutes that I’ve come across, so it seems that he didn’t catch the bug for Sacred Harp. And it’s too bad! Unlike the Corinth Sunday School, we know enough not to run off a singer who’s that generous a person and that good of a cook, no matter what their voice sounds like.

  1. Furman Bisher, The Furman Bisher Collection (Dallas, TX: Taylor Publishing Co., 1989), 43. []
  2. James Quillian Maxwell, The Life Story of Cousin Tubby Walton (Atlanta: Stein Printing Company, 1968), 1–2. []
  3. Ibid., 126. []
  4. Atlanta Constitution, March 8, 1933, 9. []
  5. Bisher, Collection, 43. []
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I Remember: Ruth Denson Edwards on Her Sacred Harp Childhood

Editor’s Note: In this essay, “Queen of The Sacred Harp,” Ruth Denson Edwards shares memories of her musical childhood home. Just about every day somewhere in the world Sacred Harp singers find joy and spiritual fulfillment singing songs written by the Denson family members who gathered around a big log fire to sing in The Sacred Harp at night. Edwards describes how these gatherings formed the apex of a rich musical environment that also included folk songs, string music, and quartet singing. Oh, to have heard T. J., Amanda, S. M., and Sidney Denson, all outstanding singers and composers, singing “Call John,” the confounding and humorous song that appeared for a time in the rudiments of Original Sacred Harp! In her reminiscence, Edwards also describes the effort of hosting an annual singing and the texture of a life without radio, television, or much in the way of reading material.

Ruth Denson Edwards’s reflection was first published in the February 1965 issue of the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News, vol. 1, no. 8, where its editor Priestley Miller, wrote:

We thank Mrs. Edwards for her “I Remember” in this issue. It will bring vicarious nostalgia to most of us as we envisage those wonderful times the Denson family had in the memorable occasions in their home. Mrs. Edwards carries on a tremendous amount of Sacred Harp work, and is an unquestioned authority in the field.

Thanks to Tim Reynolds, current editor of the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News, for permission to include “I Remember” in this issue of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter.

Ruth Denson Edwards.
Collection of the Sacred Harp Museum.

No person has more pleasant childhood memories than I, for no one ever had a happier childhood.

My parents, the late Thomas J. Denson and the late Amanda Burdette Denson, owned a farm in Winston County, near Helicon, Alabama, and there they reared their family.

At that time our family consisted of my older brother, Paine, my foster brother, Pansy Mitchell (who was the orphan son of my mother’s sister), my older sisters, Annie and Maggie, my younger brother, Howard, and me.

I like to remember the family, sitting in a semi-circle before a big log fire at night, singing in the Sacred Harp. Pansy sang bass; mother, alto; Paine and Annie treble; Dad, Maggie, Edward, and I sang tenor.

During the singing hour, Paine popped corn and at recess we would enjoy buttered salted popcorn.

Some nights, Dad would lead off on folk songs, and the family group would join in and harmonize. (I am sure that I did not help very much, but I was “there” and I “sang.”) Some of the folk songs were: “I’m Going from the Cotton Fields,” “There’s One More River to Cross,” “Oh, Sister Mary, Lean on the Lord’s Side,” “Hump-Backed Male,” “Noah’s Ark,” and others.

On other nights, when Uncle Seab and Aunt Sidney were visiting us, we would have a concert of string music. Uncle Seab would play the fiddle; Dad would beat the straws and sing; Paine and Maggie would pick their banjos; Annie would pluck her harp; Pansy blew his harmonica; and mother, Aunt Sidney, Howard, and I sang.

Uncle Seab and Aunt Sidney’s visits were rays of sunshine in my life. They and my parents had such good times singing quartets: “Kay-Did,” “Rain on the Roof,” “The Laughing Chorus,” “Tis Better to Whistle than Whine,” “Call John,” and others. Radio and television made their advent about fifty years too late. They really missed a treat.

One of my most vivid memories is of the Fourth of July singing at Liberty Church [in Helicon]. How busy everybody was! Dad would hire an extra cook, or two, to help with the preparations. They cooked all day on July 3—cakes, pies, roast beef, chicken dressing, dumplings, fried chicken, and every good food imaginable. (My birthday comes on the 3rd day of July and Mag’s comes on July 4. She would taunt me by saying, “Oh yes, they cook the good food on your birthday and eat it on mine.” That made me very unhappy for it was true.)

Soon after lunch, on July 3, visiting singers began to arrive at our house. They came and came, and my parents gave all a hearty welcome. One night, forty people spent the night with us.

On the morrow, we all went to the singing. The Thomas J. Denson children sat in the class and sang all day. That was his iron-clad rule. At recess, everyone enjoyed pink lemonade, and at noon, we all feasted on the delicious food that the ladies had prepared.

Ruth Denson Edwards with her nephew and neice at the monument to The Sacred Harp at the Winston County Courthouse in a photograph captioned, “Aunt Ruthy Jimmy and Amanda in Double Springs, July 1968.”
Collection of the Sacred Harp Museum.

(I could name many more events that are outstanding in my memory, but space will not permit.)

At the time that I am describing, there were no recreation centers, no radios, televisions, picture shows, etc. as we have today. There were few books available. The Atlanta Constitution (a weekly) was our only newspaper and we received a few monthly magazines.

Therefore, our wise parents provided a musical environment for us children—“A home where music was the theme.”

Our group participation strengthened the family ties, supplied our wants and needs, and enabled us to live rich, full, and happy lives.

I am proud of my musical heritage and am glad to say that Sacred Harp music has always been my joy and inspiration and my love for it increases as the years pass.

I am truly thankful for my wealth of happy childhood memories.

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From the Collection: An Earlier Sacred Harp

The Sacred Harp that we sing from today was not the first book by that name. In fact, it was not even the first oblong shape-note tunebook with that title. A decade before B. F. White published the first edition of The Sacred Harp, brothers Lowell and Timothy Mason published their own Sacred Harp in Cincinnati. The Sacred Harp Museum is fortunate to have an exceptionally well-preserved copy of the 1835 edition of Timothy and Lowell Mason’s Sacred Harp thanks to the generosity of P. Dan Brittain. Originally from Boston, the Mason family is hardly associated with the promotion of shape-note (or “patent note”) notation—indeed, Lowell Mason would become a famously successful antagonist of shape-notes, which he derided as an obstacle to “scientific” music education.

Cover page.

So how did the Mason brothers come to publish a shape-note tunebook? Shape-notes were flourishing in the Ohio Valley in the 1830s, and the music publishers recognized that a shape-note version of the hymnal would boost its commercial prospects. The Masons were clear that their use of shape-notes was in no way intended as an endorsement, however: the preface acknowledges that “the Sacred Harp is printed in patent notes (contrary to the wishes of the Authors) under the belief that it will prove much more acceptable to a majority of singers in the West and South.”

If the notation style of both Sacred Harps is the same, the contents are dramatically different. While B. F. White’s Sacred Harp largely followed its shape-note predecessors in reprinting a broad range of early American singing-school repertoire, southern vernacular hymnody, and new compositions based on those styles, the Masons’ Sacred Harp features music by European composers and new compositions based on a European aesthetic, many by Lowell Mason himself. In fact, the Masons intended their volume to supplant the American hymnody then popular in the region—the “patent notes” would be but a minor concession if the tunebook could succeed in pushing local musical taste toward the style that the Masons favored. As the preface elaborates,

The Sacred Harp was undertaken at the request of many highly respectable individuals, who have long felt the importance of the introduction of an elevated style of Sacred Music arranged on the immovable basis of science and correct taste. … It is now given to the public with the hope that it will meet the wishes of those who have for a long time felt the need of a collection of scientific music adapted to the improved and improving taste and judgement of the western community.

In the few examples of eighteenth-century American music they included, Lowell and Timothy Mason altered the harmonies to better conform to the European style they favored, eliminating parallel fifths and open chords.1

Compare Mason’s rearrangement of Daniel Read’s “Windham” (top) with White’s version (bottom), which closely follows Read’s original. Mason changed the tune to triple time, eliminating the treble/bass solos; he also substantially altered the harmony, particularly in the treble part, which fills in a number of open chords, including the final chord—a harmonic feature in minor music entirely absent from B. F. White and E. J. King’s The Sacred Harp as well as its descendent, The Sacred Harp, 1991 Edition.

Furthermore, Lowell Mason seems to have purposefully given many of his tunes the same names as earlier compositions by American composers—hoping, apparently, that his new, European-style hymns would supplant the old-style music whose names they appropriated.

“Northfield,” by Lowell Mason; no relation to Jeremiah Ingalls’ 1800 tune by the same name, one of the most popular early American fuging tunes.

B. F. White’s Sacred Harp followed a markedly different musical model. The year after the Mason’s tunebook entered circulation, White’s brother in law, William Walker, published The Southern Harmony, perhaps the single-most popular repository of southern vernacular music. White’s Sacred Harp would follow in the spirit of The Southern Harmony, but it is important to note that he was not categorically opposed to the work of Lowell Mason or the European composers Mason emulated. Indeed, White included music in this style—and even tunes by Mason himself—in the early editions of his Sacred Harp. Nonetheless, the musical style that the Masons’ Sacred Harp promoted was only a minor element in White’s book, especially in the first edition, where Warren Steel counts just three tunes as representing the “contemporary reform style,” with only one by Lowell Mason.2 Furthermore, White and his associates changed the harmonies in several “reform style” tunes, tweaking them to better fit the sonic vocabulary of southern vernacular music.3

Note how the rearrangement of Mason’s “Hebron” in White’s Sacred Harp dramatically reinvents Mason’s relatively-static treble part as a melodic line in the dispersed harmony idiom.

Given the dramatic differences between the two Sacred Harps, why did White select the same name for his tunebook just a decade after the Mason brothers? It’s impossible to say. It may have been a simple coincidence, since nineteenth-century tunebooks were often named after instruments and the phrase “sacred harp” was surprisingly common in book titles and in poetry at the time. In fact, J. H. Hickok had published a four-shape tunebook titled The Sacred Harp in Lewiston, PA, just two years before the Masons published their Sacred Harp. In the introduction to his Union Harp and History of Songs, 1909, J. S. James noted that early twentieth-century singers “would like to know something about the origin of the naming of books in connection with the word ‘Harp.’” He was able to compile a list of forty-nine different songbooks with “harp” in their titles.4

Or, perhaps B. F. White’s use of the title was not a coincidence at all. Could White have appropriated Mason’s title in much the same way that Mason repurposed the tune-names of early American compositions, creating an entirely new and radically different volume with the intent of supplanting its namesake’s influence? However coincidental, it is remarkable that a shape-note tunebook published with the intent to drive shape-note music from the south and west would share its name with the tunebook most associated with the survival of the form. In any case, by the mid twentieth-century, singers had arrived at a creative interpretation of the tunebook’s name that gets to the heart of our experience of the music whether or not it has any historical basis: the “Sacred Harp” is the human voice, the only God-given instrument.


A digitized version of the same edition of Lowell and Timothy Mason’s Sacred Harp that P. Dan Brittain donated to the Sacred Harp Museum is available at the Internet Archive. For further reading, see James Scholten, “Lowell Mason and his Shape-note Tunebook in the Ohio Valley: The Sacred Harp, 1834–1850,” in Contributions to Music Education 15 (Fall, 1988), 47–52; John Bealle, “Timothy Mason in Cincinnati: Music Reform on the Urban Frontier,” in Public Worship, Private Faith (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1997), chap. 1; Warren Steel, The Makers of the Sacred Harp (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2010), 9, 49–51, 134–35.

  1. James Scholten, “Lowell Mason and His Shape-Note Tunebook in the Ohio Valley: The Sacred Harp, 1834–1850,” Contributions to Music Education, no. 15 (1988): 48. []
  2. David Warren Steel with Richard H. Hulan, The Makers of the Sacred Harp (University of Illinois Press, 2010), 9. []
  3. Ibid., 50. []
  4. J. S. James, Union Harp and History of Songs (Douglasville, GA, 1909), vi–vii. []
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Preserving Sacred Harp’s Past for the Future:
Interning at the Sacred Harp Museum

Editors’ Note: The Sacred Harp Museum made great strides this summer in cataloging, archiving, preserving, and digitizing our collection thanks to Sasha Hsuczyk’s service piloting our new internship program. Below Sasha shares her experience living and working at the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Headquarters during her stay.

The Publishing Company looks forward to hosting our 2017 interns, Nancy Novotny and Andy Ditlzer, to build on this foundation. Please visit our internship page to learn more about the program. Our internship program is possible thanks to generous donations from members of the Sacred Harp community. We welcome your support.

Sasha with Hugh McGraw at the museum’s entrance. Photograph by Jesse P. Karlsberg.

During the summer of 2016 I had the opportunity to spend a month working in the Sacred Harp Museum in Carrollton, Georgia, as the first resident intern in the Museum’s new internship program. I felt “like a kid in a candy shop” as I spent a blissful month learning, researching, connecting with people, and singing. I was peering into the Sacred Harp’s history as I dug through a treasure trove of artifacts, while simultaneously experiencing it as a contemporary tradition by attending singings and sharing fellowship with singers.

Hugh McGraw’s old license plate, part of the Museum’s varied collection.

Understanding the origins of cultural traditions has always been of interest to me. I began singing from The Sacred Harp in the fall of 2010. As my enthusiasm for Sacred Harp singing grew, so did my curiosity about its history and the people who have kept the tradition going. This curiosity eventually led me to Camp Fasola in Alabama, and then on many subsequent singing trips down South. I started to try to think of ways to spend some length of quality time in the South to attend singings and further my understanding of the tradition and its people, so I was delighted when the opportunity arose to work at the Sacred Harp Museum as the first participant in a pilot internship program.

The Sacred Harp Publishing Company Headquarters stands on land donated by the Denney family.

The Museum is located in the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Headquarters, on land donated by the Denney family, who have sung in West Georgia for many generations. During my time there, locals Philip and Gail Denney made me feel very welcome by kindly attending to my comfort in the museum, visiting frequently, and even inviting me for homemade meals.  Philip took me down the road from the Museum to see historic Emmaus Primitive Baptist Church, where his family has worshiped and sung for over a century, and where Sacred Harp singings are still held. I was delighted to learn from Philip that A. J. McLendon, the composer of one of my favorite songs, “Sister’s Farewell” (p. 55 in The Sacred Harp), was once the clerk at Emmaus, and that some members of the McLendon family are buried there.

Old copies of The Sacred Harp and traditional fans inside a cabinet at Emmaus.

I would often begin my days at the Museum sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair, gazing out on the field across the road, crossing things off of a work list and adding new things to the bottom. The sun was strong and the days hot, save for a few with much-needed rainfall that Philip explained was a blessing during a particularly dry summer. I found the museum’s peaceful and quiet setting in a rural area outside of the city of Carrollton particularly conducive to productive work.

Because the Museum is filled with such an amazing variety of material, it was a task just to decide where to start with it all. I worked with the museum’s curator, Nathan Rees, and director of research, Jesse P. Karlsberg, to formulate a plan for my internship; we agreed that the highest priority was to begin the process of cataloging and digitizing the collection while ensuring that materials are cared for with proper archival methods.

The museum’s collection includes video and audio recordings of singings, original copies of historic shape note tune books, photographs of singers and singings, letters to and from a variety of significant singers, music manuscripts, copies of The Sacred Harp that belonged to notable singers who have passed, and other singing-related ephemera. Many objects have a unique connection to specific singers, since much of the collection was donated by singers and their relatives. One significant part of the collection is a set of scrapbooks put together by life-long singer and dedicated Sacred Harp community member, Charlene Wallace. She filled a number of large books with carefully cut-out newspaper clippings and fliers from past singings. Charlene, who has been the driving force behind the museum since its inception, came for a visit and an interview early on during my stay and shared many singing stories, always with a sense of humor.

Charlene Wallace outside the museum.

Charlene Wallace donated her grandfather’s copy of Benjamin Lloyd’s Primitive Hymns to the museum.

Another visitor who came for an interview was Hugh McGraw, who led the Sacred Harp Publishing Company for a generation and oversaw the Museum’s creation. He gave me a tour of the headquarters building and recounted many amusing tales with his well-known endearing charm.

Hugh McGraw at the Museum.

One of my personal Sacred Harp-related interests is listening to field recordings of old singings, and so I was naturally drawn to a chest of drawers that contained an abundance of cassette tapes. Of all the tapes I went through, the most compelling to me was a recording of two small-group home singings from 1966 and 1969. The tape was accompanied by a hand-written list of the singers present for the recording, but not much other information. Based on some of these names I ventured it was recorded somewhere in West Alabama, and was eager to know more about who the singers on the list were.  Some months later, I attended a night singing in Huntsville, AL, where I met Lomax Ballinger, who grew up singing in West Alabama.  He was able to identify all of the singers on the list, many of whom were direct relatives of his.   It is exciting to be able to share such a special recording—and a great example of the important resources that we’re able to preserve and make accessible at the Sacred Harp Museum.

“Morning Prayer” (p. 411), recorded at the home of Elmer Conwill, September 23, 1966. Listen to the entire recording.

Ultimately, my work culminated in the implementation of a cataloging system that will help visitors navigate the collection; nine manuscript collections of items from the museum organized by topic; the beginning of a digital audio archive of the museum’s cassette tapes; and a collection of digital files that includes letters, accounts of Sacred Harp history, photographs, and musical compositions. I hope that this work can pave the way for future interns at the museum and eventually lead to a complete and thorough catalog of the museum’s collection.

Tapes from the museum’s collection in line to be digitized.

One of the best parts of being based in Carrollton for a month was the chance to attend singings every weekend. At every singing I went to, I was greeted with kind faces and welcoming words. One instance of kindness that particularly stuck with me was when B. M. Smith saw my well-worn Sacred Harp finally give in and fall to pieces in the middle of the square while I was leading at the Mt. Zion Memorial Singing, and at the next break he gave me a new copy. With his recent passing, the book he gave me bears so much more meaning. As the older generation of singers passes on, I feel more and more compelled to continue to connect with them and hear their stories, and to continue to sing and carry on the tradition with respect for its origins.  I hope that the work I was able to do can be a catalyst for further development of the museum as a resource for Sacred Harp singers everywhere so that the Sacred Harp Museum can continue to preserve Sacred Harp’s past as a valuable resource for the singers of Sacred Harp’s future.

Acknowledgments

For their support during my time at the museum, I would like to thank Jesse P. Karlsberg, Karen Rogers Rollins, Philip Denney, Gail Denney, Nathan Rees, Lauren Bock, Charlene Wallace, John Plunkett, Hugh McGraw, Alex Forsyth, Pitts Theology Library’s cataloging and archival team (Denise Hanusek, Armin Siedlecki, and Brandon Wason), Justin Bowen, Faith Riley, Henry Johnson, and Kathy Holland Williams.

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Introducing “Raymond Cooper Hamrick on The Sacred Harp,” Vol. 5, No. 2 of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter

The eleventh issue of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter features esteemed Sacred Harp singer, composer, and scholar Raymond C. Hamrick (1915–2014), a recipient of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company’s posthumous citation. The issue includes insightful essays by Hamrick himself, a video interview, and commentary on his many contributions to the Sacred Harp world.

Printable version of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter, Vol. 5, No. 2 (9.7 MB PDF).

Our issue opens with South Georgia singer Mary Brownlee’s tribute to Hamrick, which eloquently evokes Hamrick’s courtly personality and significance to the South Georgia singing community. Jesse P. Karlsberg next offers an in-depth survey of Hamrick’s long life and wide-ranging involvement in Sacred Harp singing. The issue next turns to Hamrick’s own writing, sharing groundbreaking essays by the singer on Sacred Harp’s history and practices, some never before published. We begin with Hamrick’s two 1965 contributions to the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News: a report on growing appreciation of the work of composer William Billings and an evocative survey of role of shape-notes in American music history. The issue then turns to Hamrick’s previously unpublished 1972 study of tempo in The Sacred Harp, the first comprehensive examination of the subject. Hamrick’s 1986 contributions to the National Sacred Harp Newsletter follow. The singer’s celebrated study of the methods and results of pitchers at Sacred Harp singings appeared in vol. 2, no. 2 of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter with an introduction by Ian Quinn. We include it in the print edition of this issue. We also reprint Hamrick’s convincing articulation of the value of shape-notes for composers. We next feature Hamrick’s 1996 return to the music of his favorite composer, William Billings, with an essay published in a special issue of the peer-reviewed music education journal, The Quarterly Journal of Music Teaching and Learning. This section of the Newsletter concludes with two additional previously unpublished contributions: an essay Hamrick wrote in the mid-1990s, offering a thorough insider’s account of the process of revising The Sacred Harp, and Alan Lomax’s brief 1982 interview with Hamrick, in which the Sacred Harp singer seems to surprise the veteran folklorist with his informed analysis of Sacred Harp practices. Our issue concludes with two more essays on Hamrick’s contributions to Sacred Harp singing. John Hollingsworth describes the story of editing and publishing The Georgian Harmony, a tunebook featuring nearly two-hundred of Hamrick’s shape-note tunes. Finally, Shaun Jex recounts Hamrick’s longstanding generosity in sharing his knowledge and experience with others.

This issue of the Newsletter came together thanks to an especially large team of volunteers and the generosity of several editors and archivists. In addition to the many contributions of the Newsletter team of associate editor Nathan K. Rees and layout helpers Elaena Gardner, Leigh Cooper, and Jason Stanford, two singers—Marie Brandis of Portland, Oregon, and Justin Bowen of Nashville, Tennessee—transcribed essays written by Hamrick. Debra Madera and M. Patrick Graham of the Pitts Theology Library of Emory University, provided access to and scans of essays by Hamrick, correspondence, and tunebooks in the library’s Raymond Hamrick Papers. Nathan K. Rees also assisted in gathering and digitizing materials in the collection of the Sacred Harp Museum. Robert A. W. Dunn digitized copies of recordings testing submissions to the 1991 Edition in a private collection. Richard Colwell, founding editor of the Quarterly Journal of Music Teaching and Learning, Mary Leglar, past editor of Georgia Music News, and Timothy Reynolds, editor of the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News graciously permitted the reprinting of essays first published in these periodicals. Finally, Raymond C. Hamrick’s daughter Patti Hamrick Dancy combed her collection of family photographs and digitized many of the images of Hamrick with family and at singings that grace this issue’s essays. Thanks to her and to Susan Hamrick Hatfield for permission to enrich this tribute to their father through the inclusion of these photographs.

As always, the Newsletter team welcomes your comments on these articles and invites your suggestions of future article topics. Please get in touch.

Vol. 5, No. 2 Contents

Newsletter Team

  • Editor, Jesse P. Karlsberg
  • Associate Editor, Nathan K. Rees
  • Design (web edition): Leigh Cooper
  • Design (print edition): Elaena Gardner
  • Transcription assistance: Marie Brandis and Justin Bowen
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Raymond Cooper Hamrick, a Tribute

Mary Brownlee, Rosemund Watson, and Martha Harrell leading at Hamrick’s 99th birthday singing, Roberta, Georgia, June 14, 2014. Photograph by Aldo Ceresa.

Editor’s Note: Raymond Hamrick taught Mary Brownlee and her sisters Rosemund Watson and Martha Harrell to sing, and for many decades Hamrick joined Brownlee and Watson to practice shape-note songs old and new at Brownlee’s home in Barnesville. Brownlee read this tribute to Hamrick at the 2015 Emmaus Primitive Baptist Church Singing, Thomaston, Georgia, and the Middle Georgia Singing, Union Primitive Baptist Church, Goggans, Georgia.

Some of us knew Raymond Hamrick all our lives, some not as long, but to all of us he was a much-loved teacher, mentor, author, and friend. We all enjoyed a social relationship with him. He was widely read and was a delightful conversationalist. He told us the backstory of many of the songs and their authors, including his own. His deep faith and spirituality were shown in his own songs of praise and adoration to our Redeemer and Heavenly Father. There is no finer tribute or memorial than the legacy of the beautiful songs he authored. We hope they will be sung by generations to come.

We knew Raymond through his nearly lifelong association with Sacred Harp, but he was known mainly in Macon as a master watch and clock repairman and jeweler. He often made house calls to repair clocks that could not be brought into his shop. I saw him often at his workbench, working with tiny parts and tools. Precision and time marked his professional life, and he instructed us, and sometimes admonished us, to pay attention to the time signature in our songs.

I have paraphrased some words taken from an epitaph of a master watch and clock maker who lived in the 1700s1 as an apt tribute and memorial to Raymond Hamrick: Integrity was the mainspring, and prudence the regulator of the actions of his life. He had the art of disposing of his time so well, that his hours glided by in harmony and dignity. He ran down November 24, 2014, in hopes of being taken in hand by his Maker, thoroughly cleaned, repaired, wound up, and set going in the world to come, when time shall be no more.

Raymond C. Hamrick at his workbench at Andersen’s Jewelers, courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

  1. This watch and clock maker was George Routleigh (1745–1802), who is buried at the Lydford churchyard in Dartmoor, England. The epitaph’s earliest known printing is in a 1786 issue of the Derby Mercury, in which the fictional deceased is named “Peter Pendulum.”—Ed. []
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Raymond C. Hamrick’s Contributions to Sacred Harp Singing and Scholarship

Raymond Cooper Hamrick (1915–2014), of Macon, Georgia, was a well-loved singer, composer, and scholar whose intellectual curiosity, generosity of spirit, and kindness seemed boundless. Perhaps the greatest Sacred Harp composer of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, Hamrick imparted to his music a distinctive voice that recalls the earliest American composers while embracing a fluid melodic style and expansive chordal palette all its own. He wrote hundreds of shape-note songs across a sixty-year period, contributing some of the most popular and well-loved songs to The Sacred Harp, and consenting to have some 179 of his songs published in two editions of The Georgian Harmony. Hamrick’s singing voice was renowned, an accurate bass singer with a warm and round tone. Hamrick harbored an unquenchable curiosity—he collected rare tunebooks, studied the history of the tradition’s songs and composers, and asked and answered questions about the music’s practices in the groundbreaking articles he wrote for Sacred Harp newsletters and scholarly journals. Hamrick was a gracious and generous mentor and a friend to many. He shared his knowledge of Sacred Harp’s history, his insight into composition, and his thoughtful opinions with singers young and old over decades.

Raymond C. Hamrick as an infant, Macon, Georgia. Courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

Hamrick was born on June 14, 1915, in Macon, to Horace Clifford Hamrick and Ida Eugenia Berry. His family attended Sacred Harp singings in the surrounding area but neither Raymond nor his older brother Horace were interested in the music in their youth. As Raymond Hamrick later recalled, “at that age … you’re more interested in social things than you are musical.” As a teenager, Hamrick developed an interest in classical music and began working as a jeweler and watchmaker.1

During the Second World War he served as a member of the US Army Air Corps. Hamrick narrowly escaped disaster at an Air Force base where he was stationed in Idaho. While preparing to conduct a routine test flight on the base, Hamrick noticed the plane had missed recent maintenance and urged that it be checked before the flight. His colleague wanted to fly the plane anyhow and decided to do so despite Hamrick’s protestations. The plane suffered an equipment failure and crashed, killing Hamrick’s colleague.

Hamrick at Andersen’s Jewelers, ca. 1938–39. Courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

Hamrick during World War II, when he served in the US Army Air Corps. Courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

After the war, Hamrick returned to Macon and the jewelry business, but found that his social network from before the war had evaporated, a likely consequence of the mid-twentieth-century rural southern depopulation accelerated by the opportunities created by the GI Bill. Feeling “at a loss,” in 1946 he agreed to accompany his older brother Horace to a singing school in the southern part of Bibb County taught by Primitive Baptist Elder J. Monroe Denton. Hamrick enjoyed the experience, finding he knew many of the young pupils attending the school. Yet soon he was intrigued by the eighteenth-century composition dates of many of the songs in The Sacred Harp, and ultimately wrote for more information to George Pullen Jackson, the author of numerous books and articles on the songs collected in tunebooks such as The Sacred Harp. For Jackson, it was “a pleasure to find one like [Hamrick], a real Southerner, so deeply interested in his own native music. It is usually the Northerner who sees beauty in it and the Southerner who despises it,” Jackson wrote in his reply to Hamrick, along with information on some of his books.2 The two began a correspondence that cemented Hamrick’s interest in the history of the tradition’s music. [Hamrick recounted his correspondence with Jackson in an interview with Alan Lomax published elsewhere in this issue.—Ed.]

George Pullen Jackson’s letter to Raymond C. Hamrick, ca. October 18, 1950, the beginning of the correspondence between the two. Box 3, Folder 3, Raymond Hamrick Papers, Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

Hamrick soon began attending singings outside his South Georgia area, meeting prominent Sacred Harp singers, teachers, and composers Hugh McGraw and Alfred Marcus “A. M.” Cagle. These two recognized Hamrick’s love of Sacred Harp singing and were impressed by his historical knowledge of the music and his deep, sonorous bass voice. They soon enlisted him in activities supporting Sacred Harp singing. Hamrick was among a group of eight Sacred Harp singers McGraw recruited to join another group of eight singers organized by Dewey President Williams to participate in the 1970 Smithsonian Institution’s Festival of American Folklife, held on the National Mall in Washington, DC. He returned to Washington in 1973 to participate in another festival, supported Hugh McGraw by anchoring the bass section at numerous singing schools and recording sessions, and was present to sing during the dedication of a historical monument to Sacred Harp co-compiler Benjamin Franklin White in Hamilton, Georgia, in 1984.

Driven by his interest in the history of the tunes in The Sacred Harp, Hamrick began to collect old shape note tunebooks. He placed advertisements in book dealers’ trade journals indicating his interest in oblong shape-note tunebooks and corresponded with dozens of used booksellers across the United States who responded. He ultimately accumulated about 100 volumes, many of which were the best preserved or only surviving copy, rarely paying more than $5 or $10 per book. He acquired what was then the best available copy of The Hesperian Harp for $15, later commenting that he was reticent about spending such a large sum for a tunebook but decided to go ahead given the rareness of the volume. Hamrick studied these tunebooks, lent them to researchers, and provided them for use in producing facsimile editions, making their contents accessible to singers and scholars.

Raymond C. Hamrick, seated, among Sacred Harp singers led by Dewey P. Williams and Hugh McGraw at the 1970 Festival of American Folklife, Washington, DC. Photograph by Joe Dan Boyd. From the Alabama Center for Traditional Culture. Thanks to Joe Dan Boyd and Joey Brackner.

Hamrick developed a particular interest in the early New England composers whose songs were included in The Sacred Harp, especially William Billings (1746–1800), the eccentric Boston composer-teacher-compiler who also worked as a tanner and occasional hog-catcher. Hamrick read the extant scholarship on Billings and other early American composers, studied their tunebooks in his collection, and wrote articles to share his knowledge of this era of American music history with his fellow singers. Hamrick wrote “The Twentieth Century Looks at William Billings,” summarizing Billings’s biography, compositional style, and then-recent “rising interest” in the early tunesmith’s works “by composers and conductors” for The Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News, the first Sacred Harp newsletter, in May 1965. In September of that same year, he contributed “The Curious History of Shape-Notes” to the newsletter, sharing the history of the invention of shape-notes in the context of changes in music pedagogy and printing technology. In both essays, Hamrick emphasized the “growing recognition being extended by music educators, musicologists, musicians, and academic communities” of features of The Sacred Harp, presenting this as validating what singers “have known all along.”3

Hamrick’s writing on Sacred Harp’s pre-history and his correspondence with scholars of early American music brought him to the attention of the editors of a scholarly journal on music education, The Quarterly Journal of Music Teaching and Learning, whose associate editor invited him to contribute to a 1996 special issue: “William Billings: A 250th Anniversary Celebration.” His essay, “Sojourn in the South: Billings among the Shape-Noters,” describes how Billings’s compositions were republished in early-nineteenth-century western and southern tunebooks, including The Sacred Harp, and remained popular among singers through to the present day. Hamrick, who recommended that Billings’s “Beneficence” (p. 486 in The Sacred Harp) be added to the 1960 Edition of the tunebook, recounted how the twelve compositions in the songbook were joined by yet two more—“Africa” and “Jordan” (pp. 178 and 66)—in the 1991 Edition. Hamrick’s “Sojourn in the South” was reprinted in Visions of Research in Music Education in 2010 and is included in this issue of The Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter, along with his two contributions to The Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News.

Hamrick also became interested in the range of practices associated with Sacred Harp singing. Noticing that song leaders in West Georgia set faster tempos than those commonly heard in South Georgia, Hamrick began a sixteen-year-long study of singing tempos, documenting differences among regions, across networks singing from different Sacred Harp editions, and over time. His previously unpublished 1972 essay, “The Matter of Tempo in the Sacred Harp,” included in this issue, is the first to address tempo in Sacred Harp singing. In it, Hamrick places these regional and temporal differences in the context of tempos prescribed for different moods of time in tunebooks dating to the eighteenth century drawn from his personal collection and relays the shifting opinions of Sacred Harp singing school teachers on tempo across the twentieth century.

Hamrick also studied the practice of keying songs by ear, comparing recordings and surveying the preeminent pitchers at Georgia Sacred Harp singings. He wrote “The Pitcher’s Role in Sacred Harp Music,” the first article on the subject of keying Sacred Harp music, for the National Sacred Harp Newsletter in 1986. The article circulated widely and has influenced keyers ever since. It was republished in the 1980s in other Sacred Harp newsletters and in the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter, with an introduction by music theorist and Sacred Harp singer Ian Quinn, in 2013. A second article for the National Sacred Harp Newsletter, published later in 1986, demonstrated the value of shape-notes to composers, and is also reprinted in this issue of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter.

“Millard,” included in Original Sacred Harp: 1960 Supplement and removed six years later at Raymond Hamrick’s request, was attributed to Hamrick’s wife but was in fact written by Hamrick himself.

Hamrick’s interest in the music of William Billings and other early New England composers including Daniel Read and Timothy Swan, led him to try his hand at composition, beginning in the late 1950s. A self-taught composer, Hamrick had his first published song included in the 1960 Edition of Original Sacred Harp. The song, “Millard,” was dedicated to Millard Hancock, a tenor singer, pitcher for the South Georgia Sacred Harp class of singers, and mentor to Hamrick.4 Ever modest, Hamrick attributed the song to his wife, the former Joyce Rape, whom he had married in 1950, though he later acknowledged having composed the tune himself. Raymond and Joyce raised two daughters, Susan and Patricia (Patti), and later divorced amicably, with Joyce remarrying and taking her new husband’s surname, Harrison. Hamrick remained close with Joyce and his children.

Raymond C. Hamrick with his two daughters, Patti (left) and Susan (right), September 1960, Macon Georgia. Courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

Meanwhile, learning to write in the Sacred Harp style took considerable time and effort, Hamrick reported. “I still have some of my early efforts,” he wrote in 2005, “and I wonder where I came up with some of [the] musical ideas expressed therein.”5 Hamrick and McGraw exchanged tunes and advice on harmonization with A. M. Cagle until Cagle’s death in 1968, and continued to share music with each other in the decades that followed. While McGraw’s writing in many ways resembles the style of other twentieth-century composers such as Cagle and McGraw’s second cousins, once removed, Thomas Beatrice and Henry Newton McGraw, Hamrick’s music draws largely on the sweeter sound and more expansive chordal palette of the eighteenth-century New England composers whose work he so admired. As Hamrick remarked in 2006, “Marcus [Cagle] and I had some discussion on [harmony writing], but he felt, as I did, that you write what you feel.” “In my early days,” Hamrick noted, “I especially liked the Billings, Swan, and Read music.”6 But although Hamrick is unique among his contemporaries in having hewn so closely to the eighteenth-century New England styles, he is characteristic in his belief that the composers should emulate the model provided by The Sacred Harp. “As the book says, ‘Seek the old paths and walk therein,’” he insisted in 2006. “Change can’t improve a great traditional style.”7

An unusually prolific Sacred Harp composer, Hamrick wrote hundreds of songs over a sixty-plus-year period. He wrote of constantly having “music of various types running thru my mind,” remarking that “occasionally the urge to write becomes so strong that [a song] practically writes itself.” As Shaun Jex writes elsewhere in this issue, Hamrick attributed this urge to the Divine Spirit, and found that its presence ebbed and flowed across his life. Following the uniform practice of Sacred Harp composers stretching back to the book’s publication, Hamrick always began by composing the melody, or tenor line, followed by the bass, treble, and finally the alto, which, “being the least important, can then be dealt with.” Yet his music is notable for the flowing and melodic quality of all four parts, a characteristic Hamrick adopted at the advice of older composers who instructed “that each part should be a singable tune of its own.”8 Sacred Harp singer and music theorist Robert Kelley finds “Hamrick’s very melodic bass parts,” full of flowing lines comprised of step-wise motion in contrast with much music in which “the basses skip around,” among the most distinctive and enjoyable features of his music.9 Indeed, even Hamrick’s alto lines are remarkable for their wide range and melodic interest. Hamrick attributes his commitment to writing melodic alto lines to an admonition from legendary Sacred Harp leader (and alto singer) Ruth Denson Edwards, who, after singing an especially boring alto part out of The Sacred Harp, remarked to Hamrick, “Don’t you ever write an alto line like that!”10

Raymond C. Hamrick, Horace Hamrick, and Oscar McGuire, at a Sacred Harp singing at Pleasant Hill Primitive Baptist Church in Warner Robbins, Georgia, in 1988. Courtesy of Patti Hamrick Dancy.

In addition to “Millard,” his song included in the 1960 Original Sacred Harp, Hamrick contributed two songs to the 1966 edition of the tunebook, “A Parting Prayer”11 and “Penitence” (p. 571). Five more of Hamrick’s compositions appear in the most recent 1991 Edition: “Christian’s Farewell,” “Invocation (Second),” “Lloyd,” “Nidrah,” and “Emmaus” (pp. 347, 492, 503, 540, and 569t). Although Hamrick was particularly fond of some of his earlier tunes, he judged many of his later efforts more favorably. At his own urging, “Millard” was removed from the tunebook in 1966 and “A Parting Prayer” replaced with “Emmaus” in 1991. His songs added to the 1991 Edition are popular and much loved by Sacred Harp singers. “Christian’s Farewell,” for example, is now the second most widely used song to take the parting hand at the end of a singing, trailing only William Walker’s eponymous “Parting Hand” (p. 62). Hamrick’s “Invocation,” “Nidrah,” and “Emmaus” have steadily increased in popularity since their publication, climbing from practically unknown to comfortably enmeshed in singers’ repertoires.

Yet one song of Hamrick’s stands alone. Hamrick tells of awaking one night, in the middle of a dream that featured an angelic choir of singers, stretching “as far as the eye could see,” singing a beautiful melody. Finding a pen and paper, he jotted down what he remembered of the tune before falling back to sleep.12 He harmonized the melody after waking and titled it “Lloyd,” a dedication to two Sacred Harp singing friends (Loyd Redding [1915–1985] and J. Loyd Landrum [1931–2016]) and to Benjamin Lloyd, compiler in 1841 of Primitive Hymns, a collection from which Hamrick drew many of the hymn texts that accompany his music. “Lloyd” regularly ranks among the most popular songs sung at Sacred Harp singings; in 2010, it was the most popular of all, outpacing perennial favorites such as “Hallelujah,” “New Britain,” and “Northfield” (pp. 146, 45t, and 155).13 As Hamrick has said, “the singers just took that one up and made it their own.”14

Display of the presidents of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company at the Headquarters and Museum in Carrollton, Georgia. Hamrick served as president from 1988–96. Photograph by Nathan Rees.

Hamrick has also contributed to The Sacred Harp through participating in the tunebook’s revision process and serving the non-profit that keeps it in print. Hamrick was a member of the music committee that edited The Sacred Harp: 1991 Edition. From 1986 to 2002 he served as president of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company. In his role as committee member for the 1991 Edition, and as a respected advisor to members of the 1960 and 1966 committees, Hamrick shaped the content of the book, drawing on his own interests and background. He suggested several compositions by eighteenth-century New England writers that were later added to the tunebook, including favorites such as “Beneficence” and “Portland” (pp. 486 and 556). He contributed the alto part added to “Stafford” (p. 78). Hamrick also encouraged the addition of compositions meaningful to other South Georgia Sacred Harp singers, strengthening ties between the communities he and McGraw represented; relations had frayed after the removal of a much-loved song from the 1936 Original Sacred Harp: Denson Revision. Hamrick and McGraw ensured that the song, Elphrey Heritage’s “The Savior’s Call” (p. 489), was restored to Original Sacred Harp in 1960.15 Hamrick also facilitated the inclusion of tunes in the 1991 Edition attributed to South Georgia singers J. Monroe Denton (“Lebanon,” p. 354t), David Grant (“Humility,” p. 50b), and Joyce Harrison (“Haynes Creek,” p. 466). Hamrick wrote about the process of editing the 1991 Edition in a previously unpublished essay meant to describe the process for the benefit of future generations of singers. His cleverly titled “The ‘Ins’ and ‘Outs’ of Revision,” the first and only essay on the revision of The Sacred Harp written by a music committee member, is included in this issue of the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter.

Raymond C. Hamrick sketched alto part to “Stafford” on the back of an envelope. Box 3, Folder 13, Raymond Hamrick Papers, Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

Hugh McGraw’s letter to Raymond C. Hamrick inviting Hamrick to write an alto part for the song “Stafford.” Box 3, Folder 13, Raymond Hamrick Papers, Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

In September 2005, at the annual Sacred Harp singing at Haynes Creek Church in Loganville, Georgia, several singers were talking with Hamrick about how much they liked his music in The Sacred Harp when he volunteered that he had many songs he had written that had not previously been published. As Sacred Harp and Christian Harmony singer John Hollingsworth recounts elsewhere in this issue, he immediately offered to typeset these songs if Hamrick were willing to provide them. Hamrick agreed to give Hollingsworth a few songs, which Hollingsworth then typeset and brought to various South Georgia singings, where the gathered singers took some time at the end of the day to sight-read them. [John Hollingsworth recounts the process of compiling The Georgian Harmony in detail elsewhere in this issue.—Ed.] Hamrick continued to share compositions in small batches, and in short order, the South Georgia Sacred Harp Singing Convention voted to compile and publish these songs in a collection to make them more widely available to Sacred Harp singers. The resulting tunebook, The Georgian Harmony, debuted at a singing in September 2010 at Liberty Hill Church near Barnesville, Georgia, attended by Hamrick and a large group of singers from across the United States. This first edition of The Georgian Harmony includes ninety-two of Hamrick’s songs (including the six also published in The Sacred Harp). A compact disc recording of the debut singing, edited by John’s son Bill Hollingsworth, was published in early 2011.

Hamrick leads from a draft version of The Georgian Harmony at Camp Fasola, Anniston Alabama, July 2008. Photograph by Aldo Ceresa.

In the summer of 2011 Hamrick gave Hollingsworth a second batch of around 100 unpublished tunes written across Hamrick’s entire period of compositional activity and embracing an even wider stylistic range than the songs included in the first edition of The Georgian Harmony. A community of singers inspired by Hamrick’s creativity, generosity, and talent assisted the composer, whose energy had declined since the publication of the first edition, in ensuring that all the songs met Hamrick’s own high standards. Singers again began meeting regularly to workshop the songs, this time taking notes on their copies of the sheet music which Hollingsworth compiled and shared with Hamrick, who then drew on the suggestions in editing songs and preparing them for publication. The South Georgia Sacred Harp Convention published an enlarged second edition of The Georgian Harmony, featuring a total of 179 songs, in the fall of 2012.

The process of compiling The Georgian Harmony catalyzed a great burst of inspiration in Hamrick, yet coincided with a period when the singer, then in his mid-90s, saw his work-life and participation in Sacred Harp singing “tapering off—regretfully.”16 Hamrick composed over 40 percent of the music in the first edition of The Georgian Harmony after he had turned ninety; he wrote many of the songs after the editing process was already underway. Yet the new second edition contained relatively few new songs, and as the project drew to a close, Hamrick’s output waned. He remained an active participant at Sacred Harp singings into the fall of 2014, traveling to a gradually diminishing range of singings as getting around became more challenging in his late 90s. Nonetheless, Hamrick continued working a few hours a day, three days a week, at Andersen’s Jewelers in Macon, into the early 2010s, a shop he owned for fifty years before finally selling it to an apprentice.

Singers embraced The Georgian Harmony. The South Georgia singers, with Hamrick’s consent, established five annual singings from the book, and singers gathered across the country—in Maine, New York, and the Pacific Northwest among other locales—to try out the songbook’s tunes. Among the South Georgia annual singings from The Georgian Harmony was a birthday singing, established in 2012, and held on the Saturday before the second Sunday in June. In 2014, the event was moved one week later so that it would fall on June 14, Hamrick’s actual ninety-ninth birthday, and occur during a weekend when singers who had traveled to Alabama for Camp Fasola and the National Sacred Harp Singing Convention would be able to drive to the event. Hamrick was in great spirits at his ninety-ninth birthday singing, joined by an extraordinary class of more than sixty singers from across the United States and beyond. He was touched by the love singers showed in including the day in their plans and impressed with the quality of the singing, perhaps the largest and best yet held out of the tunebook.

Raymond C. Hamrick donated his papers and tunebooks to the Pitts Theology Library, Emory University, where they now join the second largest collection of English and American hymnody and psalmody in the world. Photograph by Debra Madera.

Hamrick had extraordinary foresight in preserving the legacy that his many decades of experience singing, thinking, collecting, and writing about Sacred Harp represents. He donated his tunebook collection, correspondence, and papers to Emory University’s Pitts Theology Library, where they enhance a collection of English and American hymnody and psalmody that is the second largest in the country. He continued to serve as a mentor, as Shaun Jex demonstrates, exchanging letters and sharing information in person with any interested singer. I visited Hamrick in the spring of 2014 to record an oral history interview as part of the fieldwork for my dissertation. During a conversation that stretched to over four hours and is now preserved at the Sacred Harp Museum and the Berea College Appalachian Sound Archives, Hamrick shared an extraordinarily broad range of insights on the early New England composers, the history of shape-note music, and Sacred Harp performance practice, as well as about composition and his own deep involvement in the style. When he had difficulty recalling a name or date, he consulted notebooks where he had kept “a notice of just about everything that I think I [may] have to go back and look up,” recording much of his personal involvement in Sacred Harp and the information he had collected through correspondence and consulting his tunebook collection.17

Hamrick died on November 24, 2014. The Sacred Harp Publishing Company awarded him its posthumous citation, designed to “honor and express appreciation to loyal supporters and dedicated singers for outstanding work in the company and untiring support of and dedicated service to the cause of Sacred Harp music.” John Plunkett presented the citation to his daughter Patti at the 2015 Middle Georgia Sacred Harp singing, an event dedicated to Hamrick’s memory. Other singers in the South Georgia Convention shared remembrances of Hamrick at singings throughout the year. A great class of more than fifty singers from across Georgia and Alabama sang favorite songs of Hamrick’s from The Sacred Harp as well as his own compositions in that book and The Georgian Harmony at his funeral in Macon. Hamrick was memorialized by others beyond the Sacred Harp community as well. The UK newspaper The Guardian and Georgia Music published obituaries, and Alan Lomax’s Association for Cultural Equity, honored Hamrick by publishing a video of him leading at the 1982 Holly Springs singing. Long a kind and humble mentor to Sacred Harp singers and aspiring composers, Hamrick was, with his gentle wit, remarkable memory, and disarming charm, a delightful presence at singings and a treasure to the many people in the Sacred Harp world and beyond who made his acquaintance.

John Plunkett with Patti Hamrick Dancy and her son Josh Byrd at the presentation of a Sacred Harp Publishing Company posthumous citation in Raymond C. Hamrick’s honor, at the 2015 Middle Georgia Singing, Goggans, Georgia.

Acknowledgments

Parts of this essay were published in an earlier form as “Raymond Cooper Hamrick: Sacred Harp Craftsman” as the “Historical Profile” in Georgia Music News 72, no. 2 (Winter 2011): 74–76. Thanks to Georgia Music News past editor Mary Leglar for permission to adapt this essay for the Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter. Thanks to John Plunkett and Stephanie Tingler for their feedback on an early draft of this essay, to Patti Hamrick Dancy for her feedback on a more recent draft, to Robert Kelley for sharing his insights on Hamrick’s compositional style, and to Todd Harvey of the American Folklife Center of the Library of Congress and Debra Madera and M. Patrick Graham of the Pitts Theology Library of Emory University for their assistance in accessing Hamrick’s materials in these two archives.

  1. Jerome de Gratigny, Composing Sacred Harp Music with Raymond Hamrick, YouTube video (Macon, GA: Image 9 Media, 2010), http://singwithunderstanding.com/media/. []
  2. George Pullen Jackson to Raymond C. Hamrick, ca. November 1950, Box 3, Folder 3, Raymond Hamrick Papers, Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University. []
  3. Raymond C. Hamrick, “The Curious History of Shape-Notes,” Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News 2, no. 4 (September 20, 1965): 4. []
  4. A. M. Cagle et al., eds., Original Sacred Harp: Denson Revision, 1960 Supplement (Cullman, AL: Sacred Harp Publishing Company, 1960), 572t. []
  5. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, November 21, 2005. []
  6. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, April 23, 2006. []
  7. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, July 30, 2006. []
  8. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, March 21, 2007. []
  9. Robert Kelley, personal communication, October 24, 2011. []
  10. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, March 21, 2007. []
  11. Hugh McGraw et al., eds., Original Sacred Harp: Denson Revision, 1966 Edition (Cullman, AL: Sacred Harp Publishing Company, 1967), 569t. []
  12. Matt Hinton and Erica Hinton, Awake My Soul: The Story of the Sacred Harp, DVD (Atlanta, GA: Awake Productions, 2006). []
  13. Judy Caudle, Shelbie Sheppard, and Chris Thorman, “Song Use in The Sacred Harp, 1995–2015,” Fasola.org, January 2015, http://fasola.org/minutes/stats/. []
  14. Hinton and Hinton, Awake My Soul. []
  15. On “The Savior’s Call” and its composer, Elphrey Heritage, see Jesse P. Karlsberg and Christopher Sawula, “Elphrey Heritage: Northern Contributor to the Nineteenth-Century Sacred Harp,” Sacred Harp Publishing Company Newsletter 3, no. 2 (November 12, 2014), http://originalsacredharp.com/2014/11/12/elphrey-heritage-northern-contributor-to-the-nineteenth-century-sacred-harp/. []
  16. Raymond Hamrick, personal communication, November 21, 2005. []
  17. Raymond Hamrick, interview with the author, Macon, GA, April 3, 2014. []
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The Twentieth Century Looks at William Billings

Editor’s Note: When Raymond C. Hamrick returned to Sacred Harp singing after World War II he was immediately drawn to the music of the eighteenth-century New England composer, William Billings. Billings also piqued Hamrick’s scholarly curiosity as this article—first published in The Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News 1, no. (May 7, 1965)—demonstrates. In it, Hamrick champions Billings by reviewing then-recent scholarly writing which had initiated a positive reappraisal of Billings’s work, following a century and a half during which the composer was largely ignored or maligned.

Hamrick’s love of Billings’s music, and his awareness of its increasingly celebrated status, influenced The Sacred Harp tunebook and efforts to promote Sacred Harp singing. In 1965, Billings’s “Chester” (p. 479 in The Sacred Harp) was only included in Joseph Stephen James’s 1911 Original Sacred Harp, the tunebook Hamrick’s South Georgia Sacred Harp Singing Convention then used, not in the more popular Original Sacred Harp: Denson Revision. At Hamrick’s urging, the song was restored to the Denson Revision the following year. Hugh McGraw, who headed the 1966 music committee, regularly led “Chester” and other Billings songs when promoting Sacred Harp at folk festivals over course of the next decade, particularly at the Bicentennial Smithsonian Festival of American Folklife in 1976, when McGraw frequently retold the story Hamrick recounts below about the song’s popularity during the American Revolutionary War. Hamrick again wrote about Billings in 1996 in an article reprinted elsewhere in this issue of the Newsletter.

Since the first years of my association with Sacred Harp music, the few pieces therein that bear the name of William Billings as composer have excited my interest and stirred a curiosity about the man that has only been satisfied in recent years. Highly qualified researchers have explored the American scene in detail and a picture of the man and his times has emerged—a picture that changes some previously held ideas and provides a fascinating array of newly-discovered facets of Billings the melodist, the poet, and the man.

William Billings was born in Boston in 1746. He wrote and published his first book of music in 1770 at the age of twenty-four. This was the New-England Psalm-Singer, printed by Paul Revere. The advent of the Revolutionary War disrupted his musical activities for a time, but one of his tunes, “Chester” (found in the James edition of the Harp), became the most popular song sung by the American soldiers. The words used were not those with which we are familiar today but were strongly martial in feelings. The [second] verse will give a clear picture:

Howe and Burgoyne and Clinton too,
With Prescott and Cornwallis join’d
Together plot our Overthrow,
In one Infernal league combin’d.

The first printing of William Billings’s “Chester,” with his Revolutionary War–era lyrics included. In The Singing Master’s Assistant (1781), Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

The Preface to the New-England Psalm-Singer contains the following statement:

To the generous subscribers to this book. The author, to his great loss, having deferred the publication of these sheets for 18 months to have them put upon American paper hopes the delay will be pardoned; and the good ladies, heads of the families, into whose hands they may fall, will zealously endeavor to furnish the paper mills with all the fragments of linen they can possibly afford. Paper being the vehicle of literature and literature the spring and security of human happiness.1

Frontispiece of William Billings’s New-England Psalm-Singer (1770), courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Thus we see Billings at the age of twenty-four, a dedicated patriot, a poet, and musician. Added to these were the undisputed physical infirmities that beset him—the withered arm, the lame leg, the partly blind eye, and the rasping un-musical voice. Add to this an unflagging ambition and enthusiasm and we have a picture of Billings the man.

But what of Billings the composer? What of the charges that his music was crude, archaic, illiterate; his fuging tunes pitiful imitations of the classic fugue, merely an American innovation without roots or culture? Dr. J. Murray Barbour, in his excellent book, Church Music of William Billings, has this to say in rebuttal:

Just how illiterate was Billings? It is the opinion of the present writer that Billings’ detractors are almost totally wrong in their criticisms. His works do contain certain glaring faults and weaknesses, but they are seldom those of which he has been accused. To call him illiterate betrays a lack of familiarity with his music or else a failure to comprehend what musical illiteracy is. Even his spelling was good—excellent for the time and place. He used correctly eleven Italian terms for temp and mood: Adagio, Allegro, Affettuoso, Divoto, Grave, Lamentations, Largo, Maestoso, Presto, Vigoroso, and Vivace … his metrical signatures include 6/8, 2/4, 3/4, 4/4, 6/4, 2/2, and 3/2; these were almost always used correctly, especially in his latest works. It is true that Billings’ first collection, the New-England Psalm-Singer, contained many errors of notation, the most heinous being the omission of accidentals, but for this the engraver was at least partly to blame. He was Paul Revere who probably does deserve to be called musically illiterate, however skilled he may have been in equitation. … The true Billings deserves our respect. The texts for his psalm tunes form a first-rate anthology of 18th century religious poetry. For his anthems he was equally skilled at choosing texts and, at times, had what amounted to a genius at constructing them, an act of creation and synthesis in which he far excelled his colleagues on either side of the Atlantic.2

Criticisms of Billings’s music frequently refer to his habit of changing time values within the framework of the tune. The custom of the time was to use one metrical signature for an entire tune, and the rhythm adhered strictly to this signature. In the anthems, major divisions were shown by a change in the signature, but hardly ever was the changing rhythm of a short phrase or word so marked. Billings was the exception, and it was this attention to the minute details of his music that lends it so much appeal to the singer—and the listener.

As to the fuguing tune complaint, the idea that the idiom was conceived and carried out almost entirely by Billings is without foundation in fact. “Fuguing” or “Fuging Tune” is a shortened version of the original term “Fuging Psalm Tune” which was used in eighteenth-century England. This type of music bears no family relationship to the classical fugue form nor was it intended to have such. “Fuguing,” or imitative writing was the normal musical language of the late sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century England. It appeared in the works of the masters of the period—Tallis, Tye, Byrd and also in the congregational hymn books of England and Scotland. The Puritan rise in England brought an end to its spread but in later years it took root in the American colonies and by the time Billings arrived on the scene, the English fuguing tune had been familiar for longer than a decade. Billings poured his ideas into a familiar mold. Of his six books only thirty-six fuguing tunes appeared in them. This was a very small part—8 percent—of his output. So, it can be clearly stated that he was neither the originator nor the leading exponent of the style.3

As to the “uncouth, archaic” definition, Billings wrote four “singable” parts—for the singers. He saw harmony as counterpoint, not as vertical blocks of chords. His melodies were strong and tuneful, and while his harmony was strongly diatonic and triadic (6 percent of his chords were sevenths), yet his melodious part-writing gave rise to combinations of notes that were quite complex.

Album cover of the Robert Shaw Chorale’s A Treasury of Easter Songs, which includes “Easter Anthem” exactly as written by William Billings.

We have seen in recent years a rising interest in Billings’s works, both by composers and conductors. That which was once labeled crude and uncouth has become valued for the very qualities once derided. The Robert Shaw Chorale has recorded several tunes exactly as written—“Rose of Sharon,” “Easter Anthem,” “When Jesus Wept,” “Shepherds Carol,” “A Virgin Unspotted,” and “The Bird.” The Mormon Tabernacle Choir has recorded “David’s Lamentation.” Sheet music of most of these is now available and church choir directors often make use of them. This writer had the pleasure recently of singing in a large church choir which was presenting “Easter Anthem” as special seasonal music. Crude and archaic it may or may not be, but after nearly 200 years its audience appeal is still undeniably strong.

As with many things in this world of ours, time has brought belated appreciation of Billings’s genius. This is not to imply that he was a great composer, but, to quote Barbour, “he had perhaps more genius than talent.”4 Also, he had enthusiasm—an enthusiasm that helped lift the church music of his day from the pitiful state into which it had fallen; an enthusiasm that is as apparent today as when he first set pen to paper.

Hans Nathan says, “There is freshness, a naive vigor about it … the melodic style had popular appeal since it included familiar elements while preserving a measure of uniqueness. Thus, we hear reminiscences of Irish jigs, English and Scotch folk song, English tunes of fashion, eighteenth-century dance patterns, and even elements of eighteenth-century art music. The 6/4 and 6/8 “moods” … inspired him to write cheerful and festive tunes—perhaps his best—that resemble English carols.”5 What he contributed made him a representative American of whom we can be very proud.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Debra Madera of Pitts Theology Library for digitizing a copy of “Chester” and to M. Patrick Graham for permission to include the scan in this issue as an illustration. Thanks to Tim Reynolds for permission to reprint this article from the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News.

  1. William Billings, The New-England Psalm-Singer: Or, American Chorister (Edes and Gill, 1770). []
  2. James Murray Barbour, The Church Music of William Billings (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1960), xiii, 13. []
  3. Irving Lowens, “The Origins of the American Fuging Tune,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 6, no. 1 (April 1, 1953): 43–52. []
  4. Barbour, The Church Music of William Billings, 138. [Barbour’s comment echoes that of Billings’s friend and contemporary, Reverend William Bentley, who described Billings as having “more genius than taste.”—Ed.] []
  5. Hans Nathan, “Introduction,” in The Continental Harmony, by William Billings, ed. Hans Nathan (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1961), xvii. []
Posted in Hamrick on The Sacred Harp, Harpeth Valley News, Read the Old Paths | 1 Comment

The Curious History of Shape-Notes

Editor’s Note: In this essay, first published in The Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News 2, no. 4 (September 20, 1965), Hamrick places shape-notes in the context of American vocal music history, from their advent in the colonial era through the twentieth century. Hamrick’s evocative retelling of this story capitalizes on what at the time was a “growing recognition [of the value of shape-notes] being extended by music educators, musicologists, musicians, and academic communities.” Hamrick took pleasure in reporting this newfound appreciation, yet noted that it “merely confirms what [Sacred Harp singers] have known all along.”

This version of Hamrick’s essay draws on the author’s original typescript, preserved in the Raymond Hamrick Papers at Emory University’s Pitts Theology Library, as well as the published version, which was edited by Priestley Miller. Where the two versions differ substantively, this version generally retains Hamrick’s original language. On matters of punctuation and style it generally adopts Miller’s changes and a handful of our own. We have included both 1965 versions of the essay below as downloadable PDF files.

One facet of Sacred Harp music that seems to intrigue the newcomer to our midst is the peculiar (to them) shapes that decorate the note-heads. All other familiar signs of standard notation are the same, but the squares, triangles, ovals, and diamonds adorning the staff are somewhat puzzling to the musician who cut his teeth on round notes. The attempt to explain just how the shapes promote rapid, accurate sight reading—even in children with no previous training in music—evokes a blank look or an amused shake of the head and sometimes the condescending, “It can’t be done.” All vastly frustrating to the Sacred Harper who knows that it can be—and is—done. This article [offers] ammunition for those who may need an array of facts to hurl at the scoffer of the future.

Title page of the first edition of the Bay Psalm Book (1640), the first book printed in the American colonies. Courtesy of the Library of Congress and David Rubenstein.

To understand the “Why,” the need for a teaching aid that would be easily applicable to even the least musically trained among us, we must go back to the days of colonial America and consider the conditions prevailing then. It is truly said that “necessity is the mother of invention” and necessity certainly existed in the infant days of the Republic. There are many documents which testify to the fact that our Pilgrim father could and did sing in four-part harmony, often accompanied by lute, viol, virginal, or psaltery. The first edition of the Bay Psalm Book (Cambridge 1640), the first book printed in the colonies, contained no music. Its users were referred to Ravenscroft’s Psalter (London 1621) for the many tunes to which metrical versions of the psalms could be sung. Also in use was the Sternhold and Hopkins’ Whole Booke of Psalmes (London 1562).1

However, later generations, forced to endure privation during the westward surge, with small settlements and a pioneer-type existence, were left little time or opportunity for the cultivation of music. Itinerant preachers traveled from settlement to settlement where they preached and then spent a few days trying to teach the people to sing. The ability to read music became so neglected that the practice of “lining-out” hymns came into being, wherein the congregations were taught to sing religious songs by “rote” rather than by “note.” The lining-out was done by a deacon or “reader” who read one or two lines of the psalm and then led the congregation in singing what had been read. Thomas Walter, in his book, The Grounds and Rules of Musick Explained (Boston 1721), made this complaint:

Once the tunes were sung to the rules of musick, but are now miserably tortured and twisted … there are no two churches that sing alike … somebody or other did compose our tunes and did they, think ye?, compose them by rule or by rote? If the latter, how came they prick’d down in our Psalm books? … For want of exactitude, I have observed in many places one man is upon a note while another a note behind, which produces something hideous and beyond expression bad.2

The Reverend John Tufts spear-headed a movement to establish singing schools with the publication in 1721 of his Introduction to the Singing of Psalm Tunes. This book also contained the first published set of rudiments for teaching, covering such points as tuning the voice, notation, intervals, scales, clefs, and time signatures. This was the first American music textbook and the teaching section was to be picked up by other compilers and used with little change for many years thereafter.

“Lessons for the Tuning of the Voice” from a 1626 copy of John Tufts’s An Introduction to the Singing of Psalm Tunes. Tufts used the letters associated with the different note names to create a new system for sight-reading. Courtesy of the Rosenbach Museum and Library of the Free Library of Philadelphia.

Tufts introduced a system of sight-reading based on the placing of the first letter of each syllable on the staff in place of the note; i.e., “F” for fa, “s” for sol, “L” for la, “M” for mi. The length of the note was shown by dots placed to the right of each letter, two dots for a breve, one dot for a semi-breve, and no dot for the quarter. For past centuries, many books in Europe had placed the letter representing the syllable next to each note, but Tufts’ idea was to eliminate the note entirely and use only the letter. As an instructional device it was useful and practical when applied to simple music, but even mildly florid tunes showed its obvious limitations. Nevertheless, Tufts’ work on behalf of better singing was to have revolutionary consequences. From it developed a most remarkable new social institution, the New England singing school, which was to control the destinies of native American music for well over a hundred years. Thanks to the singing-school movement and the teacher-composers who were its product, the last two decades of the eighteenth century were to see a tremendous upsurge of musical creativity, the uniqueness and vitality of which is only now beginning to be realized.3

In the year 1802, two New England singing-school teachers, William Little and William Smith, brought forth a book called The Easy Instructor in which the ultimate in simplicity of music-reading was achieved.4 Their system uses four characteristic notes whose shape at once determines their position on the scale and their relative quantity.5 George Pullen Jackson says of this system that it was accepted instantly, without question, in much the same way that people accept the Bible.6 So complete was the acceptance that it was not until 1848 that any compiler using the shapes even mentioned the inventors. William Hauser’s Hesperian Harp preface states:

The French sing ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la, se. The Italians do, re, me, fa, sol, la, si. The English fa, sol, la, mi. But the present race of teachers, American and English, are aping the Italians in the use of do, re, mi, etc. And some of them gravely assert that the seven musical sounds cannot be expressed without using seven distinct syllables as do, re, mi, etc. But if this doctrine be true, all songs and hymns sung must be incorrect for our poets have been too far behind in this age of light, or so stupid in the full blaze of it, as not to have woven those almighty syllables into their songs. Nay, I contend that the four old syllables mi, fa, sol, la, are fully adequate to the expression of every musical sound in the scale; and that four shapes, the glorious patent notes of William Little and William Smith are “just the thing.”7

If we are to believe that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” then Andrew Law, prominent singing school teacher, compiler, and composer, evidently had an instant and wholehearted admiration for shape notes. The 1803 edition of his Art of Singing used the same shapes but with the “la” and “fa” reversed, probably to avoid charges of plagiarism. He went one step further by dispensing entirely with the staff lines, arranging his notes above and below the keynote position so as to give a fair idea of the interval involved. Under these conditions it was absolutely mandatory that the music be sung by the shapes.8

“Mear” in the first edition of William Little and William Smith’s The Easy Instructor (1801), the first book to use shape-notes. Courtesy of the Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

“Mear” in Andrew Law’s 1803 Art of Singing, which used a variant on Little and Smith’s shape-note system. Courtesy of the Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

Other imitators sprang up, particularly those who favored a seven-shape notation. In the year 1853, Professor Jesse B. Aiken in his Christian Minstrel first used the shapes of his own device that are the same seven shapes used today.9 In later years, around 1870, the beginnings of the gospel style music began to appear in this notation—but that is another field entirely.

Also brought forth during these early years was a numerical notation system wherein the note-heads were replaced with numbers showing the position of the tone in the scale. This system also appeared with and without staff lines. It enjoyed wide popularity for a time but finally passed into oblivion.10

The period surrounding the year 1800 saw also the development of movable music type for printing song books, an innovation that did away with the laborious hand engraving of plates that had previously been necessary. This, coupled with the invention of a music-reading system that simplified music teaching to suit the limited abilities of the masses, created a boom in the printing of tune books. At least 154 individual tune books are known to have been printed by the close of the eighteenth century. After 1800, the number increased greatly and it is conservatively estimated that more than a thousand were published during the nineteenth century, some of which ran into many editions. A good example is William Walker’s Southern Harmony, first published in 1835 using four-shaped notes. It sold over 600,000 copies and this was but one of many.

Published version of Hamrick’s “The Curious History of Shape-Notes” (PDF, 2 MB) from the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News. Courtesy of Tim Reynolds.

The compilers of these books were all singing school teachers and many were composers. During the Revolutionary War and for twenty or thirty years thereafter, the music of these composers enjoyed an almost universal acceptance. Their music was as distinctively American as our speech, or political economy, and all other aspects of our culture had become. It represented a combining of cultural legacies from Europe with elements peculiar to the new land. During the early 1800s this music was gradually displaced in the Northeast by English and Continental music introduced by the many musicians of foreign birth who took over positions as organists and music teachers in the large urban centers and trained vast numbers of pupils to follow in their footsteps. The original American music and its notational system survives today only in the South. Dr. Allen P. Britton, head of the music department of the University of Michigan, puts it this way:

Typescript of Hamrick’s “The Curious History of Shape-Notes” (PDF, 2 MB) from Raymond Hamrick Papers, Archives and Manuscript Dept., Pitts Theology Library, Emory University.

The doom of the tune book, the singing school in which it was used, and the music it represented was compounded by the gradual introduction of music education in the public schools. The first music educators were of foreign birth or indoctrination. In the field of teaching music they showed a desire to discard American methods of proven value in favor of imported philosophies. In the first place, they would have nothing to do with the shape-note system of musical notation then in almost universal use in churches and singing schools. The shape-note system provides the most effective means yet devised to teach music reading. Entirely an American invention, it is intriguing to the learner and it embodies none of the inherent disadvantages of such special notations as the Tonic-sol-fa so popular in England. Yet it was rejected largely because of its identification with the rejected American idiom, and partly, perhaps, on account of its very Americanness—it was not known in Europe.11

We find today, in the academic communities, a growing interest in the early American idiom. We are coming into an age of appreciation of things American and the old inherent concept of European superiority in all things cultural is fast fading. We do not anticipate a return to the teaching of shape-note music reading on a grand scale, but it is being taught in many colleges and universities. In the meantime, we who sing in The Sacred Harp are still the guardians and perpetuators of a uniquely American cultural heritage. The growing recognition being extended by music educators, musicologists, musicians, and academic communities merely confirms what we have known all along—that we are on solid ground.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Debra Madera at the Pitts Theology Library of Emory University for digitizing pages from the library’s excellent copies of The Easy Instructor and Art of Singing along with Hamrick’s typescript of this essay. Thanks to M. Patrick Graham, the library’s director, for permission to include these images. Thanks to Timothy Reynolds, editor of the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News, for loaning his copy of the September 1965 issue for digitization and for permission to reprint Hamrick’s article.

  1. W. Thomas Marrocco, “The Notation in American Sacred Music Collections,” Acta Musicologica 36, no. 2/3 (1964): 137, doi:10.2307/932422. []
  2. Quoted in Ibid. []
  3. Irving Lowens, “John Tufts’ ‘Introduction to the Singing of Psalm-Tunes’ (1721–1744): The First American Music Textbook,” Journal of Research in Music Education 2, no. 2 (1954): 89–102, doi:10.2307/3343691. []
  4. The first edition of The Easy Instructor is now thought to have been published in 1801, rather than 1802, but the best evidence in 1965 pointed to the 1802 date Hamrick provides.—Ed. []
  5. Priestley Miller, in editing this article for inclusion in the September 20, 1965 issue of the Harpeth Valley Sacred Harp News 2, no. 4, inserted the following elaboration of the utility of the shape-note system:

    After learning the scale intervals thoroughly as related to the shapes, it is then possible to read any part of any tune written in shape-notes with amazing ease and accuracy. The sharps and flats in the signature do not concern the singer. The keynote, “fa” is given by the person doing the pitching and from that point the shapes automatically convey the position of the half-steps. If the demands of melody require additional half-steps, an accidental is inserted, but in Sacred Harp music these are rare. After ascertaining the tonic, or keynote, of a piece of music, the singer knows instantly from both the shape of the succeeding note, and from its approximate distance from the key-note, just what the degree is, whether it be a third, sixth, fifth, octave, etc. The fact that three of the four shapes are used twice within the octave is no problem inasmuch as, for example, the sixth, “la”, is an easily recognizable distance from the key-note than is the “la” representing the third. This is likewise true of “fa” whose triangle shape appears as the first, the keynote, as well as the fourth and the eighth, the octave. Also, the ovals, “sol”, which appear as the second and the fifth are easily distinguished. The diamond, “mi”, appears only once, as the seventh.

    —Ed. []

  6. George Pullen Jackson, White Spirituals in the Southern Uplands: The Story of the Fasola Folk, Their Songs, Singings, and “Buckwheat Notes” (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1933). []
  7. William Hauser, The Hesperian Harp (Philadelphia: Printed by T.K. & P.G. Collins, 1848). []
  8. Andrew Law, The Art of Singing: In Three Parts (Cambridge, MA: W. Hilliard, 1803). []
  9. J. B. Aikin, ed., The Christian Minstrel: A New System of Musical Notation, 12th Ed. (Philadelphia: T. K. Collins, 1853 [1846]). []
  10. Marrocco, “The Notation in American Sacred Music Collections,” 141. []
  11. Allen P. Britton, “Music in Early American Public Education: A Historical Critique,” Yearbook of the National Society for Study of Education 57 (1958): 195–211. []
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